THE LOST SILVER OF 
 BRIFFAULT 
 
 3t 
 AMELIA E'BARR 
 
The Lost Silver 
 of Briffault 
 
 By 
 
 AMELIA E. BARR 
 
 New York 
 
 Dodd, Mead and Company 
 1898 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1885, 
 
 BY 
 PHILLIPS & HUNT, N. Y. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 epoch selected for my tale is generally sup- 
 posed to be too full of unhappy memories to 
 become the vehicle of a story. I do not think so. 
 I know that it abounded in deeds of heroic self-de- 
 nial, and in trials bringing forth infinite patience and 
 kindness. Nor can I have given offense to any, for 
 the law of love and truth has guided me. Also, 
 among the scenes I depict I spent those happy years 
 of my life which had on them the dew of youth ; and 
 though I dwell now among the Highlands of the 
 Hudson, I recall, with deep affection, the beautiful 
 land far off by the sunny Colorado. And thus, 
 
 though time will go, ' 
 
 " I mingle yet 
 
 The bitter and the sweet, nor quite forget, 
 Nor quite remember, till these things all seem 
 The wavering memory of a lovely dream." 
 
 AMELIA E. BARE. 
 
 FSS835 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. FREEDOM 7 
 
 II. LOVE AND MARRIAGE 42 
 
 III. THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED 72 
 
 IV. THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY 101 
 
 V. THE RUNAWAY BRIDE 133 
 
 VI. RAY'S LEGACY 158 
 
 VII. THE MAN AT THE GATE 187 
 
 VIII. LIFE AND DEATH 223 
 
 IX. THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER 247 
 
 X. THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE 280 
 
 XI. THE FOUND SILVER . . 299 
 
THE 
 
 LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 CHAPTER L .-vs..:? 
 
 FREEDOM. 
 
 Let us hear again 
 
 The freedmen singing under Southern noons ; 
 Amid the cotton and the sugar-cane, 
 Or teeming rice-fields by the hot lagoons. 
 Hear in the cabins, through the summer night, 
 The cry of Freedom ! bursting unaware, 
 And setting all its rapturous delight 
 To sweet accompaniments of song and prayer. 
 
 "ITIDSUMMER and midday a day so hot that 
 -i'J- the crystal air trembled and quivered and glis- 
 tened, as if it were a veil of woven silver ; and the 
 white house of the Preston ranch seemed to shrink 
 away from it into the thick shade of the surrounding 
 mulberry-trees ; where also the birds, faint and silent, 
 had hid themselves. But among the vines of the 
 veranda, the grasshoppers, with their goat-like profiles, 
 were busily running, and across the hot sand of the 
 
8 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 yard a large snake lay prone, with every glittering coil 
 outstretched, basking in the fiercest rays of the sun. 
 
 A woman stood just within the door, a beautiful 
 woman, with a complexion of that warm pallor so 
 rarely seen except in the South. Her attitude was 
 listless and sorrowful, and her eyes were fixed upon 
 the brilliant rejpfcile, so luxuriously stretching itself 
 upon the fervid" ground. It roused in her neither 
 i'eor, hatred, itor/anger ; she felt no desire to take up 
 Eve's quarrel against the creature. " Let it alone," 
 she said to the Negro servant, who was going, with 
 an eager passion of hatred, to destroy it. Intoxicated 
 with sunshine, it was unconscious of danger; and to 
 dismiss death, and say, even to a snake, " Live a little 
 longer," seemed to Cassia Preston a pleasant thing to 
 do, and it made a faint ripple in the somber sameness 
 of her thoughts. 
 
 She turned and went toward a door at the other 
 end of the wide hall, and opened it softly. It showed 
 her a room in deepest shadow, whose atmosphere was 
 heavy with the scent of dying roses and the sickly 
 odor of valerian. On a couch, in the dimmest corner, 
 there was a little drift of white muslin, and above it 
 the thin, yellow face of a woman, apparently asleep. 
 But she stirred as Cassia stood looking at her, and 
 
 O ' 
 
 said, querulously, " I want some coffee, and tell Mam- 
 my to come and rub my feet." 
 
FKEEDOM. 9 
 
 " Mother, let me take Mammy's place. I do not 
 think she will come." 
 
 " Not come ! What nonsense. Send her here im- 
 mediately." 
 
 Cassia shut the door and sat down by the fretful 
 woman. " I can keep bad news from you no longer, 
 mother. Mammy is her own mistress now. Our 
 servants are free." 
 
 "Free! That is an impossibility. My servants 
 were given me by my father. I have the papers. 
 He told me they were made out in such a way that 
 no one could take them from me no one! They 
 are mine ; mine as much as the rings on my fingers," 
 and she held out her thin hands, trembling with 
 emotion and glittering with gems. 
 
 " I heard they were free nearly a month ago. I 
 have no doubt it is true. All of Roseland's and 
 MacKersey's hands have left. Galveston is full of 
 runaway Negroes ; no one dares to touch them, or 
 challenge their right. The fields are empty ; you 
 can't hire a man for gold. The houses are empty ; 
 in many there is not even an old woman left to make 
 a biscuit." 
 
 " I don't believe it ! Who told you such things ? " 
 
 " Sheriff Bowling. He called this morning for a 
 little breakfast. He sold Chloe's son, you remember, 
 and Chloe would not cook any thing for him. She 
 
10 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 said she had hurt her hand ; but would she have 
 dared to make an excuse a month ago ? He told 
 me he was out herding his own cattle. His men 
 have all gone. Our isolation has been in our favor, 
 but a man called here three days ago, and even Mam- 
 my has been changed since. She told me he was 
 going to Corpus Christ! to look for his wife, Melinda, 
 and she added, in a very significant manner, ' Thank 
 God, when he find her dis time, he can keep her, 
 till black Death come along to part them.' ' : 
 
 " If you heard talk like this a month ago, Cassia, 
 you ought to have prevented the servants hearing it." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " You should have suffered none of them to leave 
 the place. You should have kept every stranger off 
 it. I would have watched night and day. Whatever 
 are our soldiers doing ? " 
 
 " There have been reverses " 
 
 " Reverses ! There are always reverses in war. 
 Napoleon had them. Washington had them. Are 
 we to set our slaves free for reverses ? I shall hold 
 mine fast until the reverses are on the other side. 
 What good will there be in the final victory if our 
 property is all scattered far and wide, and we can't 
 find it again ? Keep the servants together, Cassia ; 
 any day, to-morrow even, may bring us better 
 
FREEDOM. 11 
 
 " Better news will never come. The war is over. 
 We have lost all, mother." 
 
 " How can you say such cruel things, Cassia ? It 
 wouldn't be just. See what I have sacrificed ! Your 
 father killed ; your brother away fighting four years ; 
 very likely he is killed, too ; we haven't heard from 
 him since April ; think of all my sufferings ! And 
 then to lose every thing ! No, it wouldn't be just or 
 right. I will not hear it ! " 
 
 "Don't cry, now, dear mother. There is no help 
 for us in tears, and I do want your advice. The men 
 are ugly and lazy ; instead of going to the fields they 
 are hanging about the cabins. The women are just 
 the same. I asked Celia this morning about the 
 washing, and she said she did not feel like it. She 
 said the same last week. Every meal is cooked 
 more and more slovenly and irregularly. There 
 is a feeling about the place to-day that frightens 
 me. I do believe it is the right thing to call the 
 servants together and tell them they are free. Then 
 I could get rid of all who refuse to work. Per- 
 haps Mammy and Chloe will stay if we give them 
 good wages." 
 
 " Give them wages ? I wont do it ! I'll die first ! 
 Pay my own slaves to work for me ? I wont do it 1 
 I wont do it ! They ought to be ashamed of them- 
 selves " 
 
12 THE LOST SILVER OF BBIFFAULT. 
 
 Cassia's face darkened. "Let us be reasonable, 
 mother ; why should they be ashamed ? " 
 
 " Born in the family after all we have done for 
 them," she sobbed. 
 
 " Perhaps they think they could have done better 
 for themselves." 
 
 " Are you turning against me, too ? O, Cassia, I 
 never thought " 
 
 " Come, mother, try and face the inevitable." 
 
 " To behave so badly Mammy, too. It will kill 
 me" 
 
 Cassia walked to the window and stood a moment 
 despairingly before the closed blinds ; but, as her 
 mother's sobs grew louder, she went back and soothed 
 and kissed the petted, ailing woman into a calmer 
 mood. 
 
 Then she sought her own room, ostensibly for her 
 siesta, but she was far too anxious and restless to 
 sleep. Nature had not only endowed her with beauty, 
 she had given her also a clear mind and a moral 
 bias that was, above all other things, upright ; so that 
 her duty, and the sense of its immediate necessity, 
 weighed heavily on her. 
 
 She frankly admitted to herself that the servants 
 had shown a remarkable patience and restraint. Ru- 
 mors of their approaching freedom had been in the 
 air for months. For three weeks they had believed in 
 
FREEDOM. 13 
 
 its reality ; for three days they had been sure of the 
 stupendous and glorious change in their condition. 
 " It is no wonder they despise mother and I," she 
 thought. " When the news first came we ought to 
 have called them together and told them, and, as far 
 as it was natural and possible, have rejoiced with them. 
 Then we could have asked them to remain with us 
 until John came home and agreed with them about 
 their wages. But instead of that we have taken 
 their labor as our right. I must do now what I 
 know John would have done long ago if he had been 
 here." 
 
 But good is only half good when it is past season. 
 She felt, when she went down stairs, that her resolve 
 had come too late. Already there were changes in 
 progress, and delay had robbed duty of every grace. 
 She wandered restlessly about the house and garden 
 until night-fall had brought all the servants into the 
 kitchen and cabins ; then she asked Uncle Isaac to 
 gather them together. He was a very old man ; he 
 had been her great-grandfather's servant. She 
 thought if any love or gratitude could be depended 
 upon it was surely his. 
 
 Very reluctantly, and only after bitter weeping, 
 Mrs. Preston had consented to have the tie broken in 
 her presence. Cassia was certain it ought to be so ; 
 she wished it to be done as gently as possible, and 
 
14: THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 she wished them to carry away into new lives a kindly 
 memory of the old one. It was a most impressive 
 gathering. Fifty men and women, of all ages and 
 all shades of color, were there, some with wool like 
 snow, others in the strength of their prime and the 
 beauty of their youth. Mrs. Preston covered her face 
 and sobbed. Cassia, standing at her mother's side? 
 said : 
 
 " Uncle Isaac, you served my great grandfather ? " 
 
 " Dat so, Miss Cassia. He was my fust master ; 
 bought me from de slave-ship Lijafi Hoole eighty-two 
 years ago." 
 
 " And you served my grandfather, also ? " 
 
 " Ebery day ob his life bery good master he was.' 
 
 " And my father ? " 
 
 " De last t'ing de colonel do, 'fore he go to de war, 
 was to shake hands wid me. I hold de stirrup fur 
 him. Mighty good man de colonel ! And I nurse 
 Mass' John, too, in dese arms make his fust fishin'- 
 rod fur him. Four generations of de Prestons I hab 
 served, faithful, Miss Cassia." 
 
 " Isaac, you are free now. You need serve none of 
 us any longer. Mammy, Chloe, Jeff, Scip, all of you 
 even to little Coralie in her cradle, are free. You 
 can all leave us to-morrow if you wish. You need 
 never do any thing for us again. Some of you 
 played with father and mother ; some of you played 
 
FREEDOM. 15 
 
 with Master John and me. You have been very true 
 to us. I never heard of any of you, man or woman, 
 saying a word against the Prestons. You have also 
 been very kind to us, very patient with us, and God 
 knows we have tried to be very kind and patient with 
 you. "We have been one family. It is hard to part 
 to say < Good-lye: " 
 
 It was impossible for her to continue. Most of 
 the men and women were sobbing with all the passion- 
 ate abandon of their childlike natures ; Mammy had 
 knelt down by Mrs. Preston's side, and was chafing 
 and kissing her hands, and vowing " ueber, neber, to 
 leave her." Cassia stood among them, white and 
 sorrowful, slow, large tears falling unconsciously from 
 her eyes. At length Uncle Isaac said : " What does 
 de madam and Miss Cassia want us to do ? " 
 
 He had slowly stepped forward, and stood in his 
 tottering age close by his mistress's side. She 
 stretched out her white, gemmed hand to him, and 
 he touched it and bowed his snowy head over it with 
 a native chivalry no art could have imitated. 
 
 Cassia answered for her mother. " Uncle Isaac, 
 we would like all of you to remain on the place, at 
 your usual work, until Master John returns. He 
 cannot be long now. You know what Master John 
 is ; he will pay you the last dime of your right, if he 
 sells the land to do it. Whatever others are getting 
 
16 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 you shall have. I promise for him. We will deal 
 kindly and honestly by you." 
 
 Isaac turned and looked at the people. There was 
 a slight hesitation ; then Jeff, who was overseer, said : 
 "Miss Cassia hab done make us a fair offer. I'se 
 gwine to take it. I kin trust Mass' John and all de 
 Prestons, I kin." 
 
 This was the universal sentiment, and Cassia, with 
 a sense of great relief, accepted their service under 
 its new condition. She was too truthful to affect 
 personal sympathy with this condition, but yet she 
 could understand the light and triumph in every 
 face, the sudden and quite unconscious uplifting of 
 every head, and into her heart there came a kindly 
 thought. 
 
 "Here are the keys of the storeroom, Chloe ; I 
 am sure you would like to make an extra supper for 
 all to-night." 
 
 "Thank'ee, madam, thank'ee Miss Cassia," came 
 from every lip, and then, with even more than their 
 usual deference, they left the room and went back 
 to their quarters. Cassia walked to a side window 
 and w r atched them, for as soon as they were outside 
 the house they gave way to the deep joy in their 
 hearts. Some of the women fell weeping on their 
 husband's necks. A gigantic negress lifted her baby 
 high above her head, telling it over and over, in 
 
FREEDOM. 1 7 
 
 constantly louder and shriller tones : " You'se f ivi\ 
 Taniar ! Yon'se free, Taraar! Free! free! free!" 
 The young drew together in little ebony squads 
 around the white cabins ; the elder ones gathered in 
 Chloe's big kitchen. After the first few moments 
 of rapture it was not all joy to them. There were 
 wives and fathers and mothers who could not help 
 feeling that freedom had come too late for their hap- 
 piness. Their loved ones had been sold away, and 
 they knew not where to find them. So they sat 
 smoking and talking, almost sadly, in the big kitchen ; 
 while Chloe, and some of the women, killed and fried 
 chickens, boiled the ripe young ears of corn, and 
 made the johnny-cake and coffee. Gladly they 
 brought out their hoarded pieces of fine linen or 
 china, and the younger girls laid the tables for their 
 first freedom supper. 
 
 That night Chloe's kitchen was a wonderful place. 
 The cedar logs blazed and danced in the chimney, 
 and threw great luster across the tables, and the 
 shifting groups of women, with their gay turbans 
 and glinting ear-rings ; across the more somber 
 groups of talking men, with their glowing corn-cob 
 pipes and gleaming eyes and light blue hickory 
 dress. Uncle Isaac had gone to his cabin to rest un- 
 til supper was ready, and it was nearly ten o'clock 
 
 when Cassia saw him, leaning upon Jeff and Scip, 
 2 
 
18 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 slowly totter across the yard, in order to take his 
 place as master of the feast. 
 
 She was in her mother's room, a large, lofty apart- 
 ment, with galleries on three sides. Mrs. Preston was 
 f asleep. She had wept herself to sleep, as children do. 
 It had been a hard few hours to her, all the more 
 hard because Mammy had not come to rub her feet, 
 and do the numberless little things which had become 
 so necessary to her comfort. She would not suffer 
 Cassia to take her place. She could not understand 
 why Mammy should have neglected her, especially 
 on such an occasion. 
 
 "Now, when she is going to have so much when 
 she knew how hard it would be for me I have no 
 doubt, Cassia, she is talking to Harriet and Chloe, 
 and telling them all kinds of things about me." 
 
 Poor Mammy ! she was locked in her own cabin. 
 She was down on her knees, telling God, God only, 
 how hard her duty was. Telling him again about 
 the three sons and the one young pretty daughter 
 that were she knew not where. Asking him to 
 send from among his legions of angels just one one 
 of the humblest with a message from her heart to 
 theirs. " Dey kin come back to me now, Lord," she 
 pleaded ; " gib dem de heart to do it, and show 'em 
 de way." 
 
 Her children had been her first thought. She had 
 
FREEDOM. 19 
 
 quite forgot madam until just before Cassia saw 
 Uncle Isaac go to the kitchen with Jeff and Scip ; 
 yet she had fully intended to do her usual duties, 
 and when she rose from her knees and remembered 
 them, her heart reproached her, and she went quickly 
 to madam's room. Cassia met her at the door. Her 
 sad, anxious face troubled Mammy. 
 
 " I clean forgot, Miss Cassia. I did, sure. I wont 
 do so any more." 
 
 " She missed you very much, Mammy." 
 " I'se mighty sorry. I'll stay wid her now." 
 u No, no ; I will remain to-night. Go and be glad 
 with the rest, Mammy. You ought to be." 
 
 Yet though she had told Mammy to go, she 
 watched her across the yard with a feeling of deser- 
 tion. All the foundations of her life were shaken, 
 and what was to come next she could not even imag- 
 ine. Though her mother slept heavily, she found it 
 impossible to rest. As the moon rose high the breeze 
 from the gulf came with it. She pushed aside the 
 tangle of the jasmine, and leaned over the gallery 
 to catch the cool freshness, as it fluttered the long 
 streamers of gray moss, and talked soughfully with 
 the vast pecans and thick mulberries. 
 
 She could hear down in the cabins the confn.^d 
 noise of a tumult that was altogether joyful ; broken 
 laughter, little cries, the echo of conversation, the 
 
20 THE LOST SILVER OF BEIFFAULT. 
 
 movement of feet, the rattle of dishes. She tried to 
 put herself in the place of those holding such glad 
 festival, and to feel something of their wonder and 
 their gratitude. But it was impossible for her, all at 
 once, to grasp the feelings and thoughts which beat 
 against her consciousness, like waves against the 
 shore, leaving only a drift of things behind them. 
 With dropped hands, and a soul weary and heavy 
 with emotion, she sat listening. Perhaps she fell 
 asleep, for when she moved it was with a start, and 
 the midnight hour was softly striking on her mothers 
 little Swiss clock. The wind had ceased, and the hot, 
 still air was full of low whispers of song that swelled 
 gradually into a burst of triumphant melody. She 
 could not resist it. 
 
 " This tiling can never, never, never happen again 
 while the world lasts ! I will at least be a witness to 
 the joy of it." With this thought she went to an 
 open window which overlooked the yard. Uncle 
 Isaac sat in the full moonlight ; the rest of the liber- 
 ated servants were on the ground around him, or 
 upon the door-steps of the nearest cabins. But Scip 
 stood by his side, and it was his voice, in a low, in- 
 tense, whispering song, that had first startled her : 
 
 " Go down, Moses, 
 Go down, Moses, 
 Go down Moses, 
 
FREEDOM. 21 
 
 Go down into Egypt, 
 And tell King Pharaoh 
 To let my people go 1 " 
 
 With every line the man's soul gathered a passion 
 of feeling that no words can translate ; and at the 
 last one every voice joined in a chorus of the same 
 gradual gathering of sound and feeling : 
 
 " Let ray people go ! 
 Let my people go I 
 Let my people go ! " 
 
 The majority of Kegroes are fine improvisers, and 
 in the same manner Scip went over the whole story 
 of the liberation of Israel in Egypt. He was black as 
 ebony, but as he stood there, in his grand massive 
 manhood, and stretching out his bare arm, began : 
 
 44 Stretch out de rod, 
 Stretch it ober de river," 
 
 Cassia was troubled, and her heart was full of a 
 sympathy that she would not try to analyze. 
 
 " Moses shout and Miriam sing I " 
 
 Then Scip's sister, Hannah, and his wife Sadie, 
 chanted the verses with him. till he gave the key-line 
 to the last jubilant chorus : 
 
 " Hallel ujah, Moses ! Hallelujah ! 
 Pass ober de Red Sea ! 
 Pass ober de Red Sea ! 
 Pass ober de Red Sea ! " 
 
22 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 In the bright moonlight the scene had a weird and 
 mystical grandeur, and though the meeting did not 
 quite break up until the pathos of 'the setting moon 
 was over it, and the gray dawn creeping up the 
 eastern slope, Cassia lingered at the window, watch- 
 ing and listening until the last half-dozen went slowly 
 to their separate cabins, singing softly : 
 
 " Peter, go ring dem bells ! 
 Peter, go ring dem bells 1 
 Peter, go ring dem bells ! 
 I heard from heabeu to-day ! 
 
 My Lord, what a morning 1 
 
 My Lord, what a morning! 
 
 My Lord, what a morning ! " 
 
 It is one of the saddest conditions of humanity that 
 it cannot carry its loftiest enthusiasms into its daily 
 work ; nay, that they very often make daily work a 
 hard and dreary thing. The feeling in the Preston 
 household when the sun rose, and another day was to 
 begin, was one of lassitude and even crossness. 
 Usually Mammy brought madam and Cassia a cup 
 of strong coffee to their rooms about six o'clock ; but 
 it was long after seven when she appeared, and 
 madam had become irritable and tearful, for want of 
 her usual stimulant. An ordinary servant might 
 have been reproved for negligence; but the re- 
 lation between mistress and liberated slave was as 
 
FREEDOM. 23 
 
 yet extraordinary and undetermined. Madam was 
 silent and injured ; Mammy resented the attitude as 
 unsympathetic and exacting. 
 
 As for Cassia, she had a most unhappy day. She 
 saw that, at noon, the cows were still in the pens 
 unmilked ; and the breakfast cooking in the cabins. 
 The men were lounging about the kitchen, the 
 women visiting each other and quite neglectful of 
 their regular duties. Nor was this state of affairs to 
 be wondered at. With the average intellect of chil- 
 dren, they had also their ready propensity to make a 
 holiday. And no one could deny that their circum- 
 stances excused the holiday feeling. It was per- 
 fectly natural that the first meaning of freedom to 
 them, should be a condition of freedom from labor. 
 
 They were weary, also, with the excitement of the 
 night, and to a majority of them had come, for the 
 first time in their lives, a care and an anxiety about 
 the future. Chloe's remark, as she fried the rice 
 cakes for breakfast : " I'se not gwine to stay here. 
 Tse neber feel free on dis place, " had only voiced 
 the feeling dominant in most hearts. To dare to 
 leave the place ! To dare to take all their belong- 
 ings with them, and go into the nearest town, and 
 find a home for themselves ! This was the general 
 ambitious desire ; and yet they knew so little of the 
 world ; they had such an exaggerated idea of its 
 
24: THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 dangers, and were so thoroughly under their heredi- 
 tary fear of the dominant race, that the undertaking 
 was a momentous one, full of real anxieties, and of 
 many shadowy dangers. 
 
 For three days Cassia bore, with admirable patience, 
 the hourly provocations of her position. Then it be- 
 came clear to her that the men had no intention of 
 working the farm. They were simply idling around, 
 waiting for something to turn up. They had many 
 hopes of houses and lands of their own ; they had 
 been told that when the victorious army entered 
 Texas with the provisional government, something 
 extraordinary would be done for them. They were 
 simple as children, and they believed that, at the very 
 least, the property of their old masters would be 
 divided among them ; and most had fully deter- 
 mined in their own minds what particular portion 
 should be their own. 
 
 " I was born'd on de place, and I'se got a right to 
 some of it," said Mammy to Chloe ; " if dey'll gib me 
 de down stairs and de cows and de chickens, I kin 
 git along fust rate ; and I'se not gwine to hab de 
 madam 'sturbed at all ; she's welcome as sunshine to 
 her ole room." 
 
 "I'se gwine to La Salle, sister Cirida," answered 
 Chloe ; " I'se got folks dar, and I'se sick of dis place. 
 I don't feel free wid Miss Cassia's voice in my ear, 
 
FREEDOM. 25 
 
 and dat weary tinkle, tinkle of de madam's little 
 bell. I jist hates it. 1'se gwine to La Salle ; plenty 
 of big Louses roun' dar, and, please God, I'll git my 
 share in some ob dem." 
 
 There was no general noisy leave-taking, but one 
 by one the servants stole away, usually in the night. 
 And every day there was some change in their man- 
 ner, which pained and angered Cassia. A certain 
 latitude of speech had always been permitted them, 
 as well as a familiarity which had its rise in the 
 family character of the tie, as it had existed ; but 
 when they became simply " hired servants," this fa- 
 miliarity, intensified by their ignorant conception of 
 the rights freedom gave them, was an offense. 
 
 One hot afternoon, as Cassia lay languidly fanning 
 herself under the mosquito netting, Mammy entered 
 hurriedly. " Miss Cassia," she said, " Uncle Isaac's 
 granddaughter has done come fur him. She says de 
 ole man's all de kinfolks she's got, and she's boun' to 
 hav' him." 
 
 " O, Isaac is going, too, is he ? Yery well." 
 " He'd like fur to see you, Miss Cassia, 'fore he goes 
 'way." 
 
 " I don't suppose he really cares ; but I can come." 
 
 She spoke coldly and rose with reluctance. The 
 
 old man stood beside a little ox wagon, into which all 
 
 his earthly goods had already been packed. A mid- 
 
26 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 die-aged mulatto woman was standing beside it. Her 
 face was not at all pleasant or conciliating, but 
 through sheer force of habit, and quite in despite of 
 her inclination, she dropped Cassia a courtesy. Isaac 
 extended his bony wrinkled hand, and said, " Good- 
 bye, missee! De Lord bless you ebermore. I'se 
 been in de fambly eighty-two years ! Pretty hard to 
 go 'way from it, now." 
 
 " Don't go, uncle. You have your cabin, and are 
 as welcome now, as ever, to all you need." 
 
 " Judy wants me. I'm an ole man. I 'tended to 
 go to heaben from de little cabin I love ; but 
 freedom done bring in changes, many changes, Miss 
 Cassia. I was born'd free, and now I shall die free, 
 bless de Lord ! I asked him for dis ting tire him 
 out, askiii' fur it and now I'se kind ob sorry 
 'bout it." 
 
 "Sorry to die free?" 
 
 " Yes, I'se so ole, I kind ob sorry 'bout it. When 
 my son, Jake, die that was 'fore you born'd, Miss 
 Cassia he talk heap 'bout de angels comin' down to 
 de riber-side to set him free ; said dey comfort him 
 so, spoke sich kind words to him. Mighty fine 
 ting to be set free by de angels, and de heabenly 
 trumpets all a-blowin', and de hosts of de Lord 
 a-shoutin' ! " 
 
 The old slave spoke out of the fullness of a heart 
 
FREEDOM. 27 
 
 set to the idea of freedom. He had no intention of 
 wounding Cassia, no thought of petty triumph in 
 his remark ; but she winced under it, and asked, ab- 
 ruptly, if he wished to see the madam. 
 
 "Come, gran'pa, we'se got no time fur to fool 
 roun' eleven miles to go 'fore sunset." 
 
 The tone admitted of no dispute, and Isaac, like 
 a chidden child, answered : 
 
 " Fse got to go, Miss Cassia. Come on me kind ob 
 Imrried-like. Tell de madam I leave my 'spects 
 ebermore to her." 
 
 Tears were in his eyes for one moment ; the next 
 his wrinkled face beamed with all the interest and 
 delight of a boy going on a pleasure journey. 
 
 And how could Cassia feel glad with him, when 
 her own heart and home were being left desolate, and 
 she was full of care and sorrow ? She went back to 
 her room indignant. She did really feel as if the 
 servants had been ungrateful and treacherous. They 
 had lived wastefully on the small stock of provisions 
 left ; they had shared them, also, with every passing 
 freedman or woman ; and yet they had not, in any 
 single instance, fulfilled the promises they had made 
 her. Even Mammy was changed ; she was moody 
 and restless, and spent most of her time at the gates, 
 chatting with Negroes moving into the towns. 
 
 One morning Cassia woke up with a blind, beating, 
 
28 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 nervous headache. The sun was pouring into the 
 room, the shades were undrawn, the flies excessively 
 tormenting. For a few minutes her physical suffer- 
 ing was the only fact very clear to her, but suddenly 
 an idea struck her with the invincible force of a pre- 
 sentiment Mammy! She must have gone, too! 
 She dressed hastily and went to her mother's room. 
 Mrs. Preston was almost hysterical. It was nearly 
 eight o'clock, and no one had been near her. She 
 was as distressed as a neglected babe. As Cassia went 
 
 O 
 
 to the kitchen she looked into Mammy's cabin. It 
 was as empty as all the others. A bare floor, four 
 bare walls, the floor swept clean, the door shut forever 
 to the feet that had worn away the wooden step in 
 front of it. 
 
 The fire had been lit in the kitchen, the kettle placed 
 beside it, and the coffee ground ready for the morn- 
 ing's first draught. But Cassia sat down on the raw- 
 hide chair, which had been Chloe's throne, and felt ut- 
 terly unable to grasp the situation. So many things 
 were necessary which she had never done in her life. 
 Cool water was the first, but the well was very deep, 
 and the bucket and iron chain the only means of 
 reaching it. It hurt her hands to pull it, even a 
 quarter full ; and there was bread to bake, and no 
 wood cut to bake it with. 
 
 And O, how lonely and still were the once noisy 
 
FREEDOM. 29 
 
 quarters ! Only a few weeks ago and the six o'clock 
 cup of coffee and the plentiful breakfast at nine 
 o'clock had seemed institutions as certain and regular 
 as day-break. Very often, in the early morning, she 
 had been used to walk round by the kitchen and look 
 in at Chloe's domain. What a chattering hubbub 
 there had always been there ! What a pleasant aroma 
 of baking corn and wheat, of frying chicken or broil- 
 ing steak ! She fancied she could see Fanny and 
 Melissa running between the house and the kitchen 
 with the food and dishes, could see Mammy care- 
 fully arranging her mother's special tray, could see 
 the children playing about the yard, and Celia, the 
 laundress, washing in the shade of the mulberry -trees, 
 and singing, clear and sweet, above all other noises. 
 
 To such thoughts she watched the coffee boil, and 
 then she took her mother the much-needed refresh- 
 ment. There was no necessity to tell her what had 
 happened. She understood it when Cassia brought 
 in the tray. 
 
 " Such ingratitude ! " she moaned. " Mammy al- 
 ways had the finest dresses, the best room, the most 
 time, the least to do, of any servant round here. 1 
 don't see how she could be so cruel " 
 
 " Mother dear, there is no use now in complaining. 
 We are alone, and we are in danger. Parties of 
 freedmen are constantly passing. They all stop. 
 
30 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 While Mammy was here they considered she had a 
 claim on the place, and respected it ; but if they find 
 out we are alone, you know what may happen you 
 know what has happened and we have not heard the 
 half. What is to be done ? " 
 
 " O, if John would come ! It is so cruel, so 
 thoughtless. He must know " 
 
 " If John is alive he is coming as fast as a mortal 
 man can come. But he is not here, and we must de- 
 cide at once." 
 
 " Lock the doors." 
 
 " Then they will think the place deserted, and 
 break into it. We should be at their mercy." 
 
 " But they will not dare to injure us 1 We are so 
 near town so well known. They would be found 
 out and arrested at once." 
 
 " There are no officers, and there is no law. The 
 Confederate government is dead ; no other has taken 
 its place yet. The last time I went to town I was 
 terrified at the faces I saw. The streets were full of 
 silent, somber, waiting Negroes, and at every corner 
 groups of white men were sitting, stern and watchful. 
 The Negroes far outnumber the whites ; the towns 
 must be protected, the farms mast protect them- 
 selves." 
 
 " What must we do, then ? " 
 
 " I thought of riding over to Briffault's. I heard 
 
FREEDOM. 31 
 
 Mammy telling some passing Negroes that the cap- 
 tain had got back, and that none of their ' hands ' had 
 dared to leave the place. Perhaps they will be able 
 to help us, or, at any rate, to tell us what it is best 
 to do." 
 
 " We have never been friends with the Briffaults. 
 I don't think you ought to go there, Cassia. The 
 house always had a dreadful name. I have heard it 
 said that it is unlucky to enter those big iron gates 
 that no one prospers afterward who does so." 
 
 " I don't believe ' they say,' and I cannot leave you 
 long enough to go anywhere else, mother. Our 
 nearer neighbors are as badly off as ourselves. I 
 think it is the only thing to do." 
 
 Fortunately Cassia's pony had been taught to come 
 at her call, and she also understood thoroughly how 
 to saddle him. So, about three o'clock, she left her 
 mother alone, and, riding in the shadow of the woods 
 lining the banks of the stream, she managed to keep 
 up a swift and steady gallop. 
 
 The Briffault ranch was seven miles away, and 
 she knew its locality well, though she had never 
 passed its gates ; for it was built at the very edge of 
 u swamp, and at certain seasons was almost unap- 
 proachable, except to those familiar with the treach- 
 erous paths. But in August there was no danger, and 
 the place was a wilderness of beauty. The great 
 
THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 trees were so heavily draped with moss that she 
 seemed at intervals to be riding through a tent. The 
 sward was of the deepest green, and decked with the 
 most brilliant flowers. Vines of miraculous color 
 hung in all sorts of fantastic festoons. Birds of 
 such splendid plumage that they looked like flying 
 gems flitted silently through the patches of sunshine, 
 and every-where the sense of deep repose brooded, 
 only broken by those mysterious forest sounds which 
 haunt the lonely woods. 
 
 Here Nature laid a large, still, cool hand upon Cas- 
 sia's fevered heart, and she rode slower, arid let the 
 peace around sink into it, and calm her from head to 
 feet. Presently she came in sight of the house, a 
 large wooden building with deep latticed galleries. 
 It stood in a kind of natural park, densely shaded, 
 and surrounded by a high brick wall, the only en- 
 trance being through large iron gates of elaborate 
 workmanship. Strange stories were told of these 
 gates, and Cassia certainly felt as if she had entered 
 a mournful shadow when she passed them. They 
 shut with an angry clang, and her horse shied and be- 
 came so restive that she did not mount him again, 
 but, gathering up her riding-dress over her left arm, 
 led him down the great avenue. 
 
 It was literally " down," for the house stood in a 
 hollow at the bottom of it. The trees met over her 
 
FKEEDOM. 33 
 
 head, and the long, still banners of gray moss made a 
 light inexpressibly shadowy and mournful. As she 
 came nearer to the house she saw Captain Briffault 
 coming to meet her. He carried his straw hat in his 
 hand, and was exceedingly handsome, with the air of 
 a man of fashion rather than of soldierly command. 
 He had divined who she was, and he put her quite at 
 ease by an introduction which left nothing but assent 
 necessary. And Cassia entered at once without cere- 
 mony upon the business which had brought her to 
 Briffault. 
 
 " We are quite alone, captain, mother and I, and 
 we are afraid, and want help and advice." She did 
 not feel as if any apology for the past was either 
 necessary or in good taste. 
 
 He looked at the beautiful, anxious girl, with inter- 
 est and admiration at her large brown eyes, and full, 
 calm lips lips which gave him, in their every move- 
 ment, the idea of sincerity and repose. The long 
 folds of her habit, and the drooping plumes in her 
 hat, imparted grace and dignity to her tall figure ; and 
 though Briffault did not at the moment analyze these 
 things, he felt their united influence, and bowed 
 to it. 
 
 " Come in, Miss Preston ; my grandmother can 
 give you better advice than I can. It is only four 
 days since I returned. I should like you also to see 
 
34 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 ray little sister ; I brought her home with me, and 
 she is very lonely." 
 
 Then Cassia remembered that she had heard, at long 
 intervals, of a Miss Briffault ; but there was no fur- 
 ther remark on the subject, for they were at the foot 
 of a long flight of wooden steps, and a Negro man 
 was waiting for Cassia's horse. 
 
 " Shall I take de saddle off, Mass' Kayrnund ? " 
 
 Cassia answered the inquiry : " No, I shall need 
 him in half an hour." 
 
 " Saddle Don, and bring both horses here in half 
 an hour." 
 
 He spoke authoritatively, and the man bowed and 
 led Cassia's horse away. In the great central hall a 
 Negro woman was sitting sewing, and a pretty quad- 
 roon girl was just going up stairs with her arms full 
 of freshly-ironed laces. He opened the door of a 
 large, shady parlor. An old woman turned her head 
 and looked at them. She was dressed in white, with 
 a black lace shawl folded around her, a square of 
 black lace on her gray hair, and black rnitts covering 
 partially her thin, yellow hands. Her eyes were black 
 as coal, and they peered and flashed out of rings oi 
 darkness. She was nearly seventy years old, and her 
 face had been gathering something Satanic with every 
 year. Cassia's first thought was : " What a wicked- 
 looking old woman ! " 
 
FREEDOM. 35 
 
 She hated the Prestons, and at any other time 
 would have rejoiced in an opportunity for expressing 
 her dislike, but just then every feeling and every ef- 
 fort tended toward one object the preservation of her 
 power over her slaves. She had called them together 
 at the first whisper of their emancipation, scoffed at 
 the idea, and threatened them, not only with the ter- 
 rors of the lash and the pistol, but with a still greater 
 punishment something supernatural and awful. 
 They had long trembled before her ; they believed 
 firmly that she possessed dark and mysterious powers, 
 and she kept them in awe, as wild animals are kept 
 in subjection, as much by intellectual force as by the 
 dread of physical punishment. 
 
 " Go, if you dare," she said to them. " I shall 
 know all about it. I shall force you to come back 
 you understand what that means." 
 
 Their terror of madam was unbounded ; the very 
 vagueness of her threats increased it. None of the 
 Briffault hands had left ; but madam's watch for near- 
 ly six weeks had been a frightfully exhausting one. 
 She had almost lived with her hand upon her loaded 
 weapon. Most welcome had been the return of her 
 grandson, though she very soon perceived that he 
 had outgrown her authority, and had cultivated a will 
 quite equal to her own. Almost in the moment of 
 his arrival she had asked, with an air of displeasure : 
 
36 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " Why did you bring Gloria home ? She was safe 
 in the convent with the sisters." 
 
 " I wanted her at home. She is quite safe here." 
 
 " Safe ? And the slaves, all over, in a state of in- 
 surrection ! " 
 
 " There are no slaves now, and, therefore, no ques- 
 tion of insurrection. Why should people take what 
 is already their own ? " 
 
 From this position neither her anger nor scorn was 
 able to move him. He was very polite, but very pos- 
 itive, for he was quite sure that in a few days the ar- 
 rival of the provisional government would make fur- 
 ther resistance a criminal and foolish act. 
 
 Cassia stated their necessity to Madam Briffault, 
 and the case was one which touched her sympathy ; 
 but she declared herself unable to give any assistance. 
 She did not wish her slaves to leave her own land ; 
 she was very much averse to their even learning that 
 the Preston ranch had been deserted. It lay, also, 
 directly upon the high road to Galveston, and, under 
 the circumstances, she did not think it wise to allow 
 a man or woman to go there. 
 
 To this excuse Raymund Briffault listened with 
 great annoyance. u Miss Preston," he answered, 
 " Madam Briffault cannot understand, for she has not 
 seen, the changed world the deserted farms, the 
 empty homes, the towns full of absolutely idle, be- 
 
FREEDOM. 37 
 
 cause absolutely free, Negroes. I will speak to my 
 own servant, Adrian. He will probably, at my de- 
 sire, hire himself to you. He was in camp with me, 
 is a good cook, and will be worth, at this time, more 
 than a couple of women." 
 
 He left the room, and madam's face eloquently ex- 
 pressed her indignation and dislike. She had been 
 disobeyed, and almost reproved, for the sake of Cas- 
 sia Preston, and she promised herself not to forget the 
 circumstance. And, although she did not speak, she 
 managed to make the room feel so intolerable that 
 Cassia was on the point of leaving it when she heard 
 the rustle of starched muslins trailing down the 
 wooden stars, and then a light footstep and a little 
 sharp, rippling laugh. At the same moment the 
 door opened and a young girl entered. She bowed 
 to madam, but went forward to Cassia with a pretty 
 effusiveness : 
 
 " Raymund told me to come to you, and I was so 
 glad. Can you imagine how dreary it is here ? The 
 convent at San Antonio was the gay world to this 
 green desert." She had seated herself beside Cassia 
 and taken her hand, and she chatted away like a 
 school-girl among her mates. " My name is Gloria, 
 and I am Kaymund's only sister." It was in such 
 unconventional style she introduced herself, and Cas- 
 sia felt the interruption so pleasant that she was more 
 
38 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 demonstrative than it was either her nature or her 
 custom to be. However, Gloria was not a girl with 
 whom it was possible to have ceremonies. 
 
 She was sixteen years old, but she had a singularly 
 child-like look and manner. Her head was small, and 
 covered with short, black, clustering curls ; her eyes 
 eager and brilliant. She had a red, handsome mouth, 
 with swift smile, and small, sharp teeth ; and her at- 
 titudes were full of little graceful movements, with 
 frequent curious turns of the neck, as if she was list- 
 ening. Altogether a fascinating, bright little woman, 
 and yet, in spite of her pretty petulance and vivacity, 
 she affected Cassia with a species of sadness. 
 
 Yery soon Eaymund returned. He had sent Ad- 
 rian in advance. " He has with him a swift horse 
 and a note, vouching for his good qualities, to Mrs. 
 Preston. I dare say he will have supper ready when 
 you reach home," he said, with an assuring smile. 
 He was dressed for riding, and the horses were wait- 
 ing. Cassia rose and bowed to Madam Briffault ; she 
 had advanced a few steps toward her, and would have 
 offered her hand, but, in some peculiar way, madam 
 made her feel that the courtesy would be unwelcome, 
 and, indeed, impossible. It was a relief to pass out 
 of her presence, and she felt sorry for the pretty, sad- 
 looking girl who watched her away. 
 
 After passing the gates they fell into an even, and 
 
FREEDOM. 39 
 
 almost silent, gallop. The prairie was so still and 
 dim, the stars so bright, their own personalities so 
 vague and unknown to each other, that the ride 
 made upon the consciousness of each the impression 
 of a ride in a dream. Cassia had a feeling that if she 
 shut her eyes she might go riding, riding on for- 
 ever. But ere long they came to the Preston place, 
 and, with a grateful heart, the tired, hungry girl saw 
 the dancing fire-light in the big kitchen. Adrian, in 
 his white cap and apron, was standing in its glow, 
 mixing the batter for a gravy. He heard their 
 horses' feet, and ere his master called, he was hast- 
 ening to the gate; for Adrian gave a service of 
 love, and Cassia perceived, that, to please Ray- 
 mund, he had come willingly, for their comfort and 
 protection. 
 
 " The coffee is on, captain ; and the biscuit ; and I 
 am making the gravy for the fried chicken. To- 
 morrow you must send Japhet to cut some wood 
 and drive up a couple of cows." 
 
 Raymund smiled his approval, and acting on 
 the moment's grateful impulse, Cassia touched his 
 hand, and said : " Will you dismount, and eat with 
 us?" 
 
 The fair lifted face was not to be refused. He 
 answered gladly, " Yes, I will." They went in to- . 
 gether, and he sighed comfortably as he looked 
 
4:0 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT 
 
 around the room in which Cassia left him. It was 
 so pleasantly white and cool. It was in such spotless 
 order, and it had such a delicious atmosphere of re- 
 pose, mingled with the faint perfume of sleeping 
 flowers. 
 
 Cassia was agreeably surprised by the improve- 
 ment in her mother's condition. The crisis had 
 effectually aroused her. The fright incident to her 
 position had driven away the inertness of her sorrow. 
 She had left her sofa and was walking restlessly 
 about the room. When she saw Cassia she said, with 
 a trembling smile of satisfaction : " There is a fire in 
 the kitchen again ; it is really good to see it ; and the 
 boy whom Captain Briffault sent is making supper. 
 I wish it was ready, dear ; I believe I am actually 
 hungry." 
 
 " That is a good thing to hear you say, mother ; 
 and Captain Briffault is going to eat supper with us. 
 Come into the dining-room to-night ; a little company 
 will do you good." 
 
 The appeal, so often resisted before, was listened 
 to at this hour. It seemed a relief to the anxiety 
 and loneliness of her position, to discuss it with some 
 one stronger and wiser than herself. So, leaning upon 
 Cassia's arm, she went into the dining-room, and the 
 gay, handsome, hopeful soldier soon won his way 
 with the invalid recluse. The supper was excellent, 
 
FREEDOM. 41 
 
 every one was ready for it, and Adrian waited on them 
 with such cheerful willingness and trained dexterity, 
 that Cassia thought she had never in all her life eaten 
 so pleasant a meaL For of such diverse elements 
 has God made this wondrous human nature that we 
 cannot help, even in sorrow, feeling the comfort of 
 a fleeting joy. 
 
 Nights were terrible at that time; full of vague 
 fears of possible tragedies tragedies whispered on 
 every hand with bated breath and sick hearts and 
 all were glad to shorten them. The meal was con- 
 sciously lengthened out ; then Captain Briffault sat 
 with the anxious ladies until midnight, talking softly 
 and solemnly of the cause which had been so bravely 
 fought for and so totally lost. Many a one was 
 named whose place would know him no more ; and 
 others, whose fate was yet unknown, but for whose 
 possible return tender hearts watched with the ter- 
 rible sickness of hope long deferred. 
 
THE LOST SILVEK OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 " Then she came to me, 
 Walking in white, and bearing in her hand 
 A cup of blessing. As the waters cool 
 Which flow from mountain tops, to meet the hot 
 And thirsty valleys, so she came to me." 
 
 HABIT is the reconciler of men, even to the most 
 unlooked-for destiny. In a few weeks after 
 these events, life had settled down into its new 
 grooves on the Preston ranche ; and though it worked 
 unevenly, and with many a painful restraint, Cassia 
 gathered courage, and was able to look into the future 
 with a hopeful heart. One night she walked down 
 to the great gates with Raymund Briffault. He was 
 not saying much to her, but he was making silence 
 more eloquent than speech ; and Cassia was feeling 
 all the charm of his bending face, and all the sweet- 
 ness of his fervent, delicate admiration. For Ray- 
 mund Briffault was, in the widest sense of the word, a 
 fascinating man. Tall, handsome, graceful, with a 
 subtle mixture of daring and wooing in his manner ; 
 he had also a character full of surprises and impossi- 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 43 
 
 bilities, whose "yes" might mean "no," in which 
 two and two might make five, and who would be 
 likely always to do the improbable. But Cassia was 
 content with the visible, tangible joy he brought her ; 
 she had an instinctive dread of analyzing her happi- 
 ness; it seemed like pulling a flower to pieces in 
 order to tabulate its peculiarities. 
 
 He was leading his horse, and she walked by his 
 side, her lovely face one flush of youth and joy and 
 beauty. Suddenly they saw a horseman emerge from 
 the shadows and approach the gates. 
 
 " It is John ! " said Cassia, joyfully ; and the next 
 moment, John had sprung from his horse, and folded 
 her to his breast. Then he looked at Raymond, but 
 ere Cassia could speak, Raymund put out his hand, 
 and uttered two magic words, " My comrade ! " 
 They made a claim John responded to at once, 
 though he promised himself to look much further 
 with all due promptitude. 
 
 The next clay he went into Galveston, and easily 
 found two of his old servants, Jeff and Morris. He 
 sat down beside them, and said : " I know you are 
 tired of wandering about among strangers, come 
 home, boys ! No one can care for you as I can ; no 
 one will give you better wages." 
 
 " Bress de Lord, we see you again, Mass' John ! 
 We'se had a hard time. We'se been made fool ob, 
 
44 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 ebery way nobody lias giben us either lands or 
 stock or place far to lay our heads down." 
 
 " Nobody will, Jeff. You must do as poor white 
 men have to do, set to work, make jour money, and 
 save your money. I am ready to help you. I must 
 go to work with you. The old place is deep in debt, 
 but it is better to me than any other place. Your 
 cabins are empty, and look dreadful lonesome. Get 
 your wives and children and come home. The 
 Prestons are Prestons ; black and white, they ought 
 to pull together." 
 
 The men were thankful for the words. They had 
 wandered about, homeless and idle ; camping in corn- 
 fields or in some deserted out-house ; spending their 
 savings, selling their goods, looking forward with 
 dread to the approaching winter. In a short time 
 John Preston had sufficient help on the place to work 
 it profitably. He had no fear of further trouble 
 with his servants. They had come to understand 
 that the government's idea of liberty was not to sup- 
 port them in idleness, but to give them the opportu- 
 nity to realize and enjoy the fruits of their labor. 
 They trusted John Preston, and John fully deserved 
 their confidence. He gave them the utmost penny of 
 their right, he added to it many a slice from his own 
 loaf. 
 
 He had gone to the war a gay, high-principled 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 45 
 
 youth, satisfied of the justice of his cause, and willing, 
 if the sacrifice was demanded, to give his life for it. 
 He had come back a far grander man. In hours of 
 lonely suffering, in dark and dangerous watches, in 
 captivity, and on battle-fields, he had learned lessons 
 of awfully solemn import, and every lesson had lifted 
 him nearer to the Infinite. He had a tender heart, 
 he had a great patience. He had faith in God and 
 man. 
 
 He looked upon Kaymund Briffault as a grand pos- 
 sibility. He would not advise Cassia to marry him, 
 but if love drew her soul to his, he would on no 
 account interfere. Mrs. Preston was of a different 
 opinion. 
 
 " Kay is a charming fellow, John," she said ; " but 
 I know that charming fellows, as a rule, do not make 
 good husbands. Why should Cassia spend her life 
 in reforming or elevating any of the Briffaults ? 
 They have always been a restless, wicked set." 
 
 "Why should men spend their lives in preaching 
 for a pittance ? Or go to heathen lands to be slain, 
 or die of fever and neglect ? Why should women 
 devote themselves to nursing the sick and poor ? To 
 constant acts of charity and of self-denial ? It is not 
 their particular business, mother, only, that being 
 the sons and daughters of God, they feel constrained, 
 as their elder Brother did, to be about their Father's 
 
4:6 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 business. The drawing of two lives together by a 
 true love is a providence. Mother, I will not coun- 
 sel Cassia to thwart it. They who cross destiny have' 
 accidents and sorrows, and have to weave their whole 
 after-life from a tangled skein." 
 
 " If you had only seen the grandmother, John. 
 She is dreadful. Cassia says so, and yet she would 
 have to live with her." 
 
 " I am going there this afternoon ; then, perhaps, 
 I shall see her." 
 
 " Don't go, John. You might meet Kay's sister. 
 She came here once, and I took a great dislike to her 
 the silliest, most disagreeable girl! I am sure I 
 was very kind to her, and she has never called again. 
 I suppose madam has heard that you were at home, 
 and has forbidden her to do so." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; I would not be a desirable lover for 
 her, with my whole estate under a mortgage." 
 
 "You are a very desirable lover, John, for any 
 good girl in our own set. I wish you would go and 
 see Mollie Johnson. She is such a nice girl ! Her 
 grandfather left her six thousand dollars. It would 
 clear the place, and let you begin life with both hands 
 free. Mollie took such an interest in your letters, 
 John ; I used to read them to her and show her your 
 likeness, and I am sure she couldn't help loving you." 
 
 "Mother dear, no one can say to love 'go there' 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 47 
 
 nor ' come here.' On the contrary, a man goes where 
 love sends him." 
 
 " O John, I am afraid ! I am afraid of your go- 
 ing to Briffault. Why must you go ? " 
 
 " Ray wants a strong team of horses. I promised 
 to let him know when Blackwell came again. He is 
 at Shallow Springs now." 
 
 " Send a servant." 
 
 " They are all too busy. My time is of less value 
 than theirs." 
 
 " O dear me ! I am so much afraid, John ! " 
 
 He sat down beside her, and said, gravely : " I don't 
 order my own life, mother. * My times are in His 
 hand.' Not even your hand is as wise and kind. I 
 am sure you can trust Him." 
 
 " I don't know, John ; if you would go and see 
 Mollie Johnson, I am sure it would be all right. 
 But when men run into danger, that is a different 
 thing." 
 
 Here Cassia entered, and the conversation being 
 renewed, it was finally agreed that she should accom- 
 pany John to Briffault's, an arrangement at which he 
 privately smiled, for he could not conceive how his 
 sister's presence was to afford him any special pro- 
 tection ; nor, indeed, had Mrs. Preston any clear 
 idea about the results of her own tactics ; she only 
 murmured to herself, as they rode away together, " It 
 
48 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 is so hard to tell ; but if you don't know what to do, 
 one woman against another woman is generally safe ; 
 and I don't believe that Cassia can possibly like that 
 snake-eyed girl. It isn't natural that she should ! " 
 
 It was a lovely day though the fall was well ad- 
 vanced the air subtle, and full of amber and purple 
 haze ; the foliage thin and delicate-looking ; all nature, 
 in a measure, idealized. A feeling of irresistible 
 melancholy pervaded the swamp, intensified by the 
 shrill, plaintive cry of a little desolate bird, which 
 flitted on, from tree to tree, before them. Cassia 
 tried to push away the fateful feeling by an affected 
 mirthfnlness, but her pretty pleasantries fell on 
 John's ear like a melody out of tune. He knew not 
 what sad angel had passed them, but his soul was 
 sorrowful in all its senses. 
 
 At the gates John dismounted. He tried to shut 
 them quietly, but, in spite of his effort, they went 
 together with an angry clang that frightened the 
 birds from the trees and made him involuntarily put 
 his hands to his ears. Fifty yards farther up the 
 avenue, they were startled by the sound of some one 
 weeping bitterly. They stood still and listened. 
 
 " It's a child," said John, " only children sob in that 
 pitiful manner. Had you not better see what is the 
 matter, Cassia ? " 
 
 He helped her to dismount, and she pushed her 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 49 
 
 way through the slight openings in the wall of myr- 
 tles which hedged in the avenue. John stood with 
 the horses. In a few minutes he heard his sister 
 speaking in soothing tones, und, as she did not return 
 at once, he tied the horses and followed her. The 
 sounds led him to a circular hedge of myrtle 
 through which there was but one passage, then 
 nearly closed by the year's untrimmed shoots. The 
 interior was a place of graves, and by the side of 
 one, with her head upon it, lay Gloria Briffault. 
 Her face was next the turf, but Cassia lifted one of 
 her small hands, and said, with indignation, " Look 
 here, John ! " It was red and swollen, and had two 
 livid marks across it. "Her grandmother struck her 
 because she wanted to come and see me. Struck her 
 before the servants ! " 
 
 "It is shameful!" 
 
 "This is her mother's grave, John. She came 
 here in her pain and shame to weep. Gloria, my 
 poor child, here is my brother John." 
 
 John stooped to the weeping girl and urged her to 
 rise. She stretched out her wounded hand to him, 
 and he held it between his own, and stroked il 
 gently, as he would have done to a hurt baby. Thoi. 
 it seemed best to trust her to Cassia's sympathy, 
 while he went to the house upon his errand ; but he 
 
 said to his sister: "Induce her to leave these long 
 4 
 
50 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 grasses. It is unsafe for both of you. There are 
 sure to be snakes in such a locality." 
 
 He was pitiful and angry, and rather disturbed at 
 the interference in his neighbor's household affairs 
 which had been forced upon him. As he approached 
 the house, its gloomy defiant look was very remark- 
 able in the melancholy afternoon light. There 
 seemed to be the usual servants about the place, but 
 they were infected by its atmosphere, and went sul- 
 lenly about their work. As he mounted the steps 
 the door opened, and madam stood in the entrance. 
 On her yellow cheeks there was still the red spot of 
 passion, and the hand that rested upon her staff 
 trembled visibly. 
 
 "Well, sir ? " she asked. 
 
 " Is Captain Briffault at home ?" 
 
 " He is not at home. He is not likely to be home 
 for some hours." 
 
 " I wished to tell him that Blackwell is at Shallow 
 Springs, and has the horses he is in need of." 
 
 "Who are you, sir?" 
 
 " I am John Preston." 
 
 " I thought so. You Prestons have always been 
 great meddlers in other people's affairs. Let the 
 Briffaults' business alone, if you please.'' 
 
 John touched his hat. " Your age, madam, per- 
 mits you to say whatever you wish. I am very sorry 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 51 
 
 to meddle still further ; but I feel it right to tell you 
 that your granddaughter is in a condition requiring 
 your kind and immediate attention." 
 
 " Where is she ? " 
 
 " In your burial-ground. The grasses are full of 
 dangerous reptiles, the miasma from such a place is 
 now rising, and she is lying prone upon the ground." 
 
 " Just where she ought to lie. No position is too 
 humble for so disobedient and insolent a child. 
 Don't trouble yourself about my granddaughter, sir." 
 
 She shut the door with the words, and John was 
 left alone, to take them in whatever spirit he thought 
 proper. His face was somber and troubled when he 
 rejoined the two girls. They were standing in the 
 avenue waiting for him, Gloria leaning her aching 
 head against the saddle of his horse. She had her 
 riding habit on, but no hat, and Cassia had tied a little 
 pink kerchief over the girl's black, clustering ringlets. 
 She lifted her pretty head as John approached, and 
 smiled sadly a smile as wan as the first pale sun- 
 shine in a stormy sky. 
 
 John's manner was very gentle to her, but also 
 very firm, as he offered to assist her back to her 
 home. 
 
 " I will not go home," she answered. " If you 
 will not take rne with you, then I shall stay here until 
 Kay comes back. I will stay in the dark all alone. 
 
52 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 The snakes may bite me or the fever kill me. O, I'd 
 rather have a panther come in from the swamp and 
 eat me up than go back to grandma. She has in- 
 sulted and abused me. Ray wont ask me to go back." 
 
 " My dear little girl, it is your duty to go home 
 at any rate, until your brother decides for you/' 
 
 " I had done nothing to deserve punishment." 
 
 " The good sisters have told you how One that was 
 absolutely sinless was struck and reviled by wicked 
 men. I cannot take you with me. It would be 
 wrong. It would expose both you and Cassia and 
 myself to ill words and ill thoughts. Do right : it is 
 always best." 
 
 " Follow John's advice, Gloria," pleaded Cassia. 
 " To-morrow I will ask your brother to bring you 
 on a visit to us. We can make it a very long visit, 
 dear." 
 
 So, after much persuasion, Gloria permitted John 
 to take her to within a few yards of the entrance 
 steps. It was then almost dark ; the ride home was 
 a rapid one, and there was no further discussion of 
 the subject until they were seated at the supper-table. 
 John said little even then, but Cassia saw how ten- 
 derly his heart went out toward the pretty, passionate 
 girl. 
 
 From Cassia Mrs. Preston heard the whole affair, 
 and she was much annoyed by it. " That girl will 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 53 
 
 be here to-morrow, and that will be but the beginning 
 of trouble. Mind my words ! John will feel it to 
 be his duty to advise and guide her, and, before he 
 knows, he will be in love with her. Women like 
 Gloria Briffault make fools of the wisest men, and 
 men like Raymund Briffault make fools of the wisest 
 women ; but neither you nor John will listen to any 
 thing I say until it is too late." 
 " Ah, mother, 
 
 ' When all is thought, when all is said, 
 The heart still overrules the head ; 
 Still what we hope we must believe, 
 And what is given us receive.' " 
 
 " That is poetry, Cassia. Life is not poetry, and 
 you cannot make believe it is after you are married." 
 
 While mother and daughter talked in this mood 
 John walked slowly up and down the south veranda. 
 His heart was in a vague, sweet tumult, to which, 
 in his dimmest consciousness, he gave no name. He 
 only knew that he had felt his duty to be very hard, 
 and that he could not help being sorry, because 
 Gloria must necessarily think him stern and unfeel- 
 ing. While thus musing he heard the beating feet 
 of a horse at full gallop. " That is Ray," he thought, 
 and he felt a little nervous, for it was impossible to 
 tell in what manner Kay might have taken his inter- 
 ference, lie waited for his approach, but as he did 
 
54 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 not come, he went down the steps to meet him. As 
 he did so, Gloria slipped from the shadow and touched 
 him. 
 
 " You see I am here. Do not turn me out. Rav 
 
 * 
 
 will come for me." 
 
 If John was conscious of any feeling, it was of a 
 very pleasurable one. The little hand upon his arm 
 was a claim he could not resist. He bent kindly to 
 her, led her into the lighted parlor, and called Cas- 
 sia. How beautiful she was ! The rapid motion and 
 the night air had made her face like a pink rose lit 
 through with flame. Her eyes were bright as stars, 
 her soft, black hair tossed into the most picturesque 
 disorder. As a type of lovely girlhood she would 
 have attracted every eye that had the slightest percep- 
 tion of beauty. 
 
 By a masterly stroke she had won her way, and, 
 when she saw that there was no longer any opposi- 
 tion to it, she put on all the pretty airs of a victorious 
 woman. 
 
 " Did you think I was going in to say, ' Please 
 forgive me, grandma ? ' No, indeed ! I went to 
 Adrian, and he saddled my pony gladly for me. 
 Pshaw ! there was no danger ; but I can't help a little 
 laugh when I think of the nice time grandma and 
 Raymund will have together. Rayrnund is very fond 
 of me," she said, gravely. 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 55 
 
 It was really a pleasant tiling to watch her chang- 
 ing face as she talked, eating the while with all the 
 gusto of a hungry child, and daintily sipping the 
 chocolate she had specially desired. 
 
 But ere she had finished her meal she heard a fu- 
 rious gallop up the avenue. " That is Raymund ! 
 Now Cassia, now John, you must stand by me, 
 please ! " 
 
 Every one was prepared for a storm, but Ray- 
 mund came in as placid and smiling as a summer 
 noon. He took a cup of chocolate, talked to John 
 about the horses he wanted, sang a song with Cassia, 
 and, after an hour of pleasant intercourse, said: 
 " Come, Gloria, the moon has risen, and we shall 
 have a light ride." 
 
 There had not been a cross word spoken, and yet 
 no one had found it possible to name either Gloria's 
 trouble or the proposed visit. Indeed, Cassia would 
 have felt wretched at the whole tone of the evening if 
 Raymund had not whispered, ere he left : " Will you 
 grant me an hour's conversation in the morning ? " 
 
 When this question is asked of any woman she 
 generally knows what decision she will have to make. 
 Cassia thought she understood her own heart, but 
 when brought to this solemn verdict it shrank before 
 issues she had never, as yet, dared to face. To 
 marry Raymund Briffault meant to take his home and 
 
56 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 his people for her home and her people ; to dwell 
 constantly with the malicious grandmother, and to 
 bear daily with Gloria's impulsive and unreasonable 
 moods. It meant also, in a great measure, a resigna- 
 tion of all her sweet cares for her mother and John, 
 and the change from a cheerful, well-ordered home, 
 to one 
 
 " As damp and dark and dull, 
 As dreary, dismal dying, 
 As if a ban of curses full 
 Upon the place was lying." 
 
 Sitting alone with such thoughts at the solom mid- 
 night, she felt how easy it might be, and yet how 
 dreadful, to spoil a life by one mistake. Cassia had 
 a reverent soul, and she loved her God, but she 
 shrank from taking this perplexity to him. That he 
 cares for men and women individually, for all their 
 small joys and sorrows and anxieties, was a grandeur 
 of Providence not yet comprehended by her. So, 
 then, she missed that glorious promise of direction in 
 daily life : " And thine ears shall hear a word behind 
 thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye 
 turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left." 
 Isa. xxx, 21. 
 
 Yery little calmed and refreshed by her night's 
 vigil, she rose early, and dressed with unusual care. 
 It was the day of princess robes, and no style of gar- 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 5T 
 
 ment is more graceful and womanly. Cassia's, made 
 of soft amber-colored cashmere, with bands of fine 
 linen at the neck and wrists, and knots of poppy- 
 colored ribbons, set off most effectively the warm 
 pallor of her complexion, and the ample coils and 
 braids of her black hair. She had made up her mind 
 to speak to John about Raymund ; and she went to 
 his room to seek him. 
 
 John was an early riser. The six o'clock coffee 
 always found him dressed, and the interval between 
 it and breakfast he generally spent in reading, or in 
 attending to the accounts of the plantation. To 
 Cassia's u Can I come in, John ? " a ready and cheer- 
 ful answer was given. The morning was chill, and 
 a few cedar logs were blazing and snapping on the 
 hearth. John sat beside them with a book in his 
 hand. He put it down, and placed a chair for his 
 sister. 
 
 Woman-like, she did not at once enter upon the sub- 
 ject about which she was so anxious. She spoke of 
 having the carpet laid, and the windows cleaned, and 
 then let her eyes wander to the cavalry cap, and the 
 crossed swords, arranged above the chimney-piece. 
 John smiled, in his heart, and waited, watching her 
 meanwhile with a great brotherly love and pride. 
 Only one other face was fairer in his eyes the 
 bright, changeable, piquant face of Gloria Briffault. 
 
58 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 At length Cassia said, " John dear, I want to tell 
 you something. Kaymund is going to ask me to 
 marry him. What do you say ? " 
 
 " Do you love him, Cassia ? " 
 
 " With all my soul, John ; but there are some 
 very serious things to consider." 
 
 " Indeed, there are ! Death is less serious than 
 marriage. Death is not even a blow, it is only a 
 pause ; but marriage unrolls the awful lot of number- 
 less generations. It is not alone Eayrnund, but per- 
 chance his children, and grandchildren, you may be 
 responsible for." 
 
 " That is a solemn thought, John." 
 
 "And the responsibility goes not only forward, 
 but backward. I should say, that you must include 
 in your love Eaymund's grandmother and sister. If 
 you cannot do this, better not marry him, Cassia." 
 
 " That is what I fear, John. How can I live with 
 madam ? " 
 
 " Paul's receipt is the only one. He could do all 
 things through the cross of Christ." He lifted the 
 little book he had laid down at her entrance that 
 wonderful "Imitation of Christ," that Loyola read 
 twice each day ; that Massillon advised the clergy to 
 study next the Scriptures ; that John Wesley gave 
 to the Methodist Church (among whose members it 
 has had the largest sale of any spiritual book of disci- 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 59 
 
 pline) ; that Jean Jacques Rousseau wept over ; and 
 Racine set to verse, and Fontenelle declared to be the 
 best book written by man ; the book that Louis XVI. 
 read on his knees in the anguish of his imprisonment 
 in the temple ; that Dr. Johnson loved tenderly ; that 
 Whitefield kept constantly within reach. John Pres- 
 ton opened it at the twelfth chapter of the second 
 book, and read : " ' In the cross is salvation, in the 
 cross is life, in the cross is protection, in the cross 
 is strength of mind, in the cross is joy of spirit.' 
 There is a great work to do in that lonesome house, 
 Cassia ; if you have love enough to undertake it love 
 enough for God, love enough for Raymund, do not 
 fear ; but if you have the smallest doubt, remember 
 every good work is made weak by doubt." 
 
 "If I was only as wise and prudent as you are, 
 John." 
 
 "Kindness is prudence; love is the clearest and 
 highest of all wisdom." 
 
 " Love enough ! " It seemed to Cassia, when Ray- 
 mund pleaded his cause a few hours later, that it 
 would be possible for his sake to do and to bear all 
 things. Her heart was ringing to the music of his 
 words, and she accepted him without limit or reserva- 
 tion. Their betrothal was in the sunshine, as they 
 walked hand in hand among the late flowers ; while 
 the honey-bees were as busy as belated housewives, 
 
60 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 and the swallows were talking about their winter 
 travels, and the ripe nuts were dropping at their feet. 
 
 John joined them about the noon hour. He was 
 not the man to shadow one of their hopes. He gave 
 Raymund a brother's frank, warm welcome, and 
 took him in to see Mrs. Preston. She was less cor- 
 dial, and even a little tearful ; but mothers have their 
 own view of giving a daughter away, and in their 
 heart always look upon her marriage ceremonial as 
 having a little of the odor of human sacrifice 
 about it. 
 
 " No, John," she said, u I cannot pretend to be 
 very glad and pleased ; for I am not. When you 
 have a daughter of your own, and when you have 
 watched her through all kinds of sickness, and spent 
 days and nights in planning for her welfare, and 
 worried years and years about her, while she was at 
 school, you will understand me. And then, just 
 when her education is finished, and she has joined 
 the Church, and you begin to think you are going to 
 have some comfort with her, she marries, and goes 
 away from you." 
 
 " Girls must marry, mother." 
 
 " I don't see the must ; no, indeed, I don't, John. 
 If God had taken Cassia, we should have put on black 
 and lamented, as if something awful had happened. 
 But this Raymund Briifault who is not a good man 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 61 
 
 at all, and who had a very hard father and a very 
 dreadful grandfather comes along, and thinks he 
 would like to have our Cassia for his wife, and you 
 are all smiling and happy about it. I must say I 
 don't like it, and I don't think I have much reward 
 for twenty years of loving Cassia." 
 
 This was Mrs. Preston's view of the marriage, and 
 she was not a woman who could entertain two 
 views, much less weigh one with another. She felt 
 as if Kaymund had, somehow, robbed her, and though 
 she was always ladylike, she was silent and restrained 
 in his presence. The day after the betrothal Gloria 
 came to see Cassia. " It is the beginning of a new 
 life to me," she said. " I have been congratulating 
 myself ever since I heard it." 
 
 " I believe it will be, dear. I will try and make 
 you happy. When did Raymund tell you? " 
 
 " Just as soon as he got home. He could not 
 keep the news a moment. Would you like to hear 
 about it?" 
 
 " Yes, I should, if there is no reason for secrecy." 
 
 " Well, there's grandma ; she is a reason for most 
 any thing in the way of unpleasant talking ; but you 
 are in the family now, and you will have to take 
 your share of her. I was sitting by her side, drawing 
 threads out of linen to make lace, when Kaymund 
 came in like a hot norther. 
 
62 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " 'Don't bang the door, Raymund, and take jour hat 
 off in the hall.' Those were grandma's first orders ; 
 and Ray set the door wide open, and flung his hat on 
 the piano. You never can tell things to grandma, 
 she always knows them, and she asked in a moment : 
 
 " * Well, sir, is Cassia Preston going to marry you ? ' 
 And Ray answered, 
 
 " ' Yes, grandmother, she is going to do me that 
 great honor.' " 
 
 " And what did madam say then ? " 
 
 " She said, ' What an event ! I hope old Burke 
 Briffault will know it ! Why, the girl will be bring- 
 ing Bibles and hymn books to this house ! And she 
 will be on her knees, doubtless, in it, praying ! It 
 makes me laugh ! ' And she did laugh. Such a 
 cracked, thin laugh ; it was horrible, Cassia. Then 
 Ray said, ' We have been a wicked race, bad men 
 and worse women, and this house is haunted by mem- 
 ories of cruelty and evil-doing; it is well for me to 
 bring an angel here to purify it, as you say, by 
 prayer and pure living. Gloria, you are glad, are you 
 not?' And I threw my arms round his neck and 
 kissed him, and said, 'Yes, I was very glad, and I 
 would try and be good, and do all you told me.' 
 Then grandma rose from her chair and struck me on 
 my cheek ; and Ray said, ( that grandma should have 
 all the respect her age deserved, but that he was going 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 63 
 
 to be master in his own house ; and lie advised her 
 to have her rooms put in order, as you would be 
 mistress every-where else in it. 5 Also he said a word 
 for me : 4 Gloria is seventeen now, and I prefer that 
 she should not be struck again.' Then grandma left 
 the room in a rage, and she said some words too 
 dreadful to repeat." 
 
 "PoorRaymund!" 
 
 " Yes, indeed. Ray said he would rather face a 
 battery than a woman like grandma ; and he looked 
 so tired and sad, as he said he hoped i I would be 
 good, and give you no trouble.' I made him all kinds 
 of promises, and I asked him if I might come and 
 see you. That pleased him. O I know how to 
 manage Raymund ! " 
 
 The changes within the Briffault house, which 
 this conversation prefigured, began immediately. 
 Madam selected for herself the upper rooms on the 
 left side of it, and into them were carried the heavy 
 quaint furniture which had been bought at her own 
 bridal. Every thing that had any spe.cial memory 
 went there, even to the secretary and likeness of the 
 builder of the house, the old pirate who had sailed 
 with Lafitte, and held the orgies of hell on Galveston 
 island, when it was only a pirate's stronghold, and a 
 slaver's port. The picture of this Burke BrifFault she 
 put over her chimney-piece, and when she saw that 
 
64 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 Raymund looked at it curiously, she even conde- 
 scended to ask that it might remain in her care. 
 
 " I did not suppose you cared for your excellent 
 ancestor, Raymund ; and I do," she said. " He was 
 kind to me when I first came here, and he always 
 took my part when your grandfather behaved badly, 
 which he did twenty-four hours of every day of his 
 life. I should like to have the picture while I 
 live." 
 
 " By all means, grandmother. I never remember 
 noticing it before, and it effected me curiously that 
 is all." 
 
 It was a poor, crude, old-fashioned oil painting ; 
 yet there was something remarkable about it. It 
 represented a man in white pantaloons and blue coat 
 and vest, trimmed with brass buttons. He was lean- 
 ing against the rail of his ship, giving orders to crowd 
 on every inch of canvas ; and the lifted face was 
 dark and sharp, with keen eyes and a cruel smile. A 
 black mustache, waxed and pointed at the ends, gave 
 him a ferocious appearance. Certainly the face of a 
 man with whom no one would dare to trifle a 
 wicked man, with the taste of his own life bitter in 
 his mouth. 
 
 Raymond looked at it thoughtfully a moment, 
 then, without a word, turned on his heel and left the 
 room. He had his own cares of furnishing and paint 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 65 
 
 ing and papering, for he was determined to wipe out 
 the household traces of the past, as far as it was pos- 
 sible. Pale papers, white paint, matting for the floors, 
 cane furniture, and lace draperies for the windows, 
 were put in every room ; but he mingled with them 
 a few large soft lounges and chairs, upholstered in 
 faintest tints of blue and amber ; and some bright thick 
 rugs for the colder weather. The horse-hair and 
 mahogany, the heavy dark moreens, and the carpets, 
 which had kept the weary, passionate footfalls of 
 three generations, were all hid away in the great gar- 
 ret stretching over the whole house. 
 
 The marriage was a very quiet one. It took place 
 in the spring, when the warm air was tilled with a 
 dreamy, languorous sweetness, and the birds were 
 nesting and singing in every tree. John and Gloria 
 filled the second parts in the ceremony, and it was 
 very natural, after mouths of pleasant intercourse, 
 that the position suggested to both hearts thoughts of 
 a still closer and dearer tie in the future. At this 
 time it was John who hesitated. Mrs. Preston had 
 never conquered her dislike to Gloria, and in her 
 frail condition John could not bear to add to the dis- 
 satisfaction she felt in the Briffault connection. 
 
 One night she had held his brown cheeks in her 
 wasted hands, and sighed, " You will be faithful to 
 
 me, John?" And hu had kissed her solemnly and 
 
 o 
 
66 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 answered " Till death parts us, mother, I will be faith- 
 ful." The promise had been only a general one, no 
 name had been spoken, no form of loyalty specified ; 
 but John felt as if the promise covered every desire 
 his mother could have. Fretful, nervous, without 
 much intellect or much character, she was yet to him 
 the very best, the very sweetest and dearest mother 
 in the world. He could remember her young and 
 beautiful, graceful as a fairy, and passionately beloved 
 by his father. Not even for Gloria Briffault would 
 he wound the heart on which he had lain, a helpless 
 babe ; the heart which had never failed him in any 
 boyish scrape, or in any manly sorrow. 
 
 Yet he loved Gloria with that mighty love which 
 comes but once to a man, and which, when it does not 
 come until middle life, is love forever. Whatever 
 Gloria might do, wherever she might go, John Pres- 
 ton knew he must always love her. Yet love did not 
 blind him. He saw all her faults ; her evasions and 
 prevarications ; her willful, passionate temper ; her 
 craving for admiration ; her small estimation of loy- 
 alty. Good men do not, as a rule, tumble recklessly 
 into love. Piety and culture make it a more con- 
 scious operation, for when piety and culture are in 
 the ascendant they control the will and the passions. 
 And so, though John loved Gloria, it was with a love 
 as reasonable as it was strong. 
 
LOVE AND MAKKIAGE. 67 
 
 In those days no one had pointed out to young 
 people, that of all beginnings to married life, the 
 bridal trip is the most trying. Before Cassia was 
 half-way to New York she had divined how disas- 
 %trous to future happiness those idle, yawning hours 
 in railway cars and steam-boats might become. 
 " After the birds have built their nest, they don't 
 take a bridal trip ; they go home in all the rapture 
 and glamour of their first espousals," she thought. 
 For she saw that Raymund wearied of the restraint, 
 and felt the obligation to be ever in women's society 
 and service not always a joy. Gloria, at her urgent 
 request, had been permitted to accompany them ; she 
 took from the confidential character of the journey, 
 and added to the demands upon Raymund's time and 
 care. Cassia perceived that she had begun life under 
 false conditions, that nothing she did at this period 
 could " fit in " to the joys and duties which were to 
 be the sum of her future. 
 
 In New York they had gay, bright rooms in the 
 St. James Hotel, and all the wondrous panorama of 
 Broadway was ever before them. But Cassia soon 
 wearied of the driving and the sight-seeing. She 
 had no shopping to do for herself, and Gloria was so 
 unreasonable in the matter, that every such excursion 
 with her generally ended in disappointment. The 
 theater and the opera were Gloria's and Raymund's 
 
68 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 delight. Cassia had strong religious scruples against 
 such entertainments. 
 
 " Go once, and judge of the places yourself," urged 
 Raymund ; but, though the temptation was strong, 
 the admonition, reiterated again and again in child- 
 hood, had a power beyond it. Long years the wise 
 counsel had lain in her heart, as a seed lies in the 
 ground ; but as spring calls into active life the one, 
 so temptation awoke to active resistance the other. 
 
 " No, Raymund," she answered, " I will rest con- 
 tent with my father's judgment. He went frequently 
 in New Orleans, and he regretted it. I made him a 
 promise, and a promise, especially to the dead, ought 
 not to be broken." 
 
 Yet she could not help feeling lonely when Ray- 
 mund went off, night after night, with his pretty 
 sister. Though her hands fastened on the girlish 
 form the rose silk robe and white cashmere opera 
 cloak ; though they clasped the bracelets and necklace, 
 and arranged the coquettish hood over the piquant 
 clustering curls, she could not hide from herself, if 
 she did from others, the fact that it was all a little 
 trial. Standing at the head of the stairs, she watched 
 them away ; gay, handsome, laughing, full of pleasant 
 anticipations ; and, though Raymund always turned 
 for a last smile, she frequently found herself going 
 back to her room with tears in her eyes. 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 69 
 
 At the beginning of September they went back to 
 Texas. Every one knows what it is to return from 
 a pleasure-making. Under the most favorable cir- 
 cumstances something has been lost the thrill of 
 expectation is over, and fruition has brought the bit- 
 ter fruit with the sweet. There are memories we 
 would fain forget, duties we would defer. Cassia 
 felt that love's young dream was over, and though 
 she hoped for something far more sweet and tangi- 
 ble to take its place, she was conscious of a melan- 
 choly that was partly regret for the past, and partly 
 fear for the future. 
 
 Raymond was also somber and thoughtful. There 
 were financial and domestic questions to meet, for 
 which he was not prepared, and he foresaw much an- 
 noyance and care from the impetuous temper and 
 well-defined selfishness of his sister. But when they 
 left railways and cities behind them, and turned with 
 the stage into the long vistas of the quiet prairies and 
 the green peace of unbroken woods, both Cassia and 
 Hay inn nd were glad. Involuntarily their hands 
 clasped each other, and they looked steadily forward, 
 with more of hope and cheerfulness, than they had 
 done for many days. 
 
 In the middle of a calm September afternoon they 
 reached Briffault. Madam had told none of the serv- 
 ants of their expected arrival, and she had made no 
 
70 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 preparations for it. They had been compelled to 
 hire a carriage at the ranch, where the stage dropped 
 them, and its rattle on the avenue made a woman 
 desert her washing and look curiously round the cor- 
 ner of the house. Adrian had left Briffault when his 
 master married, and he had not yet returned. All 
 the other men were in the cotton-fields. There was 
 no one at hand to assist in lifting the trunks but the 
 woman, who came reluctantly from her clothes lines. 
 Raymund called, and stormed, and used some lan- 
 guage in his passion which made Cassia tremble ; and, 
 in the midst of the hubbub, the shutters were flung 
 back from an upper window, and madam, in a high, 
 cracked voice, shrieked out : 
 
 " Have you brought the devil home with you, Kay- 
 mund Briffault \ " 
 
 He did not answer the question, but it quieted 
 him. In a few minutes the carnage drove away, 
 and he came up the steps to Cassia. Gloria had 
 gone to her room, but Cassia still stood on the 
 veranda, waiting for her husband. He was much 
 troubled, and said : 
 
 " Are you afraid, my darling, to go into the 
 house ? " 
 
 u Kay, I was waiting for you, Raymund. I am 
 afraid of nothing when you are with me." 
 
 He led her to the threshold, took her in his arms, 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 71 
 
 and kissed her fondly, saying : " O, Cassia, Low much 
 love and patience you will need ! " 
 
 " Yes, but " And she smiled brightly. She was 
 thinking not only of Raymund's love, but of the 
 words John had read to her that morning of her be- 
 trothal : " In the cross is salvation, in the cross is 
 life, in the cross is protection, in the cross is strength 
 of mind, in the cross is joy of spirit." 
 
72 THE LOST SILVEB OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 
 
 " 111 is it when hatred hungers in the soul 
 For painful food, and chokes thereon, being fed: 
 And ill-slaut eyes interpret the straight sun, 
 But in their scope its white is wried to black." 
 
 " A woman slow to wrath and full of love." 
 
 AT the very threshold of her new home Cassia met 
 its difficulties. Raymund had left the house in 
 the care of three good women servants. Madam had 
 made their charge intolerable to them in less than a 
 week. Then the freshly-furnished, pretty rooms were 
 closed tight and left to dust and decay. None of her 
 own comforts were curtailed by this arrangement. 
 She had ever by her side a negress, called Souda, who 
 had for thirty years been the willing agent of her 
 tyranny and cruelty. In the exercise of her evil 
 power this woman had learned to scorn and to hate 
 her own race, and when freedom came to it she feared 
 to leave the house of her bondage ; feared the venge- 
 ance of the men and women who had writhed un- 
 der her power for so many evil years. Besides 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SKKD. 73 
 
 which she expected much from madam furniture 
 and garments which she envied, and which had been 
 promised her under certain conditions. So, while 
 Raymund, Cassia, and Gloria were in New York, 
 madam and Souda found their pleasure in arranging 
 events likely to foster dissatisfaction. 
 
 Thus it was that, in spite of Raymund's expense 
 and labor, Cassia came to a home disorderly and com- 
 fortless. The room specially prepared for her the 
 spacious lofty room so delicately painted and fur- 
 nished had suffered much from neglect. Moths 
 had cut the pretty pink upholstery, the lace draperies 
 were yellow and limp, dust lay thick on every article, 
 and the atmosphere was heavy and hot and sickly 
 with the vapors and miasma certain to accumulate 
 in rooms unsunned and un ventilated. Cassia flung 
 wide open windows and blinds, and raised the shades ; 
 Raymund went out to procure servants. But it was 
 two hours before he could find any woman willing to 
 come, and it was quite dark when their first meal 
 was ready for them. Then Gloria was sent for. 
 She came down radiant and rosy and full of 
 chatter. 
 
 " No, I am not hungry a bit, Cassia ! " she ex- 
 claimed, as she pushed her cup and plate aside. " I 
 have been with grandma. Souda was making her tea 
 when we arrived, and she sent for me to her room, 
 
74 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 and I have been eating and drinking and telling her 
 all about New York." 
 
 Raymund looked angrily at her. " Why did you 
 not send Cassia a cup of tea ? You were very selfish 
 not to think of it." 
 
 " Yes, it was selfish in me, but I forgot. I forget 
 things so easily, and grandma was so interested about 
 the operas and theaters. I imitated all the actors 
 for her, and sung her some new songs; and look, 
 what a lovely ring she has given me ! " and the girl 
 proudly stretched out her hand, on which glowed, 
 luminous and resplendent, a large sapphire set with 
 diamonds. 
 
 " Had you not better return to her ? " 
 
 " Yes, Ray, I suppose I had. I really do not care 
 to eat any more, and I was just in the middle of a 
 fanny scene I was describing to her, and I dare say 
 Cassia and you like best to be alone, so good-night ; " 
 and she left the room, laughing, and kissing the tips 
 of her fingers. 
 
 u Little traitor ! " said Raymund ; " you are of no 
 further use to her, Cassia. What are you going to 
 do among us?" 
 
 " Make you all happy, if I can, Ray ; going at least 
 to love you, and do my duty to every one." 
 
 The next day was full of small trials. She was 
 naturally neat and careful, and the spoiling of her 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 75 
 
 pretty furniture was a pain and a trouble to her. 
 How heartily she did wish she had come to her home 
 when it had been freshly garnished and made ready 
 for her, especially so when she perceived Raymund's 
 chagrin and disappointment. He had expected 
 Cassia to be so delighted with the changes he had 
 made for her comfort ; but all his wedding gifts to 
 his beloved had been tarnished and rnotheaten, and 
 shorn of their first brightness ere she saw them. 
 
 John came very early in the morning to welcome 
 her home, and to bring her mother's love and bless- 
 ing ; and John had not been many minutes in the 
 house before Gloria found it out. She had, doubt- 
 less, been expecting him, for she wore her prettiest 
 pink morning dress ; and when he went away she 
 loitered down the avenue with him, and it was a long 
 hour ere she loitered back again. 
 
 In the afternoon Cassia had another visitor. She 
 was very busy dusting and arranging the ornaments 
 of her parlor, when Souda entered with madam's 
 card. The formality took her by surprise, and she 
 looked at it with a moment's uncertainty, feeling the 
 while all the scorn on the large black face watching 
 her slightest movement or expression. She hesi- 
 tated, because she was in a dress suitable for her 
 employment, and she was wondering if she ought to 
 change it. 
 
76 THE LOST SILVEK OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 u Will young missis receive tlie madam ? Madam 
 does not wait for any one." 
 
 The tone was almost defiant, the inflection that of 
 dislike. Cassia answered, hurriedly, " I will receive 
 madam." 
 
 " At once t " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 Then Souda left the room, and Cassia employed 
 the short interval in removing her apron, and cor- 
 recting, as carefully as the pause permitted, some dis- 
 arrangements in her simple toilet. She. was thus 
 employed when the door was swung wide, and Souda 
 said : 
 
 "Madam Briffault enters." 
 
 Cassia looked with amazement at her visitor. She 
 was dressed in pale lavender colored silk, elaborately 
 trimmed with white Spanish lace. Her shawl and cap 
 were of the same lace. Large pearls hung from her 
 ears and clasped her throat and wrists. Her fingers, 
 and the Spanish lace fan she held in them, both glit- 
 tered with gems. 
 
 " I pay my respects to the new mistress of Brif- 
 fault," she said, looking steadily at Cassia, and then 
 glancing at the apron which she had cast across a 
 chair. 
 
 " Thank you, madam. It is a new era," she con- 
 tinued, with a smile; "you see I am obliged to be 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 77 
 
 partly my own servant. Some of my own old 
 hands are coming next week, but in the meantime 
 I do my best. The furniture needed attention so 
 much." 
 
 " I keep my own rooms. I am not responsible for 
 the condition of these. Kaymund furnished them 
 very foolishly. He tried to change the atmosphere 
 of the house with a little pink upholstery ; " and she 
 filliped her fingers contemptuously toward the dainty 
 couch. " What a fool he was ! Nothing can change 
 it. It is a place of sin and sorrow always has been 
 always will be." 
 
 "We can hope much better things for the future, 
 madam." 
 
 " I see no reason to do so. Raymund is just like 
 the rest. What is born to be a nettle stings young. 
 He has trampled upon other hearts already. Do you 
 imagine that he will spare yours ? " 
 
 " I think no wrong of my husband, either for the 
 past or the future. I love him, and I trust in him, 
 and I desire only to make him, and every one else 
 here, happy." 
 
 " You can exempt me. I am too old for you to 
 try your enthusiasms upon. Besides, I will owe no 
 happiness to you. If you have the usual romantic 
 ideas about being kind to me for Raymund's sake 
 of returning good for evil of making a stepping- 
 
78 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 stone to your heaven of me you may as well aban- 
 don them at once." 
 
 Cassia remained silent ; she was determined not to 
 inaugurate her married life with a domestic quarrel ; 
 but her dropped eyes were heavy with unshed tears, 
 and her cheeks burning with indignation. 
 
 " I have done you the honor to call upon you as a 
 lady; I find you filling the role of a servant. That 
 is admirable ! Kaymund is sure to respect you for it ! 
 I came to this house more than half a century ago. 
 There were one hundred and twenty slaves on it 
 then. Paul Briffault, my bridegroom, would have 
 made them lie down for me to walk upon, if I had 
 but wished it. Well, he hated me six weeks after- 
 ward, and would have struck me, if I had not stabbed 
 him for the thought. I would have killed him if he 
 had struck me, yes, I would, and his father would 
 have stood by me. "We had a happy time ! You 
 may be sure of that. My son, Richard, killed his 
 wife in three years. Raymund has been to college, 
 and traveled, and been civilized ; he will probably be 
 polite enough to lengthen out the torture ; but they 
 are all of the same stock, all of them men who crumble 
 women's lives as a kind of spice to their own." 
 
 " Madam, I cannot stay with you longer. I do not 
 believe a word wrong of Ray. I do not fear to spend 
 life with him. The good stand under the eye of 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 79 
 
 God. He will give his angels charge concerning 
 them." 
 
 And she went straight from madam into the pres- 
 ence of God. She left her anger and her fears in 
 his sacred shrine ; and though her soul dilated at the 
 sound of doors that opened to the future, she rose 
 from her knees full of peace and confidence. " The 
 Hope of Israel, the Saviour thereof in time of trouble," 
 had said a word to her, and she went back to her 
 duty, softly singing : 
 
 " ' Calm soul of all things ! make it mine 
 
 To feel, amid the strife and jar, 
 That there abides a peace of thine 
 
 Man did not make, and cannot mar.' " 
 
 In less than two weeks the result of the summer's 
 neglect had been, as far as possible, repaired, and 
 never had the grim house looked so cheery and invit- 
 ing. In the calm October weather the blinds were 
 flung back and the windows set open, and at every 
 window the clean white curtains stirred gently in the 
 breeze. In the lower ones, and on the veranda, there 
 were bright stands of flowers, and Cassia had man- 
 aged to give to the place an air of purity and cheerful 
 unrestraint. 
 
 Then there followed many weeks and months of 
 mingled joy and sorrow ; days of almost perfect hap- 
 piness, and days broken in two by little family dis- 
 
80 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 putes, mostly of Gloria's making, consequences of her 
 perfect indifference to any one's pleasure unless it 
 contributed to her own. Cassia did not believe that 
 she really cared for her brother, and it troubled her 
 to see John wasting on the foolish beauty all the af- 
 fection of his true, good heart. She was also unhappy 
 about her mother, who was quietly but surely passing 
 away from a world in which every thing was changed 
 to her. With its new conditions she could not get 
 into accord ; all her life was in the past, all her con- 
 versation was reminiscence. She was like some flower 
 that had outlived its season, and which the first rain 
 or frost would scatter on the ground. 
 
 But before we go into another life many things 
 occur to detach us from this one. The good become 
 more gentle, tender, thoughtful, wise ; their conver- 
 sation is already in heaven, and the decaying physical 
 system adapts itself to its end, till the ebbing life goes 
 peacefully away. To Mrs. Preston the images of her 
 early and lost loves returned and beckoned her heav- 
 enward. John and Cassia understood it. " Be pa- 
 tient with me only a little longer," she said, one 
 night, to Haymuud. " Spare Cassia as often as you 
 can ; before spring I shall have gone away forever." 
 And, though Raymund had only answered the frail 
 little lady by kissing her hand, he granted the re- 
 quest with an unstinted generosity. If Cassia wished 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SKI-:T>. 81 
 
 to go every day to her mother, he was willing to go 
 with her. Mrs. Preston had never quite accepted 
 Ray mu nd, but as the great change drew nearer all 
 her small animosities died out. 
 
 It was her son John, however, who, in these last 
 hours, was her chief companion. She went down 
 into the dark valley clasping John's hand. And 
 when she really came to it all her fears were gone. 
 One night she talked until the clock struck nine. 
 u ]S*ow I will sleep, John," she said, and, as he kissed 
 her, she whispered the last words he had read : " i For 
 Jerusalem, that is above, is free ; which is the mother 
 of us all.' " There was a pathetic trouble and tender- 
 ness, a little fear, in her lifted eyes then ; but when 
 the light of the winter morning fell coldly on her 
 tranquil face there was nothing but a divine peace 
 and a happy smile, 
 
 " As if she had grown more joyful 
 
 As she clasped the Master's hand ; 
 And had come, or ever she was aware, 
 
 Unto the Holy Land ; " 
 
 for none knew exactly at what moment her angel 
 called for her. 
 
 The death of any good mother makes a great blank. 
 John and Cassia mourned her sincerely. Even Rav- 
 in und missed the changing of life's currents which 
 6 
 
82 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 her daily need of love had made in his own household. 
 Yet these regular visits had been the cause of many 
 domestic jars ; madam was sure to send for Kaymund 
 just as they were ready to make them, and her differ- 
 ent ways of expressing her scorn for his devotion to 
 his mother-in-law seemed to be endless. In fact, her 
 infinity of resource had become a terror to Cassia ; no 
 duty, no pleasure, was safe from her interference. If 
 there was a dinner which delay would spoil, madam 
 knew the moment it was ready for the table, and at 
 that moment sent some imperative message for Ray- 
 mund's attention. Many a cold, silent meal, that 
 ought to have been a pleasant feast, Cassia owed to 
 her interference. If the horses were ready for a 
 drive, it was the same thing. If Cassia was reading 
 or singing to Raymund, madam had a letter that must 
 be written, or she had a headache, and the piano dis- 
 tressed her. She seemed to be ubiquitous, but, in re- 
 ality, her tactics were arranged from the details so 
 liberally supplied by Souda and Gloria. 
 
 For Gloria was one of those women who can be true 
 only when it is in their manifest interest to be true. 
 During Raymund's courtship devotion to Cassia was 
 the profitable side. It was productive of rides and 
 visits, and excuses for dress and opportunities for 
 flirtation. It had made her a bridesmaid, and given 
 her a trip to New York. But Cassia, as a wife, had 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 83 
 
 disappointed her. She had invited no company, had 
 no parties, and she had refused Raymund's offer to 
 take her to the capital when the Legislature was in 
 session. The refusal of this offer which she was 
 sure would have included her also had made her 
 Cassia's enemy. 
 
 " She is so scandalously selfish ! Because Mrs. 
 Preston is sick, and she wants to go to her every day 
 of life, she wont take me to Austin. It is a shame ! " 
 said the girl, indignantly. And madam was delighted 
 at the complaint, and carefully nursed it. 
 
 " She is jealous of your beauty, jealous of your 
 singing, jealous of the little love and attention Ray 
 gives you." 
 
 The two women talked over Cassia's conduct al- 
 most constantly, and, as they were bent upon finding 
 faults in her, they usually succeeded in their search. 
 And if Raymund did not himself notice their animos- 
 ity, Cassia soon found out that it was a dangerous 
 thing to open his eyes. If he recognized the cruelty 
 or injustice of any attitude, his anger was so extreme 
 as to be painful to every one, and to very likely pro- 
 duce a reaction on the other side. If he did not, or 
 would not, see the malice so evident, a complaint only 
 weakened her power, and gratified those so mercilessly 
 and continually plotting against her. 
 
 And no malice is absolutely powerless. If it does 
 
8-t THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 not injure in one way it does in another. Madam had 
 gained a most important victory when Raymund said, 
 petulantly, one day : " I do wish you three women 
 would bear and forbear a little. Of course madam is 
 wrong, but she can hardly be alway and entirely to 
 blame. Don't notice her peculiarities, Cassia." 
 
 That very afternoon, as Raymund was lifting his 
 gloves and whip, and the horses were waiting at the 
 door, madam sent for him. It was a taunt from Cas- 
 sius that drove Caesar to the capital to meet his assas- 
 sins, and how often a momentary impatience, a pass- 
 ing pique, makes us say or do something which we 
 know at the time is foolish or wrong, but which we 
 have no will to resist saying or doing. 
 
 " Don't notice her peculiarities," quoted Cassia. 
 
 There was a ring of sarcasm in her voice, and Ray- 
 mund looked at his wife in astonishment. Then, 
 with an excessive politeness, he turned to Souda, and 
 answered, " Tell madam I will wait upon her imme- 
 diately." 
 
 Cassia perceived her mistake as soon as it was 
 made, and as Raymund threw a robe over her feet, 
 she said, timidly, " It was your own advice, Ray." 
 
 " It was suitable advice for you to follow. I hope 
 I shall never, under any circumstances, neglect to re- 
 spond to a lady's call ; especially when the lady is so 
 much my senior." 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 85 
 
 "Will you remember, then, that my waiting here 
 is a ' call ' upon your kindness, also?" Perhaps the 
 question was an imprudent one, but Cassia was pained 
 and perverse, and, of course, imprudent. Buvmund 
 bowed stiffly to her request ; he was only away a few 
 minutes, but the pleasure of the ride was quite gone. 
 Kaymund was offended, and bored ; Cassia hurt 
 and silent. She understood that madam had seen 
 them going hand in hand down the steps, laughing 
 and chatting together, anticipative of a pleasant drive, 
 and that her ill-natured soul had devised the interrup- 
 tion, and calculated on its probable result. But if she 
 had explained such a contemptible maneuver to Ray- 
 mund, he would have laughed at the small suspicion, 
 and been amazed that any heart could entertain it. 
 Yet she knew it was a correct one ; she winced under 
 the injustice and wrong, too small and mean to com- 
 plain of, and for once felt so hurt, that she was in- 
 different as to how Raymond judged between them. 
 
 On their return home they met John and Gloria 
 walking in the avenue, Gloria in a cloud of white 
 muslin and pink ribbons. She was making herself 
 bewitchingly alluring, doing her utmost to remove 
 the last barrier between the heart of John Preston 
 and her own will ; and Cassia, who knew him so well, 
 perceived that he was resigning himself to her influ- 
 ence, though trying, even in the act, to justify the 
 
86 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 resignation to himself. She knew that he was say- 
 ing to his conscience, " I love this woman, and I can 
 do her good. I will make her mine, that I may event- 
 ually make her a nobler and better woman." 
 
 Raymund treated John very coldly ; he knew that 
 he could best punish Cassia through him ; and she 
 perceived, and was deeply wounded at so ungenerous 
 a reprisal. John felt the stinted courtesy and left 
 almost immediately, and Cassia went to her room to 
 compose herself in its solitude. It was closed, and 
 dusk, and quiet. She turned the key swiftly, knelt 
 down, and hiding her face in her hands, bowed her- 
 self almost to the floor, as she told God, in low sob- 
 bing words, her difficulties and her wrongs. Nay, 
 she could not tell him in particular; she only kept 
 saying as she remembered them, " Thou knowest, 
 Lord ! Thou knowest, Lord ! " 
 
 Suddenly a low, mocking laugh transfused itself 
 through the palpable stillness of the room. She un- 
 covered her face and rose to her feet. Madam stood 
 by the window, and as Cassia moved she flung open 
 the blinds. In the remnant of light her sneering 
 face and shriveled form, in its black and white gar- 
 ments, stood out clearly. 
 
 " A most edifying spectacle," she said. 
 
 " Madam, it is a shameful thing which you have 
 done. What right had you in my room ? " 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 87 
 
 " The right to do the duty you have neglected ; 
 the right to watch over my granddaughter when she 
 is in improper company ; and this was the best window 
 for the purpose." 
 
 " She is with my brother." 
 
 " I know that all the worse for her." 
 
 " John is too noble, too good " 
 
 " John ! John ! John ! It is John forever. I am 
 sick of John ! 1 wonder Ray endures it ! " 
 
 She spoke so fiercely and with such gathering pas- 
 sion that Cassia felt afraid, and instinctively struck a 
 match and lit the large bronze lamp that hung above 
 the dressing-glass. It revealed a number of orna- 
 ments in their cases, and some fine laces lying upon 
 the table. Madam pointed to them. " Your father 
 would not buy an ounce of corn or cotton raised on 
 the Briffault place; he said, 'it was all steeped in 
 tears and blood, and that it stained his hands and his 
 honor.' His hands and his honor! You are very 
 glad to wear jewels bought with Briffault's gold 
 notwithstanding the tears and blood." 
 
 " Madam, every one of these jewels were my 
 mother's. They are beyond price, because she wore 
 them. Please to remove your hand from that little 
 book, it was hers also." 
 
 u And so, I am unworthy to touch it, I suppose ! 
 O, woman, I could strike you." 
 
88 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 u I do not doubt it. Put down that book, madam, 
 if you please." 
 
 Cassia was trembling from head to foot and crim- 
 son with indignation. The book was a small one, 
 bound in red leather, with gilded clasp and gilded 
 leaves ; one of those copies of " Wesley's Hymns " so 
 familiar to the last generation. Mrs. Preston had died 
 with it at her side. It was as sacred a thing to Cassia 
 as the world held. It made her quiver to see it in mad- 
 am's hand, yet she feared to take it from her, lest she 
 should receive the blow it was ever ready to give. And 
 if madam struck her, she felt as if nothing could atone 
 for such an outrage ; she shrank from even imagining 
 what might follow such an event. So she said again, 
 and as calmly as possible, " Please to put down my 
 mother's book, madam." 
 
 Madam, on the contrary, began with a provoking 
 coolness to unfasten the clasps. As she did so the 
 book opened at the frontispiece at the calm, grave, 
 holy face of him who had the " law of truth on his 
 mouth," and who was " the messenger of the Lord of 
 hosts." For a moment she strove with some mem- 
 ory evoked by the picture, then a demoniac passion 
 took possession of her, and with words cruel and in- 
 famous she flung the book to the floor. It fell at 
 her feet, with the reproaching face uppermost, and 
 she took her staff and pushed it violently away. 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 8.) 
 
 Cassia lifted the precious volume, kissed it, and put 
 it in her bosom ; then, walking to the head of the 
 stairs, she called her husband. She could hardly have 
 made her lawful claim upon his sympathy and pro- 
 tection at a more unfortunate hour. Her slight self- 
 
 O 
 
 assertion in the afternoon had vexed him ; John and 
 Gloria walking so affectionately together had vexed 
 him ; and the stable boy had been using his own sad- 
 dle horse, and further vexed him. He was annoyed 
 beyond measure, when Cassia, trembling with excite- 
 ment, demanded his interference, and insisted upon 
 madam's withdrawal from her room. He listened 
 with an ever darkening face to both, then without a 
 word, but with a pointed air of respect and concilia- 
 tion, offered his arm to madam. She understood it 
 as such, and she took it with a glance of triumph at 
 her accuser. 
 
 Perhaps Cassia could have borne this if Raymund 
 had returned to soothe and comfort her. But he 
 went back to the dining room, and when he found 
 that Cassia did not join him there, he sent her a most 
 humiliating message by Gloria. The words lost noth- 
 ing by the tone of their delivery. Cassia felt as if 
 she could not obey the order. A cruel scene en- 
 sued a scene in which Raymund forgot all that cult- 
 ure and love had done for him in which he was 
 simply the son of his fierce and sinful forefathers. 
 
90 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 Cassia fled from liim in terror ; Gloria disappeared 
 also; even madam quailed before a temper which had 
 all the brutal force of a past generation, edged with 
 the rapier-like passion of the present one. 
 
 When it had spent itself he ordered his horse ; 
 then, turning to Cassia, said : " As soon as you have 
 settled your dispute with madam, you can let me 
 know. I shall not return until you send for me." 
 
 "Ray, I am ill, and you ought not to leave me 
 now. Stay at home. I will complain no more." 
 
 " I am going to Galveston." 
 
 " It is where you ought to be, sir," was madam's 
 reply; "if devils haunt the places they made hells 
 upon earth, you will certainly meet the Briffaults. 
 I hear there is fever there ; if you go, don't return 
 here full of infection ; I have no mind to join the 
 family before my time." 
 
 It was about midnight when he left, and as soon as 
 madam heard the great gates clash she went to seek 
 Gloria. She found her in a large guest-room, that 
 had not been used for many a year. She was crouch- 
 ing among the pillows of the bed, shivering and sob- 
 bing with fright. 
 
 "Come to my room, child. Souda has made us a 
 cup of chocolate, and I have some things to say to 
 you. What brought you here, I wonder? " 
 
 " I heard Souda say nobody ever came here, and 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 91 
 
 I wanted some place to hide in. Whose picture 
 is that ? How pretty ! How sad ! Who is it, 
 grandma ? " 
 
 " The picture of the woman who was your mother 
 and Kay's mother. Poor little thing ! Don't come 
 to this room any more. I hate the place. I hope 
 you admired your brother to-night. It is the first 
 time I have seen him look natural for several years. 
 If he had taken the whip, which I saw him lift sev- 
 eral times, to you, I should not have been the least 
 astonished." 
 
 "If he had, grandma, I should have stabbed 
 him ; " and she set her small sharp teeth fiercely 
 together, and looked quite capable of carrying out 
 her threat. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! What a tragedy is walking up and 
 down this old house ! Have you been rehearsing it ? 
 What the heart dreams about the hands give life to. 
 It is not safe to dream such things now. Civilization 
 has linked Briffanlt to the law ; m ore's the pity ! " 
 
 Talking thus they reached madam's room. It was, 
 as usual, brilliantly illuminated ; and it had a kind of 
 magnificence very distinct from the rest of the house 
 the magnificence of old, yet rich and splendid fur- 
 niture. It was large and lofty, and flooded with 
 light in every corner. Sonda was spreading a table 
 with several delicacies. There was even an air of 
 
92 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 festivity about the room, and madam smiled and 
 rubbed her thin hands until the rings and bracelets 
 she wore made a little jingling. 
 
 " It really seems like old times, Souda. There is 
 the same stormy feeling in the house, and Captain 
 Burke looks precisely as he used to look when Paul 
 and I had been having an understanding ; " and she 
 smiled and nodded to the picture, as if congratulat- 
 ing it. 
 
 Souda served them, and then, at a glance from 
 madam, withdrew. Madam had something to say, 
 and she entered upon it without preliminaries. 
 
 " Gloria, I have seen you lately walking very often 
 with John Preston. What do you mean by it? 
 Don't lie to me. It is no use." 
 
 " To-night John confessed that he loves me. lie 
 said he was going to ask you and Ray to agree to our 
 marriage ; only Ray was so cross when he came back 
 from his ride with Cassia." 
 
 Madam put down her cup, patted Gloria on the 
 cheek, and laughed immoderately. " To think of 
 you ! a silly child ! without intellect, without relig- 
 ion, without any morality worth speaking of, capti- 
 vating the admirable, the excellent, the pious John 
 Preston a man good enough for Eleanor Davis, or 
 any other such ornament to her sex ! What are you 
 going to do with your lover, Gloria ? " 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 93 
 
 u I suppose I must marry, grandma. I never see 
 any one else." 
 
 " No, you must not marry him. It is a shame that 
 you were not taken to Austin last winter. That was, 
 of course, Cassia's jealousy of you. You ought to 
 see for yourself that there are very different men, 
 and very different lovers, from John Preston. Why, 
 child, he is not worthy to touch your hand! Now 
 listen, I have some connections in San Antonio. I 
 will write to them before next winter, and arrange 
 for you to go into society under their protection. 
 Maria Gomez isn't a nice woman, but she is stylish, 
 and she has a tine house, and can introduce you 
 among the richest and best of the Anglo-Spanish 
 people there." 
 
 " I should enjoy that very much. Thank you, 
 grandma." 
 
 " You shall have the finest dresses that money can 
 buy. I will send to New York for them and, look 
 here ! " She took from her pocket a little golden 
 key, and, going to the old secretary, opened its case 
 of small interior drawers, one after the other, all of 
 them full of jewels rubies, sapphires, emeralds, dia- 
 monds, pearls, golden trinkets of every kind. Gloria 
 looked on in a kind of rapture, clasping her small 
 hands, and ejaculating, " O ! O ! O how splendid ! 
 How magnificent ! " 
 
94 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " I will lend you some of these to wear. There 
 shall not be a girl half so richly dressed as you in all 
 the land. But you must promise me that you will 
 never marry John Preston ; never, under any circum- 
 stances." 
 
 "I am ready to promise that, grandma, I don't 
 care much for him. I had no other company, and 
 John loves me so ; it was an amusement." 
 
 " Amuse yourself as much as you desire with him. 
 The more you disappoint John Preston the more I 
 will give you. Every time you make him suffer 
 shall be a fresli pleasure to you; I promise it. But, 
 remember, if you ever marry him, I will torture you 
 into the grave ; yes, I will ; if I am dead, I will come 
 back to do it." 
 
 " Grandma, you have my promise. I wont break it." 
 
 Then madam took a pearl ring from her own 
 hand and put it upon Gloria's. "I bind you with 
 this ring," she said ; " if you break your promise, you 
 will be sure to have sorrow upon sorrow." The girl 
 was much impressed by madam's manner ; she looked 
 at the ring with fear, almost with aversion ; but she 
 did not dare either to reject the gage, or to remove it. 
 
 "Now, let us finish our chocolate. Some day, if 
 you do as I desire you, all the jewels will be your 
 own. They are a great fortune. They will be your 
 fortune if your husband pleases me." 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 95 
 
 " Did grandpa give you them ? Or were you very 
 rich before you married him ? " 
 
 No one had ever presumed to ask madam per- 
 sonal questions before. For a moment her anger 
 rose, but a single glance at Gloria showed her that 
 the question was one of simple girlish curiosity. 
 An expression of singular softness came over her, 
 and, with eyes and voice full of the sadness of re- 
 trospection, she answered : " Your grandfather gave 
 me all in the three top drawers, on the left side. 
 My father-in-law, Captain Burke Briffault, gave 
 me all the rest;" and she again looked up at the 
 picture, as if there were some intelligence between 
 them. 
 
 " He must have been very rich. How could he 
 buy so many jewels ? " 
 
 " He bought them with his sword. He was at the 
 capture of Panama, and many other captures." 
 
 " Did you not have some when you married ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Was your father rich ? " 
 
 " No. Ask no more questions, child. Good-night, 
 and remember your promise. I shall expect you to 
 tell me every thing." She held out her hand, and 
 Gloria touched it and went thoughtfully to her own 
 room. Her heart was full of new hopes and plans, 
 of dreams of conquest and of social royalties. Into 
 
96 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 them John Preston never entered. The true heart 
 she had amused herself with was of less value to her 
 than the pearl upon her finger. Usually the devil 
 makes such good bargains a little land, a little gold, 
 a little honor, or a few jewels, are sufficient. There 
 was only one soul to whom lie thought it necessary to 
 offer the whole world. 
 
 It was more than two hours after midnight, yet 
 madam's end of the lonely mansion was in a blaze of 
 light. The windows were wide open, the restless old 
 woman, in her lace and jewels, wandering about the 
 room, and the tall, black form of Souda standing al- 
 most motionless behind madam's chair. For madam 
 had a terror of the darkness ; she drove it away with 
 a fictitious light, and then, when the dawn broke, she 
 had the blinds closed and went to sleep. Souda had 
 become used to the same hours. After Gloria left, 
 they discussed the quarrel with the relish of old peo- 
 ple who have a pleasure with the flavor of other years 
 in it. Madam was absolutely happy ; she laughed 
 and played with her bracelets, and pulled on and off 
 her rings, and imitated Raymund and Cassia with a 
 clever and mocking fidelity. 
 
 Even if Cassia had known it, the cruelty at that 
 hour would have been of small importance to her. 
 She had fled to her room in terror and distress so 
 great, that at first the sound of Ray galloping away 
 
THE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 97 
 
 from her had seemed a relief. Her head throbbed 
 violently, light was intolerable to her aching eyes ; 
 she put down the lamp as low as possible, and slowly 
 paced the large, dim room. Then the conscious want 
 of help and comfort forced her to feel out into the 
 abyss for something mightier than flesh and blood 
 to lean upon. Often our first prayer, in such sorrow, 
 is an excuse " I could not help it. Lord ! I bore it 
 as long as I could ! " These were Cassia's first, low, 
 moaning cries. It was not madam's hatred nor 
 Gloria's impertinences that she thought of it was 
 that Raymund had deserted her and made her a 
 laughter to those who had dealt so treacherously and 
 cruelly with her. 
 
 What had she done wrong ? She tried to settle 
 that question first of all in her own mind. Had she 
 been too impatient with madam ? Was it wrong to 
 call Kaymund to interfere ? Was it wrong to refuse 
 obedience to an insolent message ? For some time 
 she defended herself to herself. As the hours 
 went on the first turbulence of her grief subsided. 
 she grew calm and sorrowful, and, in the tender, 
 vague mystery of the time and hour, the feeling of 
 the Infinite around her grew sweetly and solemnly 
 distinct. Then, when the divine presence was felt, 
 her soul turned to it. " My God ! my God ! " she 
 whispered, and she bowed herself before him. And, 
 
98 THE LOST SILVER OF BEIFFACLT. 
 
 O ! " When he giveth quietness, who then can make 
 trouble ? " 
 
 " She had been alone on a troubled sea, 
 Alone, alone on the wild wide sea, 
 Then Oue came into her boat from the sea ; 
 And the wind fell low round her little bark, 
 And a wounded hand touched hers in the dark, 
 And a weary head on her breast was laid, 
 And a trembling voice as of one whom pain 
 Had done to death in a whisper said, 
 4 1 hud no where else to lay my head.' " 
 
 And the storm was over and there was a great peace 
 in her soul. Long ere madam had fought away the 
 night shadows, long ere Gloria had wearied herself 
 with imaginary triumphs, Cassia had fallen asleep, 
 comforted with the consciousness that underneath her 
 were the arms of an everlasting love. 
 
 She breakfasted alone, and then drove over to see 
 John. How precious, at this hour, would her moth- 
 er's sympathy have been ! Mothers may have little 
 intellect and little knowledge, but O, how great is 
 their love ! And in sorrow it is not intellect or 
 knowledge we need ; it is human kindness ; some 
 one to kiss our trembling lips, and wipe our wet 
 eyes, and fold us to a heart that truly loves us. Cas- 
 sia went into her mother's* room and knelt down by 
 the empty couch, and laid her head upon the pillow 
 where once the dear mother-head had rested. 
 
TIIE SOWING OF EVIL SEED. 99 
 
 " If she was only here, John ! if she was only 
 here ! " she sobbed. 
 
 " Who dare say that she is not here ? Do you 
 think our mother deserted us when she went from, 
 our mortal sight, Cassia ? " 
 
 " But I cannot see her, John. I cannot see her ! " 
 
 " You cannot see me when you are at Briffault ; do 
 you forget me ? You cannot see beyond the horizon, 
 dear ; is there, therefore, nothing beyond it ? Perhaps 
 it is our own fault that we have not more intelligences 
 from the unseen. It would be a bare life this, if the 
 inward ear could not catch echoes from the other 
 one ; if we had not 
 
 1 Independent solaces, 
 Incumbencies more awful, visitings 
 From the upholder of the tranquil soul.' 
 
 Can you understand, Cassia, that I very frequently 
 come into this room and say, softly, ' Good-morning, 
 mother?'" 
 
 " O, John ! John ! speak to her for me. I am so 
 wretched ! It must be a little class-meeting between 
 you and me, John. I want to tell you all my fault, 
 and all the trouble that has come of it ; then you can 
 advise and comfort me." So there, in the mother's 
 room, they sat down together, and Cassia told him 
 all. John had an evident effort to control himself ; 
 he was compelled often to relieve the tension of his 
 
100 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 feelings by walking rapidly to and fro. But he com- 
 forted and counseled his sister, and promised to go 
 into Galveston the following day, and talk matters 
 over with Raymund. He believed that, as soon as his 
 passion was past, he would be sorry for it, and rea- 
 sonable under friendly advice. 
 
 " Only the grace of God can deliver a man from 
 his ancestors, Cassia," he said. " The soul has its 
 malignant diseases as well as the body, and Raymund, 
 for the time, was undoubtedly ' possessed.' You will 
 see that he will do you ample justice when he comes 
 to himself." 
 
 John rode back to Briffault with his sister. They 
 talked together until she was calm and almost cheer- 
 ful ; for, though the faces of God's children be fully 
 set Zionward, it does help them in any perplexity to 
 ask each other the way thitherward. John spent the 
 day at Briffault. Raymund did not return, but 
 Gloria wandered up and down the sweet, shady avenue 
 with him, or sang to him in the parlor. She left no 
 art untried to secure her captive ; she bound him to 
 her with ties subtle as Satan and strong as life. And 
 madam watched her from her window exultingly. 
 The very plenitude of John's bliss was a triumph to 
 her ; she foresaw in it the depth and bitterness of his 
 disappointment. 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT 
 
 CHAPTEE IY. 
 THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 
 
 " A place 
 
 Before his eyes appeared, sick, noisome, dark, 
 A lazar house it seemed, wherein were laid 
 Numbers of those diseased. 
 Dire was the tossing, deep the groans ; despair 
 Tended the sick, busy from couch to couch ; 
 And over them triumphant Death, his dart 
 Shook." MILTON. 
 
 WHEN John said that Kaymund was for the time 
 "possessed," lie was, perhaps, nearer to the 
 truth than is generally recognized. Nothing is more 
 clearly taught in the Bible than the doctrine of an- 
 gelic and demoniac agencies. " Why," said Peter to 
 Ananias, " hath Satan filled thine heart ? " It is cus- 
 tomary for even good Christians to shirk so terrible 
 a fact, and to suppose that the " possessed," so fre- 
 quently named in the gospels, were lunatics. That 
 they were not, is evident from Matthew jv, 24, where 
 the " diseased," the " possessed," and the " lunatic " 
 are distinctly and separately named. And, alas ! it is 
 common enough at the present day to see men pos- 
 
I 1 .' 2 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 , 
 
 sessed by the demons of strong drink, or lust, or 
 avarice, or anger; they are not sick, they are not 
 mad, they are simply in the power of the devil, " led 
 captive by him at his will." 
 
 On this night he drove Raymund Briffault into 
 Galveston. He reminded him of " Ratcliffe's," a 
 noted resort for deep drinking and reckless gambling. 
 It stood some distance from the city a low, weather- 
 beaten hut, on the sea-shore ; so well known to the 
 class that used its sinful shelter as to need nothing to 
 indicate its character. One of the Ratcliffes had 
 been a sailor in Burke Briffault's black craft ; and 
 generation after generation there had always been 
 some intercourse between the families. Certainly, if 
 any Briffault needed money, it was to Eatcliffe's 
 cabin they repaired ; and between Raymund and the 
 present proprietor that kind of friendship existed, 
 which might lie dormant for years, and would yet 
 be good for any emergency. 
 
 He rode hard until he reached the ferry connect- 
 ing the main-land with the island. It was then gray 
 dawn, with a wretched east wind, blowing hot and 
 cold and wet all at once. It did not rain, but he 
 was clammy to the skin when he touched Galveston 
 island. The gulfs long waves broke sullenly upon 
 the beach, and through the marsh grasses, crusted 
 with salt, and through the rank few herbs, the home 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 103 
 
 of million of mosquitoes, lie urged his staggering horse. 
 Ere long the sun rose, red and fiery ; the sky felt 
 like brass above him, and, though it was so early, the 
 rays of light pierced his head like arrows. He was 
 enduring a great physical agony, and yet it never 
 entered his mind to say, " In my own home are cool, 
 shadowy rooms ; in my own home peace and love are 
 waiting for me. I will turn back to its comfort and 
 blessing." 
 
 He was quite exhausted when he reached RatcliftVs. 
 The sandy beach was silent and absolutely deserted; 
 the sea like a sheet of lead, dull and gray, with a slow 
 heaving motion ; and Ratcliffe's house was as quiet as 
 if it was the house of a dead man. But he stood 
 in its entrance, and when he saw Raymund he went 
 to meet him. The men nodded to each other, but 
 no greeting passed between them. Raymund's horse 
 was taken to a shelter at the side of the hut, and he 
 tottered into the room to which the open door led. 
 He was sitting with his head in his hands when 
 Rutcliffe returned ; and when the latter spoke, he 
 raised it and gazed vacantly at his host. Instantly 
 Ratcliffe seized his wrist and examined his face. It 
 was vividly scarlet, his eyes like bulls of fire, his pulse 
 beating at the wrist with that peculiar " bound " that 
 said at every throb, " Yellow fever ! " 
 
 " Sacrista ! Briffuult, you have the fever ! " 
 
104: THE LOST SILVER or BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " I suppose so. Can you give me a bed ? " 
 
 " Not here ; you would die. No ice, no doctor at 
 hand, and the place is as hot as hell for a well man. 
 Ducre's buggy is in the shed ; I will drive you to the 
 nearest hotel." 
 
 Raymund did not answer. He was suffering fright- 
 fully. Ratcliffe opened the door of an inner room 
 and spoke to the men there. There were four of 
 them sitting at a table on which lay a pile of notes 
 and gold. Two were shuffling cards, two sat silent, 
 with melancholy eyes fixed upon the board. Jftat- 
 clilfe spoke to one of these: "Dacre, I want your 
 buggy. Ray Briffault is here, down with the fever; 
 he can't ride his horse a step farther." 
 
 " All right." 
 
 " You'll have to help lift him in ; he's past help- 
 ing himself." 
 
 " That so? Hold on a minute, Jennings." 
 
 He rose and followed Ratcliffe, and the two men 
 lifted Raymund into the buggy. He was delirious 
 when he reached the hotel, muttering rapidly, in a 
 low, awful manner. 
 
 " How are you going to let his friends know ? " 
 asked the landlord. 
 
 "I am going to Briffault myself. Send for a 
 doctor, and get a good nurse at any price. You will 
 be well paid for your trouble." 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAT. 105 
 
 But Ratcliffe had not only to drive home, he had 
 business affairs of importance to attend to there ; and 
 it was nearly noon ere he had completed his arrange- 
 ments. Then the heated, feverish atmosphere was so 
 deadly, that he dared not leave for some hours, so 
 that it was nearly ten o'clock at night when he 
 reached Briffault. John was standing on the veranda 
 bidding his sister and Gloria "good-night," when 
 they heard the gates shut. 
 
 " That must be Ray," said Cassia. 
 
 " Then I will wait and see him." 
 
 Rateliffe rode slowly, and before his figure was 
 visible, Cassia perceived she had made a mistake. 
 
 " O, John, there is some bad news coming ! I feel 
 it ! I am sure of it ! " 
 
 Before Ratcliffe descended, John was at his side. 
 
 " Have yon brought news of Briffault ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes ; bad news. He has the fever, and is very 
 ill." 
 
 " Where is he ? " 
 
 " I took him to the hotel. It was the best I could 
 do." 
 
 " I will go back with you. Come in and refresh 
 yourself. What will you have?" 
 
 u Strong coffee. Take some yourself, it is the 
 best thing." 
 
 Their conversation had been low and rapid, and 
 
106 . THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 had only occupied the few moments of Ratcliffe's de- 
 scent, but Cassia was at their side when they turned. 
 
 " What is it, John? " she asked. 
 
 " Ray has yellow fever. I am going back with 
 this gentleman to nurse him. Let us have some 
 strong coffee first, dear." 
 
 " Yellow fever /" Gloria had caught the words, 
 and she fled like a deer, with the news to madam. 
 The room was, as usual, in a blaze of light, and 
 madam lying on a couch in the center of it. 
 
 " Ray has yellow fever ! They have sent for some 
 one to nurse him. He is very ill. O, grandma, 
 if Ray should die ! " 
 
 " Yellow fever /" shrieked madam, springing up 
 in a passion af terror and anger, "How dare you 
 come into this room, then ? Have you been near the 
 man ? Order him off the place instantly ! What 
 an outrage ! Souda, get some camphor and burn it. 
 Go away, miss, and don't come near me again." She 
 was trembling with fright, and gave one peremptory 
 order after another, for the clearance and disinfection 
 of the house. 
 
 In the mean time Cassia was hurriedly putting 
 together a few necessary articles. She was deter- 
 mined to go witli John, for in some measure she 
 blamed herself for Ray's danger. And John was one 
 of those men who respect another's conscience. He 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 107 
 
 thought Cassia was to be trusted entirely. Though 
 there had been a confidence between them on the 
 subject of her quarrel with Ray, he knew that people 
 never tell quite all, and the thing she had not spoken 
 of might be a sufficient reason for her self-sacrifice. 
 
 An hour before midnight they left Briffault, Kat- 
 sliffe riding one of Hay's horses, John and Cassia in 
 the buggy. They had to call at the Preston ranch, 
 for John thought it likely he might be detained some 
 time in Galveston, and directions for such an emer- 
 gency were necessary. But after this short detention 
 they pushed rapidly forward, the horseman pacing 
 silently in advance. No one spoke. The night was 
 hot and damp ; they were riding through a cloud so 
 dense that even RatcliftVs figure, a yard or two be- 
 fore them, was only a dimmer blur in it. The in- 
 sects were tormenting, and the frogs made such an 
 unceasing din that human conversation was impossi- 
 ble. Black, narrow bayous went wriggling through 
 the rotten, mildewed grasses, and frequently delayed 
 them, for the tide had filled their muddy channels, 
 and it was necessary for the buggy to seek higher 
 crossings. 
 
 Still, long before dawn, they reached the plague- 
 smitten city. Dense clouds hung low over it ; no 
 moon, no star was visible, but through the profound 
 gloom it gleamed with countless lights, for the watch- 
 
108 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 er's candle was in every house. The hotel to which 
 they drove was ominously illuminated. As soon as 
 Cassia glanced at it she remembered that a few nights 
 before she had dreamed of the vast, shadowy build- 
 ing, with its numerous windows glowing with flamej 
 and she knew that her soul had apprehended its trial 
 and felt the shadow of calamity ere it entered it. 
 The door stood open, but the entrance was deserted, 
 and Cassia sat down on one of the empty chairs while 
 John looked for some one to give him information. 
 
 A sister of charity, passing through the hall with a 
 bowl of broken ice in her hand, directed him to Ray- 
 mund's room, and, taking Cassia by the hand, they 
 sought it together. It was at the end of a corridor 
 full of awful sights and sounds, where the stillness 
 of the sheeted dead alternated with the anguish of 
 the tortured living. From two of the rooms the last 
 frightful struggle of the vomito filled the house with 
 the cries of intolerable agony. Cassia trembled and 
 grasped John's hand. He looked in her face and 
 said, steadily : " ' Yea, though I walk through the 
 valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil : 
 for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they com- 
 fort me.' The rod as well as the staff, remember 
 that, Cassia." 
 
 As he said the words he opened the door of Ray- 
 mund's room, and the miserable man lay helpless and 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 109 
 
 unconscious before them. A sister of charity had 
 just covered his head with broken ice, and while she 
 murmured above him the litany for the sick, was en- 
 deavoring to keep away from the restless sufferer the 
 hosts of torturing insects. Cassia kissed her and said : 
 " I am his wife ; I will take your place now. May 
 God reward you ! " 
 
 In such moments good souls draw close together ; 
 every thing is forgotten but the grand fact that we 
 are all the children of the Most High. " The Com- 
 forter of all sorrowful women help you," answered 
 the sister. " Do not despair. At the last moment a 
 good change may come." Then she gave Cassia mi- 
 nute directions for the case, and added : " I must now 
 go elsewhere. Three rooms away there is a young 
 man in the last agony ; it is terrible to die without 
 prayer and human sympathy." She vanished with 
 the words, and John and Cassia stood together by 
 Kaymund's side. He did not recognize them ; he 
 did not hear their voices ; he was wandering alone in 
 a land afar off, where the pains of hell had got hold 
 of him in " a land of deserts and of pits, in a land 
 of drought and of the shadow of death, in a land 
 that no man passed through, and where no man 
 dwelt," and into which lover nor friend might follow 
 him. Raving, tossing, muttering, slowly parching 
 and burning up, Raymund lived on day after day, 
 
110 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 though it seemed almost certain that he would never 
 more recognize the sorrowing, loving wife who kept 
 such faithful vigil by his side. 
 
 But He that "turneth man to destruction" says 
 also, " Return, ye children of men ; " and the voice is 
 as mighty to save now as when it stopped the funeral 
 at the gates of Nam and opened the grave of Laz- 
 arus. Slowly Raymund came back to life slowly 
 and fretfully. In the extremity of his physical 
 weakness he thought of nothing but his physical 
 comfort. John watched him with a sad thoughtful- 
 ness. He remembered solemn, peaceful hours, when 
 they had sat together and Raymund had seemed to 
 really enjoy discussing with him the great questions 
 of life and death and immortality. True, they had 
 never agreed, but the disagreement had been a re- 
 flective and gracious one. But, neither on his sick- 
 bed nor yet in the long hours of his convalescence, 
 would Raymund permit such subjects to be named to 
 him. " I am tired ; I can't think ; let me alone ! '' 
 Thus he put aside any conversation relating to the 
 deliverance he had experienced. 
 
 " What a master passion is physical pain ! " aid 
 John to Cassia, one day, when Raymund had been 
 peculiarly fretful and impatient. " I think if God 
 ever permits me to preach again, I will never say a 
 word which can encourage the idea of a death-bed 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAT. ^ 111 
 
 repentance. When men are suffering they wont, 
 perhaps they can't, think." 
 
 "John, I would not say that. At the last hour 
 Christ forgave the thief." 
 
 " Yes, but that thief had not been refusing his 
 mercy day after day and year after year. As soon 
 as his soul saw the Crucified he appealed to his love. 
 I think we build on that example without taking all 
 the circumstances into consideration. Cassia, you 
 must not trust Raymund's salvation to his last hours ; 
 seek for him that reasonable and honorable service 
 which remembers the Creator and Saviour in the 
 days of youth and health." 
 
 But John soon found that even such a just decision 
 must give way before extremities so great and awful 
 that nothing but the unlimited mercy of the cross 
 could lit them. Long before Raymund was able to 
 be moved all possibility of escaping from the city was 
 past. Vessels would not enter her harbor. Fugi- 
 tives from her were not allowed to approach the main- 
 land ; the inhabitants were shut up with the pesti- 
 lence. There was scarce a house into which it had 
 not entered. The regiment of Northern soldiers, 
 camped on the desolate sea- shore, were dying by 
 scores; their general, their officers, their doctors, had 
 fallen early in the epidemic ; and most of the sisters 
 of charity had died at their posts in the temporary 
 
THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 hospitals, or in hotels which had become hospitals. 
 The associations for volunteer nursing were quite in- 
 adequate to the demand, and when Raymund's doc- 
 tor said, one night, in John's presence, " Every nurse 
 is worth ten lives," John answered, promptly, " I am 
 ready to do my best ready now." 
 
 They went out together to a large building. It 
 had been, in former days, a splendid residence ; it was 
 then a shelter for the friendless and homeless sick. 
 On cots or on pallets on the floor twenty, thirty in 
 a room men and women lay in inconceivable ago- 
 nies. But the horrors of the place had not deterred 
 that noble human kindness which, in such times, links 
 humanity with divinity. Two or three physicians, 
 scarce able to keep awake in their exhaustion, were 
 passing up and down the aisles of misery ; men were 
 tenderly bending over the dying, and even holding 
 them in their arms. u Water! water! water!" was 
 the agonized entreaty penetrating every corner of the 
 building. John hastened to satisfy it, and it was in 
 such moments, as he caught the speechless gratitude 
 from dying eyes, that he forgot every thing but the 
 immeasurable sufficiency of the cross of Christ. At 
 the last moment of the last hour he lifted it up : " It 
 is as wide as the world, it is as long as time, it 
 reaches up to the bosom of the Father, it reaches 
 down, down, down, to a depth passing knowledge. 
 
THE TERKOR BY NIQHT AND DAY. 113 
 
 Cling to it ! Cling to it ! " he cried. " Xo one was 
 ever lost that clasped the cross ! " 
 
 From pallet to pallet he passed with the precious 
 hope and the precious water. In that supreme hour 
 every creed met and clasped hands. As he was talk- 
 ing thus to a dying soldier a sister of charity knelt 
 by a young girl in the last struggle. Before her 
 glazing eyes she lifted her crucifix, reciting in clear, 
 sweet tones, portions from the Litany for the Dying : 
 
 " " Come to her assistance, all ye angels of the 
 Lord. Receive her soul. 
 
 " ' May Christ, who called her, receive her ! 
 
 " ' Eternal rest grant her, O Christ! 
 
 " ' From the gates of hell deliver her soul, O Christ ! 
 
 " ' Lord, have mercy upon her ! 
 
 " 'Christ, have mercy upon her! ' 
 
 " Christ, have mercy upon lier," responded John, 
 and he held the girl in the closing agony, echoing, 
 with all his soul, the solemn litany of the sister. In 
 such scenes as these John understood the lesson of 
 the thief dying on the cross ; understood how many 
 would not come to Christ till they had been nailed 
 to some bitter cross, and made to look on him, and 
 driven at last to call on him, with trembling and with 
 tears ; and how then, Christ, looking down in love, 
 upbraiding not, promised them the kingdom. 
 
 John had long been a local preacher; it had been a 
 8 
 
114 THE LOST SILVER OF BEIFFAITLT. 
 
 matter of duty and conscience with him to secure the 
 right to speak a word in season, when the season 
 came; but at this time he first heard that divine 
 "call" which comes to no man with an uncertain 
 sound. John Wesley's charge flashed across his 
 mind : " Go not only where you are needed, but where 
 you are needed most ; " and he answered, joyfully, " I 
 will, Lord." 
 
 " And as he praj r ed he was aware 
 That some great Light was risen on him ; 
 And looking upward in his prayer, 
 He saw the door was opened wide, 
 And One was standing at his side 
 It thrilled his heart to see." 
 
 For three months this life continued. Men and 
 women dwelt at the mouth of the grave. The terror 
 by night, the pestilence that walked in darkness, the 
 destruction that wasted at noonday, was their com- 
 panion and their conversation. The invisible world 
 drew strangely near to the visible ; every one talked 
 with bated breath of things supernatural. It was an 
 atmosphere in which the solemn and thoughtful grew 
 spiritual, but which offended and angered natures of 
 clayey mold. Raymond grew scornful in it, moped 
 and wearied, and watched eagerly for the atmos- 
 pheric changes which would release the imprisoned 
 city. 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 115 
 
 Not one word from Briffault had reached them. 
 Postal service had been stopped soon after their ar- 
 rival, and other intercourse rendered almost impossi- 
 ble. For the fever had spread to all the small gulf 
 towns, and even some distance inland, and Briffault 
 was quite within its radius. So Raymund speculated 
 on the probabilities of its invading the lonely man- 
 sion, and fretted considerably about his sister and 
 madam, both of whom he loved much, after his own 
 fashion. 
 
 Had he known it, Gloria was having what she con- 
 sidered the very happiest period of her life. Events 
 at Briffault had not only made her mistress of her 
 own time, but also filled the long hot days with 
 supreme pleasure to her. In the first place, she was 
 not sorry to get rid of Cassia. Her order, neatness, 
 methodical life, and general serenity, irritated and 
 made her uncomfortable. She liked occasional quar- 
 rels ; she not only felt that she could appear to ad- 
 vantage in them, but that she had within her the 
 ability to direct them for her own advantage. Dur- 
 ing that unfortunate one, which had driven Raymund 
 into Galveston, she had w r atched her grandmother 
 with admiration and Cassia with contempt. If Ray- 
 mund should ever indulge himself in a like manner 
 again, she was almost certain she would be able to 
 astonish, very likely to control, him. 
 
116 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 She had not much fear of Raymund dying, for she 
 never admitted the possibility of any thing unpleas- 
 ant happening, until the fact was forced upon her. 
 Still she was not averse to seeing madam thoroughly 
 frightened. It was just as well for every one that 
 the house should be attended to, and made as safe as 
 possible. She liked to follow Souda from room to 
 room, and inhale the burning gums and sprinkled 
 camphor. She liked to visit the kitchen, and cabins, 
 and carry madam little items of exciting news. She 
 had not a particle of fear herself, and she despised 
 those who had fear; but it was pleasanter to play 
 upon this household string than to sit by madam's 
 side, and draw threads out of linen, and listen to her 
 reminiscences. Even if cheap novels had existed in 
 those days, and Gloria had possessed a library of 
 them, she would not have cut a leaf. To waste pre- 
 cious time over the delirious scenes of Ouida or Zola, 
 was a kind of passive sin, not in consonance with 
 Gloria's nature. She liked to be busy in her wrong- 
 doing busy with hands and feet, eyes and tongue. 
 
 About three weeks after Cassia left Briffault for 
 Galveston madam became very ill. For two weeks 
 she had had a headache, and an excessive, yet rest- 
 less, languor. She had watched herself continually, 
 but the distinctive symptoms of yellow fever were 
 svanting. 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 117 
 
 u It is malaria, of course," she said, positively, to 
 Souda ; " Give me the quinine bottle." 
 
 Every day, however, the malaria grew worse ; she 
 fought it desperately ; she would not lie down, she 
 went from room to room, and tried to interest herself 
 in all that was done. But one morning she was found 
 prostrate and unconscious. Typhus, of the most viru- 
 lent form, had seized her ; the doctor insisted on the 
 strict isolation of his patient, and Gloria was left en- 
 tirely to her own devices. 
 
 She took up her abode in a room at the opposite 
 side of the house to madam's ; she had the blinds 
 flung wide, and she let the sunshine penetrate every 
 corner of it. The windows were filled with flowers, 
 and a couple of specially comfortable chairs brought 
 from the parlor for her use. In this room, she gave 
 orders, all her meals were to be served. The serv- 
 ants arranged their lives as satisfactorily to them- 
 selves in their cabins as Gloria in her selected apart- 
 ment, and Souda and madam kept their vigil of suf- 
 fering and seclusion, without any sympathy or inter- 
 ference. 
 
 For a day or two the sense of complete unrestraint 
 was delicious to the self-willed girl. She ordered all 
 the delicacies she liked best ; she ate and drank, and 
 sunned herself, and dressed herself, and took her 
 sleep, usual and extra, with all the complaisant satis- 
 
118 THE LOST SILVER OF BRTFFAULT. 
 
 faction of a petted kitten. Then she began to think 
 of amusing herself. But how ? She loved bright, 
 rapid, tinkling music, and her supple fingers made 
 it admirably, but she could not play the piano while 
 madam was ill. She tried her lace work, it tired 
 her eyes ; she tried a book, it bored her ; she went 
 into the kitchen, the servants had a little company of 
 their own, and they did not want Miss Gloria. 
 
 However, she had a good store of that physical fe- 
 licity which springs from a brisk and healthy circula- 
 tion. The sunshine was a joy, and she could feel a 
 certain satisfaction in her own gay, light movements 
 in it. As no one cared for her company she strolled 
 down the avenue. She watched the birds flitting 
 through their green palaces, and the brilliant lizards 
 basking in the warmth, and the sun making pretty 
 patches of shadow leaves on her white mull dress. 
 At the iron gates she stood a moment looking into 
 the road. It was so seldom any one passed, that she 
 had no curiosity, and no expectation in the long gaze 
 she sent down it. But no moment of a day is safe 
 unless it has been put into God's keeping. A horse- 
 man was really approaching, riding slowly, and sing- 
 ing some rollicking ditty that chimed in with the 
 " trop-a-ty, trop-a-ty " of his horse's feet. He was in 
 the fatigue dress of a cavalry officer, and, even at a 
 distance, had an air of " dash " that was attractive. 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 119 
 
 " He must be coming here," thought Gloria ; and 
 the prospect of such a visitor made her eyes flash 
 with pleasure. She strolled slowly toward the house, 
 and it was not long ere she was overtaken. 
 
 " Captain Grady," said the officer, lifting his cap. 
 
 " Miss Briffault," answered Gloria, with one of 
 those graceful womanly courtesies, that have, unfor- 
 tunately, gone out of fashion. 
 
 Then Captain Grady and Miss Briffault entered at 
 once into conversation. The captain had heard that 
 Raymund had a pair of fine horses for sale, and he 
 wished to buy before going to his western post. 
 The explanations that followed, with much incidental 
 conversation, passed an hour in the shady avenue with 
 great satisfaction. Then it was too hot to ride, and 
 refreshments were offered, and Gloria played the 
 hostess charmingly. No beings in all the world are 
 so utterly, cruelly selfish as two young people desir- 
 ing to please each other, and who are uncontrolled by 
 either religious feelings or any particular sense of 
 duty. On that hot, languorous, dreamy summer 
 day, what was it to Denis Grady and Gloria Briffault, 
 that a desolate, hopeless soul was suffering the terrors 
 of death and the torments of fever in a room above 
 them ? Did Gloria give one thought to the brother 
 who had always petted and loved her, and who was, 
 if still alive, in suffering and distress? Certainly 
 
120 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 not ! She was thinking only of delicacies for her 
 guest, of setting the table elegantly, of what dress 
 she looked best in, of Captain Grady's handsome 
 figure and dashing manner, and of his delightful 
 way of complimenting her. 
 
 The captain saw that he had made a conquest, and 
 he was well inclined to secure it. Gloria appeared 
 to him a very bewitching girl ; and the fabulous 
 amount of her grandmother's wealth was a standard 
 piece of local gossip. No one was long in the neigh- 
 borhood without hearing it. The previous night a 
 planter, with whom he had stayed, had advised him 
 " to look after the little girl. She will get all the 
 madam has saved, and that must be considerable of a 
 pile," he said. So, as Raymund was generally known 
 to be at Galveston, it was most likely the pretty, 
 lonely heiress, rather than the pair of cavalry horses, 
 that led Captain Grady to visit Briffault. 
 
 In the cool of the evening he left, and Gloria 
 walked down the avenue with him, as she had so 
 often walked with John Preston. She looked so 
 lovely in a dress of pink tissue, with broad bands of 
 silver gauze in it, that the captain thought she was 
 worth "looking after," independent of madam's 
 hoard. He wooed her as, perhaps, only an Irishman 
 and a soldier can woo as if the world held no other 
 woman, as if her smile was more than life, and her 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 121 
 
 pleasure the end of existence. Gloria believed it all. 
 Denis Grady was the kind of lover she had read 
 about. John had never called her "queen" and 
 " goddess," and vowed to shoot himself if she did 
 not give him one smile. The spider spun his web in 
 the sight of the fly, and the silly creature believed all 
 its cruel chambers to be for her special glory and 
 delight. 
 
 For several weeks there was no one to interfere 
 with her interviews with Captain Grady. Into the 
 mysteries of madam's chamber of suffering only 
 Souda penetrated. She said madam was going to 
 get better, and she said it half-resentfully. Undoubt- 
 edly, to the weary and waiting maid, it did seem 
 unreasonable for a woman so old to cling to life. 
 Souda was watching the furniture and dresses she had 
 been promised. Others, besides Souda, have resented 
 the lengthening out of lives beyond the three-score 
 and ten. From Souda Gloria had been careful to 
 preserve her secret. She feared none of the other 
 servants ; it was scarcely necessary to buy their pas- 
 sive co-operation ; for if they were aiding in deceiv- 
 ing madam and Souda, they thought that a sufficient 
 satisfaction. 
 
 It was thus that Gloria spent the summer, so full of 
 misery to her grandmother and brother, to John and 
 to Cassia. Before it was over she was completely 
 
122 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 under Denis Grady's influence. She had told him 
 every thing she knew. She had promised to be his 
 wife, either with or without the consent of her 
 friends. No information she had given Denis had 
 been more pleasant to him than that concerning the 
 jewels madam had laid aside for her bridal present. 
 He thought about them until he felt they were his 
 own. He speculated as to the sum they would bring ; 
 he had arranged half a dozen ways of spending the 
 proceeds from them. 
 
 Early in September madam was convalescent. 
 Nine weeks of fever and helpless prostration she had 
 lived through. She was very weak, but " The old 
 life is in me," she said, snappishly, to Souda, "and I 
 have taken a new lease of it." Still Gloria was al- 
 most terrified when she first saw her. The fever had 
 burned her to skin and bone, and she could hardly 
 lift a finger of her hands. But her eyes were blacker 
 than ever, and had a double measure of the old re- 
 sentful " glow " in them. Gloria was naturally de- 
 ceitful, and she had at this time a paramount reason 
 for being so. She wept over the old lady, and fondly 
 kissed her white mouth and sunken temples. 
 
 " I thought I never should see you again, grand- 
 ma ; I have been miserable about you ! O dear, what 
 a dreadful time it has been ! " 
 
 And self-deception is such an easy thing ! Gloria 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 123 
 
 half imagined she was sincere. It was so much nicer 
 to imagine it, and so much easier to say nice things 
 when she did so. And madam craved human sympa- 
 thy so much, that she was glad to believe her. For, 
 when one returns from the grave's mouth, the sight 
 of dear familiar faces and the sound of tender words 
 are so sweet. No wonder madam looked lovingly on 
 the bright, handsome, apparently affectionate girl. 
 
 " Come to me often," she whispered, " Souda has 
 been very bad to me. I have no one but you, Gloria. 
 I will pay you, dear ; I will pay you well." 
 
 Ah, it was pitiful for a woman so old to feel that, 
 after all, payment might be necessary ! Madam had 
 come to an hour in which her hoarded gems were 
 valueless, save to buy a little love, a little human 
 sympathy, with. She had a sad and angry complaint 
 to make. 
 
 " Souda wanted me to die. She tortured me with 
 thirst. I was at her mercy, and she showed me none. 
 She went to sleep and left me alone, and O, Glo- 
 ria, I saw such sights ! " she whispered, shudder- 
 ing at the memory. " I was crazy with fever, of 
 course ; but why did the evil ones come to me then ? 
 Child, be good ! Be good ! I have lost the road ; I 
 left it so many, many years ago, I never could find 
 it again, even if I tried to. But you are still within 
 the call of your good angel. Keinernber what you 
 
124: THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 learned from the sisters. We wont laugh at John 
 Preston again ; perhaps you had better marry him." 
 
 " O grandma, I can't do that. I promised you I 
 never would. I don't like John any more, and I do 
 like some one else very much. I want to tell you 
 about him." 
 
 It had suddenly appeared to Gloria the best thing 
 to do; and she related such parts of her expe- 
 rience with Captain Grady as were most propitia- 
 tory and pleasant. Madam listened with interest, 
 and yet with a pang. She perceived that Gloria had 
 not been as miserable as she had represented herself. 
 She understood that the lovers had very likely looked 
 upon her illness as not unfortunate to themselves. 
 In her weak condition she could scarcely keep the 
 despairing tears out of her sad, black eyes. She felt, 
 for a moment, that it was a pity she had come back 
 to a world in which she was so little wanted ; for it 
 was evident to her that Gloria had been fully and 
 happily occupied with her new lover, even while she 
 lay at death's door. 
 
 But she kept her hard thoughts to herself. Her 
 isolation frightened her. Raymund might be dead ; 
 if she quarreled with Gloria, she would have nobody 
 left. She decided, in a moment, that it would be 
 better, if it was possible, to make a friend of Denis. 
 She invited him to her room and was pleased with 
 
THE TEKROK BY NIGHT AND DAY. 125 
 
 him. In a couple of weeks he had quite won her 
 good-will and her admiration. His reckless, jovial 
 way, his fine appearance, his suave manners, even his 
 becoming uniform, made a favorable impression on 
 the old lady. She put herself in Gloria's place, and 
 partly excused the girl's infatuation. 
 
 The marriage was frequently spoken of in madam's 
 presence. She was more childish since her sickness, 
 and she found a great delight in opening up her 
 treasures of silk and lace for the bridal garments. 
 The subject of the jewels was re-opened, and madam 
 was foolish enough to show Denis the portion she 
 had laid aside for her grandchild. He knew their 
 value well. He considered within himself how many 
 months of such a life as he loved was in them. He 
 reflected, also, that if madam was willing to give such 
 magnificent bridal gifts, Gloria's future portion in 
 gold would be of proportionable value. So all went 
 happy as a marriage bell for the lovers during the lat- 
 ter part of September and the first weeks in October. 
 
 About the middle of October there was a storm 
 which shook Galveston island to its foundations. The 
 waters of the bay and the gulf met in its center. 
 There was a roaring, hurtling tempest around it, and 
 a tremendous battle in the firmament above it. It 
 was " a day of wasteness and desolation, a day of dark- 
 ness and gloominess, a day of clouds and of thick 
 
126 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 darkness," and throughout its hours the storm gath- 
 ered strength. All night the inhabitants sat still in 
 terror, while the sea beat at their doors and their houses 
 rocked in the terrific wind. Raymund was speech- 
 less, Cassia kept the vigil on her knees ; but John's 
 soul was uplifted in a solemn, almost in a triumph- 
 ant, adoration. After midnight, when the beating 
 and crashing and fury of the elements were at their 
 height, they heard him, as he stood at the window, 
 or walked slowly about the room, saying : 
 
 " ' Before him went the pestilence, and burning 
 coals went forth at his feet. He stood, and measured 
 the earth. . . . The everlasting mountains were scat- 
 tered, the perpetual hills did bow. ... I saw the tents 
 of Cushan in affliction. . . . Was thy wrath against the 
 sea, that thou didst ride upon thine horses and thy 
 chariots of salvation ? . . . The overflowing of the 
 water passed by : the deep uttered his voice, and lifted 
 up his hands on high. The sun and moon stood still 
 in their habitation : at the light of thine arrows they 
 went, and at the shining of thy glittering spear. . . . 
 Thou wentest forth for the salvation of thy people ! ' ' 
 
 " How terrible is this night," said Cassia. " O that 
 the day would come ! I am afraid, John." 
 
 " There is nothing more to fear now. The Lord 
 has arisen for the relief of the city. His angels are 
 driving away the powers of darkness that have been 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 127 
 
 permitted here for a season. O, if our eyes were now 
 opened ! If we could but see the battle in the firma- 
 ment above us ! See ' the man Gabriel,' or * Michael, 
 the great prince which standeth for the children of 
 thy people against the evil ones ; ' then we should say, 
 as Elisha said to his servant, ' Fear not : for they that 
 be with us are more than they that be with them.' " 
 
 As the dawn broke the tempest lulled off with 
 mighty sobbing winds ; sullenly but surely it went, 
 and with it departed every trace of the dreadful pes- 
 tilence. The next day the people arose, as one man, 
 to build up, and to repair, and to put out of sight and 
 memory the traces of their great calamity. Then 
 Raymund and Cassia and John turned, with grateful 
 hearts, homeward. 
 
 They reached JBriffault about five o'clock in the af- 
 ternoon. " There has been no trouble here, I think," 
 said Raymund, for he noticed that the avenue was 
 clean and well-kept, and that in Gloria's hammock a 
 handful of fresh tuberoses and a piece of lace work 
 were lying. The house was open ; there were fresh 
 flowers in the stands. " All is evidently well at 
 Briffault," he repeated to Cassia ; then, turning to 
 John, he added : " Come in, John ; how good it is to 
 be at home again." He spoke happily to the man 
 who came forward to attend to their horses, and 
 asked, " All well, Alick ? " 
 
128 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 " Yes, sa' ; yes, sa' ; all well now. Madam has been 
 sick, but she's dune got well now, sa'." 
 
 " O ! " Raymund did not attach much importance 
 to the news. Cassia had gone to her room, and he 
 followed her with a light heart. What dreadful days 
 had passed since, in his blind passion, he left his 
 home ! He remembered the whole affair as he en- 
 tered it, but it was a thought which he put instantly 
 away. Cassia had suffered for changes of clothing in 
 Galveston ; she was happy to get back to her ward- 
 robe, and was turning over her plentiful store of 
 snowy linens and lawns when Raymund entered. 
 Her happy look pleased him. 
 
 " No place like home, is there, wife ? " he asked. 
 
 " No place like home, Ray. Briffault is beautiful 
 to-day." 
 
 Then he kissed her, and at that moment he was 
 really sorry for his fault, but he did not say so. In 
 actual life people who confess their faults and atone 
 for them are much rarer than in print. 
 
 " I will go now and see madam," he said. " Alick 
 says she has been sick. I suppose Gloria is with her." 
 
 Madam's room was on the east side of the house ; 
 all its windows looked east and north. But she had 
 heard the stir of the arrival, and connected it with its 
 proper source. 
 
 " Sit still, children," she said to Denis and Gloria, 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 129 
 
 who were taking tea with her. " Sit still ; Raymund 
 is sure to come here, and I prefer to introduce Denis 
 myself. It has happened very well, I think." 
 
 But Raymund did not think it very well. He re- 
 ceived the introduction haughtily, drew himself away 
 from Gloria's caress, and, after a few words of stinted 
 courtesy, withdrew. And as Raymund, like madam, 
 had the ability to make himself uncomfortably felt in 
 every room of the house, if he wished to do so, Cap- 
 tain Grady left much earlier than his wont. 
 
 When he came down stairs Gloria came with him. 
 John was sitting on the veranda, and she went for- 
 ward, with her pretty demonstrative manner, and 
 spoke to him. John took her hands, and looked 
 gravely and inquiringly in her face. The look 
 troubled her, and she pirouetted round and said : 
 
 " Come here, Captain Grady. This is Colonel 
 John Preston, of the late C. S. A." 
 
 Captain Grady came forward with a laugh he 
 was always laughing and Gloria wanted to make 
 John laugh, also. She thought it ill-natured in him 
 not to do so. 
 
 She was just going to descend the steps with Cap- 
 tain Grady when Raymund appeared. 
 
 " Captain Grady will excuse your company, Glo- 
 ria," he said, positively. " The dew is falling." 
 
 " There is not a drop of dew, Raymund." 
 9 
 
130 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " Still Captain Grady will excuse you." 
 
 He had placed himself by her side, and lightly 
 clasped her arm ; but Gloria knew how readily the 
 clasp could tighten, if necessary. She turned her 
 pretty face, in a blaze of anger, toward him : 
 
 " You are just as ill-natured as ever, Ray." 
 
 " And you are just as silly and as false, you little 
 traitor ! " Then, as soon as Captain Grady was far 
 enough away, he 'removed his hand and said: "Go 
 and make your peace with John. If I were he I 
 would never forgive you ! Never ! " 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders and remained standing 
 against one of the pillars of the veranda. Ray left 
 her thus, and John rose and went to her. It was a 
 foolish concession. She perceived she had John in 
 her power, and she determined to spare him no 
 trouble she could give. He spoke to her several 
 times, and she took no notice at all of his presence ; 
 but when he turned away from her she recalled him 
 with, " What do you want, John ? " 
 
 " What does a lover want from the girl who has 
 promised to be his wife ? I want a word of welcome, 
 Gloria a smile such as you used to give me." 
 
 " Did I promise to be your wife ?" 
 
 " You know, Gloria." 
 
 " I had forgotten. I am going to marry Captain 
 Grady." 
 
THE TERROR BY NIGHT AND DAY. 131 
 
 " You said you loved me. O, Gloria ! you said you 
 loved none but me 1 Did you lie to me then ? No, 
 you could not be so wicked, so cruel." 
 
 " If I said that, of course, I was only in fun." 
 
 She looked so mocking, so tantalizing, so beauti- 
 ful, that John, in his grief and wonder, could only 
 gaze on the heartless girl. She was pulling his 
 heart to pieces, as coolly as she was pulling the petals 
 of the tuberose in her hand. She would not lift her 
 eyes; but John felt there was neither love nor 
 pity in them. For a minute they stood thus, then 
 John said : 
 
 "Gloria." 
 
 Something in the tone mastered her, and she looked 
 into his face. It was a very handsome face, and a very 
 tender one ; but the steel-gray eyes were full of grief 
 and anger. 
 
 " Gloria ! you have done a wicked and unwom- 
 anly thing. There are few good men who would 
 not scorn you for it ; but I loved you, knowing right 
 well, from the first, how perverse and selfish you 
 were. I loved you with all your faults. I shall 
 always love you. You can go nowhere my love will 
 not follow you. Some day, some day, perhaps, I 
 may be able to do you good farewell, darling! 
 God forgive you! God bless you, Gloria, wherever 
 you go ! " 
 
132 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 True emotion is infectious. At the last moment 
 she was troubled at the great sorrow she had caused. 
 
 " I am sorry, John," she said, in a low voice, and she 
 lifted her fair, bewitching face to him. But he put 
 her sadly away. 
 
 " No, no, no ; that is past. Try to be true to some 
 one. O, Gloria ! my love ! my love ! my love ! " 
 
 He left her standing where Ray had left her. 
 The floor at her feet was white with the torn leaves 
 of her flowers. She was vexed at every one. 
 
 " It is a pity they did not stay a little longer," 
 she thought in her selfish soul ; " we were so happy 
 without them." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 133 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 THE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 
 
 " The Master is come and calleth 
 
 For thee : he is at the door ; 
 Awake ! for his shadow falleth 
 Across the floor." 
 
 " Alas, for all 
 
 The loves that from his hand proud Youth lets fall, 
 Even as the beads of a told rosary." 
 
 FOR many days Gloria's love affairs kept the house 
 in an atmosphere of dispute and anger; and 
 Cassia could not help resenting it. She had resolved 
 to make their return home a kind of household fes- 
 tival, and to date a new and happier life from it. 
 She had made many new plans, and many good reso- 
 lutions, and this selfish girl spoiled every thing ; and 
 did it, also, with an air of innocence and regret, which 
 quite deceived Raymund. Every one and every thing 
 was to blame but Gloria. In some tacit way Cassia 
 was made to feel that all the girl's imprudences had 
 been the result of that unfortunate quarrel which 
 had left her without adequate protection. 
 
 " Both of us away, and madam sick," Ray kept 
 
134- THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 saying ; " of course there was nothing to prevent 
 the child becoming the prey of wicked, designing 
 men." 
 
 " Thoughtless cruelty comes from a selfish heart, 
 Ray. There was no obligation on Gloria to enter- 
 tain herself with a stranger, while her grandmother, 
 and her brother, and, for all she knew to the contrary, 
 her accepted lover, were in danger and distress. At 
 the very time madam and yourself were at the 
 gates of death, she was arranging little dinners for 
 this Captain Grady, and dressing herself as for a fes- 
 tival. Yes, she told me how charmingly she had 
 thus passed the time. It is an incredible selfishness, 
 I think." 
 
 " Women are women all the world over." 
 
 "It is not fair, Ray, to judge all womanhood by 
 Gloria. How many thousands of beautiful young 
 girls were unprotected and uncounseled during the 
 war, and how very rarely one of them soiled by a 
 suspicion the honor left in her own keeping! Fa- 
 ther and John were four years away; I did not 
 amuse myself while their hourly fate was uncertain." 
 
 " You are an angel, Cassia." 
 
 " No, I am not. I am a woman full of faults, and 
 I have just proved it by complaining of Gloria's con- 
 stant interference with our happiness. An angel 
 would have borne it with more patience." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BKIDE. 135 
 
 She turned away, troubled at last, for she fancied 
 there was an inflection of sarcasm in Ray's voice. 
 
 The conversation had arisen out of a very painful 
 scene between Gloria and her brother, in which he 
 had positively forbidden her to see Captain Grady 
 again. Raymund had been making inquiries about 
 the officer, but had learned very little concerning him. 
 The planter, with whom he had been staying, under- 
 stood that he had been sent on regimental business to 
 the East ; but owing to the blockade against Galves- 
 ton, had been unable to transact it. He had, how- 
 ever, left for that city as soon as he understood com- 
 merce had been resumed, and was not expected to 
 return for six weeks. 
 
 Possibly the officer was, as madam asserted, a very 
 suitable husband for Gloria ; but Raymund, on prin- 
 ciple, disapproved of every thing arranged without 
 his advice and permission. Also, he had come to 
 the conclusion that John Preston was exactly the 
 man capable of the long-loving endurance he knew 
 Gloria's peculiarities would demand. During the 
 terrible fever season he had learned to trust in John, 
 and admire in him qualities which yet he had no 
 desire to imitate ; and he was grateful to him for the 
 faithful care with which he had nursed him back to 
 life and health. It angered him that John had been 
 so summarily dismissed; he was equally angry be- 
 
136 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 cause lie took the dismissal. " A woman's < No ' 
 means ' Yes,' John," he said ; " and, as for a rival, 
 that doubles the delight of winning." 
 
 But John shook his head gravely. A girl whom 
 two men thought they had a right to claim had lost, 
 in his eyes, her sweetest charm. If she had only 
 been true to him, and to her own promises, he could 
 have forgiven many other faults. But if she did not 
 love him entirely, how was he to influence her in 
 their life together ? She would have no compelling 
 motive to obey or to please him, and would very 
 soon resent his authority, and make a mock of all her 
 obligations. It was not John's habit to deceive him- 
 self ; he had looked at his disappointment squarely, 
 and accepted it. But he loved the girl with all his 
 soul, and he suffered more than any one, except 
 Cassia, understood. 
 
 Deprived of both her lovers, time went wearily to 
 Gloria. She had only one relief her correspondence 
 with Denis Grady ; and as Raymund had strictly in- 
 terdicted it, the clandestine nature of the pleasure 
 afforded her that taste of the forbidden which was 
 essential to her happiness. Madam enjoyed it with 
 her. It was through her contrivance and connivance 
 letters were sent and received. For, as Raymund 
 attended to the mail-bag himself, and carefully ex- 
 amined all its contents, and as he kept Gloria very 
 
THE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 137 
 
 much under his own eye, some agent was necessary. 
 Several plans were discussed in madam's room, and 
 the reliability of the different servants considered 
 there. 
 
 " Thar aint de fust one ob dem to be 'pended on," 
 said Souda, scornfully. " Dey might say it, and dey 
 might swear it, and den some day Mass' Ray will just 
 look at dem, wid dem half -shut eyes ob his, and dey'd 
 fall down at his feet and tell him all, and, far more 
 dan all dat, dey knows. I'se gwine myself. I aint 
 been off de place since freedom ; and dey says I'se 
 'fraid to go off de place ; so no one will be lookin' 
 fur Souda to open de gate." 
 
 " But suppose you meet Master Raymund, Souda ? 
 He would be sure to suspect. If he asked you where 
 you had been, what could you say ? " 
 
 " I'd tell him I'd been fur a pair ob new shoes, 
 and I'd hab de shoes in my hand. Mass' Ray knows 
 shoes hab got to be fit on, and I'd just tell him shoes 
 don't last fureber." 
 
 Madam was delighted at Soucla's co-o petition, and, 
 after this point was settled, minor ones were easily 
 arranged. For three weeks the woman, by some lit- 
 tle management, passed almost every day between the 
 nearest mail village and Briffault, although it was a 
 distance of five miles. One evening she was return- 
 ing home, with a letter from Denis Grady in her 
 
138 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 pocket. She had been singularly sad all day, and 
 had accounted for the feeling, to herself, by supposing 
 " her spirit was in some trouble of which her body 
 knew nothing at all." One event after another of 
 her early life came back to her. " What's de matter 
 wid me ? " she asked herself. u What fur I t'ink ob 
 dis and dat, when de circumstance done gone fur- 
 eber?" 
 
 It was one of those calm, pensive evenings, when 
 the sun's rays are pale, and the air amber and subtle, 
 and the charmful silence has just a vague stir in it. 
 The wild vines had covered every thing with a 
 drapery richer in purple and gold than any tissue 
 woven for kings' robes ; and the brown butterflies 
 displayed their velvets on the year's last flowers. 
 Souda sat down to rest under a row of palmas, and 
 the great bristling heads of bayonet-leaves made a 
 grim background for the solitary, mournful woman. 
 Holding her large, black face in her hands, she gazed 
 into the space before her with the melancholy of a 
 lost soul in her eyes. 
 
 " What I made fur ? What I made fur ? Just to 
 sin and to suffer ? Somet'ing wrong somewhar." 
 As she had complained before, things long forgotten 
 called to her. She remembered deeds of injustice 
 and cruelty that made her tingle with annoyance and 
 shame. One whom she knew not saw her under the 
 
TIIE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 139 
 
 palma trees, and brought her sins to remembrance. 
 And, O, who can bear to sit in full view of their 
 own sinful souls ? Souda could not ; she grew impa- 
 tient, almost angry, under the contemplation, and 
 rose to pursue her journey. As she did so she heard 
 the sound of a human voice, a voice sustained and 
 equal, like that of a man reading aloud. 
 
 " Mighty strange t'ing ! " she muttered, as she di- 
 rected her steps toward the voice. There was a little 
 grove of cedars in front of her, and it seemed to come 
 from the road on the west side of them. It was not the 
 nearest road to Briffault, but she took it. There was 
 a famous spring on this way-side, and she judged 
 rightly enough that any travelers near that locality 
 would be camped for the night beside it. 
 
 As she approached the place she saw John Preston 
 standing upon the slight eminence overshadowing the 
 bubbling, crystal waters. His head was bare and he 
 had an open book in his hand, from which he was 
 reading aloud to a little company gathered near 
 fierce, tawny-bearded men, armed to the teeth, spurred 
 and booted like cavalry soldiers Lavacca teamsters 
 carrying four wagon-loads of valuable merchandise 
 to the interior. It was possible they might have to 
 defend it, and they were ready to do so ; but they 
 were by no means the quarrelsome desperadoes they 
 looked to be. One had his wife and child with him, 
 
14:0 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 and the woman sat at John's feet with her baby 
 asleep in her arms. Some of the men leaned against 
 the rough cedar trunks and smoked as they listened ; 
 others lay upon the ground, with their hats drawn 
 over their eyes. Souda went softly to the woman's 
 side, and sat down beside her. 
 
 In the awful aisles of the yellow fever hospital 
 John had only one theme to preach from the cross 
 of Christ and in the lonely sweetness of the cedars 
 and the prairie it was still his text. " Behold it ! " 
 he cried. " It reaches from your clasping hands up 
 to the throne of God ! Who is on it ? The Christ 
 of the poor and the sorrowful ! The Christ of the 
 slave and the prisoner ! The Christ of the Magda- 
 lene ! The Christ of every sinner that ever lived ! 
 His outstretched arms embrace the world. His 
 pierced hands have broken the chains of the devil, 
 and turned the key of the prison house of hell. Je- 
 sus calls you, hearken : ' Follow me ! I will in no 
 wise cast you out. I have the joys of heaven, but I 
 died for earth ! I have the adoration of angels, but 
 I want your love ! ' O, can you turn him away ? 
 Here, in this wilderness, where he has nowhere else 
 to lay his head but on your hearts. Will you not 
 take him now ? " 
 
 There was no answer, but the whole atmosphere 
 was sensitive with emotion, and John had to pause a 
 
THE KUNAWAY BRIDE. 141 
 
 moment in his impassioned pleading ere he could ask 
 again: 
 
 " Can you turn him away ? " 
 
 Souda could not bear it. Had she sat still she must 
 have cried out. With a face almost stern she rose 
 quickly and went away. Never, in all her restrained, 
 sinful life, had she heard words like these. Her soul 
 was in a tumult, and the old cry, that will ever be 
 new until the end of time, rose to her lips : " What 
 shall I do? What shall I do?" 
 
 Generally it had been a little triumph and pleasure 
 to her to bring home a letter. The whole affair had 
 suddenly become of no account in her eyes. She 
 laid it in Gloria's hand without a word, and went 
 about her usual duties, like one in some great sorrow. 
 For two days the woman endured such misery as 
 souls know when they " look upon Him whom they 
 have pierced." On the afternoon of the third day, 
 while madam was asleep, she took a horse and rode 
 over to the Preston ranch. John was taking his 
 siesta, but she insisted upon his being awakened. 
 When he saw Souda he was frightened. He thought 
 at once of Cassia, of Gloria. 
 
 u Why have you come ? " he asked. 
 
 " I'se come, Mass' John, 'case I'se de miserablest, 
 broken-heartedest woman in de worl'. I done heard 
 you preachin' Monday night, and I'se had no rest, no 
 
Ii2 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 sleep, no peace eber since. What kin you do to help 
 me, Mass' John?" 
 
 Then John's face brightened all over. He sat 
 down by the poor soul, and talked to her until theyi 
 were both weeping. He told her that she might be 
 sure that when she was seeking Christ, Christ had 
 been first seeking her. He told her of the mercy 
 of Christ, of the gentleness of Christ ; he prayed 
 with the weeping woman until a great peace filled the 
 room and the divine miracle was again repeated ; for 
 that hour " Jesus was guest in the heart of one who 
 was a sinner." 
 
 "He has forgiben me ! " cried Souda, in a kind of 
 wonder. " He has forgiben me ! Now I'se free, 
 Mass' John ! I'se free now, soul and body ! O, de 
 glory ob it ! What shall I do, Mass' John ? " 
 
 " Go home, and God will show you, Souda. You 
 are his child now, and you have a right to ask him 
 about every thing. You will need help, ask it all the 
 way home." 
 
 And O, how blessed is that peace which Christ gives 
 to his own ! That quiet within the soul, that restful 
 life beneath all other life, which is not ruffled by any 
 doubt, and against which neither death nor hell can 
 prevail. Souda's countenance was quite changed. 
 Madam noticed it the moment she entered the room, 
 and rejoiced at it, also ; for, though we may affect to 
 
THE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 143 
 
 despise our servants, they really hold a great deal of 
 our household happiness in their hands. 
 
 " So you have found your temper, Souda. I con- 
 gratulate myself on the circumstance. You have had 
 the devil in you since Monday." 
 
 " Fse done got rid ob him, eber more got rid ob 
 him. I'll iieber lift a finger nor tell a lie fur him 
 again ; long as I live, if de good Lord help me, an' I 
 know he will." 
 
 Madam stared at her in silence a moment, then 
 laughed immoderately. 
 
 " Why, you wicked old woman, do you pretend to 
 have got religion ? " 
 
 " Fse got 'ligion, bless de Lord ! Fse got it ! " 
 
 " Really ! Now where did you get it ? " and she 
 emiled sarcastically at Souda, as she sat sipping her 
 afternoon tea. 
 
 " De Lord send Mass' John Preston wid a message 
 fur me, and I listened to him." 
 
 " John Preston, of course ! And you really have 
 the presumption to think the Lord knows any thing 
 about you ? " 
 
 " He bought me from de debil, and he's forgiben 
 me all my sins, and Fse gwine to sarve him all de 
 rest ob my life ; sure ! " 
 
 " Very well," answered madam, languidly, " the 
 subject does not interest me. I don't suppose your 
 
144 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 service in that direction will interfere with your 
 duty to me." 
 
 Now the earliest results of that intimate commun- 
 ing between the mortal and the immortal, of that 
 witness of the Spirit, which is, to the humblest and the 
 most ignorant, " the evidence of things not seen," is a 
 desire, first, to speak of the miraculous joy ; second, 
 to do some good to others. That night Cassia was 
 sitting in her room with the Bible in her hand. She 
 had finished her portion, and was meditating, with 
 closed eyes, upon it. 
 
 "Miss Cassia!" 
 
 "What is it, Souda?" 
 
 "Miss Cassia, I'se been forgiben, and made happy 
 by de Lord, and I'se come to ask you fur to forgibe 
 me, too. I'se been mighty ugly many a time 'bout 
 you-" 
 
 " O, Souda ! Is that so ? " She took the woman's 
 hands, and, standing up, kissed her. "I am more 
 glad, more glad than I can tell you. Come often 
 and speak to me. Don't lose your confidence, Souda ; 
 but if you do for one moment, come to me, and we'll 
 seek it together. And you must join the church at 
 Wanl's Station as soon as possible, then you'll have 
 the whole church to help you." 
 
 In the first joy of her experience Souda almost 
 wished for hard trials and impossible acts of self- 
 
THE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 145 
 
 denial. She had saved about one thousand dollars, 
 and she wanted to give it all away to some good 
 work. But John had said to her, positively, " Go 
 home and do your duty; as soon as God has any 
 special work for you, Souda, he will be sure to 
 let you understand it. Perhaps it may be his will 
 that you remain with madam. If so, you will do 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes, I'll do it, Mass' John. I hope de Lord hab 
 mercy on me now. 1'se been many, many evil years 
 in dat bondage." 
 
 For about a week after this event things went on 
 at Briffault in their usual course. Souda had many 
 a sneer from madam and many a mocking laugh 
 from Gloria to bear, but she was as one that heard 
 not. The following Sabbath evening she asked per- 
 mission to go to the preaching at Waul's Station, and 
 she was refused. A little later, as she passed through 
 the yard to the kitchen, for something madam 
 wished, she saw a very old woman, who was stone 
 blind, feel her way with her stick, to the well, and 
 then try, with her trembling hands, to draw herself a 
 drink of water. Souda had been very hard on this 
 woman in years gone by ; she had caused her suffer- 
 ing and sorrow without stint, and she had seen her 
 many and many a time make just as painful efforts ; 
 
 and the sight had never troubled her before. But 
 10 
 
14:6 THE LOST SILVER OF BBIFFAULT. 
 
 this night her heart ached, her eyes filled. She went 
 to the well-side and took the bucket from her. 
 
 " Jane, I will draw you some water." 
 
 " Fur de Lor's sake ! " The old woman trembled 
 with terror. She lifted her sightless eyes to Souda's 
 face. It was more than Souda could bear. She 
 leaned upon the well-curb and cried bitterly. 
 
 "I'se had you whipped often, Jane. I got de 
 madam to sell your little daughter 'way to Orleans. 
 I'se made you cry your eye-sight clean gone. I 
 wonder, O, I wonder, ef you can forgive me ! " 
 
 " I'se forgiven you long ago, Souda. When Jesus 
 Christ forgave me, dat hour I forgave you, forgave 
 you eberyt'ing." 
 
 Then, rapid and vivid as a flash of light, Souda's 
 reparation was made clear to her. It sprung up in 
 her heart perfect ; she did not need to think it out, or 
 make plans, or regulations, or by-laws, concerning it. 
 
 " I'se gwine to take care ob you as long as you live, 
 Jane. You sha'n't eber want your cup ob tea, nor 
 your pipe, nor any comfort I kin git you ; and you 
 shall have de best cha'r in de chimbley corner, no 
 matter who comes next. Mass' John Preston done 
 tole me dat most ob de Briffault people are in Gal- 
 veston some ob dem very bad off dar was Moke 
 and his wife, dey died ob de fever, and lef four little 
 chillen. I'se gwine down to Galveston. I'se gwine 
 
THE RUNAWAY BBIDE. 147 
 
 to take you wid me. I'se gwine to make a home fur 
 dein as needs it de little chillen and de sick women, 
 and de men when dey has de rhumatiz and sich. I'se 
 got a thousand dollars, and I'll take in de fine wash- 
 in', and none ob de ole Briffault folks, in trouble, 
 shall eber want a home. But you shall allays be de 
 fust, Jane." 
 
 " O my good Lord ! What a wonder ! Souda, 
 Souda, am dis true 2 Sure true ? " 
 
 " Sure true, Jane. And ef de Lord will help me 
 I'll find your little Jane fur you. I will, indeed ! " 
 
 The next minute's communing between the women 
 was without speech, but Souda's heart was joyful, and 
 she gave Jane her draught of cold water, and led her 
 carefully back to her comfortless cabin, with many a 
 word of hope and comfort. 
 
 Souda kept her promise, kept it without delay, and, 
 as often happens, the change, apparently great and 
 difficult, was effected with little real trouble. Madam 
 was passionately angry, and Gloria annoyed, at the 
 confusion it might cause in her correspondence with 
 Captain Grady; but Cassia rejoiced in the project. 
 She believed it to be the best thing for Souda to cast 
 entirely off the trammels of her sinful slavery, and to 
 begin, in fresh and better surroundings, a life of self- 
 denial and good works. She went through her own 
 stores and cheerfully gave such things as were abso- 
 
148 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 lately necessary to the new home. As for Raymund, 
 he also was glad of Souda's retirement from Briffault. 
 He had long resented her influence with madam, 
 and her overbearing authority among the other hands. 
 He blamed her for much that was offensive in mad- 
 am's behavior to Cassia ; he sincerely thought his 
 home would be happier without the tall, black 
 women, who had dominated in it for so many years. 
 But he gave her a handsome present, as she stood for 
 the last time on his threshold, and he said no word to 
 discourage her work of reparation, though he laughed 
 to himself sarcastically as he resumed the newspaper 
 he was reading. 
 
 Madam was now mainly dependent upon Gloria, 
 and Gloria did not enjoy the position which Souda's 
 defection had almost compelled her to take. Another 
 maid was hired to attend to madam's physical wants ; 
 but she expected Gloria to talk to her, to bring her 
 news, or to read to her, when she wished to be enter- 
 tained in that way. The life became a kind of bond- 
 age to the. restless, selfish girl. She complained bit- 
 terly to her lover of the " cruel " demands made upon 
 her time and strength, and, of course, he sympathized 
 with her. Just for once, he begged her to meet him, 
 unknown to any one, and promised to be waiting for 
 her, at whatever time and place she chose to ap- 
 point. Her first impulse was to name midnight, at 
 
THE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 149 
 
 the lower end of the avenue. That would have been 
 the most romantic, but she reflected that madam was 
 wakeful and watchful at that hour, and that it would 
 be uncomfortable, and too dark for Denis to see either 
 her beauty or her toilet. So she decided upon a 
 certain little grove of live oaks behind the house as 
 the place of meeting, and named two o'clock in the 
 afternoon as the time. Denis was waiting, in a new 
 uniform, and looking more dashing and handsome 
 than ever. He had a daring scheme to propose, and 
 he had taken every pains to augment his personal 
 influence. 
 
 " I am going to Washington and New York next 
 week, Gloria, my darling, and unless you go with me, 
 I don't know when we may meet again." 
 
 The hook was twice baited " Washington and 
 New York," "unless you go with me." Gloria 
 seized upon these words at once, and they were the 
 texts of all their further conversation. Every thing, 
 also, was in the tempter's favor. Gloria was weary 
 of her life, weary of madam's wants and exactions, 
 weary, even, of her affection. Winter was coming 
 on, and winter at Briffault would be dull and dreary ; 
 while winter in New York or Washington meant 
 balls and operas and endless gayety. The captain 
 said his regimental business would detain him in the 
 North until spring; and then he pictured the de- 
 
150 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 lights of a life in camp at that season the daily gal- 
 lops, the trials in rifle shooting, the visiting, and per- 
 fect freedom. And the handsome soldier, so brave 
 looking, so graceful and ardent in his wooing, gave 
 to the temptation a reality and power the foolish 
 girl could not resist ; in fact, she had no desire to 
 resist it. She submitted her will entirely to the will 
 of Denis, and as soon as he was sure of this, he made 
 his final proposal. The jewels her grandmother had 
 promised they were hers, twenty times over, they 
 were hers. He had heard them given to her at least 
 that often. She must manage to get them in some 
 way or other. 
 
 " Let me see madam," he urged ; " she will doubt- 
 less agree to our marriage, and give you the present 
 she promised." 
 
 He knew well that madam would do nothing of 
 the kind, but he wished Gloria to assume the part he 
 designed her to play. 
 
 The girl fell readily into the trap. 
 
 " No, Denis," she answered, positively ; " grandma 
 has changed her views somewhat since Souda left 
 her. I told you so, if you would remember. She 
 does not want me to marry for a couple of years ; 
 and she said yesterday that I should have three 
 months in Austin this winter, and there, perhaps, I 
 might see some one whom I could love better than 
 
THE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 151 
 
 you, and who would not take me so far away from 
 her, as if I ever could love any one but you, Denis." 
 
 " Then, Gloria, there is only one thing to be done. 
 I will have a buggy waiting here to-morrow night, 
 and before your brother is awake in the morning we 
 shall be in Galveston, and married. You can secure 
 your jewels by that time." 
 
 "I will tell you a better way. Grandma goes to 
 bed about dawn. Her maid sits the first part of the 
 night with her; I sit the latter part, when I feel able. 
 I shall be able to-morrow morning, and while grand- 
 ma is in her first sleep I shall get what I want. 
 Then I will meet you here. It may be seven or 
 eight o'clock." 
 
 Gloria went home quite satisfied with her inter- 
 view. Her splendid lover ! The delights of Wash- 
 ington and New York ! Not for a moment did she 
 hesitate between them and her duty. She made her- 
 self charming to madam. She lavished the prettiest 
 attentions upon her. She induced her to talk of her 
 own days of beauty and triumph ; for she knew well 
 such a conversation usually brought forward the laces 
 and jewels of that period. It was as she expected. 
 The little drawers were placed upon the table by 
 madam's side, and the old, trembling yellow fingers, 
 and the young, shapely white ones, toyed with the 
 glinting gems, and talked of the scenes in which they 
 
152 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 bad sparkled. " These ! and these ! and these ! you 
 shall take with you to Austin," said madam, pointing 
 out the rosy rubies, and moonlight pearls, and the 
 rich set of gold and aqua marines. 
 
 And the pretty Judas kissed and thanked her; 
 and as she replaced the drawers, chatted so pleas- 
 antly, madam never noticed that she locked, and then 
 unlocked, the inner cabinet, so that there was only 
 the main key to turn, when the moment of abstrac- 
 tion came. She took her rest as usual. She wanted 
 to look well on her wedding-day, and she knew the 
 value of the early beauty sleep. But about two 
 in the morning she rose, and with a light step 
 and bright face went to madam's room. Madam 
 was delighted to see her. The new maid, Josepha, 
 was nodding wearily bv the window. Gloria sent her 
 to bed, and then sat down to amuse madam. It was 
 her last watch, she could afford to keep it pleasantly. 
 She made the hours, usually so wearisome, pass rap- 
 idly away, and at dawn, madam had thoroughly ex- 
 hausted herself. She fell into a profound sleep. 
 
 Gloria tested it in various ways, but not even the 
 falling of a chair disturbed the unconscious woman. 
 Without hurry, and without a tremor, she opened 
 the cabinet. It was an easy matter enough. She 
 took whatever she desired, and left in one of the 
 empty drawers a little note which she had written 
 
THE KUNAWAY BRIDE. 153 
 
 for the purpose. Then she locked them all, and 
 having carefully turned the main key, put it in its 
 usual hiding-place. Madam had never stirred ; 
 Gloria stood a moment and looked at her, then she 
 closed the door softly, and hastened to her own room 
 to complete her arrangements. 
 
 A pretty combination suit of wood-colors, with 
 hat and gloves to match it, lay ready for her to put 
 on. She carried the small leather bag holding the 
 jewels in her hand, and, deliberately buttoning her 
 gloves, passed through the yard at the back of the 
 house. A servant was lazily drawing a bucket of 
 water, but her back was to Gloria, and she never 
 noticed her. Nothing, no one, interfered between 
 her and the evil fate she was going with such satis- 
 faction to meet. Denis was watching for her. He 
 came joyfully to welcome her, lifted her with kisses 
 into the buggy, and drove her rapidly away. 
 
 It was a pleasant morning, a little frosty, but only 
 cold enough to make comfortable the fleecy pink 
 scarf, which she drew around her neck with a con- 
 scious sense of its becomingness. Denis had only 
 asked in reference to the jewels, " All right ? " and 
 been quite satisfied when she put her hand on the 
 bag with a meaning smile. " You are as clever as 
 you are beautiful," he answered ; " not every girl is 
 clever enough to take her own." 
 
154 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 She laughed pleasantly, and he kissed her. She 
 made no pretenses of regret, and cast no looks back- 
 ward. She had determined to have a happy wedding- 
 day, and to have it undimmed by any reference to 
 the happiness of others. She thought, with a scornful 
 complaisance, of Cassia's tolerance with her own inter- 
 ferences, and she determined no one should share in 
 her peculiar pleasure. 
 
 At Briffault she was not missed until the noon- 
 hour lunch. It was supposed she was sleeping after 
 her watch with madam. No one thought of disturb- 
 ing her, even when Cassia noticed her absence. But 
 suddenly, a few minutes afterward, Raymund laid 
 down his knife and fork. One of those sharp pre- 
 sentiments, not to be put aside, had struck him like a 
 blow. He said to the girl in waiting : 
 
 " Go to Miss Gloria's room, and tell her lunch is 
 ready." 
 
 She came back in a few minutes. 
 
 " The door am locked, sar, and I kaint make Miss 
 Gloria hear me." 
 
 Raymund rose instantly. He was already in a 
 passion, for his heart divined what had happened. 
 He placed his knee against the door, and with one 
 blow flung it wide. Cassia had followed him, and he 
 turned angrily to her : 
 
 " This is your care of the child, is it ? " 
 
THE EUNAWAY BRIDE. 155 
 
 His anger gathered strength with every thing 
 his eye fell on. He tossed the dresses and slippers 
 and the knick-knacks of the pretty room before 
 his passionate steps. His eye fell at last upon a 
 note addressed to himself. It confirmed his sus- 
 picions. 
 
 " She has gone with that Denis Grady ! I wonder 
 where your senses were, Cassia, to let a child like 
 Gloria outwit you ! I hope, I do hope, you were not 
 willingly, intentionally blind." 
 
 " Ray, how can you insinuate such a crime against 
 me? I never once suspected Gloria. Why not 
 rather accuse madam ? " 
 
 " Because, as the lawyers say, madam had no inter- 
 est in getting rid of the poor girl." 
 
 Cassia turned indignantly away. She knew it was 
 useless to defend herself. Then Raymund went to 
 madam. She had heard him at a distance, and was 
 prepared to resent another exhibition of his tem- 
 per. Not even his startling statement that Gloria 
 had fled made her move an inch from the position 
 she had taken. 
 
 " I don't in the least wonder," she answered. 
 " Any one would flee from you who had the power 
 and the opportunity. It is your own fault, sir ! You 
 were always tormenting her about John Preston. 
 You never did any thing to make the place pleasant 
 
156 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 for a young girl. I am glad she has gone ! Very 
 glad, indeed ! " 
 
 Madam seemed to take a delight in irritating her 
 passionate grandson, and he very soon got beyond 
 caring for either what lie did or what he said. 
 
 " Why are you storming at an old woman like 
 me ? " she asked, scornfully. " Have you not got a 
 wife ? Your father would have been on the heels of 
 Denis Grady by this time. Bah ! your anger is only 
 words ; only words, sir ! You are a coward, sir ! 
 You are afraid of Grady's sword ! You are afraid 
 of your wife ! You come here to bully an old wom- 
 an ! I will have my maid turn you out of my room 
 unless you leave it at once, sir ! " 
 
 In her passion she had risen without her stick and 
 advanced toward him. Her eyes blazed. By sheer 
 force of will she mastered him. Step by step, still 
 facing him, she talked him to the door, and, as he 
 passed through it, she closed it violently and turned 
 the key. 
 
 " He has cost me a year of my life," she muttered, 
 as she sank, almost fainting, into her chair. " What 
 does he come here for? Let him go to his wife I 
 Let him go to his wife ! " 
 
 That night, while madam fretted and scolded over 
 Gloria's selfish desertion and Raymund's selfish attack 
 upon her, she heard an unusual stir in the house. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BRIDE. 157 
 
 Women ran hither and thither. Raymund called for 
 his horse and galloped down the avenue at its fiercest 
 speed. At a similar speed he returned an hour aft- 
 erward, and, toward the dawning, she heard and 
 she could not help crying out herself as she heard 
 it the hard, unmistakable wailing of a new-born 
 child. 
 
158 THE LOST SILVER OF BUIFFAULT. 
 
 CHAPTEK VL 
 R A Y'S LEGACY. 
 
 " Bewitched with noise and show, 
 He fain would see the world, and have a share 
 In all the follies and the tumults there ; 
 And business he would have, and would create 
 Business : the frivolous pretense 
 Of human lust to shake off innocence." 
 
 ris safe to say that no life is exactly the same after 
 jn interval of more than three years. Something 
 in its circumstances or surroundings has changed. 
 Outsiders may not observe it, but those who pass be- 
 hind the doors know the difference. Gloria had 
 dropped completely out of the life at Briffault ; her 
 name, if not forgotten, was never spoken not even 
 by madam. At first she looked anxiously for some 
 word from her ungrateful grandchild, and, if it had 
 come, she was inclined to pardon her freely. But 
 Gloria, in the first triumph of her new position, never 
 thought of her past life. Nothing in it, at that time, 
 was necessary to her happiness, and she was not of 
 that noble order of souls who double their pleasures 
 by sharing them. The selfish girl knew well what a 
 
EAY'S LEGACY. 159 
 
 delight her letters, full of descriptions of Washington 
 or New York life, would be to madam ; but it would 
 have cost her an effort and an hour or two of time to 
 write them ; and, besides, she liked best those joys 
 which she isolated. She did not want any body even 
 to talk of affairs which she regarded as strictly her 
 own. Cassia's generosity, under the same circum- 
 stances, gave her no sense of gratitude ; she knew 
 how selfishly she had abused it, and she was deter- 
 mined no one should interfere with her in the same 
 way. 
 
 Madam felt her desertion so keenly that at first 
 she was fain to seek some comfort from Cassia's ex- 
 cuses ; but one morning, about six weeks after Glo- 
 ria's flight, some trifling circumstance led her to her 
 jewel drawers. Then she discovered her loss, and 
 it may be j ustly said the gems were the poorest part 
 of it. She lifted the little note, with trembling fin- 
 gers, and read its few words very slowly : 
 
 " DEAR GRANDMA : I know you will not be angry 
 at my taking what you have so often and so kindly 
 given me. Denis joins his * fare well' with mine. 
 We shall always remember you. GLORIA." 
 
 It was carelessly written ; there was even a tone 
 of patronage about it. Madam felt that the small 
 
160 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 courtesy had been a bore. She thought perfect si- 
 lence and a blank between them had been better. 
 Her lips set firmly and her eyes darkened. She had 
 often shed a few tears about her favorite ; she thought 
 that she would never do so again. With an angry 
 deliberation she tore the note into small fragments 
 and threw the white strips, one by one, upon the blaz- 
 ing logs. She looked up at Burke Briffault's picture, 
 and an unspeakable sadness was on her face. 
 
 " O, the mistakes of life ! " she murmured. " O, 
 the bitter mistakes we make ! O, if time could run 
 back again ! " 
 
 Up and down her room she wandered, implacably 
 removing every trifling memento of her treacherous 
 grandchild. 
 
 But she was a woman of strong affections, and all 
 her life she had lavished them upon some one object 
 she had made specially dear to her. With the singu- 
 lar taste so common to old age, she turned to infancy. 
 Ray's little daughter became her idol, and when it lay 
 asleep upon her knee her whole countenance changed. 
 JThe child had been called " Mary," after Cassia's 
 mother, and, much to every one's surprise, madam -ap- 
 proved the choice. 
 
 " It is the sweetest of names," she said ; and then, 
 almost in a whisper, " My mother was called Mary." 
 
 And so little Mary Briffault reigned in the place 
 
RAY'S LEGACY. 161 
 
 of many other idols, dead or deposed, and she ruled 
 madam absolutely. 
 
 During these three years things had not gone well 
 with Raymund. His crop for two seasons had been 
 a failure ; he was beginning to feel the anxiety which 
 comes of straitened means. Unfortunately his was 
 neither the eye nor the hand of the diligent master. 
 He had occasional fits of careful oversight, but they 
 did not last. Madam had managed affairs much bet- 
 ter, and in her days the income had never fallen be- 
 low the expenditure of the place. But Raymund 
 could not grapple with small difficulties nor enter into 
 petty details. He began to talk of renting the land 
 and of going into some other business. He visited 
 Galveston frequently, and he returned home, after 
 such visits, in very variable moods. 
 
 One morning, nearly three years after Gloria had 
 left her home, Raymund received three letters. The 
 first he lifted was an urgent request for money over- 
 due. He read it, shrugged his shoulders, and threw 
 it into the fire. The second was from Gloria. He 
 glanced at the post-mark, a small town upon the Rio 
 Grande, and, without opening it, threw it also into 
 the fire. The third was fro:n .Dick Ratcliffe. lie read 
 it carefully and looked at Cassia. Breakfast had just 
 been brought in, and she was making coffee. Usually 
 
 he was content to feel the charm of her sweet beauty 
 11 
 
162 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 and calm, gracious ways, without any accurate notice 
 of them. But he was conscious of a more particular 
 estimate at this moment. He thought she was love- 
 lier than when they were first married. As he took 
 ? in with delight the graceful curves of her fine form 
 and the spotless neatness of her attire, she lifted her 
 large, dark eyes, beaming with love, to his face. He 
 had not intended to tell her about Katcliffe's letter, 
 but, somehow, the matter slipped from him. 
 
 " Ratcliffe is dying, and he says he would like to 
 see me, Cassia dear." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! How terrible to die in such a 
 place!" 
 
 u He was good to me when I took the fever." 
 
 " Yery good. I shall never forget it. God re- 
 member it to him at this hour ! " 
 
 " I think I ought to go. The Ratcliffes have been 
 connected with us for four generations." 
 
 " If you could say one word, Ray, he might listen 
 to you ; or, if you don't like to speak, you might ask 
 John to do so. He is in Galveston, at the Trernont ; 
 ask him to pray with the poor soul. Do, Ray ; he 
 got you a bed and a physician, and called your friends 
 to you ; try and bring him some hope and comfort at 
 his last hour. You ought to, indeed you ought. No 
 one else, perhaps, may think of it." 
 
 " I don't like to meddle in such matters even a 
 
RAY'S LEGACY. 163 
 
 dying man is apt to resent any thing so personal and 
 what is the use now, any way ? " 
 
 " You know the use ; he very likely does not, Ray ; 
 you will not be innocent if you neglect such an 
 obvious duty. Perhaps for this very reason he has 
 remembered you." 
 
 " What a little Methodist you are, Cassia ! You 
 should not say such uncomfortable things. Dick 
 Ratcliffe's soul is none of my affair." 
 
 " But if you see John, you will tell him Ratcliffe 
 is dying ; will you not ? " 
 
 Raymund tried to see John. Somehow Cassia's 
 words had given him a feeling of obligation in the 
 matter, and he was glad to shift it to John's 
 conscience. 
 
 About a week afterward John Preston was walk- 
 ing slowly down the ribbed and water-lined sands. 
 The ocean's murmer haunted it like a spirit voice ; 
 and the sea looked dimmer for the phantom foam 
 which showed the irresistible set of the tide, gliding 
 up to the land between the night and morning. He 
 walked very slowly, for it was a hot, languid summer 
 midnight, and he was also greatly troubled. Twice 
 he turned and looked at the house from which he had 
 just come the long, low hut in which Dick RatclilTe 
 lay dying. He had been to see him often during the 
 past week, and he had always been received with 
 
164 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 courtesy and indifference. The apathy of the men 
 to every thing but the game they were playing 
 struck John with terror. If he had seen them i:i 
 some dream of hell, he could scarcely have felt more 
 hopeless. Conscience seemed utterly dead. Nothing 
 beyond the bare tables at which they sat interested 
 them. 
 
 Yet on this night, though he had just left the 
 place, he felt impelled to go back. Ratcliffe was at 
 his last hour. The doctor had told him so. But at 
 the last moment John had seen men turn their 
 dying eyes to the cross, towering above their sins 
 and their wicked lives. So he hastily retraced 
 his steps. In the outer room two men were playing 
 euchre, and a red-eyed bar tender was drowsily watch- 
 ing the game. They glanced up as John re-entered, 
 but never ceased the shuffling of the cards in their 
 hands. No one stayed him, and he pushed aside the 
 door of the death room. 
 
 His eyes fell upon an awful scene. The dying 
 man had been propped up in his bed, and, with three 
 of his companions, was playing his last game. His 
 eyes were glazing, his hands almost clay, and when 
 he saw John the cards dropped from them, and, with 
 a low cry of terror, he fell back, dead. 
 
 " Dick has lost his game," said one of the men, ris- 
 ing, and flinging down his " hand." His partner, 
 
KAY'S LEGACY. 165 
 
 with an uneasy laugh, followed his example. They 
 would have passed John, but he stood in the door, 
 and he laid his hand upon the foremost : 
 
 " He has lost his soul, Dacre ; that is the game he 
 has lost. You have been dicing with the devil on 
 the brink of perdition,- and one of you has fallen into 
 it. O, if you would only lay the warning to heart !" 
 
 They pushed past him with an exclamation of 
 angry impatience; and he went up to Raymund, who 
 still sat at the table with his share of the devil's deal 
 in his hand. Raymund rose, with an apology. 
 
 " You see, John, it was such an old friendship- 
 four generations and the cards were the only thing 
 he had any comfort in." 
 
 " What kind of a friendship is that which asks you 
 down to the bottomless pit, Ray? Will you sell 
 yourself, soul and body, for these ? " 
 
 And he took the bits of painted paper out of Ray's 
 hand and flung them, with tears and righteous anger, 
 upon the dirty table. 
 
 Raymund did not answer ; his hat lay by his side 
 upon the floor; he lifted it, and followed John out of 
 the room. At the bar he stopped, put down the 
 price of his whisky, and said : 
 
 " Ratcliffe is dead." 
 
 The bar tender blinked his sleepy eyes, and 
 muttered : 
 
166 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " I thought so." 
 
 The men whose play he was watching were ab- 
 sorbed in their game ; one said something about 
 " a big funeral," the other said, in a business-like 
 manner, " I pass." They had been joined by a third 
 party, a hunchback, who was in a fever of excite- 
 ment, and not even " the specter with the equal foot- 
 steps " could make them lift their eyes from the 
 golden stake and the cards in their hands. 
 
 Outside, on the sandy beach, John was waiting for 
 Raymund. He was standing bareheaded and mo- 
 tionless, and his solitary figure in the eerie light was 
 solemnly pathetic. Raymund heard no sound, but 
 he knew that John was praying, and the idea of an 
 intercessor occurred clearly to him. 
 
 " I will go home, late as it is," he said to John ; 
 " I think it will be good to see Cassia and the 
 children." 
 
 It was broad daylight when he arrived at Briffault, 
 and he went softly up stairs. He felt almost ashamed 
 to enter his wife's presence. He could not rid 
 himself of the atmosphere of defilement which 
 he had brought from Ratcliffe's, and he wondered 
 if she. would be conscious of it. Almost he hoped 
 that she was still sleeping; then he could throw 
 off his soiled suit, and bathe and refresh himself 
 ere he spoke to her. But she was dressed and 
 
RAY'S LEGACY. 167 
 
 cooing soft words of love over the crib of his little 
 Mary. Her soft mull robe fell round her in snowy 
 folds, as she bent to the child ; and the child's bare, 
 dimpled arms clasped the mother's neck. He took in 
 at a glance the peace and purity, the exquisite order 
 and beauty of the white, still room. After Dick 
 RatclinVs bar, it was like the precincts of a temple. 
 
 His footstep was instantly heard, and Cassia laid 
 down the child and turned to him with a smile. At 
 first he thought he would tell her nothing of what 
 he had seen, for why should such knowledge of sin 
 be given to her ? But the same " necessity " of con- 
 fidence was on him that ruled the Ancient Mariner. 
 He felt that he must " needs" speak of the awful scene 
 in which he had been an actor ; for his soul shivered 
 in its guilty fear, and longed to take hold of some- 
 thing purer than itself. They were speaking in low- 
 tones, for the sake of the sleeping baby ; but he 
 dropped his voice almost to a whisper, as he said : 
 
 " Dick Ratcliffe is dead ! I told you John could 
 do nothing there, Cassia." 
 
 Then, in a few vivid sentences, he went over the 
 death scene, and Cassia listened, with parted lips and 
 eyes full of fear and pity, to the relation. That morn- 
 ing he was glad to see her praying ; glad to think 
 that his name was whispered to the Lamb of God, on 
 whose mercy he had, at least, a traditional belief. 
 
168 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 For lie felt that he had been very near to the gates of 
 Tophet, and the terror of the place was on him. 
 
 But as the hours went on in glory and song and 
 sunshine, the feeling grew less distinct. He told him- 
 self that, under no circumstances, would he have be- 
 haved in a manner so vulgarly impious and indiffer- 
 ent ; and he made a new resolution never again to 
 play any game contaminated by a bet or stake. In 
 that day of examination he admitted his faults, his 
 ungovernable temper, his extravagance, his idleness, 
 his fitful craving for change and excitement, his con- 
 
 O O ' 
 
 stant neglect of all religious duties. But he also re- 
 minded himself that he had many good points : he 
 did not drink ; he was a loyal, and, for the most part, 
 an affectionate husband : he was fond of his children ; 
 lie read good literature ; he felt, as most irreligious 
 men do feel, a great interest in spiritual ideas ; and he 
 really liked a theological discussion. He excused 
 himself for his love of play; he considered it an 
 hereditary passion, a rather respectable thing, if he 
 kept it in control. He was fond of telling stories of 
 his grandfather's reckless and fortunate bets, and of 
 his father losing and winning thousands at a sitting. 
 To such thoughts as these he smoked the hours away on 
 the shady veranda ; feeling rather pleased with himself 
 for his candid examination of his faults and virtues. 
 It was, upon the whole, a happy day to him. He 
 
KAY'S LEGACY. 1C9 
 
 watched his wife and children, and somehow, by a 
 kind of vicarious process, which he did not try to an- 
 alyze, he felt himself the better for their innocence 
 and virtue. 
 
 A few days afterward, he was sitting at his favor- 
 ite resort on Tremont Street, Galveston. It was a 
 hot day, but he looked cool and clean, and very hand- 
 some, in his white linen suit and white chip hat, and 
 the pleasant wavering shadows of the china trees all 
 over him. He was thinking about money, and his 
 thoughts were anxious ones. But just as he had 
 come to that hopeless point at which he usually 
 abandoned reflection, a lawyer whom he knew very 
 well, said : 
 
 " Good-morning, Briffault. Did you get my letter 
 about Ratcliffe's legacy ? " 
 
 "What legacy?" 
 
 " You know he has left you twenty thousand dol- 
 lars?" 
 
 "I know nothing of the kind. "Why should he 
 leave me money ? " 
 
 " Why should he not leave you money ? He left 
 Dacrc twenty thousand dollars, and Jennings ten 
 thousand dollars. If you will call this afternoon, we 
 can settle the matter. Good-morning." 
 
 It was easy enough now for Raymund to resume 
 the thinking process. He considered that he had a 
 
170 THE LOST SILVER OF BHIFFAULT. 
 
 fine house and land and servants and horses and car- 
 riages. He had credit, also, for every article of 
 necessity or luxury that he could desire. The one 
 thing that he wanted the one thing of which he 
 never had sufficient was ready money. He thought 
 of twenty thousand dollars ; it seemed such a piece of 
 good fortune to him. But it was not very respect- 
 able money ; every cent of it had been made at the 
 gambling- table or the liquor bar. He felt as if there 
 was a kind of dishonor in accepting it. Though why 
 it should be more dishonorable to accept Ilatcliffe's 
 winnings than to pocket his own was one of those 
 singular points of distinction only clear to a gambler. 
 
 Going up the street, a little later, he met Dacre 
 and Jennings. The men were never far apart ; they 
 were finger-and-thumb, hand-and-glove partners in 
 every game. They loaned each other money, and 
 stood by each other in their quarrels; and these 
 obligations fully covered their idea of friendship. 
 Dacre was a tall swarthy man, with a fierce, swagger- 
 ing air ; Jennings was an Englishman, with the sharp, 
 red face of a fox, and a perpetual snarl in his voice. 
 
 " Good-morning, Briffault." 
 
 " Good-morning, sir." 
 
 "Briffault, if you will put ten thousand dollars 
 down, I will put ten thousand dollars, and Jennings 
 will put five thousand dollars, and we will buy that 
 
RAY'S LEGACY. 171 
 
 cavallard of horses at Dilke's Station. The govern- 
 ment have proposals out for double the number. They 
 can be driven to Forts Ware and Ringold, and we shall 
 make dollar for dollar. It is a good thing, Briffault." 
 
 "I have no doubt of it. Why, then, don't you 
 and Jennings work it without me ? You could, you 
 know?" 
 
 " Yes, sir-r ! we could. But we have other plans. 
 Neither of us care to leave the cards when we have 
 so much gold to handle them with. We'll go it 
 equal half for trade and half for play; and I'll bet 
 you one hundred dollars that playing pays the best." 
 
 " I will think over it, gentlemen, and let you know 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " No, to-night. We must buy to-rnorrow, or else I 
 reckon we'll be after time. Slatey is running the 
 old shop ; you can call in there. Say seven o'clock ?" 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 Briffault was apparently calm, but he was really 
 full of excitement. This was the very opening he 
 had been longing for. He would go with the caval- 
 lard himself, and employ his own servants. He had 
 felt life terribly stupid and dull, and here was the 
 very work he could do. Then the enormous profits ! 
 It was safer, also, than gambling, and he felt that he 
 must do something with his money. His money ! 
 Yes, he had fully accepted it ; and at seven o'clock 
 
172 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 lie met Dacre and Jennings, and the compact was 
 made and signed. The men had hardly expected that 
 Briffault would go himself to the frontier, but they 
 were well pleased when he proposed it. In money 
 matters the family had an honorable name, and Brif- 
 faulfc was a man likely to look well after any under- 
 taking of which he had the absolute control. The 
 following day Raymund went home. He was anx- 
 ious to tell Cassia of the fortune that had come to 
 him, and yet at the bottom of his heart there was 
 the conviction that she would regard the legacy as 
 unacceptable. It was late in the evening when he 
 reached Briffault, and the moment he saw his wife 
 he perceived that something had greatly annoyed 
 her. She was walking restlessly about the parlor, and 
 there was a scarlet flush on her cheeks, very unusual 
 to their delicate tint. She gave him no time to ask 
 her any question. As soon as she had greeted him 
 she cried out, in a voice trembling with emotion : 
 
 " O Hay, my dear, Mrs. Dacre called here to-day, 
 and she says Ratcliffe left you twenty thousand dol- 
 lars. You ! Put you on a level with Dacre and 
 Jennings! Forgive me, Ray, but it is such an insult. 
 I have been burning with shame ever since I heard 
 it ! I can tell you I spoke my mind very freely to 
 Mrs. Dacre." 
 
 " I am sorry you did, Cassia. It was very foolish. 
 
HAY'S LEGACY. 173 
 
 Money is money, and it is too late A. D. to have any 
 Quixotic notions about it." 
 
 " Ray ! you surely don't intend to take Dick Rat- 
 cliff e's money ? " 
 
 " I do not intend to refuse it." 
 
 "Then bring none of it here, Ray. I wont touch 
 it. I will want, I will see my children want, ere we 
 will eat such sinful bread. Ratcliffe raked it out of 
 hell ; yes, he did ! You know how he died. It is 
 worse than blood money ! " 
 
 He lit a cigar and answered, calmly : 
 
 " Don't go into heroics, Cassia. There is no use 
 having trouble about the matter. It would be an 
 absurd thing for a man to ask every dollar for its 
 pedigree. In that case you would have to want. I 
 don't believe there is a clean piece of money in the 
 world, unless it is in the mint ; and I would not be 
 sure of it, even then." 
 
 " That is a forced argument. "We have nothing to 
 do with the antecedents of money. "We have only 
 to be sure that it comes into our pocket in some way 
 that we can ask God's blessing on it. To a good 
 spender, God is treasurer ; dare you kneel down and 
 ask him to keep Ratcliffe's money for you? No, 
 you dare not. It is money with the devil's mintage 
 mark upon it ; don't touch it, Ray. And why should 
 he leave his shameful earnings to you ? Put you on 
 
174 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 the same level as Dacre and Jennings ! Had lie any 
 spite at you ? Did lie wish to disgrace yon ? Why 
 should he give you twenty thousand dollars ? " 
 
 "My father and grandfather lost a great deal of 
 gold in his place ; perhaps it is conscience' money." 
 
 " No, no, no ! Gamblers have no consciences. 
 They have no souls, and no affections, and very little 
 intelligence. A professional gambler, like Ratcliffe 
 was, has nothing of his humanity left but ten fingers 
 to shuffle cards with. O Ray, don't be angry with 
 me! I am pleading for you, and for our little chil- 
 dren. Don't touch that money, I entreat you. It is 
 the devil's coin. He wants to buy your soul with it. 
 Will you take twenty thousand dollars for eternity ? " 
 
 She was under great excitement, and weeping bit- 
 terly. Ray rose impatiently, but, controlling himself 
 by a great effort, he answered, with forced calmness : 
 
 " Look here, Cassia, I will not listen to another word 
 of such nonsense. I have already invested ten thou- 
 sand dollars of the money in horses, and I am going to 
 the western forts with them. I am tired to death of 
 hanging about the house and of cultivating land that 
 makes a failure of its crop every year. If I do not 
 get into business soon the place will be eaten up with 
 debt, and there will be nothing left for me but a hand 
 in Dacre's and Jennings's games. You ought to be 
 glad of such an opportunity for me. It is a respect- 
 
RAY'S LEGACY. 175 
 
 able business, and one that will give me tine 
 profits." 
 
 " You are beginning it with Ratcliffe's money. I 
 would rather you sold Briffault, if you want capital. 
 I don't care how profitable a business is, if you have 
 the devil for a partner in it. Nay, dear Ray, what 
 shall it profit if you gain the whole world and 
 lose" 
 
 He would not let her finish the sentence. He rose 
 in a passion, and Cassia, as yet undisciplined by sor- 
 row, flung herself upon a couch in an abandon of 
 grief and indignation. 
 
 But Ray's mind was fully made up. Though he 
 respected her scruples in his inmost heart, he was 
 angry at her for compelling him to scorn them. 
 
 " She need not have forced such an alternative on 
 me," he thought, " and she might have known that 
 when I made plenty of money she could have all she 
 desired for her chapel and her charities. Yes, in- 
 deed," he added, in a little burst of self-deception, 
 " if I could afford it I would gladly build the chapel 
 that John was speaking about at Shallow Springs." 
 And the infatuated man never perceived that he was 
 precisely indorsing the action of the sinner who stole 
 the leather and gave the shoes to God. 
 
 He left in two days for the West, and Cassia, in 
 her distress, went to see madam about the matter. 
 
176 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 Her pale face and red eyes irritated the old lady. 
 She could iiot endure women who wept. 
 
 " If you did not want him to go," she said, scorn- 
 fully, " you should have made his home more attract- 
 ive. You could have invited Dacre and Jennings 
 
 O 
 
 here, and given them an empty room, and a table, 
 and a pack of cards. What are you crying for ? " 
 
 " The sin of it ! And the constant temptation to 
 ein." 
 
 " Did you imagine that Raymund Briffault was a 
 saint when you married him ? Bah ! you knew bet- 
 ter. The house and the land and Ray himself have 
 all been doing badly enough for the last three years. 
 It is quite time he began to make money in some way 
 or other." 
 
 " I will not touch a dime of such money. 
 I will not, if I know it, madam." 
 
 " It is so easy to be ignorant when one wants to be 
 ignorant. I dare say you will find a way to touch it 
 without sinning." 
 
 " I will play no tricks with my conscience.. I will 
 try and manage the plantation to better purpose. I 
 came to ask you to help me. When father and John 
 were away I did very well with the Preston ranch. 
 Every one says you made Briffault pay. Please, 
 madam, assist me with your advice ; then I think I 
 can manage it." 
 
RAY'S LEGACY. 177 
 
 " Now you talk sensibly. I respect a woman who 
 is mistress of herself. What is the use of crying 
 when you have a pair of hands ? Tears only poison 
 life. There is at least a living in the old land, and 
 the garden and dairy and poultry ought to be better 
 looked after. But you can do nothing without Kay's 
 authority. When he returns from this trip get it, 
 then I will tell you what to do." 
 
 Madam's co-operation was necessary in order to pre- 
 vent her opposition, and Cassia felt the h'rst success- 
 ful step to her project had been taken ; for though a 
 person may not have much power to help, they may 
 have power to do a great deal of injury ; and madam, 
 though she pretended entire seclusion, still contrived 
 to make her influence felt in every part of the house- 
 hold arrangements. Unfortunately for Cassia, John 
 was not at home to advise her. He had entered into 
 some new plan for preserving fresh beef, and the in- 
 terests of the concern took him frequently to the gulf 
 coast, and not unfreqnently very far west, in order to 
 buy cattle for the purpose. 
 
 So Cassia passed the days as contentedly as she 
 could with her children. From prayer she gathered 
 hope, and they who live in hope breathe the sweet air 
 of futurity. As near as it was possible, she also en- 
 deavored to reach the goal of an existence in which 
 
 she would speak much oftener to God than to the 
 12 
 
178 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 world ; for she had already apprehended that life's 
 great secret of peace is to avoid the feverish contact of 
 mankind. 
 
 As for Hay, he was at this time very happy. The 
 life upon which he had entered had all the charm of 
 novelty. He exercised an absolute power over his 
 small company ; there was just danger enough to sup- 
 ply a pleasant excitement, and at the forts he met 
 several old acquaintances. The sales were unusually 
 good ; he very nearly realized all that Dacre had an- 
 ticipated. And, as he was returning with such a 
 large sum of money, he had an escort from a cavalry 
 company until he met a body of " rangers," who again 
 rode with him until he reached the settlements. So 
 there were pleasant trials of speed in the cool morn- 
 ings, and merry "noonings" and "campings," with 
 their plentiful, rough meals, and their sense of liberty 
 and good-fellowship. Ray's previous ideas of life 
 were thoroughly unsettled, and he looked back upon 
 the prosaic business of planting corn and cotton as in- 
 tolerably stupid and monotonous. 
 
 On his return he was quite willing to resign the 
 care of the plantation to Cassia and madam. He had 
 great faith in madam's abilities ; and he felt that he 
 had fully done his duty when he insisted that if any 
 emergency arose he should be appealed to and allowed 
 to meet it. But Cassia was determined such emer- 
 
RAY'S LEGACY. 179 
 
 gencies should never come ; she would keep the ex- 
 penses far below their usual level, and she would 
 refuse every luxury of food, dress, or appointments 
 which the income from the plantation did not war- 
 rant. In Dick Ratcliffe's money neither herself nor 
 her children should have part or portion. She refused 
 to take any interest in its success ; she would not ask 
 Ray about it, nor care either as to its investments, its 
 losses, or its gains. 
 
 She had, however, assumed a very difficult task. 
 The servants, conscious that Ray was not at home, 
 nor likely to interfere with them if he was at home, 
 robbed and wronged her. She was compelled, in 
 sheer self-defense, to be constantly changing " hands," 
 and for this very reason got an ill name she by no 
 means deserved. Madam could give her excellent 
 advice, but she could not insure its carrying out. In 
 her own days of management the code for mistress 
 and servant had been a simple and effective one 
 " Do this," and it was done ; " Go yonder," and they 
 went. Things had quite changed. Servants now 
 obeyed orders at their own time and will, and they 
 went where they were sent, if it fell in with their 
 own wish to go. 
 
 As time passed on, she often felt the pinch of that 
 cruel poverty which must be borne and concealed. 
 She had to work hard, to save at every corner, and 
 
180 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 yet to borrow frequently from John. Her self-denial 
 did not seem to have been as blessed as she had hoped 
 it would have been. Often she was tempted to say, 
 u In vain have I washed my hands in innocency." She 
 had had such bright dreams of almost impossible suc- 
 cess. She thought she would prove to Eay that, in 
 the end, the path of virtue was the path of profit as 
 well as the path of happiness. But three years had 
 passed away, and the results had all been of that kind 
 which make labor most depressing. No great calam- 
 ity had swept away her increase, but she thought she 
 could almost have borne calamity better than the nig- 
 gardly results which just, with constant worry, pre- 
 vented her toil being a failure. 
 
 And she was conscious that Ray's life was, as re- 
 garded herself, a greater failure than her own. His 
 quiet gentlemanly manners had gradually been lost 
 in those of the bravo. The latter character had been 
 at first assumed, but it is easy to play a bad part 
 until it becomes a natural one. And the worst feat- 
 ure of the change in Ray was, that the deluded man 
 approved it. He looked back with a shrug of 
 annoyance to the days of his dreaming leisure, his 
 desultory intellectual efforts, his placid domestic joys, 
 and his occasional weekly sacrifice with his family to 
 the duty of Sabbath worship. And it is true enough 
 they had been days of mere negative goodness ; but 
 
HAY'S LEGACY. 181 
 
 O, how much more hopeful and innocent than those 
 which followed! For he had learned to drink, and 
 his easily-earned dollars rang readily on saloon coun- 
 ters ; and when he was flush of money it was a part 
 of gambling honor to play deeply. This hard life of 
 toil and excess, alternating with mental excitement, 
 soon told disastrously upon him, both physically and 
 morally. 
 
 Every time he returned home the change was 
 more apparent. Sometimes his absences were short ; 
 sometimes they extended over weeks, perhaps 
 months. But, however long he stayed away, he was 
 quite certain of finding Dacre and Jennings arid the 
 little hunchback at their usual place, in what had 
 been Ratcliffe's bar. The tie between these men 
 and Raymund Briffault had been, from the first, a cir- 
 cumstantial one. It had arisen out of the accident 
 of their having money to invest at the same time, 
 rather than from any personal sympathy. At first 
 Dacre and Jennings had been proud of their associa- 
 tion with Briffault, and inclined to defer to him in 
 all things ; but the deterioration of his character dis- 
 pleased them. They grew suspicious of his integrity, 
 for it is a queer fact that no class of men resent dis- 
 honor or dishonesty toward themselves more bitterly 
 than thieves and gamblers do. So the alliance, which 
 had been found at Ratcliffe's death, broke up at the 
 
182 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 end of the third year, and was finally dissolved with 
 much hard feeling and many bitter words. 
 
 Raymund had handled a great deal of money 
 during these three years ; but he had also squan- 
 dered a great deal, and he was very little richer 
 now than when the partnership was formed. He 
 claimed twenty-two thousand dollars, but Dacre 
 so reluctantly allowed the claim, that Ray became 
 suspicious of some secret ill-deed ; and he caught 
 one glance of Dacro's eyes, so vindictive and hate- 
 ful, that he resolved to go to New Orleans until his 
 anger wore itself away. It was September when 
 he went ; it was the following February when he 
 returned. Men do not become altogether wicked all 
 at once ; Ray had still many passing good impulses. 
 But good impulses are of little value, unless they 
 crystallize into good actions ; and though Ray's heart 
 often softened to the thought of his children, and of 
 their mother praying with them, the thought brought 
 forth no good fruit. On the night of his return 
 from l\"ew Orleans he came unexpectedly into just 
 such a scene. Cassia rose from her knees, the tears 
 still wet on her cheeks, to welcome him. He could 
 no more doubt the truth of her piety than he could 
 doubt her delight in his return. He kissed the 
 tears tenderly away, and his heart filled, as he bent 
 over his innocent children. 
 
RAY'S LEGACY. 183 
 
 Then there was a little festival made. Madam, in 
 her distant room, heard the unusual voice and move- 
 ment, and the faint echoes of Cassia's voice in its 
 happy inflections. After awhile Ray went to see 
 madam. There were changes of which she was, 
 perhaps, unconscious, but which he noted instantly. 
 The room, as usual, was brilliantly lighted, but 
 Josepha had never been able to give it the same air 
 of antique and stately sumptuousness which distin- 
 guished it during Souda's oversight. Madam, also, 
 was a little less carelessly dressed. An Indian shawl, 
 of magnificent coloring, covered the sofa on which 
 she reclined, but her garments were altogether black, 
 and against them the pallor of her face and her 
 snow-white hair were very remarkable. She was 
 much thinner, but her black eyes were as bright as 
 ever, and Ray was pained and struck by their expres- 
 sion, it was so anxious and restless. He remembered 
 that he had once before seen just such a look in the 
 eyes of a little child who had lost herself on the wharf 
 at New Orleans. There was the ocean before her, 
 the shouting and confusion of men and horses and 
 wagons upon all sides, and she had looked into Ray's 
 face with the same anguished inquiry, the same fear 
 and anxiety and pathetic grief. Perhaps, had he 
 cared to analyze the circumstances, he might have 
 found the reason of the similarity. Before madam 
 
184 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 lay the great ocean of eternity. All around her 
 pressed memories of shame and sin and sorrow. 
 They were crowding her to the very brink of the 
 unknown. Her soul was shivering and fearing, and, 
 with a pathetic entreaty, looking through the only 
 gratings of its fleshly prison-house for some friend 
 strong enough to give help or comfort. 
 
 She hoped nothing from Raymund, however. His 
 conduct had disappointed and humiliated her. She 
 noticed, at once, that he had grown coarser in ap- 
 pearance, and was more carelessly dressed. 
 
 " I am sorry to see you, Ray," she said ; " you are 
 looking much worse. A man may be bad without 
 becoming vulgar. Look at your great-grandfather. 
 Every man of your family dressed like a gentleman. 
 It is the next thing to behaving like one." 
 
 " Pardon me, madam. I am just off a long j ourney ." 
 
 "And I thought Cassia was going to make you re- 
 spectable and pious. It is a poor family that has 
 not one saint in it. Cassia has failed, I see." 
 
 The conversation was taking an unpleasant turn. 
 Ray excused himself, and left the miserable old 
 voman ; but at the door she recalled him. 
 
 " Do you go into Galveston soon ? " 
 
 " To-morrow." 
 
 " Call upon Souda ; tell her to come and see me." 
 
 Ray had lost most of his money in New Orleans, 
 
KAY'S LEGACY. 185 
 
 he wanted to borrow some, and he could think of no 
 one so likely to oblige him as Dacre. For he had for- 
 gotten the hard words that had passed between them, 
 and he judged that Dacre would have also done the 
 same. There was a wet norther blowing, and he 
 shivered as he passed hurriedly along the deserted 
 streets of Galveston and out of them over the deso- 
 late sea-shore. He did not meet a soul on his way to 
 Ratcllffe's ; but as he pushed aside the door the fa- 
 miliar rattle of the dice fell upon his ear. At Dacre's 
 old table, however, only strangers were sitting. He 
 glanced at them, and then went up to the bar, where 
 the same man, a little redder-eyed, handed him, with- 
 out a word, a bottle and a glass. Eay nodded his 
 head backward, and asked, 
 
 "Where are they?" 
 
 " Gone." 
 
 "All of them?" 
 
 " The same thing. Teddy, the hunchback, lost his 
 last copper, went outside, and we found him hanging 
 from the beam in the horse-shed. Jennings bought 
 him a coffin ; might easy won a thousand from him." 
 
 " Jennings ? Where is he ? " 
 
 "Dacre shot him. They got into a dispute one 
 night somehow pistols went off promiscuous like. 
 Jennings fell dead. It was an accident, but Dacre 
 lost his head after it ; he's clean crazy." 
 
1S6 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " Where is he ? " 
 
 " Behind you. He's quiet enough, and Slatey says, 
 'Let him alone,' says he. ' He don't harm any one, 
 and he wont stay away.' " 
 
 Kay turned as the man spoke. Dacre sat on a ,ow 
 cowhide chair, his arms upon his knees, his restless 
 twitching hands shuffling unceasingly a lot of dirty 
 cards. His eyes were sunken, his large nose abnor- 
 mally prominent, his lips constantly moving and mut- 
 tering. Ray spoke to him. He took no notice of 
 him whatever. 
 
 " Give him something to eat and drink. That's all 
 he cares for, now." 
 
 The man offered him a plate of crackers and a 
 bottle. Dacre seized them, and eat and drank vora- 
 ciously, but with a mere animal instinct, and without 
 intelligence or appreciation. This was dementia the 
 death of the soul. The wretched man could digest, 
 and he could not think. 
 
 " The doctor says it's fright ; that's nonsense. He 
 had lost all his money ; Jennings had cleaned him 
 out, too." 
 
 But Ray did not wait to hear the explanation. 
 Dacre terrified him. He went quickly out of the 
 place ; and for days he could not rid himself of the 
 hcrror which this terrible living apparition had 
 given him. 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 187 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 THE MAN AT THE GATE. 
 
 :t A cold wind blows out of the starry North 
 
 Strange doors stand wide, 
 And hidden things, and things long past, come forth 
 
 And will not be denied. 
 Though some be terrible and sad to face, 
 And the heart mourneth stricken in her place." 
 
 " A heavenly thing for us, as well as for him we love, 
 
 To have one so dear in glory set at the King's right hand above." 
 
 FIFTY years before this date Burke Briffault had 
 built, far down the island, a sea-side residence for 
 the three hot months. It had then been quite isolated 
 in its little nest of myrtles and oleanders, but the city 
 had gradually crept up to it, and even beyond it, and 
 for a long time it had been falling to decay. "When 
 madam's first anger at Souda's defection was over, she 
 remembered the place, and gave her permission to 
 occupy it. Then the fences and blinds were repaired, 
 and Souda's deft hands trained and trimmed the shrubs 
 and vines, and made the empty, desolate rooms clean 
 and comfortable. They were, as she had determined 
 they should be, a " home " for the sick and indigent 
 
188 THE LOST SILVER OF BBIFFAULT. 
 
 of the old Briffault servants. She had no trouble with 
 them. When they came to her they were sick or in 
 want, and their habit of obedience was still upon 
 them. Sou da had been a woman of great importance 
 always in their eyes, and they continued to pay her a 
 respect, not unmingled with a little wholesome fear. 
 On the bitterly cold morning, which was marked by 
 Raymund's visit to Ratcliffe's old bar, Souda's house 
 was very much crowded, but Jane had the chair she 
 had been promised the comfortable, soft chair in the 
 warmest corner, by the big wood fire. Her blue, 
 homespun dress was clean and tidy, her turban white 
 as snow, and the little woolen shawl, pinned across her 
 breast, was of the gayest colors. She sat in the pleas- 
 ant warmth braiding corn shucks into straw, often 
 letting the pretty work fall to her knee, in order to 
 converse more freely with an old negress by her side, 
 who was evidently a stranger, and a sick and sorrow- 
 ful one. They were telling each other of the trials 
 they had been through, and perhaps Jane was not as 
 thoughtful as she might have been, but Souda never 
 complained, or interrupted her. At length they be- 
 gan to sing, softly patting their feet and hands to the 
 mournful little melody, so full of miserable memories : 
 
 " ' 0, nobody knows de trouble I've seen 1 
 Nobody knows but Jesus 1 
 yes, Lord 1 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 18D 
 
 Sometimes Fm up, sometimes I'm down, 
 
 yes, Lord ! 
 Sometimes I'm way down on de groun' 1 
 
 Oyes, Lordl'" 
 
 Souda was ironing. She stood at her board amonp; 
 the drift of snowy linen, and listened. Tall and 
 black and strong, and wearing a turban of many 
 colors, and a large white apron, she was an ideal 
 picture of her people. Her face was at first somber ; 
 it was hard to read her thoughts ; she knew not her- 
 self which feeling in her heart predominated sorrow, 
 pity, perhaps a dash of anger. She was glad when 
 they began to sing, for a negress is never far off com- 
 fort when she can raise a "spiritual." Souda let 
 them finish their complaint, joining herself, in the 
 last lingering line : 
 
 "'Oyes, Lord!'" 
 
 but as soon as it was finished she set them a nobler 
 strain. Clear and strong, her voice rose up, as a 
 lark's singing at the gate of heaven : 
 
 " ' Dore's a better day comin', don't you git weary! 
 Bettor day a-comin', don't you git weary! 
 
 D-re's a great camp-meetin' in de Promised Landl 
 chip your hand, chillen, don't git weary ; 
 
 Dere's a great earnp-meetin' in de Promised Land. 
 pat your foot, chillen, don't git weary, 
 
 Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de Promised Land. 
 
190 THE LOST SILVER OF BIUFFAULT. 
 
 Gwine to live wid God forever I 
 Live wid God forever! 
 Dere's a great camp-meet in', 
 A great camp-meetin', 
 In de Promised Land ! ' " 
 
 Her foot patted the wooden floor, her iron gave em- 
 phasis to her favorite words ; on the hearth the old 
 women clapped their old withered hands, and from 
 the upper rooms several voices took up the chorus. In 
 the middle of this happy hubbub Raymund knocked 
 at the door with the handle of his riding-whip. 
 Souda welcomed him gladly, and he was thankful to 
 go to the hearth and feel the cheering warmth, for 
 a Texas norther sends a chill to the heart. As he 
 stood there, booted and spurred, with his long cavalry 
 cloak over his shoulders, and his whip in his hand, 
 Souda was proud of her old master. " Mighty hand- 
 some fambly de Briffaults," she thought, complacent- 
 ly ; and when Kay said to Jane, " Sit down, Jane, sit 
 down, you have earned the right to sit;" she added, 
 mentally, u all ob dem gentlemen eben to a poor ole 
 nigger woman." 
 
 " How am de madam, Mass' Ray?" she asked. 
 
 " She wants to see you, Souda. That is why 1 
 called." 
 
 " Jist as soon as de norther is ober I'll go to 
 Briffault." 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 101 
 
 "Can I do any thing to help you, Souda? I dare 
 say you have a house full. " 
 
 " Got four of de ole men, sar, and three of de 
 women, and a lot of de young ones running in and 
 out." 
 
 " Suppose I send you a few loads of wood ? I ought 
 to help, you know." 
 
 " I'll be mighty thankful, Mass' Kay ; I will, fur 
 sure ! " 
 
 " Do you know where John Preston is \ " 
 
 " Not jist now. He'll be here to-morrow night, 
 fur de class-meetin', sar." 
 
 " O ! Well, good-bye, Souda." 
 
 He put a couple of dollars in Jane's hand, and 
 went out again into the " norther." He felt wretched, 
 and every thing lie saw seemed to add to his sense 
 of the incongruity of the world in which he found 
 himself. And that awful phantom of the Dacre he 
 had known ! He could not rid himself of the memory 
 of it. He rode back home at a hard gallop ; he 
 wanted to talk the tragedy over with Cassia. And 
 when he had told her, he took out his pocket-book, 
 and laid thirty dollars and some silver coins upon the 
 table before him. 
 
 " Cassia, that is all now left of Ratcliffe's money. 
 He was thirty years making it ; it is very little more 
 than three years since it was divided. Jennings got 
 
192 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 possession of two thirds, but he was killed in the 
 moment. Nobody knows who he is. They have 
 advertised for his heirs, but they will never be found. 
 Dacre is worse than dead. I am bankrupt. It does 
 not seem to have been a lucky pile." 
 
 Cassia's face was full of love only. She was not 
 angry nor astonished, nor even a little triumphant 
 over the fulfillment of her prophecy of evil ending 
 to such evilly earned money. 
 
 " Never mind the past, Ray ; it has been a great 
 mistake, dear, but you can redeem it in the future," 
 she said, pleasantly. " The land is still yours, and 
 the home ; surely there is a living to be made here 
 yet." 
 
 " A very poor one. You have done as well as I 
 ever shall with the place. I can see how shabby the 
 house is getting ; every- where it shows the want of 
 ready money. We used to have so many servants. 
 I have noticed how their number has dwindled away. 
 I think we must sell Briffault and go into the city." 
 
 But madam would not hear of selling Briffault. 
 She had a claim upon it, and she would not relinquish 
 her hold as long as she lived. So Ray wandered 
 about the dreary rooms thoroughly hopeless and mis- 
 erable ; and if any women need special prayers put up 
 in their behalf it is the wives of men who are idle, 
 and who loaf, fretful and dissatisfied, about their 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 193 
 
 homes. In a very short time every thing annoyed 
 Raymund. The children were troublesome ; the baby's 
 cries made him nervous ; Cassia's never-ceasing indus- 
 try reproached him. She had at this time many bit- 
 ter hours, for it was not only that no joy came to her, 
 but that the blessings she had were robbed of all their 
 sweetness by Ray's constant complaining. A little 
 money in the house keeps men and women innocent 
 and good-humored ; the want of it is a far greater 
 and more dangerous want than we admit. And when 
 once Poverty has put his foot within the threshold it 
 is astonishing how soon his decaying finger touches 
 all within the house. 
 
 When Souda paid the visit to madam she had prom- 
 ised, there was something sad in the meeting of the 
 two women. Souda's new life had developed all the 
 latent strength and vitality of her nature ; she gave 
 the sensation of an ample being. Madam had been 
 losing hold of life ; she was already wandering within 
 the mists of the unknown shore to which she was 
 going. It was pitiful to see how she clung to Souda ; 
 how, forgetting all but her own great need of human 
 kindness, she leaned upon her arm and breast, and 
 drew down her large, bright face, and kissed it. She 
 sent Josepha away, that she might talk freely with 
 the one friend left her. 
 
 For the few hours they were together Souda tried 
 13 
 
194 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 to renew the past for the woman who lived only in it. 
 She made her the cream chocolate she loved, and 
 brought it, with dainty strips of lightly browned bread. 
 But when she went to the small ebony buffet for the 
 rich cake and guava jelly that had always been kept 
 there, madam said, sadly : 
 
 " There is nothing of that kind left, Souda ; we 
 have been getting poorer every week, I think. Well, 
 well ! one may do without cake and guava ; but love, 
 that is different, Souda ! " 
 
 She spoke bitterly of Raymund's folly ; she blamed 
 Cassia for not exercising more influence over him ; 
 the tears filled her eyes at Gloria's name. In Souda's 
 arms all her pride gave way for an hour or two ; she 
 acknowledged that she was forlorn and weary, and 
 hungry for some heart to lean upon. Had she known 
 it, this feeling of intolerable severance from affection 
 was the one hopeful sign for her future. It is those 
 hearts which, when love fails, create for themselves a 
 quiet, narrow existence, self-conscious, self-contem- 
 plating, self-satisfied, that are terrible and hopeless in 
 their egotism. The supreme misfortune of the soul 
 is that it should be mutilated in all its senses, and be 
 content to own itself better off so. But with madam 
 this was not the case. Beneath the snows of age 
 love glowed. ~No one she had ever loved was forgot- 
 ten. Though she seemed merely a pale shadow lost 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 195 
 
 amid a new generation, below the surface there were 
 tears, hopes, the whole vast world of a human heart. 
 
 It was in such tender mood madam lay that day and 
 talked to Souda of her husband and her dead children, 
 and of the two grandchildren, who had both disap- 
 pointed her. She was on her sofa, and Souda sat on 
 the floor at her side. Sometimes they were quite si- 
 lent, and then madam's hand sought Souda's hand, 
 and she felt a great sense of comfort in the firm clasp 
 or the tender kiss which met it. Souda was thinking, 
 thinking, thinking how was she to lead this poor, 
 desolate, sorrowful soul back to the Father's home K 
 She began by telling her of her own work. Madam 
 remembered well all the slaves she had ever owned. 
 Most of them had been back to Souda for help of 
 some kind. Many of them had led strange lives and 
 seen wonderful things since they dwelt at Briffault. 
 It was easy to interest madam. She listened with 
 profound emotion to many a pitiful story, to many a 
 marvelous deliverance. She suffered Souda to speak 
 of God's interference and agency without scorn and 
 without interruption. At last she said : 
 
 " I must leave you now, Miss Selina, but I'll come 
 again soon; whenever you want me, Fse allays got 
 a day fur to gibe you." 
 
 " Miss Selina ! " The name had slipped from 
 Souda's lips unawares. In the days when madam was 
 
196 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 young and lovely, when she ruled absolutely in Brif- 
 fault, before her father-in-law and her husband died, 
 madam had been " Miss Selina." It was like a voice 
 from the dead. She covered her face with her thin, 
 wasted hands ; and when Souda knelt down by her 
 side and said, " I'se awful sorry I spoke de words ; 
 dey kind ob slipped from me, dey did, indeed," she 
 saw that madam was weeping bitterly. 
 
 " I kaint say de fust word ob comfort, madam ; but 
 O jist let me read only three verses to you. I'se read 
 jist de three what God gives me. I wont know my- 
 self what dey is gwine to be ; " and, as madam an- 
 swered neither " yes " nor " no," Souda took her 
 silence for consent, and, drawing a little Testament 
 from her pocket and opening it at a venture, read : 
 
 " ' Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, 
 if she lose one piece, doth not light a candle, and 
 sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it ? 
 And when she hath found it, she calleth her friends 
 and her neighbors together, saying, Rejoice with me ; 
 for I have found the piece which I had lost. Like- 
 wise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of 
 the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.' ' 
 
 " Thank you, Souda ! I have heard the words 
 often. Did I ever tell you that my father was a 
 preacher a Methodist preacher, Souda ! But I have 
 been lost so long, so long," she muttered, more to her- 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 197 
 
 self than to Sonda, " the image and superscription is 
 trodden quite away not even He would seek or know 
 me for his own now." 
 
 " De Lord is gwine to seek ebery bit ob de lost 
 Briffault silver ; dar wont be one piece ob it git be- 
 yond his eye or de reach ob his hand. Bless de Lord ! 
 You'se got kinfolk in heaven praying fur you. Dey 
 will be right on de altar steps, holdin' on to de Lord's 
 pierced feet. Think he's gwine to turn dem away ? 
 Madam knows better dan dat. And I'se mighty glad 
 to know 'bout your father, de preacher, madam ; 'kase 
 when I pray now I'll think 'bout him saying de 
 ' Amens ! ' to de prayer, eben close up to de mercy- 
 seat." 
 
 Then some fine spiritual instinct told Souda that 
 the limit of confidence had been reached. She bid 
 madam " good-night," and, full of hope and prayer, 
 began her dark and lonely ride. Madam did not ring 
 for Josepha. She did not even encourage little Mary 
 to remain with her. For the first time in many a year 
 the idea of solitude was pleasant to her. She had 
 spoken of her father, and she could not put away the 
 image she had called back to her. She remembered 
 him standing in the small pulpit, with his blue eyes 
 uplifted, and his white hair flowing a little backward. 
 She remembered his quaint black clothes and white 
 neckerchief, his hands clasping the hymn book, and 
 
198 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 his lips parted with the holy words upon them. The 
 small chapel, with its white walls and bare seats, the 
 poplar-trees blowing softly at the open windows ev- 
 ery detail, even to the whistling of a passing boy, 
 came back to her. 
 
 And O, there are secret communings with the 
 loved departed, which any human sympathy would 
 profane ! Words of affection said too late ; entreat- 
 ies for pardon, secret confidences, no one but God 
 may hear! Under this new emotion madam was 
 very restless. She walked to the window and looked 
 out into the starlit night. The avenue was bare and 
 brown, but through the tossing leafless branches one 
 great white star shone with a wonderful splendor. 
 It touched another memory one still farther back. 
 She gave herself up awhile to the past ; suffered it to 
 lead her in old paths, and talk to her of things long 
 forgotten. In this reverie time passed quickly ; nine 
 o'clock struck, and she dropped the curtain she had 
 lifted, and. with a little shiver, turned toward the fire. 
 
 When she was half-way across the room a move- 
 ment of the door-handle arrested her attention. There 
 was no noise, but the handle turned, and she stood still 
 and speechless, watching it. In a moment the door 
 was pushed softly open and Gloria entered. She 
 came in with her finger upon her lips, and a gesture 
 that was an entreaty for silence. Madam was unable 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 199 
 
 to speak or move, she stood quite still, and the girl 
 knelt down at her feet, and took her hands, and 
 whispered, with stifled sobs : 
 
 " I have run away from him. O save me, grand- 
 ma ! " 
 
 " Lock the door." 
 
 In an instant she was the madam Gloria had al- 
 ways known. She had taken in at a glance her 
 granddaughter's wretched condition : her dress poor 
 and shabby, and unfit for the season ; her appearance 
 of ill-health and trouble and exhaustion. She was 
 shivering and untidy, and she looked ten years older. 
 
 " Where have you come from, child ? " She could 
 not refuse her sympathy ; her pity conquered her 
 anger. 
 
 " From the Kio Grande all by myself. I had a 
 little money at first ; then I begged a ride from sta- 
 tion to station ; people were very kind to me." 
 
 " Begged a ride ! Why did you not write for 
 money ? Ray will never forgive you." 
 
 " I have written and written ; there was no answer. 
 I was hopeless and desperate. Nobody took any 
 notice of my letters. I have been treated very cru- 
 elly, I think." 
 
 " Don't forget how badly you yourself behaved, 
 miss. Now tell me the truth before I call Ray. 
 Why did you leave your husband ? " 
 
200 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 " He ill-used me, he swore at me, lie beat me, and 
 even starved me. He did all he could to make me 
 die. O, grandma, look here, and here, and here," 
 and she uncovered her pretty arms and neck and 
 showed the marks of the brutality she had borne. 
 Then every trace of madam's softer mood fled. 
 
 " Why did you not kill him ? " she asked, contempt- 
 uously ; " I would at the first blow." 
 
 "I was afraid." 
 
 Madam looked at the pale woman crouching over 
 the fire, and felt a tinge of contempt for her. 
 
 " Well, now that you have left him, what will you 
 do ? Will you stay here with me ? " 
 
 " I dare not. Denis will follow me ; not because 
 he loves me, but because he hates me, and hates 
 Ray ; and then there would be a fight and a murder. 
 I want some of my clothes, and some money, and I 
 will go away ; go to New Orleans, or New York, 
 and teach, or sew, or do any thing I can do for a 
 living. O, grandma ! dear, dear grandma, help me ! 
 Can't you help me ? " 
 
 " Has any one here seen you ? " 
 
 " No one. I loitered in the swamp until dark ; 
 then I easily found my way up stairs to my old 
 room. The key was in the door. I lay down upon 
 the bed and fell asleep, I was so tired ; then when I 
 awoke I came here to you. I opened the door 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 201 
 
 slowly, because I feared Josepha might be present. 
 I am very hungry, grandma." 
 
 " Poor child ! Go into my dressing-room. I will 
 ring for coffee and bread. I can get nothing else 
 at this hour without arousing suspicion or remarks.'' 
 
 When it was brought Gloria ate eagerly, telling 
 the while a story of bitter and shameful ill-usage. 
 
 " The very soldiers pitied and helped me to 
 escape," she said. 
 
 Their whispered confidence lasted far through the 
 night ; and again madam emptied her jewel drawers 
 for the unhappy woman ; for her store of gold was 
 barely sufficient to pay traveling expenses to New 
 York. 
 
 It was agreed that Gloria should rest in her room 
 until madam sent for Souda. Souda's horse would 
 carry both back to Galveston ; and from there the 
 wretched runaway could take train or steamer, and 
 soon escape beyond the power of her husband's or 
 her brother's anger. For a few days there was little 
 fear of her presence being discovered ; for her room 
 was seldom visited, and she knew so well the hours 
 and the ways of the house. Even in her trouble, 
 Gloria took a kind of pleasure in planning how to 
 provide for her own comforts and necessities un- 
 known to Ray and Cassia. 
 
 The truth was, madam needed time to consider. 
 
202 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 Her first impulse had been to help Gloria to escape ; 
 but as soon as she was left to unbiased reflection, she 
 perceived that she had acted with unwise precipi- 
 tancy. It was not at all certain that Captain Grady 
 would come to Briffault. It was evidently the right 
 thing to take Raymund into their confidence and 
 counsels ; and during their conversation, on the fol- 
 lowing day, madam endeavored to persuade Gloria 
 to see her brother. At first Gloria refused, but per- 
 ceiving madam to be very much in earnest, she 
 agreed to do so, as soon as she was a little recovered 
 from the effects of her hard journey, and had altered 
 one of her old dresses to fit her shrunken figure. 
 
 Gloria, however, did not like the prospect of things 
 before her at Briffault. She knew that Ray would 
 insist upon her remaining under his protection, and 
 that he would consider absolute seclusion a necessary 
 act of propriety. She imagined his dark, disapprov- 
 ing face ; she thought of Cassia ; she thought of the 
 poverty madam had spoken of; she thought of the 
 services she would expect from her ; altogether, the 
 life she would have to lead appalled her. She con- 
 gratulated herself that she had secured tangible help 
 from madam in the first hours of her fright and 
 sympathy ; and the next day, after she had taken tea 
 with her grandmother, she went out again into the 
 world, this time quite alone. 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 203 
 
 She had told madam she was going to her room to 
 sleep for an hour or two, and at first madam believed 
 her. But ere long she remembered a peculiar ex- 
 pression on Gloria's face as they drank their tea 
 together : it was but a transient gleam in the eyes 
 that she had intercepted, but it roused in her an un- 
 happy suspicion. She could not put it away, and she 
 went, with trembling steps, to Gloria's room. The 
 room was dark she expected that ; but when she 
 closed the door, and called her softly, there was no 
 response, and her heart turned sick. " Yet the child 
 might be asleep." She felt her way to the bed, and 
 passed her hand over the pillows. There was a litter 
 of clothing on them ; nothing else. She had a match 
 in her hand ; she struck it, and the small flickering 
 light showed her what she had already felt, that the 
 room was empty. 
 
 "There will, of course, be a note," she said, bit- 
 terly, and on the toilet table she found it. 
 
 " DEAR GRANDMA : I cannot, and I will not meet 
 Ray and Cassia. If I can make a living, I will let 
 you know ; if not, one can always die, and I would 
 rather be at the bottom of the sea than in Denis 
 Grady's power again. You are the only one who 
 loves me. I am sorry to go away from you. Thank 
 you, grandma, for your kindness to me." 
 
204 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 The last lines had a ring of truth in them. They 
 touched madam to the heart. She had but one 
 thought : " the wayward girl must be sought and 
 brought home." 
 
 She sent at once for Ray ; she was determined to 
 tell him all, and insist upon his following his sister. 
 If he hastened to Galveston it would be easy to watch 
 every train and steamer, and so detain her. It was 
 even possible to overtake her on the road, for she 
 must walk to WauPs Station. But Eay was not at 
 home. He had gone to Galveston during the after- 
 noon, and there was no certainty about his return. 
 Then madam offered Josepha five dollars to ride into 
 Galveston, and look for her master ; but Josepha de- 
 clared " she couldn't ride at black night." The cook 
 was of the same persuasion, " specially as Mass' Ray's 
 horses all ob dem got de debil in 'um." The only 
 man servant had left the place at sundown. But 
 the difficulties of the pursuit only roused in madam 
 a stronger determination to accomplish it. Every 
 moment of delay increased, in her eyes, the terrible 
 necessity of the case. 
 
 She imagined Gloria flying on foot through the 
 swamp, becoming weary and hopeless, and, in a mo- 
 ment of despair, fulfilling her threat. The idea took 
 possession of her, as fright will a child ; she could 
 not endure it, she went at length to Cassia for help. 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 205 
 
 Cassia sat before the fire in her bedroom, nursing 
 her baby, a boy of ten months old. When madam 
 entered she lifted a face white as snow, and full of 
 anxiety and trouble. 
 
 " He is very ill," she said, softly. " O, I wish Ray 
 was at home ! and the doctor ought to have been here 
 ere this." 
 
 Madam stood by the child and looked down at 
 him. The baby face was hot and crimson, the 
 breathing labored, the tiny hands tightly clenched. 
 
 " He is teething and has a fever ; there is nothing 
 to fear, nothing unusual," she said. 
 
 Then she told her in rapid, earnest tones, Gloria's 
 sad story; perhaps, unconsciously, she exaggerated 
 the girl's fright and despair ; at any rate, she made 
 Cassia feel with her that a human life depended upon 
 their individual exertions to save it. And in Cassia's 
 heart the fear was blent with one still more solemn 
 " the unrepentant, unpardoned soul ! What must 
 she do to prevent any catastrophe which would send 
 it unprepared to meet its God ? " 
 
 She looked at madam in terror. 
 
 " What is to be done ? Will Josepha or Cora go ? 
 Where is Steve?" 
 
 " Steve went away at sundown ; neither Cora nor 
 Josepha will go. Cassia, there is no one but you to 
 save the poor unhappy girl ! Yon are a good rider ; 
 
THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 you are not afraid. Kay will come back with you. 
 Do you know where to find him ? " 
 
 Alas ! yes. She knew that he would be at his fa- 
 vorite hotel. She knew that it was the billiard-table, 
 or the euchre pack, that had drawn him away from 
 his sick child and his home. She had no fear of the 
 ride. But her baby ! how could she leave him ? 
 
 " I have had such a feeling of coming sorrow," she 
 said, pitifully ; " and this afternoon, as I sat sewing be- 
 side his cradle, there was a knock at the door such a 
 singular knock, madam as if one brought an order. 
 I rose instantly and opened the door. There was no 
 one there, I mean no one whom I could see ; but my 
 heart turned sick, and I went back to the cradle, and 
 fell down weeping beside my child. I cannot leave 
 him ! I cannot leave him ! I am afraid to leave him ! " 
 
 "You are the soul of selfishness. Is there no 
 6 coming sorrow ' but your sorrow ? Might not the 
 ' order ' be for Gloria, as well as for your baby ? I 
 will myself attend to the child. Josepha shall nurse 
 him in my room. I shall not sleep until your return. 
 The matter rests with you now. If Gloria runs into 
 sin or shame, or takes her own life, I shall always 
 blame you, unless you try to save her. If I had been 
 younger I would not have asked you; you never 
 liked Gloria, never did any thing to make home 
 happy for her." 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 207 
 
 " Madam, you know that is unkind ; yes, it is un- 
 just ! I have spoiled my own happiness to add to 
 hers often. But I will not defend myself. God 
 knows. And I will go for Ray. Perhaps even I 
 may overtake her. Ray will be angry with me, but 
 that must not prevent a duty ; and O, madam, my 
 baby ! my sick baby ! I leave him in your care ! I 
 will pray for him all the time, but you must watch, 
 and do your best for the poor little fellow." 
 
 "I am the child's mother three times over. Do 
 you think you are the only person who loves him ? 
 Had I been in your place he should have had a phy- 
 sician before this hour." 
 
 "He has grown so much worse since sundown. 
 Ray promised to call at the doctor's as he went into 
 town ; but he did not think the child was very sick. 
 Perhaps he forgot, or made it a thing of little 
 importance." 
 
 " We are wasting time. Bring the child to my 
 room. I will see no harm comes to him." 
 
 Weeping bitterly, she did so. Over and over she 
 kissed the hot little face, and her heart seemed as if 
 it would break as she turned away from it. While 
 Cora saddled a horse, she put on her habit, and as her 
 fingers buttoned it round her, the tears fell in an un- 
 restrained and bitter rain. 
 
 "Dear God, help me! O take care of my sick 
 
208 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 child ! It is so bard ! 1 cannot do it unless thon 
 help me ! " 
 
 With such broken entreaties she dressed for 
 her lonely ride; but as soon as she had given her 
 horse the rein she thought of nothing but reaching 
 her destination as rapidly as possible. 
 
 Yet, on the way, she watched constantly for any 
 human figure that might be Gloria, but she saw none. 
 When she reached Galveston the city was all astir. 
 The sounds of music and singing and light talk 
 rippled through the clear, crisp air. In many houses 
 the blinds were undrawn, and fair women, dressed in 
 festal white and fresh flowers, were listening, with 
 happy faces, to the light or loving words of friends 
 or lovers. They were as figures in a dream to her, 
 a sad frightsome dream, in which she fled from some 
 terror, and had no one to help or comfort her. 
 
 Suddenly, upon a more lonesome street, she came 
 to a church. It was lit, the only lighted building 
 near ; she checked her horse and stood before it, for 
 the solemn, triumphant strains of " Duke Street " fell 
 upon her ear, and well she knew the four grand lines 
 of Charles Wesley's they were singing to them : 
 
 " 'I rest beneath the Almighty's shade, 
 My griefs expire, my troubles cease ; 
 
 Thou, Lord, on whom my soul is stayed, 
 Will keep me still in perfect peace.' " 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 209 
 
 " My God!" she whispered, " I will speak to thee 
 for one moment ; no one loses time by prayer. In 
 thy holy temple thou wilt surely hear and bless me." 
 
 She slipped from her saddle, fastened the animal, 
 and, drawing her veil closely, entered the building. 
 The singing ceased at that moment, and the preacher 
 rose. He was an old man, with an aspect serious and 
 serene, and he lifted up his hands, and with a solemn 
 gladness said : 
 
 "Go in peace; and the grace of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the 
 Holy Spirit, be with you all evermore. Amen!" 
 
 What more did Cassia want? She felt that she 
 had been blessed. She had no more fear of what 
 Raymund would say. She could leave her darling 
 in the charge of God's angel. She went on her way 
 unspeakably comforted and strengthened. As she 
 approached the hotel she saw a Negro man, whom 
 she knew, leaning against a lamp post. She spoke 
 to him, and he looked at her with amazement. 
 
 "Miss Cassia, I 'clar to goodness! It aint you, 
 surely, Miss Cassia ? " 
 
 " It is, Daniel. My child is very sick, and I want 
 to see Master Ray. He is in the hotel ; go and find 
 him, and say a lady wishes to speak to him." 
 
 " Name your name, Miss Cassia ? " 
 
 " Better not, Daniel." 
 14 
 
210 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 In about five minutes she saw Raj coming. Be- 
 fore she could speak he knew her, and he asked, 
 sharply : 
 
 "What nonsense is this, Cassia? Do you think 
 such heroic virtue will frighten me into staying at 
 home?" 
 
 " You are mistaken, Kay dear. Gloria has been 
 home and gone again. She is in great trouble, and 
 madam is afraid she will take her own life. Also, 
 little Paul is very ill, very ill, indeed, I fear." 
 
 " Then, why did you leave him ? Was that a 
 motherly thing to do ? As for Gloria, she made her 
 own bed, and she can lie on it, though it be at the 
 bottom of the sea." 
 
 He had sent Daniel for his horse, and he spoke no 
 more until it came. It was a hard, wretched ride 
 home. They mistook the crossing of one of the 
 larger bayous, the water was deep and dangerous; 
 but Ray was not in a mood to turn or to alter his 
 course for any thing. Wet to the waist, and faint 
 with exhaustion, Cassia pursued her journey. But 
 her patience finally touched his willful heart. 
 
 " I have been cross and unkind, Cassia," he said ; 
 " but I am so annoyed about this folly of Gloria's. 
 If Grady comes after her I shall certainly thrash 
 him, and the result will be a fight. If he does not 
 come, there is the constant worry and anxiety about 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 211 
 
 her fate. We shall never know when she is going to 
 do some outrageous thing that will put us all in every 
 newspaper, far and near. In fact, I don't see how we 
 are to keep things quiet at all. Some one will be 
 sure to see her. She is imprudence itself. I de- 
 spise a woman who leaves her husband for any cause ! r ' 
 " Grady used her shamefully." 
 " 1 said, for any cause, and I mean it." 
 " He struck her, Ray ! Cruelly struck her." 
 " Bah ! Parents strike children, and love them all 
 the time. I have seen Gloria in moods when a man 
 must be a saint not to strike her. Husband? can't 
 bear every thing." 
 
 "A man cannot strike a woman and respect her 
 after the blow. A woman cannot respect a man who 
 strikes her." 
 
 He did not answer, and as they were nearing home, 
 they rode forward silently and very swiftly. Cassia 
 was reeling with exhaustion when Ray lifted her 
 from her saddle. She stopped at the bucket and 
 gourd and drank a deep draught of water. Then 
 she opened the closed door. There was a strange 
 stillness in the house, and only a small lamp burning 
 at the foot of the stairs a stillness she had never 
 before felt, a solemn chill, that smote her to the heart. 
 She almost crept up stairs. Her wet habit dragged 
 her down, she clung to the balusters, and climbed 
 
212 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 painfully, step by step. She meant to go quickly to 
 madam's room, but as she passed her own she saw 
 that the door stood open. Then she was aware that 
 it was from this room that that strange cold stillness 
 came, and she went into it. The fire was quite out, 
 the windows all open, every thing spotlessly white and 
 cold and quiet. Her own bed was like a snow-drift, 
 and so was little Paul's cradle beyond it. 
 
 Already divining what sorrow waited for her, she 
 went, like one in a maze, to the tiny bed. Mothers ! 
 Mothers ! You can tell how she knelt down beside 
 it, and kissed the clay-cold face and the small folded 
 hands, and moaned like one whom God could never- 
 more comfort. Raymnnd had been obliged to take 
 the horses to the stable himself, and he did not enter 
 the house for ten minutes after Cassia. He was not 
 sensitive to any new influence in it; he came up 
 stairs grumbling at the whole household being in bed, 
 and no supper ready for him. But Cassia's lament- 
 ing brought him face to face with his sorrow, and it 
 was a real sorrow to Raymund. He loved his little 
 son passionately. He was his own image, his first- 
 born son, a bright, promising boy, exceptionally 
 lovely and loving, as angel children always are. No 
 trouble, no heart-pain, half so hard to bear, had ever 
 before came to him. 
 
 But when the first paroxysm of his anguish was 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 213 
 
 over, it was succeeded by a kind of anger. He took 
 Cassia's hand, and said, "Come, we must speak to 
 madam about it. If there has been any neglect, I 
 will never forgive her." Their hearts were hard 
 toward the old woman as they trod the long, dim cor- 
 ridor leading to her room. But when they saw her, 
 they had nothing to say. She lay prostrate upon 
 her bed, her hands covering her face. 
 
 " I did my best," she murmured, in low, cold tones ; 
 "he went into a spasm an hour after Cassia left. 
 It was hard to get hot water. Josepha was half- 
 crazed and useless. I did all I could. The struggle 
 was a short one." 
 
 Ray looked sternly at her, but Cassia felt the agony 
 whose very intensity gave it an appearance of in- 
 difference. 
 
 " Thank you, madam, I know you did your best, 
 did all that it was possible to do," she said. But O, 
 the loneliness and heart-ache that followed! Ray, 
 gloomy, resentful, speechless, sat by his dead son all 
 night; but Cassia's physical exhaustion gave her a 
 short respite from the intense sorrow of the first 
 hours of bereavement. 
 
 When Death visits a house he leaves behind him a 
 little hush. For a few days after all is over the wheels 
 of daily toil run slowly, the wounded hearts take 
 breath and dry their tears a. little, and comfort each 
 
THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 other as well as they can, before they pursue their 
 journey. They were sad days at B riff an It. The 
 children played in whispers ; the house had a lonely 
 feeling ; the atmosphere of grief was in every room. 
 Madam was haughty, almost resentful still in her 
 sorrow. She did not name the child, and when Kay 
 visited her their talk was of Gloria. He smiled in- 
 credulously at the idea of suicide. " Gloria loves 
 herself too much ; and why did she provide means for 
 travel and for life if she meant to die ? " he asked. 
 But he agreed to go to New Orleans and look for 
 her, and he was the more inclined to do this because 
 of the restless pain which the loss of his child had 
 left in his heart. For, alas ! he did not carry his 
 sorrow to God ; he tried rather to subdue it by that 
 practical stoicism which says to itself, " What is 
 finished is finished. The dead are dead. I must 
 make the best of it." 
 
 After he was gone Briffault had almost the air of 
 a house shut up. There seemed to be a shadow even 
 in the sunshine which fell round it the shadow of 
 itself. Early in the morning, late at sundown, often 
 in the middle of the day, Cassia's feet trod the road 
 to that lonely little yard within the myrtle hedge, 
 where she had once found Gloria weeping. There 
 are people who cannot understand this prolonged 
 sorrow ; even very good people, who say to a broken- 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 215 
 
 hearted mother, " God does all for the best. You 
 should believe this, and rejoice that your child is 
 safe." On the contrary, God wills that we should 
 weep. If the child was sweet and precious, and his 
 gift, we cannot but weep when it is taken away. 
 When God smites he wishes us to feel ; but if we 
 sink prostrate at his feet for the blow, there comes 
 with it that penetrating sweetness of love which is in 
 itself a joy. 
 
 We weep, but we weep in hope. God has not left 
 us without glad intelligence of our dead. We can 
 turn our eyes to the land where they dwell. The 
 land exists ; it is no poet's dream, no prophet's rapt- 
 ure. The simplest see it the clearest. Cassia longed 
 much for John at this time, but John was in Arizona ; 
 and after all it was best that she and Christ should 
 bear the trial alone ; for it is when we go, 
 
 "With trembling heart through days of sorest loss, 
 His smile is sweetest, and his love most dear; 
 And only heaven is better, than to walk 
 With Christ at midnight over sorrow's sea." 
 
 And though Cassia suffered, madam, sitting alone 
 amid her fading splendor, suffered, perhaps, more. 
 There are in these days young people who are old 
 they are indifferent, skeptical, weary as a traveler at 
 night-fall but madam was young in spite of her 
 years. She loved, she suffered, she willed, as she had 
 
216 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 always done. Her eyes, which represented her nobler 
 part, were as limpid and as full of intelligence as 
 they were at twenty. She was one of those women 
 who at a hundred would go young to the grave. She 
 made no complaints, asked for no sympathy, ex- 
 hibited no emotion; but upon her countenance, there 
 was the impress of an intense woe, a mixture of de- 
 fiance and despair, very pitiful. In some natures 
 sorrow runs into motion ; madam's took this form. 
 Occasionally she sat still looking straight before her, 
 like one who has made up her mind to suffer and 
 show no sign of it ; but for the most part she walked 
 restlessly about. Josepha wondered how she could 
 bear it. 
 
 One night, about two months after Ray had left 
 for New Orleans, there was every sign of a thunder 
 storm. It had been one of those torrid days that are 
 sometimes dropped into the heart of spring. The 
 very swamp birds were faint with heat, and the whole 
 sky was red and lowering. Madam was highly elec- 
 trical, and painfully sensitive to such storms. As 
 the evening closed in she could not rest a moment. 
 She set wide open the door of her room, and longed for 
 little Mary's company. But the child was nervous 
 and fevered, and not inclined to leave her mother. 
 It grew dark and oppressive ; Josepha lit the lamps, 
 and sat down in a corner of the room, and went to 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 217 
 
 sleep. Madam did not like to awaken her, yet she 
 felt an overpowering desire for some human society. 
 She went into the corridor, and walked slowly up 
 and down, listening to the murmur of Cassia's and 
 Mary's voices, as she approached their room nearer 
 and nearer. The door stood open to admit any air that 
 might be stirring, and ere long madam heard the mo- 
 notonous movement of a rocking-chair. Little Mary 
 was in her night-gown upon her mother's knee, and 
 Cassia was trying to soothe the nervous, irritable child. 
 " Sing me i The Man at the Gate,' mamma." 
 Now Cassia knew well that madam was walking in 
 the corridor. It had become a very usual thing for 
 her to do so during the long, lonely evenings ; and 
 Cassia had taken pains to prevent any notice of the 
 circumstance, lest it might drive the forlorn old wom- 
 an back to a still greater solitude. So she was glad 
 when Mary asked for this loveliest of spiritual ballads, 
 and to its wild, sweet melody, she sang the touching 
 words : 
 
 " ' In summer and winter, in calm and storm, 
 When the morning dawns and the night falls late, 
 
 We may see, if we will, the steadfast form 
 Of the Man that watches beside the gate. 
 
 " ' I saw the stars of the morning wait 
 
 On their lofty towers to watch the land, 
 As a little child stole up to the gate 
 
 And knocked with a tiny, trembling hand : 
 
218 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 " ' u I am only a little child, dear Lord, 
 And my feet are stained already with sin ; 
 
 But they said you had sent the children word 
 To come to the gate and enter in." 
 
 " ' The Man at the gate looked up and smiled 
 
 A heavenly smile, and fair to see, 
 And he opened, and bent to the pleading child, 
 
 " I am willing with all my heart ! " said he. 
 
 " ' I looked again, and the wintry blast 
 Was hurrying wildly o'er land and sea ; 
 
 The glory of spring-time was long gone past, 
 
 And the branches were bare on the trembling tree., 
 
 " ' Yet still at the gate the Saviour stood, 
 And his face was lifted serene and fair, 
 
 Though his raiment was heavy and red with blood, 
 And the crown of thorns showed dark on his hair. 
 
 " ' It was afternoon, and the sun was low, 
 And the troubled winds sobbed long and loud, 
 
 As an old man tottered across the snow 
 Which wrapt the earth in a bitter shroud. 
 
 " ' " Thou that watchest beside the gate ! 
 
 Had I come to thee in the days gone by 
 Thou hadst received me ; but now too late 
 
 I lay me down on thy threshold to die. 
 
 " '" I have fought and finished an evil fight, 
 I have earned the deadly wages of sin ; 
 
 It is hard to die in the snow to-night, 
 But no man is willing to take me in." 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. '210 
 
 " ' The sun was low in the changing west, 
 
 The shadows heavy from hill to tree, 
 As the Watchman opened the gate of rest, 
 
 " I am willing with all my heart ! " said he. 
 
 " 'At midnight there came the voice of one 
 Who had crept to the gate through the blinding snow, 
 
 And who moaned at the gate as one undone 
 Might moan at the sight of the last dread woe. 
 
 " ' A woman's voice, and it rose and fell 
 On the muffled wings of the snowy night, 
 
 With a trembling knocking which seemed to tell 
 Of one who was chilled and spent outright. 
 
 4i j wove ti ie crown for the Brow divine, 
 I pierced the hand that was stretched to save; 
 
 I dare not pray that the light may shine 
 To show me the prints of the nails I drave. 
 
 " ' " I beat this night on my sinful breast, 
 
 I dare not pray him to succor me ! " 
 But the Watchman opened the gate of rest, 
 
 " I am willing with all my heart! " said he. 
 
 " ' Thus day and night they are pressing nigh, 
 With tears and sighs to the heavenly gate, 
 
 Where the Watchman stands in his majesty, 
 
 With a patience which has never said, " Too Zafc." * " 
 
 Cassia put her soul into every line. She thought 
 of the listener outside, and in her heart there was a 
 prayer to the Man at the gate for her. The sweet 
 
220 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 little melody rose and fell with a monotony that was 
 charmf ul and full of rest. At length it stopped alto- 
 gether only the creak of the rocker was heard. 
 There was a tap at the door, and Cassia rose with the 
 child in her arms. Madam was standing on the 
 threshold. 
 
 " How is Mary ? I feared she had fever this after- 
 noon." 
 
 Mary lifted her drowsy head. " Come in, grand- 
 ma." 
 
 And Cassia said, " Come in and rest, the night 
 is so hot and close." 
 
 " You were singing ? " 
 
 " I was singing Mary to sleep." 
 
 " I heard you a sweet, wild tune. Do not stop ; 
 I like it." 
 
 She sat down, and little Mary put out her hand. 
 Madam clasped it in her own, and Cassia sang the 
 solemn ballad over again ; sang it very simply, care- 
 fully avoiding an emphasis or inflection which might 
 appear like application ; for God had given her this 
 great wisdom, to know when to speak and when to 
 forbear. At the last line she pointed out the sleeping 
 child. Her small fingers were tightly clasping her 
 grandmother's. Madam looked pleased, so did Cas- 
 sia ; the two women caught each other's smile. When 
 the fingers were loosened the child was laid to rest, 
 
THE MAN AT THE GATE. 221 
 
 and madam made as if she would go away ; but Cas- 
 sia said : 
 
 " The storm is just breaking. It will be a very bad 
 one. Stay here beside me." 
 
 She drew her sofa a little forward and put a pil- 
 low on it, and helped madam to dispose herself as she 
 wished. Then the two women sat silent ; for the 
 noise of the thunder and of the wind and of the swash- 
 ing and beating of the rain made conversation im- 
 possible. And in the very height of the elemental 
 uproar there came the wild gallop of a terrified horse 
 up the avenue. 
 
 " It is Ray," said Cassia, starting up. " Do not 
 move, madam, he will be glad to meet you at 
 
 once." 
 
 In a little while Ray came in, drenched and weary, 
 but with a face full of love and pleasure. He fol- 
 lowed Cassia up stairs, laughing at the gallop he had 
 had, and saying : 
 
 " O, how sweet it is to see you again, Cassia ! O, 
 how sweet it is to be at home again ! I have such 
 good news 1 " 
 
 He was surprised at madam's presence, but glad 
 also, and he added, as he kissed her : 
 
 " You remember me speaking of Jonas Sterne ? 
 I have gone into partnership with him. An excellent 
 thing 1 I am really fortunate I " 
 
222 . THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 Madam rose hastily. She looked at Kay, laid 
 her hand upon his arm, and, in a trembling voice 
 asked: 
 
 " Gloria? What of your sister, Ray ? Have you 
 seen her ? Heard of her ? " 
 
 But Ray's face darkened, and he answered, very 
 sternly : 
 
 " I have heard nothing of her." 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 223 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
 " From Thyself direct 
 
 Thy secret comes to all, whom thou shalt deem 
 Worthy to find it. Councils, doctors, priests, 
 Are but the signs that point us to the spring 
 Whence flow thy living waters." 
 
 " Hast thou nursed a sin ? confess it ; 
 Hast thou done a wrong ? redress it." 
 
 IT is a sad thing to explore the affections and 
 hopes, and to say of them all, u What do they 
 profit?" When madam, in answer to her question 
 about Gloria, received Ray's reply, " I heard nothing 
 of her," something like this feeling chilled her soul. 
 She went away without asking any thing about his 
 new partner. It seemed to her, indeed, as if no 
 earthly thing was worth a question. But Ray was 
 enthusiastic over his prospects, and Cassia was glad 
 that she could sympathize with him. Sterne was 
 not an entire stranger ; Ray had met him three years 
 previously, while he was exploring the State of 
 Texas, with a view to a final settlement in it ; and 
 when Ray went to New Orleans, in search of his run- 
 
224- THE LOST SILVER OF BEIFFAULT. 
 
 away sister, their acquaintance was resumed. Sterne 
 was then ready to make the change he had been con- 
 templating, and, in accordance with Ray's advice, had 
 fixed upon Waul's Station as the scene of his future 
 accumulations. 
 
 The village, however, though growing very fast, 
 was too small to justify the employment of all his 
 capital in dry goods, and the residue he proposed 
 to invest in horse or cattle trading. Sterne was to 
 supply the money ;' Ray , to give his knowledge of 
 stock, and of the markets where they could be best 
 bought and sold. One of the stipulations of the con- 
 tract between Sterne and Briffault was, that the 
 latter should never touch a card, nor make a bet on 
 any transaction ; and Ray, recalling the end of Dacre 
 and his companions, felt sure that the promise would 
 not be hard to keep. 
 
 For two years affairs went on with an average sat- 
 isfaction, and Cassia was very happy. No woman, 
 with growing boys and girls, is insensible to the 
 value of money. For herself, she may be willing to 
 do without it ; for her children, she desires all the 
 good things it can procure ; and besides, she was 
 glad to let the household burden, borne so long and 
 so cheerfully, slip from her shoulders a little. But 
 after two years there began to be a change. The 
 first trouble was caused by a little cur belonging to 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 225 
 
 Sterne. One of the Briffault children stoned it ; and 
 Louis Sterne, a lad of ten years old, made the quarrel 
 his own. No one needs to be told that children can 
 foment the bitterest hatreds; that, in the main, their 
 innocence and inoffensiveness is a poetic tradition. 
 The majority of children prove the doctrine of orig- 
 inal sin ; they have all the malicious dislikes of 
 adults, without their reason and prudence, and as 
 assailants can be far more aggravating. 
 
 The quarrel between the children had not existed 
 long when Mrs. Sterne called upon Cassia about it. 
 In her eagerness she called an hour too soon. Cassia 
 had a nervous headache, she was disturbed in her 
 siesta, and had to go down stairs to her visitor after 
 a hurried and unsatisfactory toilet. The visit was an 
 unpleasant one ; Cassia's reserve and politeness pre- 
 vented any thing like a quarrel, but the offense was 
 really deepened instead of explained away. Mrs. 
 Sterne made her husband feel with her the real 
 or the imaginary slights she had suffered. Sterne 
 had his own experiences to put to hers ; and when 
 the women and children of two families are at en- 
 mity, it is almost impossible for the men to remain 
 long neutral. Ray perceived that the end was com- 
 ing between himself and Sterne, and he was not 
 sorry ; the unfathomable meanness of the man's char- 
 acter, his jealousy and suspicions, had become hard 
 15 
 
226 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 to tolerate. He was only anxious to find some way 
 of carrying on the business he had built up, when 
 Sterne's money should be withdrawn. 
 
 One night he camped in the same grove with the 
 sutlers of two cavalry companies who were going to 
 San Antonio for stores. After supper the men took 
 out a pack of cards, and were soon gambling desper- 
 ately. Ray's heart throbbed, his face paled and 
 flushed, and his hands were almost beyond control. 
 Crib, an old Negro who had followed Bay in all his 
 wanderings, and who knew all his weakness, watched 
 the struggle with a sinking heart. 
 
 "Mass 5 Ray! Mass' Ray! prevention am de best 
 bridle fur sin don't look at 'em." But Ray gazed 
 at the cards as if fascinated, and trembled all over 
 with excitement. " Lie down under de tree, Mass' 
 Ray ; when de door am shut, de giant kin knock, and 
 knock, and you kin keep him out; but ef you let 
 him jist git his finger in, den 'fore de mornin', he'll 
 hab you bound hand and foot. Fur de Lord's sake, 
 come 'way, Mass' Ray ! " 
 
 Only God takes account of the temptations we re- 
 sist. It cost Ray a great effort to turn away, but he 
 did so. Ere Crib slept that night he lifted his head, 
 and saw his master pleasantly smoking under a great 
 live oak. The watch were slowly patrolling the cat- 
 tle, and the sutlers, sitting in a patch of bright moon- 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 227 
 
 light, were silently shuffling their cards. "With a 
 prayer on his lips for " ehery body in de who!' world," 
 Crib rolled his head in his blanket, and went to sleep. 
 When he awoke the cattle were beginning to move, 
 the moon had set, but the sun had not risen, and in 
 that pallid misty light which precedes the dawn the 
 gamblers were still busy. Alas! alas! there were 
 three of them. 
 
 The old man rose and went about his work. It 
 was too late to say another word then. He made his 
 master's coffee, and very soon the camps broke up. 
 One went east, the other west ; but that day all Crib's 
 duties were very hard to him. He was angry with 
 himself because he had not been able to resist sleep, 
 and watch one night with the man whom he knew 
 to have been in sore temptation. 
 
 " Jist my word might hab turned the scale," he 
 thought, remorsefully ; u I'se allays blamed de 'ciples 
 fur not watchin' wid de Lord ; but I'se been jist as no 
 'count myself." 
 
 He observed Ray from a distance, and perceived 
 that he had been winning. 
 
 " De debil mighty smart dese days," he muttered, 
 as he moved about among his cooking utensils ; " he 
 done gib up, ragin' roun' 'bout, like a lion, and tak- 
 in' folks' prop'ty 'way from dem. When he wants 
 to git a man sure, now, he jist helps him shuffle de 
 
THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 money into his pockets widout working a lick fur 
 it ; dat fetches him ebery time ! Losin' chillen and 
 cattle, and habbing boils and a pervokin' wife, dat's 
 all foolishness now ! Men aint gwine to curse God 
 and die 'bout such fings as dem ; but gib a man 
 plenty of money, what he neber earned, and Satan 
 knows he is gwine to flaunt it on de very widest 
 road to hell he kin find out." 
 
 All that summer the feeling of dislike and sus- 
 picion between Raymund and Sterne deepened, until 
 the men became personally hateful to each other. 
 And mean as Sterne really was, he had his adherents ; 
 one of whom was among the drovers. This man 
 had fully reported Ray's relapse into gambling, and 
 Sterne was only waiting until a lucrative government 
 contract had been filled to dissolve a partnership, of 
 which one of the chief obligations had been broken. 
 
 One morning, in November, it seemed to him that 
 the time had come. The day previous some one had 
 dropped a few words about Gloria's position a few 
 wicked words which declared little, but insinuated 
 a great deal ; and Sterne had one of those small souls 
 which can revenge a business grievance by an allu- 
 sion to a man's domestic affairs. Ray's aristocratic 
 nonchalant ways had long wounded his self-esteem ; 
 he looked forward with pleasure to the humiliating 
 blow he meant to deal him. 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 229 
 
 As it happened, Ray was that morning accompa- 
 nied by John Preston. He entered the store in his 
 up-head way, booted, spurred, and armed ; and the 
 bowing, conciliating store-keeper felt his very ap- 
 pearance an insult. There was really nothing offen- 
 sive in Ray's manner of tilting his chair, and flinging 
 his riding- whip on the floor ; but Sterne fancied there 
 was. 
 
 " He acts as if my store was his own," he thought ; 
 and the merry laugh with which some remark of 
 Ray's was greeted by the men assembled round the 
 stove was the last thing he could endure. 
 
 " I think we had better understand one another, 
 Mister Briffault. You haf been gambling again. 
 You haf broke your word to me. I will not do any 
 more piziness with you." 
 
 Ray looked up with flashing eyes, but went on with 
 the incident he was relating. 
 
 " You hear me, sir ; you hear me fery well, Mis- 
 ter Briffault. You haf been gambling again." 
 
 " Sterne, I'll attend to you just now when I get 
 ready." 
 
 " When you get ready fery well ! Till then you 
 will leaf my store. You are no shentleman, sir ! " 
 
 " Be quiet, Sterne. What do you know about gen- 
 tlemen ? " 
 
 "You are no shentlemau, sir; no, you are not; 
 
230 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 and your sister is we all know fery well what 
 she is." 
 
 The words were scarce uttered when the store was 
 in a tumult. Eay, with a passionate exclamation, in- 
 stantly drew his revolver, but his arms were as rap- 
 idly seized by two strong men at his side, and, strug- 
 gling and swearing, he was forced out of the store. 
 To the amazement of every one, John Preston lifted 
 the quarrel. He had been standing beside some bar- 
 rels of flour which he wished to purchase, but he 
 strode quickly to the counter, and, looking Sterne in- 
 flexibly in the face, said : 
 
 " Don't move an inch, sir ! Take back every word 
 you said about Mrs. Grady." 
 
 " I wass told, Mr. Preston." 
 
 " Take the words back, sharp ! I am not going to 
 wait on you." 
 
 " It iss not my fault. I wass told " 
 
 " It is your fault. You knew your insinuation was 
 a lie. When a man lies away a woman's good name 
 he is a scoundrel." He stooped and lifted Bay's rid- 
 ing-whip. " I give you one minute longer. Take 
 your evil words home ! " 
 
 " I will take them home efery one of them Mr. 
 Preston. I meant nothing wrong to the lady." 
 
 " Say, ' I know nothing wrong of the lady.' >: 
 
 " ' I know nothing wrong of the lady.' ' : 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 231 
 
 " Very well ; see you say nothing wrong of her ; 
 not so much as the lifting of an eyelid. I tell you 
 the horsewhip was meant for liars and slanderers, 
 and, if you earn it, you shall have it ! I prom- 
 ise you that. These gentlemen will tell yon that 
 John Preston keeps his word." 
 
 And, amid a murmur of assent, John flung the 
 whip down on the counter in front of Sterne, and then 
 walked out of the store. 
 
 This scene ended all relations between Kay and 
 Sterne. The settlement of affairs between them was 
 intrusted to a lawyer and John Preston, and Sterne 
 complained that he had been badly used, and in so 
 much terror that he had scarcely dared to take his 
 own. But, according to Sterne's accounts, one thou- 
 sand dollars was all that could be claimed for Ray, 
 and he was sure this sum was not half of his due. 
 These were sad days for Cassia. She foresaw trouble, 
 and no end of care and temptation for her husband. 
 For Eay would not hear of resigning the business 
 he had built up. He intended to get money from 
 some one, and he thought it would be easy to do. 
 
 But he found borrowing an impossibility. Men 
 who had cash knew of safer investments. Sterne, 
 being a trader, had made the alliance pay in several 
 directions ; mere capitalists could not do this. Be- 
 sides, there was an indefinable fear of Eay ; his gam- 
 
232 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 bling propensities were known ; men from whom he 
 expected both sympathy and assistance looked upon 
 all his proposals with disfavor and discouragement. 
 He was forced to resume his operations without suffi- 
 cient money to make them profitable. 
 
 One day, after a year's worrying efforts to keep 
 his business together, he was in San Antonio. He 
 wanted a thousand dollars, and he had only one hun- 
 dred. After a moment's hesitation he turned into a 
 gambling saloon, flung his hundred dollars down, and 
 doubled them. Again and again and again he haz- 
 arded his all, and every time he won. When he left 
 the place he had nearly two thousand dollars in his 
 pocket. But he was too late for the trade he had 
 been playing for, and he hung around the city wait- 
 ing for another. He soon met with some horses for 
 which three thousand dollars was asked. He was 
 anxious to buy, the man was anxious to sell. 
 
 " I'll tell you what, Briffault," he said, u pay the 
 half now, and give me your note for the balance in a 
 month. You will have sold the horses by that time, 
 and can easily meet the bill." 
 
 This seemed an excellent method to Kaymund, and 
 for awhile it worked very well ; but, really, it was a 
 great misfortune to the sanguine, speculative man, for 
 henceforward he was willing to buy any drove, how- 
 ever large or valuable, upon such terms. And then 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 233 
 
 one day a great temptation came to him. The seller 
 of a fine cavallard would not take Ray's name alone. 
 He proposed to get John Preston's name also, and 
 the offer was satisfactory. But John was not to be 
 ;ound, and Ray wrote his name for hhfi. As it hap- 
 pened, all went well ; the note was lifted without 
 trouble. He did the same thing again, with the same 
 result ; he did it again, and failed. Then he had to 
 ride night and day for nearly a week, and, tottering 
 with exhaustion, to throw himself upon John's mercy. 
 
 " Seven hundred dollars is a big sum, but I'll pay 
 it," said John, with a stern face. " Thinking of Cas- 
 sia and the children, I'll pay it ; but O, Ray ! Ray ! 
 how dare you gamble with shame and dishonor and a 
 felon's cell ? for this kind of business is gambling 
 nothing better." 
 
 "I'll never do such a thing again. God is my 
 witness." 
 
 " If you are telling a lie, don't ask God to be wit- 
 ness to it." 
 
 John was much shocked. He was unable at the 
 hour to even discuss the circumstances of the sin. 
 They did not part pleasantly, and, somehow, Ray felt 
 id if he was the injured party. " Such a fuss to make 
 about a few hundred dollars ! " Ray was sure that 
 he would have met a crisis of the kind with far more 
 generosity. 
 
23-1 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 During this interval madam had been going rap- 
 idly down the slope which leads to the shoal of life. 
 Gloria's second desertion marked a point from which 
 it was all descent afterward. Little by little her rest- 
 lessness left her, and she was content to lie upon her 
 couch in the sunlight or the firelight. And O, what 
 did she think of during the long hours of her night 
 session with the sleepy Josepha ? In the day-time 
 some of the children were generally with her ; all 
 their little joys and sorrows were carried to " grand- 
 ma." But still her heart clung with a faithful affec- 
 tion to her lost Gloria. 
 
 "Poor, weak, foolish Gloria!" she would say to 
 Cassia, with whom only she could discuss her longing 
 and her fears. 
 
 One day she sent a letter to John Preston. " Come 
 and see me," she wrote. " I should like to speak to 
 you before I go away." 
 
 The message pleased John. He had some business 
 to do, but he let it wait and went at once to see 
 madam. He had not met her since the days when 
 he had wandered in the garden with Gloria, and had 
 almost feared the passionate hatred with which she 
 watched his love. She was no longer a woman to be 
 feared. He looked at her with a great compas- 
 sion. She seemed to have shrunken away, and was so 
 frail that she gave him the idea of transparency as 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 235 
 
 if the shadow of flesh was illumined by the spirit 
 within. 
 
 " John Preston," she said, as she stretched out her 
 hands to him, " will you do me a great favor ?" 
 
 " If I can, I will." 
 
 " Go and seek Gloria." 
 
 " Ah, I cannot do that yet. I have no right to 
 seek the wife of another man." 
 
 " You might save her." 
 
 " It is not permitted us to do evil that good may 
 come. But if ever Gloria is left alone I promise you 
 to seek her, though I go the world over." 
 
 " John, I am sorry." 
 
 She did not say what for ; but John understood 
 the pathos in her sad eyes and the movement of her 
 thin hands toward him. He touched them with his 
 lips and answered, gently : 
 
 " For all that is past there is pardon. In our blind- 
 ness we err, but plenteonsness of mercy and forgive- 
 ness is with God." 
 
 " I was thinking of you and Gloria." 
 
 " God will put it all right, madam." 
 
 " You will forgive her when you find her ? " 
 
 u Every thing every thing ! I will forgive her 
 freely." 
 
 " Thank you, John." 
 
 Then he spoke to her very gently of her own weak- 
 
236 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 ness, and of the change which could not be very far 
 off from her. She listened, but as one a little weary 
 listens. 
 
 " I know that I am dying, John. "When all is still 
 at night I can hear the roar of billows on a dark 
 shore. No, I do not pray. I turned my back on 
 God more than sixty years ago. It would be mean 
 to offer him my allegiance again now with the very 
 dregs of a rebellious life. Do you think I would for- 
 give a child who wronged and shamed me all her 
 years, and then when she was dying, and had no more 
 power to sin against me, said, i Forgive me V " 
 
 " Yes, I think you would. If Gloria came to you 
 at the last hour and said, * Forgive me, 1 would you 
 turn her away ? No ; you would kiss the sorrowful 
 one and say, 4 Dear child, be comforted. I love you ! ' 
 Is not your heavenly Father much better than you 
 are? 
 
 " ' He bendeth low from his holy hill- 
 Searching the shadows gray and chill 
 
 And calling us alway; 
 And clear, through the angel-singing, ' 
 
 "What time the sons of God 
 Shout loud, for joy upspringing, 
 
 Till all the heavens are bowed. 
 He hears the faintest sighing 
 
 Of some poor, far-off soul, 
 "Who turns to look to the holy place 
 
 While the billows round him roll.' 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 237 
 
 He calls you now. "What is sixty or seventy years 
 in that eternity throughout which the redeemed shall 
 do his pleasure ? Thinking of its infinity, can you 
 not see that the Master might easily give the full 
 penny even to those who are hired at the eleventh 
 hour might even count their faith for righteousness, 
 since the love and service of eternal years are for the 
 redemption of the promise made by that one hour and 
 that one penny ? " 
 
 She was quite weary, and looked like one at the 
 point of death. John gave her a draught of water, 
 and called Josepha. Then he bid her good-bye, 
 and asked : 
 
 " Shall I come again ? " 
 
 " Yes, as often as you can ; and, John, what about 
 Ray ? I am afraid he is doing badly. He is Gloria's 
 brother ; you will remember that ? " 
 
 " He is also my brother. As far as it is possible I 
 am his keeper ; and where I cannot reach him prayer 
 can." 
 
 That winter Ray was mostly in San Antonio. 
 There were the fandangoes, and the races and balls, 
 and the " chances," both in cards and cattle, in which 
 he delighted. Both in trade and in play he was sin- 
 gularly fortunate, and never had life seemed so pleas- 
 ant and hopeful to him. When the spring opened he 
 was in circumstances to take advantage of any prom- 
 
238 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 ising speculation ; and even the most skeptical of his 
 acquaintances began to think there must be some na- 
 tive ability in so fortunate a man. Yet his operations 
 in cattle, in cotton, in land, were in all their elements 
 as much allied to gambling as if they had been ma- 
 nipulated with the dice. He delighted in taking enor- 
 mous risks for the sake of enormous profits, and the 
 charm of a trade to Raymund Briffault was just this 
 daring, speculative, gambling element. 
 
 He was now nearly forty years old, and a very dif- 
 ferent man, in all respects, from the slim, unsunned, 
 dawdling youth who had taken a hand, out of simple 
 politeness, in Ratcliffe's last game. Sunbrowned, 
 rough in manner, with a hand ever ready for a pistol 
 or a card, and a knowledge of the cattle business of 
 the West which brought him a very positive respect 
 and a large income, Raymund Briffault seemed to the 
 majority a very happy and successful man. 
 
 One evening he was riding westward with a driver 
 and a Mexican. The rest of the party were in ad- 
 vance, he having stayed behind to finish the trade for 
 a fine mare which the Mexican was leading. He 
 hoped to reach the camp before dark, but, being ten 
 miles distant at sundown, he ordered a rest under a 
 little grove of cotton-wood trees. They were near the 
 entrance to the Apache Mountains two long, low 
 spurs, inclosing a narrow valley full of rank, tawny 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 239 
 
 grass. There was a full moon and a few large stars 
 in the sky, and every- where the strong, sweet scent of 
 bleaching grass. After a cup of coffee the men sat 
 down to smoke. A dead silence prevailed a silence 
 so profound that the insects moving in the grass 
 could be heard. It was an hour when men who had 
 any thoughts beyond horses and gold might have fan- 
 cied angels passing through the still, fair land, and 
 have almost expected to see them. 
 
 Suddenly Ray noticed a small square of something 
 white in the very center of the trunk of a large cot- 
 ton-wood tree. It looked like a notice nailed up 
 there, and might be some word which the advance 
 party had left, either of warning or direction. lie 
 pointed it out to the drover, arid sent him for it. 
 The man came back evidently puzzled, turning the 
 piece of paper over and over in his hands, as peo- 
 ple do a letter whose superscription is unknown to 
 them. With an oath of impatience Ray asked its 
 meaning. 
 
 " Derned if I can tell, cap ; " and he read aloud, in a 
 slow lumbering voice, as he walked, " ' What shall 
 it profit a man if he gain the whole world 
 and lose his own soul ? ' ' What shall a man 
 give in exchange for his soul ? ' ! 
 
 This poor heathen in a Christian country had never 
 heard the words before, and they struck him with a 
 
240 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 force which hearts dulled by thoughtless iteration 
 have no conception of. He handed the paper to 
 Raymund and sat down without a word. It was 
 only a little leaflet with the two awful questions 
 printed in large letters upon it. Some good man, 
 resting there, had nailed it to the tree ere he left his 
 camp, trusting to the Master of assemblies to fasten 
 its inquiries surely in some impenitent, thoughtless 
 soul. 
 
 Ray was annoyed and troubled. The words, falling 
 one by one from the lips of such an unlikely mes- 
 senger, came as unexpectedly and as forceful as if 
 some angel had let them fall from mid-air. He had 
 heard them often before, but never as he heard them 
 in that lonely solemn temple of God. The words of 
 "Amos, the herdsman of Tekoa," to the sinful chil- 
 dren of Israel, were not more "the words of the 
 Lord," than were these questions so put to Ray by 
 this almost pagan herdsman of the Texan prairies. 
 " What shall it profit? " " What shall he give in ex- 
 change?" He could not put the tremendous prob- 
 lems aside. They had come for an answer in the 
 most unexpected place, and at an hour when his 
 mind was full of very different considerations. They 
 affected him as things supernatural affect mortality. 
 He grew nervous and angry under the influence ; he 
 could not sleep, and about midnight he rose and 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 2il 
 
 began to pace the turfy spot on which they had 
 made their camp. Then the herdsman also lifted his 
 head, and, leaning upon his elbow, said : 
 
 " Cap, them thar were kind o' queer words. Ken 
 you see the bearin's of 'em ? " 
 
 " I reckon, Leff, they mean just about this what 
 good will it do a man to win the whole world and 
 go to the devil at the last end ? " 
 
 " And the ' exchange ' business, cap ? " 
 
 "If the devil offered you money, land, cattle, 
 women, wine, every thing men like, in exchange 
 for your soul, would you make the trade? That's 
 about it." 
 
 " Would you, cap ? You've had book-learnin', and 
 aren't to be beat in a trade with any body man or 
 devil now would you ? " 
 
 " It's a trade I haven't thought about, Leff ; we'll 
 adjourn the subject, I reckon." 
 
 " Do you want that bit o' paper, cap ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Then I'll keep it. I'd like to see when I git 
 time what ideas it hangs out." 
 
 In a couple of hours Ray called the man impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 "Saddle up, Leff. I can't sleep, and we may as 
 well travel ; there is moonshine enough." 
 
 He hoped in action to get rid of the unhappy, 
 16 
 
242 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 remorseful feeling which made him so wretched and 
 unwillingly thoughtful ; but he was disappointed. 
 Leff was always silent, this night more than usually 
 so. The Mexican plodded along, offering no remark, 
 but an occasional sacristie! which might be either an 
 exclamation of fear, or anger, or superstition. As it 
 grew toward dawn the prairie was misty and chill, 
 and full of strange illusions. Ray was weary and 
 nervous, and when he reached camp, roused the 
 sleeping men, and ordered breakfast to be made at 
 once. 
 
 As they sat eating it they heard a sound which 
 made every man drop his cup, and at the same mo- 
 ment Ray leaped to his feet, and called out, " Rifles 
 and saddles ! Indians ! " 
 
 There was no doubt of it. Quick sharp volleys of 
 musketry, answered by the well-known Comanche 
 yell, came up the narrow defile, and ere they could 
 determine what was best to be done fugitives in 
 uniform were seen approaching. They said their 
 captain and twenty men had been surprised by a 
 party of Indians, and the captain and six others had 
 already fallen. Ray was no physical coward ; in a 
 few moments he was at the head of his party, riding 
 hard to the rescue ; and as the Indians could not esti- 
 mate the force of the relieving party, they thought 
 it most prudent to retreat. They took time, 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 243 
 
 ever, to scalp the wounded captain. The man was 
 still alive when Kay reached his side, and his piti- 
 ful cries for some one to put him out of torture 
 made even those accustomed to terrible deeds trem- 
 ble. 
 
 But when Ray looked in his face his heart hard- 
 ened. The blood-drenched features were those of 
 his sister's husband, and, almost with a feeling of 
 triumph, he said : 
 
 "Denis Grady, it is Raymund Briffault that has 
 come to see you die. The Comanche have done my 
 work well. A hound like you is good enough, killed 
 by an Indian knife." 
 
 The dying man gave a cry of hopeless agony as 
 Ray turned to a dying soldier lying near. To his 
 lips Ray put a canteen, and the man said, with a 
 glance of bitter reproach at his captain, 
 
 " He was drunk when he ordered us into this 
 death-trap six good lives for a bottle of whisky- 
 give the other boys a drink I'm gone God forgive 
 me!" 
 
 In the meantime an old frontiersman had looked 
 at Grady's scalp. 
 
 " It's a careless job for them Comanche devils to 
 have done. There's one chance in a thousand for 
 him. We ought to give him it, cap." 
 
 " Do what you like, Gilleland ; " and, after a mo- 
 
24A THE LOST SILVER .OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 ment's hesitation, lie took his silk handkerchief from 
 his pocket and gave it to the man. Fortunately it 
 was still very early, and Captain Grady's head was 
 covered with the handkerchief, soaked in water, and 
 so, moaning and shrieking, he was carried to Ray's 
 camp. Then there was necessarily a delay which 
 Ray could ill brook ; but Grady could not endure 
 any movement, and no one, even of his own com- 
 pany, was willing to put an end to the misery of the 
 dying man, though he constantly prayed them for 
 the mercy. 
 
 On the second night Raymund awoke suddenly, 
 and there was a feeling of pity in his heart. The 
 camp-fire was burning low and red, and in its glow a 
 man was sitting by the blanket on which Grady lay 
 dying of the agony which was forcing life from all 
 its citadels. 
 
 " Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain 
 mercy." He did not know where the words came 
 from ; but there they were. If an angel had spoken 
 them in his ear they could have been no more dis- 
 tinctly heard. He went straight to Grady, and, 
 stooping down, said : 
 
 " Grady, I have come to forgive you. If a bad 
 man like Raymund Briffault can do that, you may 
 surely ask the Almighty for pardon. He is a sight 
 more merciful than I am." 
 
LIFE AND DEATH. 245 
 
 " I'm sorry, Briffault. I deserve all I suffer ; I've 
 been a brute ; tell Gloria Fin sorry." 
 
 "Think of yourself at this hour, Grady. I'm no 
 preacher, but I know, and you know, there is mercy 
 for all that ask it. You had better talk to God than 
 to ine. I have forgiven you fully forgiven you." 
 
 He turned away then, and sat down under a tree a 
 little way off, and there was a tender, glowing feel- 
 ing at his heart. He made no formal prayer, he was 
 not conscious that he was praying ; but the thoughts 
 of mercy, the solemn feelings of imploration that 
 were in his soul, were truest prayer. 
 
 At the chill dawn Grady died in such agony that 
 all the vast silent spaces seemed to be penetrated 
 with terror and misery. " What profit f " If lie 
 gained the whole world and had to face death with- 
 out God, " what profit f " These two words haunted 
 Bay perpetually. If he drank, if he gambled, if he 
 made a trade, something asked him, " What profit?" 
 He wished heartily that he had never seen that bit 
 of paper, and soon after, when Leff wanted to talk 
 to him about it, he said, 
 
 " Go to a minister, Leff ; that kind of thing is their 
 business, and they can give you all the points." 
 
 But he wondered at Leff's anxiety, and compared 
 it with his own, and after some days of restless un- 
 happincss he thought, 
 
246 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 "I'll go home and see Cassia and the children, 
 and I'll pay John Preston that seven hundred 
 dollars, and then perhaps I shall feel more con- 
 tented." 
 
 When any idea took possession of Ray's mind he 
 never rested until he put it into action ; so two weeks 
 after his determination he found himself near his 
 home. On the prairie he met his two eldest daugh- 
 ters taking their morning ride, and they turned with 
 him, and came galloping joyfully up the avenue at 
 his side. Cassia was sewing on the veranda, the 
 younger children playing in the shady corner beside 
 her. She threw down her work and went, with 
 outstretched arms, to meet them. Her face was so 
 radiant, her whole attitude so loving, that Ray flung 
 himself from his horse, and took her to his heart 
 with an affection and pride that could find no words 
 tender and strong enough to interpret them. 
 
 " And madam ? " he asked. 
 
 " She is watching for you. She told me this morn- 
 ing you were coming." 
 
TIJK PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 247 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 
 
 "They sin who tell us love can die: 
 With life all other passions fly, 
 All others are but vanity. 
 
 " But love is indestructible ; 
 
 Its holy flame forever burnetli ; 
 
 From heaven it came, to heaven returneth ; 
 
 It soweth here in toil and care, 
 
 But the harvest time of love is there." 
 
 IN the afternoon Kay visited madam. She evinced 
 an unusual pleasure and interest in his return, and 
 he was astonished to see her so bright and well. 
 Almost constantly in the company of children, it 
 seemed as if her face caught something youthful 
 from the little faces in which she loved to look. She 
 was sitting at the window in a large crimson chair, 
 and was as carefully attired as if she were eighteen 
 instead of eighty. Her black satin dress, though 
 made with extreme plainness, was of the richest qual- 
 ity, and fell in plenteous folds. Her laces were tine 
 and white, her small thin fingers bright with glanc- 
 ing diamonds and luminous opals, and beneath her 
 
248 THE LOST SILVER OF BEIFFAULT. 
 
 bands of snow-white hair, her eyes were limpid 
 and brilliant as ever. Kay was proud of her; he 
 also loved her. She was the only mother he remem- 
 bered ; he kissed her hands and face with an affec- 
 tion she could not mistake. 
 
 " You have brought news, Kay ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " About Gloria's husband ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "He is dead?" 
 
 " He is dead. How do you know ? " 
 
 "The old see visions and dream dreams. One 
 morning I saw a dead man lose a fight, and the 
 dead man was Denis Grady. Tell me the particu- 
 lars." 
 
 Kay told her the whole sad story, and she listened 
 with apparent indifference. But when he had left 
 the room she covered her face and wept. " So many 
 go away, and I remain," she murmured. " Gay and 
 handsome, strong and gallant, he has perished misera- 
 bly, while I, frail and old and sorrowful, still live 
 on." All thoughts of anger or revengeful triumph 
 had departed she was astonished that she could not 
 feel them ; even Gloria was a second thought, but 
 when once she had presented herself to madam's 
 mind, all other considerations were pushed aside. 
 Now John Preston could go and find her. She 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 249 
 
 might see the dear child again. She might have 
 time to undo some of the evil she had wrought. 
 Ray had told her that he was going to the Preston 
 ranch on the following day, and she sent a note by 
 him, asking John to come over to BrLffault and see 
 her. 
 
 The visit was not one which Ray liked to make. 
 There had been no intimacy since the affair of the 
 forged name ; and the seven hundred dollars which 
 John paid at that time had never been refunded. But 
 Ray's awakened conscience now gave him no rest, 
 and he thought, if he repaid this debt, and regained 
 John's friendship, he might be more at ease. He 
 went in the middle of the afternoon, when he knew 
 John was sure to be alone in his room. John was 
 both astonished and disturbed at his entrance ; his 
 brother-in-law's character made him instantly fear 
 more shame and trouble. He rose at Ray's entrance, 
 but he did not speak a word either of anger or of 
 welcome. 
 
 "John." 
 
 " Well, sir." 
 
 "I have come to pay you that seven hundred 
 Jollars, and to ask you to give me your friendship 
 again." 
 
 " Do you think seven hundred dollars is the meas- 
 ure of my friendship, Ray! Did I withdraw my 
 
250 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 friendship for seven hundred dollars? Will I give 
 it back again for seven hundred dollars ? " 
 
 " You mistake me, John. I am miserable, not only 
 about the money, but for the wrong I did at that 
 time. I wish to pay it back with every cent of in- 
 terest. I think I ought." 
 
 u You are right, you ought. Pay it, then. I hear 
 you can well afford it." 
 
 "But there is a debt between us I never can pay; 
 don't think I have forgotten it. I know the full 
 value of what you did for me at that time. John, I 
 am truly sorry for the past ; wont you be my friend 
 again ? " 
 
 Then John lifted his brown, bright face and 
 stretched out his hand across the table, and his gray 
 eyes had the twinkle of forced-back tears in them. 
 
 " Thank you, John. Ever since Grady's death I 
 have been wanting to tell you this." 
 
 " Grady dead ! O Ray, I hope you had no part in 
 any man's death ! " 
 
 "No; it was the Comanche. I went to his res- 
 cue, but it was too late. At first I was glad of the 
 dreadful fate that had come to him; at the last i 
 pitied and forgave him." 
 
 " Thank God for that ! " 
 
 Then they talked over the tragedy, and though 
 Hay said very little about his own feelings, John per- 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 251 
 
 ceived that God had spoken to his conscience, and 
 that he was as wretched as Adam was when he went 
 and hid himself among the trees of the garden. 
 
 He returned with Raymund to Briffault, and as 
 madam was just taking her afternoon tea, he 
 joined her. She was not a woman disposed to ap- 
 proach a question in any roundabout way ; and as 
 soon as they were alone, she said, 
 
 " Grady is dead. You can now fulfill your promise 
 about Gloria." 
 
 " I am ready to do so, madam ; that is, I shall be 
 in a week or ten days. Where do you think I ought 
 to seek her first ? In New Orleans ?" 
 
 " No ; she would go farther from home. She 
 knew her brother often visited New Orleans, and she 
 would have felt her life constrained by that knowl- 
 edge. Gloria would seek perfect freedom." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 U I am sure she would go to New York. Her 
 memories of that city were all happy ones. She 
 knew it partially, and its rapid life attracted her. I 
 have no doubt she is in New York." 
 
 " Have you any clew to give me ? " 
 
 " I have no clew of any kind. You must trust to 
 your own judgment entirely." 
 
 " Then I will do my best. May God bless the 
 effort 1" 
 
252 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 " "Write to me occasionally. I shall sit here, and 
 watch and wait. There is no harder work, John." 
 
 " I will remember that. Once a week I will write 
 though I have nothing but failure to report." 
 
 " Thank you, John. Disappointment is better than 
 suspense." 
 
 He tried several times to renew the spiritual confi- 
 dence that had been between them on his previous 
 visit, but all his efforts were forced and vain, and 
 madam made no response to them, for 
 
 " We cannot kindle when we will 
 The fire that in- our heart resides; 
 
 The Spirit bloweth, and is still : 
 In mystery our soul abides." 
 
 But, as she held his hand at their parting, she said, in 
 a low, hesitating voice : 
 
 " Have you considered all, John ? Gloria was vain 
 and weak she may not be a good woman she may 
 be a very bad woman even among the lost ones." 
 
 John's eyes kindled : the man's soul sprang into 
 his face. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " what then ? Christ came to 
 seek and to save the lost. Are we not all lost ? St. 
 John uses a very broad expression; I want you to 
 think about it : ' Jesus Christ is the propitiation for 
 our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins 
 of tlie whole world? Who can narrow that zone of 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 253 
 
 mercy ? God willeth not that any should perish. 
 There was one noble soul, Thomas Erskine, of Lin- 
 lathen, who dared to say boldly from his pulpit, ' "We 
 are lost here as much as there? Christ is sufficient to 
 the very uttermost. Do you think, then, that Gloria, 
 for whom prayer has gone up continually, is lost ? 
 O no, madam ! O no ! " 
 
 " John, you almost make me to hope. Last night, 
 as I sat alone, I thought of many things thought of 
 how patient God had been with me so long patient 
 and I wept very bitterly, John." 
 
 " Those were good tears, madam. Even Moham- 
 med says that among the seven men whom God will 
 draw under his shadow on that day when there will 
 be no shadow, is 'the man who remembereth God 
 when he is alone, and weepeth.' Your Father is 
 surely calling you ; arise and go to him." 
 
 " Farewell, John Preston. I hope to hear good 
 news from you." 
 
 " It is sure to come. Farewell." 
 
 " John one moment I had forgotten." And she 
 put a purse into his hand. 
 
 He pushed it gently back. 
 
 " No ; I have enough. The expense must be mine." 
 
 " Don't be selfish, John. Allow me to help. Take 
 it for some poor soul. I have given it after a hard 
 struggle. Don't refuse my offering." 
 
254: THE LOST SILVER OF BEIFFAULT. 
 
 " Indeed, I will not refuse it. I will try and do 
 some good with every dollar." 
 
 She turned her face away, and he left her. He 
 was much astonished at the circumstance, for though 
 he had heard at intervals that madam was miserly, he 
 had not believed the accusation. It seemed so incon- 
 gruous with the self-indulgent way in which she 
 lived, and with many other circumstances which he 
 readily recalled. 
 
 Before leaving the house he wished to see Cassia. 
 He found her in her sewing-room, cutting out cloth- 
 ing for her large family. She straightened herself 
 as he entered, and, with a smile, laid the scissors upon 
 the table, and sat down to chat with him. Mary Brif- 
 fault, now a lovely girl, 
 
 " Grown to her rosy grace, like the rose apple, high in the branches," 
 
 was at the machine, sewing. John kissed her and 
 told her to go and keep madam company a little time 
 while he spoke to her mother. Then Cassia looked 
 at him anxiously. The remark indicated a desire for 
 private conversation, and she had learned to fear tid- 
 ings she had to hear alone. 
 
 " What is the matter, John ? Why did you send 
 Mary away ? " 
 
 " I want to speak to you about Gloria." 
 
 "Of" Cassia's face grew cold and indifferent. 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 255 
 
 Gloria had brought her so much sorrow that 
 she felt as if any other subject would be more 
 pleasant. 
 
 " I am going away to try and find her." 
 
 "John!" 
 
 " I shall go to New York first. I may be a long 
 time away. Is there any thing I can do for you, 
 Cassia, before I go ? " 
 
 She longed to cry, but she would not. 
 
 " There is nothing you can do now. I wanted you 
 to try and influence Ray. Sterne's business is for 
 sale ; why should he not buy it ? If he has not 
 money enough, we could sell Briffault. I dislike the 
 place so much, and madam is now more inclined than 
 she ever was before to do something to keep Ray at 
 home. But Gloria crosses my plans and hopes again. 
 She has been a great sorrow to me." 
 
 " Dear Cassia, you are more unjust, more unkind, 
 than I ever saw you. Try and be generous." 
 
 " One gets tired of being generous, John, when 
 generosity is always abused." 
 
 " Cassia, I promised madam, long ago, to seek Glo- 
 ria when I could do so without wrong, ller husband 
 is dead. No one has now a better right to seek her 
 than I have." 
 
 " O dear ! Then you mean to marry her ? After 
 all these years you are still infatuated ? " 
 
256 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 " Yes, I mean to marry her. I am, I will admit, 
 still infatuated." 
 
 ;< Then there is no more to be said." 
 
 She rose and went back to her work, and kept her 
 eyes resolutely dropped upon it. 
 
 " Good-bye, Cassia." 
 
 He put his arm round her waist and lifted her face 
 and kissed it. She was cold and unresponsive, and 
 John lingered in hopes of some kinder farewell. She 
 let him leave the room without another look or word ; 
 but when he had shut the door, and she heard his 
 strong, firm footstep receding down the hall, she 
 softened all over. Throwing down her work she fol- 
 lowed him with fleet steps, and, as he stood upon the 
 veranda, she put her hands upon his shoulders, she 
 turned him round and kissed him, and whispered : 
 
 " Forgive me, John. I was shamefully cross, but I 
 am sorry, dear. I am glad you are going ; and 
 I hope, darling, that you will find Gloria ; and when 
 you bring her home I'll try and love her truly for 
 your sake." 
 
 And O, how proud and happy John was ! 
 
 " Thank you, my dear Cassia. Now I can go with 
 a light heart. You have made me hopeful and 
 joyful." 
 
 Then the children were called, and the parting was 
 made amid their smiles and kisses, and pretty childish 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 257 
 
 commissions for " dolls that could sing," and " real 
 steam-engines," and tools, and books, and Mary's final 
 whisper about " a new piano." At the last point of 
 view in the avenue he turned and lifted his hat to 
 Cassia, and the boys and girls at her side, and they 
 answered it with a cheery 
 
 "Good-bye, Uncle John!" 
 
 In little more than a week John was ready for his 
 journey. Just before leaving he went to Souda's. In 
 its summer dress the ruinous old house showed few 
 signs of its decay. It was covered with vines, and 
 the garden was a thick, shady tangle of oleander and 
 myrtle trees. Their warm, rich perfume filled the 
 air; and just outside the gate the ocean broke, almost 
 sadly, upon the sands. John stood by it thinking. 
 He had gone a little early to the class-meeting, as he 
 wished to speak to Souda about madam, and he waited 
 there until her household duties allowed her to come 
 to him. 
 
 He was a little depressed. He had not received 
 any assuring answer to his prayers concerning the 
 mission he was going on, and he was not quite satis- 
 fied in his own mind about it. He wondered if he 
 was leaving a positive and evident duty for work of 
 his own setting. There were Cassia and Ray and 
 madam, to all of whom he could speak many a word 
 
 of help and comfort. There were his two class-meet- 
 17 
 
258 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 ings, his appointments for local preaching, his Bible 
 class, his manifold opportunities on his western jour- 
 neys. Was it right and wise to leave all these, and 
 go seeking the one woman whom he loved ? Was it 
 his own selfish love that was leading him ? John 
 Preston had a tender conscience, and these questions 
 troubled him much. He had prayed for direction, 
 but he did not yet feel as if his Father had given him 
 the special word of command, " This is the way, walk 
 ye in it." 
 
 As he was musing upon these tilings Souda ap- 
 proached him. He watched her coming through the 
 myrtle trees; her tall form in spotless, ample gar- 
 ments, her turbaned head thrown a little backward, 
 her strong arms folded over her breast ; and she gave 
 him the impression of one able and willing to help. 
 
 " Good-ebening, Mass' John," she said, cheerily. 
 
 " Good evening, Souda. I am going away, perhaps 
 for a long time, and I must leave madam upon your 
 conscience and your affection, Souda. You have a 
 great influence over her ; go often and see her, go 
 very often. Get her to talk to you. Not neglecting 
 your other work, you must also do this." 
 
 " Mighty long way to Briffault, Mass' John, but 
 I'll go, sure, jist as often as I kin." 
 
 " Souda, when you pray about any thing, and get 
 no answer, no clear answer, what do you think ? " 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 259 
 
 " I allays gits de clear answer. Ef de Lord says 
 de plain words to me, dat am clear, aint it, Mass' 
 John? Ef he don't say any word at all, aint dat 
 sayin' no? Ef I ax him, < Please, good Lord, gib me 
 dis fing, or gib me dat ting,' and he neber says one 
 word, and neber gives me it, course den I knows I'se 
 'fused. I don't 'spect he is gwine to 'splain to me jist 
 now why I'se 'fused, kase he'll do dat in de properest 
 time." 
 
 " That is it, Sonda. You are right." 
 
 " Mass' John, why did you change de class night ? " 
 
 " Because, as I told you, I am going away, going to 
 seek Miss Gloria." 
 
 " O, my Lord ! Is dat really so ? I'se wondered 
 and wondered how she was to git back home. I 
 didn't fink ob you gwine wid de peace message." 
 
 " I am not sure whether I am doing right to go, 
 Souda, You know I have so many duties here." 
 
 " You is doin j jist what de Lord Jesus wants you 
 to do. You is leavin' de ninety and nine sheep in 
 de fold, and gwine into de wil'erness after de lost one. 
 And I'm sure you'll 'member de way he acted 'bout 
 de wanderer. He didn't git wearied wid de trouble, 
 nor cross 'bout de searchin' ; and when he found it, 
 he laid it on his shoulders 'joicing ! Mass' John, 
 'joicing ! fink ob dat ! He didn't blame it, and rake 
 up all de ole faults, and say, ' You was allays j urn pin' 
 
2uO THE LOST SILVER OF BHIFFAULT. 
 
 do wall, and runnin' 'way from de fold.' He didn't 
 frow up fings to it, ' You did dis, or de oder.' He 
 jist cast all de sin and de trouble 'hind his back, and 
 carried it home, 'joicin' ! " 
 
 John looked gratefully into Souda's strong, glow- 
 ing countenance ; all his doubts and fears were gone. 
 He went back to the house with her, and stood up in 
 his place, and spoke to the people gathered there 
 with mighty power. There were eighteen of them, 
 men and women, mostly past the middle of life, who 
 had known toil and sorrow, and had borne the bur- 
 den and heat of the day. And as he was speaking 
 to them a thought came into his heart, and, with- 
 out disputing, he gave it to them, that it might be 
 realized in action. 
 
 " Are you not all Briffaults ?" he inquired. 
 
 " All ob us 'cept ole Jude, in de corner dar. He 
 'longed to the Green fambly," answered Souda. 
 
 " You all remember madam ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " " Yes ! " Yes ! " 
 
 " You thought her a hard mistress ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " The answer was scattering and half- 
 reluctant. 
 
 "She is now a very old woman, she cannot live 
 long. She is trying to find her way back to God, 
 and she cannot pray. Who among you will pray for 
 her ? Who among you, forgetting all his own wrongs, 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 261 
 
 will say, ' Pardon her transgressions and love her 
 
 freely?'" 
 
 !! u uif T he answer was a un i v ersal 
 
 one, and before its echo had died away, a very old 
 man, in a thin, trembling voice, began singing : 
 
 " ' When de sinner got no heart to pray, 
 
 Lord Je=tis, on de cross! 
 When de sinner got no word to say, 
 
 Pray, Lord Jesus, on de cross ! 
 sinner, neber min' how bad you be, 
 Look away ! Look away to Calvary 1 ' " 
 
 While this "spiritual" was being sung, with an 
 amazing pathos of imploration, John slipped from 
 the room. He knew that they would probably re- 
 main singing and praying until midnight, and that 
 Souda's influence would be sufficient to keep the 
 meeting in order. The mention of madam had 
 stirred their hearts, and had brought back to their 
 thoughts sorrowful days of sin and trial. They 
 spoke to one another freely, in some cases candidly 
 acknowledging their own faults. For time had soft- 
 ened all hard memories, and the elegant old lady, al- 
 ways so richly dressed, so " A-shinin' wid de golden 
 jewels," had become to them a source of pride rather 
 than of anger. 
 
 " We was mighty contrary, ebery one ob us, " 
 one old woman admitted ; " sometimes de debil 
 
262 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 would git in me, and I'd try fur to be as ugly as I 
 could." 
 
 " An' it's a fac', brothers and sisters. I did steal de 
 corn what she had me whipped fur. I hadn't 'ligion 
 in dem days, and my pal in bery sticky." 
 
 "Nobody eber keep sich Christmas times as we 
 kep' on de Briffault place." 
 
 " We was de quality 'mong de colored people." 
 
 " Mighty proud ob ole missis I was. She look like 
 a queen a-standin' on de steps in de mornin', all white 
 and shinin' ; and when she say to me, ' Mose, go to 
 de cotton field and see to de hands to-day,' I feel 
 all ober like I glad fur to die fur her, ef she tell 
 me to." 
 
 " We had our trials ebery hour of de day wid her, 
 us 'oornan folks had, dat was in de house," moaned 
 old Jane ; and Souda, perceiving that Jane was in a 
 mood to go " way down on de groun'," lifted her 
 strong, resonant voice in the Negro Methodists' 
 favorite spiritual : 
 
 ' ' De fox hab de hole in de groun', 
 An' de bird hab nest in de air, 
 An' ebery t'ing hab a hiding-place, 
 But we poor sinners hab none. 
 Now aint dat hard trials ? 
 Great tribulation? 
 Aint dat bard trials ? 
 Fm boun' to leave dis worl'. 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 
 
 Methodist, Methodist is my name, 
 
 Methodist till I du 
 I'll be baptize in de Methodist name, 
 
 Methodist till I die. 
 You may go dis-a way, 
 You may go dat-a way, 
 You may go from door to door, 
 But ef you hav'n't de grace ob God in your heart 
 Do debil will git you, sure! ' " 
 
 With every verse their warm hearts grew warmer. 
 " Babylon's Fallen," " Most Done Trabelin," " Gid- 
 eon's Band ob Milk-white Horses," and many another 
 stirring " spiritual," made the old rooms forget their 
 first echoes of rattling dice and clinking glass, of 
 buccaneer songs and jokes, thoughtless oaths and pas- 
 sionate words. One by one they went away singing, 
 until Souda and Jane and two others were left alone. 
 Then Souda told them, " Mass' John Preston is gwine 
 to find Miss Gloria, de poor lamb, los' in de wilder- 
 ness ;" and ere she was aware, her feet began to move, 
 and her large hands to softly pat her knees, and in a 
 voice of triumph she commenced : 
 
 '' De Great Householder gwine to sweep de house, 
 Gwine to light de can'le and sweep de whole house, 
 
 T'ink of dat, little chillen ! 
 Gwine to seek and find de piece ob silver, 
 Gwine to seek it through de day and midnight, 
 
 T'ink of dat, little chillen ! 
 
264 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 When de Master finds de piece ob silver, 
 
 What a shouting, little chillen! 
 What a joy among de angels, little chillen! 
 What a shouting and a glory, little chillen ! 
 
 yes ! yes. Bound to find de silver, 
 
 Bound to count de silver in de Promised Land ! 
 
 With a shouting and a glory in de Promised Land ! ' " 
 
 John had felt no hesitancy in telling Sonda of the 
 object of his journey, nor of speaking to the Briffault 
 servants about madam. Nothing relating to the 
 freedmen and freed women is so remarkable as their 
 reticence concerning their old masters, and their re- 
 luctance to speak evil of them. Whatever the Brif- 
 fault servants said among themselves, every one of 
 them spoke with pride of "madam" and "Master 
 Ray " to strangers. 
 
 " Mass' Ray ! He de finest gentleman in de whole 
 worl'," said Mose, one day, in Sterne's store, when 
 that person had made an uncomplimentary remark 
 about his late partner ; and Mose dropped his load, 
 rolled his sleeves above his brawny shoulders, and 
 said again, with an accent not to be mistaken, " De 
 iinest gentleman in de whole worl' ; I reckon I know 
 'bout Mass' Briffault, and I'll lick any man, black 01 
 white, what says he aint." 
 
 " Get on with your work, Mose," replied Sterne. 
 
 "Do your own work, Mister Sterne. I'se gwine 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 265 
 
 out ob here, 'fore you costs me ten dollars for teach- 
 in' you how to speak 'bout gentlemen." And in spite 
 of Sterne's orders, and' the entreaties of the waiting 
 teamsters, Mose left the bundles and barrels to block 
 ap the store and sidewalks until another man could 
 be found. 
 
 And Mose's action was no extraordinary one. In 
 the large majority of cases the freed slave, even in 
 the first days of his enlargement, resented a word 
 against his former master, and the softening influence 
 of years made the old tie almost a paternal one, the 
 old plantation dear and fair as childhood's home. 
 
 Even while Souda was singing, " Gwine to seek 
 and find de piece ob silver," John was boarding the 
 tug which was to take him out to the New York 
 steamer lying at the harbor bar. Her words to him 
 had been an assurance, and he was cheerful and hope- 
 ful. He had committed his way to God, and he be- 
 lieved that he would " order it," and bring also to 
 pass whatever he had ordained. His first work on 
 reaching the great city was to make himself familiar 
 with its social life, its hours and places of work and 
 recreation. Then he began his search. When 
 women were shopping he lingered about the doors 
 of their favorite stores. In the park hours he 
 watched the drive ; in the evening he stood at the 
 entrances of the theaters and music halls. Some- 
 
266 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFA.ULT. 
 
 times lie spent day after day upon the pleasure 
 steamers plying to the resorts on the bay. His sight, 
 trained upon the prairie to be on the constant "look- 
 out," was remarkably keen and swift. Nothing es- 
 caped it. In a crowd he saw every face. In a list 
 of names any one having the slightest resemblance 
 to " Gloria," u Briffault," or " Grady" attracted him 
 immediately. Going down a street he read with pre- 
 cision every sign ; but two months passed, and he 
 had obtained no clew to the object of his search. 
 
 When the gay world began to return from its holi- 
 day making, John went over the same ground with 
 renewed hope. Week after week he watched for the 
 face he loved in every favorite scene of pleasure. 
 He began to be known at the opera-house and the 
 fine theaters as the man who bought a ticket and 
 then waited in the vestibule. The employees per- 
 ceived that he was looking for some one, and they 
 tried not to notice him. In whispers they speculated 
 as to whether it was wife or sister or lady-love who 
 was so patiently sought, and John was sensible of the 
 delicacy which ignored his singular position. 
 
 Christmas and New Year passed ; it was the very 
 height of the gay season. One morning John was 
 sitting at the little marble table, waiting for the 
 breakfast he had ordered. It was a cold, clear morn- 
 ing, and he was watching the shop-girls, full of chat- 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 267 
 
 ter and laughter, going to their various stores. " The 
 Herald " lay before him, but he had not opened it ; 
 and, as he was slowly preparing to do so, his coffee 
 and steak were ready, and he put the paper down at 
 his side. In the middle of his meal his eyes fell upon 
 the words: 
 
 "Ladies' fine imported costumes. Madam Gloria 
 Yaldaz, 33 West Street." 
 
 For a moment he gazed like one spell-bound ; then, 
 rising hastily, he went to his room to consider the 
 hope that had come to him. For he remembered 
 that in the convent at San Antonio Gloria's favorite 
 music teacher had been a Miss Yaldaz. He had fre- 
 quently heard her spoken of ; he knew that for some 
 time after leaving the sisters, Gloria corresponded 
 with her. The conjunction of the two names was 
 circumstantial evidence of the clearest kind to 
 John. 
 
 He went at once to look at the house named in the 
 advertisement. It was a large and handsome one. 
 A servant-man was drawing up the blinds and polish- 
 ing the windows ; but there was little evidence of 
 life in it until about one o'clock. Then carriage after 
 carriage began to arrive ; there was a constantly mov- 
 ing panorama of fine equipages and fine ladies and 
 liveried servants until three o'clock, when the rush 
 of visitors was over, and John ventured to call upon 
 
268 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 Madam Yaldaz. Without hesitation he was shown 
 into a handsome parlor. On the sofas and tables the 
 richest silks and satins, fine laces, furs and feathers 
 were lying. A couple of ladies were examining the 
 goods, while an old gentleman, who was their escort, 
 stood at the window, looking out into the street, with 
 a bored and rather contemptuous face. John handed 
 his card to the saleswoman in attendance. She was 
 trying to make a sale ; she bowed, and held it in her 
 hand. Evidently he might have to wait, and he was 
 rather pleased with the prospect. He soon understood 
 that behind the folding doors there was an inner 
 sanctum of fashion. The murmur of voices was 
 audible, and first one and then another visitor came 
 from its seclusion and went away. 
 
 Suddenly there was a light, shrill, rippling laugh ; 
 it began spontaneously, it was broken off, as it were, 
 in the middle. He turned; the bearer of his card 
 had disappeared, and he was alone in the room. If it 
 was Gloria, it was probably his name that had inter- 
 rupted her mirth. Almost as the thought crossed 
 his mind the doors were pushed softly apart, and she 
 stood a moment within them, looking at John. 
 Never had he thought of her growing to so perfect 
 and splendid a womanhood. The small, round, curly 
 head which had nestled so often upon his shoulder 
 was lifted proudly, and crowned with waving bands 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 269 
 
 and massive braids. She wore a marvelous costume of 
 brown and amber satin, and she seemed to have 
 grown taller, and to have an air of authority that 
 made her appear strange to him. 
 
 But the moment she advanced, with both hands 
 outstretched, and a bright, bewitching smile lighting 
 up her piquant face, John recognized the old Gloria. 
 His emotion was so great that he could not speak ; 
 his lips indeed moved, but no words were audible, 
 and it was Gloria who, as she led him to a sofa, said, 
 softly : 
 
 " I am so glad to see you." 
 
 "O Gloria!" 
 
 " How did you find me out ? " 
 
 " I have been seeking you for half a year." 
 
 She pouted a little and shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " What for, then ? Is grandma dead ? Has she 
 left me a great fortune ? " 
 
 She asked the questions with a light, mocking 
 laugh, and John answered, gravely : 
 
 " No ; Captain Grady is dead." 
 
 "Are you sure ?" 
 
 " Else I had not been here, Gloria." 
 
 "Who told you?" 
 
 " Ray was present when he died." 
 
 " Did Ray kill him at last 2 " 
 
 " The Indians scalped him." 
 
270 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 A singular expression came over her face ; there 
 was a little fear or wonder in it. 
 
 " Well, that is strange," she said, slowly. " Very 
 often I used to say to him, ' Denis, I hope, I do hope, 
 the Comanche will scalp you ! ' I dare say he re- 
 membered it. Now you must stay and dine with me. 
 O how much we shall have to talk about ! " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; and I shall be glad to stay." 
 
 She led him into an elegant room, where a table 
 was already laid for her meal. John looked round in 
 wonder. The splendor was very real splendor ; every 
 appointment showed not only tine taste, but affluence. 
 Gloria watched his face with amusement, and after 
 dinner, as they sat in the luxurious chairs before the 
 open fire, drinking coffee, she said : 
 
 " I see you are astonished, John." 
 
 " I am, indeed." 
 
 " You expected to find me a very miserable, starv- 
 ing prodigal, out at elbows and toes a kind of dis- 
 grace to all who loved me ? " 
 
 " No, I did not. You love your body too well not 
 to take good care of it, Gloria." 
 
 i% O, that's the way you put it ! " 
 
 " Plow do you put it ? " 
 
 " A little different to that. I think I deserve some 
 credit." 
 
 He watched her toying with her gold bracelet, 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 271 
 
 watched the changing lights and shadows on her 
 face, and they were so mixed, so contrary, and so 
 fleeting, that he knew not how to read them. But 
 he perceived that her experience had not been favor- 
 able to her character. At this first meeting, however, 
 they spoke as friends long parted are apt to speak 
 of so many subjects, that all were touched in a pass- 
 ing, superficial manner. 
 
 It was now that John's trial really commenced. 
 Before he found Gloria he thought it would be easy 
 to forgive her any thing every thing. But he had 
 not included in that bill of amnesty the kind of sin- 
 ner he found, for he had never known, never imag- 
 ined such a character a woman whose intense self- 
 ishness kept her safe within the pale of respectable 
 sins ; a woman who went to church as a matter of 
 business or of fashion ; who lived quietly and regu- 
 larly because dissipation was bad for her health and 
 impaired her beauty ; who had no love affairs, because 
 she considered it the height of folly to love any one 
 better than herself ; who was honest because honesty 
 was the best policy, and good-tempered because it was 
 more comfortable to be good-tempered. 
 
 As John gradually learned from her the history of 
 her movements after leaving Briffault, he was aston- 
 ished at the prudence she had manifested ; for there 
 is no doubt that the children of the world are wise in 
 
272 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 their generation. The walk of five miles to Waul's 
 Station was the only inconvenience she had permitted 
 herself to suffer. From thence she had found com- 
 fortable transit to New York, every mile of the way. 
 
 " And I quite enjoyed the journey," she said to 
 John, looking him directly in the face with her quick, 
 challenging expression. " Yes, I really enjoyed it. 
 We had lovely weather and nice company, and I 
 thought to myself, 'I may just as well make a pleas- 
 ure trip of it. One never knows what is to come 
 after.' " 
 
 " Were you not terrified to find yourself in such a 
 great city without friends, and lonely ? O how 
 lonely you must have been ! " 
 
 " After living with Denis Grady on the frontier the 
 society of two million people seemed delightful ; I 
 was far more afraid of him than of a city full. I 
 had a very good plan, also. When I was here with 
 Ray and Cassia we stayed at a very fine hotel, and the 
 proprietor was always kind to me. I went straight 
 to him. I told him my true story, showed him the 
 jewels grandma had given me, and asked him to ad- 
 vise me. He was as kind and true as gold. Of 
 course I should have been questioned and doubted 
 and cheated in the sale of the stones ! He sent for 
 the expert of a large jewelry firm, and made him 
 value them in my presence. He said they were 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 273 
 
 worth three thousand five hundred dollars, and when 
 the firm proposed to buy them I had only to take 
 their check in exchange." 
 
 " You were very wise and fortunate, but how did 
 you drift into this business ? " 
 
 " Yery naturally. One morning I went to a store 
 on Broadway to buy myself a bonnet. During my 
 previous visit I had bought several there, and the 
 lady recognized me, and we fell into conversation, for 
 she was selling out her business, and she thought I 
 was rich and could buy many things. I did not buy 
 much then, but I went back to my hotel and thought 
 very seriously over my affairs. I knew that thirty- 
 five hundred dollars would not last forever ; I could 
 teach music and embroidery ; I could make lace. 
 But what a slavery is teaching ! and children I have 
 always detested. Lace-making was independent, but 
 it made my eyes red and tired. I had no mind to be 
 a lady's maid, and I was too pretty to go into a store 
 and be always defending myself from the imperti- 
 nences of whiskered clerks. 
 
 " I thought of these things for a few hours, and 
 then I made up my mind to buy the business of Mad- 
 am Jeanne Deschamps, retiring from millinery to 
 matrimony. She was very anxious to get rid of it ; 
 the transfer was pleasantly made, and a week after 
 
 my first intention I walked into the work-room one 
 18 
 
274 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 morning, and said : ' Ladies, I am your employer for 
 the future.' The forewoman was a very clever busi- 
 ness woman ; I made a friend of her. She gave me 
 the best of advice, arid I had sense enough to take it. 
 She is with me yet." 
 
 "But you were ignorant of the business, prac- 
 tically ? " 
 
 "I did not need practical knowledge. 1 found 
 skillful hands and paid them well. 1 was my own 
 saleswoman, and I made myself as charming as pos- 
 sible to every one. Very soon I got a reputation. 
 My profits were enormous; two hundred per cent, 
 sometimes ! I got a larger store ; then I took a house 
 and furnished it, and imported line costumes and 
 silks and laces, and whatever I touched turned into 
 gold. Last year I bought this house," she said, rising 
 and surveying the handsome room from her position 
 on the hearth-rug. " Yes, John, this house is all 
 mine, from cellar to roof-stone. I do not owe a cent, 
 and I dare say if a friend wanted a few thousands I 
 could let him have them, easily." 
 
 She looked so handsome, so self-satisfied, so proud 
 of her success ; but she was annoyed at John's somber 
 face and downcast eyes. He did not answer her re- 
 mark, though he believed it to have been made in a 
 little outburst of regard for his own benefit. 
 
 " Don't you think I have done very well, John ? " 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 275 
 
 " Very well, singularly well, for yourself, as regards 
 this world, Gloria; but, dearest heart! what about 
 the next one ? I was thinking of that." 
 
 " It seems to me, John, that while we are in this 
 world it is enough to do our duty to this world/' 
 
 " Yes, if we were going to stay in this world for- 
 ever; but the soul is a star-traveled stranger only 
 here for a purchase. Time is given it to buy eter- 
 nity with." 
 
 " Now, please, don't preach, John " and just at 
 that moment a gay party entered, who insisted on 
 Gloria going with them to the opera. She looked 
 at John. He had risen and gone to the window, and 
 was gazing into the gas-lit street. His face was dark 
 and troubled, and Gloria's heart, or conscience, pinched 
 her a little ; but she went away laughing to prepare 
 herself for the entertainment. When she returned 
 to the room, John had gone, and one of her visitors 
 began to make himself merry about the "gloomy 
 knight." 
 
 Gloria flashed up like a flame. 
 
 "I can tell you," she said, passionately, "that it 
 would take ten, twenty, yes, sir, fifty ordinary men 
 like you to make one John Preston 1 " 
 
 She did not enjoy her evening after this episode. 
 She had lost control of herself, she saw nothing inter- 
 esting, heard no melody in all the music. She was 
 
276 THE LOST SILVER OF BEIFFAULT. 
 
 thinking of that tall, sorrowful man in the shadow of 
 the window curtains, and all the gay show was but a 
 phantasm of strut and bluster and hollow laughter. 
 
 The next day John did not call, and she was rest- 
 less and unhappy. 
 
 " How provoking men are ! " she exclaimed, an- 
 grily, as she sat down to her dinner alone. " All 
 day I have been waiting to tell John how sorry I am, 
 and he wont come. When he does come I shall 
 most likely not be able to say it." 
 
 Her anticipation was partly correct ; she was cross 
 and unhappy next evening, and inclined to say disa- 
 greeable tilings. 
 
 u Who were your visitors, Gloria ? " John asked. 
 
 " Eugene and Jennie Lask, and May and Bert 
 Smith ; very nice people, indeed." 
 
 Then suddenly laying down her knife and fork, 
 and looking John in the eyes, she asked, 
 
 " Why did you let rne go to the opera ? You 
 think it is so wicked to go, and yet you stood still, 
 and never said one word to prevent me from com- 
 mitting a sin. I expected you to speak out, like a 
 man." 
 
 " I was so grieved and astonished " 
 
 " You were so jealous, and because you were jeal- 
 ous you forgot all about my soul. If I believed 
 what you believe, if I had been you, John, I would 
 
THE PKODIGAL DAUGHTER. 277 
 
 have said, * Gloria, don't go to the opera. It is wrong 
 to go.' I would have said it, and I would have stood 
 to it ; I wouldn't have minded the queen of England, 
 or pope of Rome, or the president of the United 
 States. Eugene Lask might have called me ' pecul- 
 iar,' ' gloomy," 1 any thing he liked ; I would have said, 
 to the last moment, 4 Gloria, don't go ! ' ' 
 
 " If I had done so, would you have staid at home ? " 
 
 " Yes, I would. If you had asked me in that way, 
 I would. I should have been so proud of you ! And 
 there is another thing, John ; you might wear some- 
 thing else than that forever broadcloth. It is very 
 good and very becoming, but it isn't fashionable. 
 Such fools as Eugene Lask ought to be taught that 
 men in stylish coats can be pious and stand up for 
 their principles. You missed a great opportunity, 
 John, and I'm sorry ; " and she really seemed to have 
 a moment of genuine feeling, the tears came into her 
 eyes, and she leaned her head in her hands and cried 
 a little. 
 
 John was wonderfully touched and happy. He 
 drew close to her, and spoke as he had not dared to 
 speak for many years. He told her how precious 
 she was to him, and begged her to leave all and go 
 back to Texas as his wife. She was frightened at the 
 fervor and ardor of devotion she had roused. 
 
 " That is always the way," she complained ; " the 
 
278 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 moment a poor woman shows her feeling, it is 'Be 
 my wife.' " 
 
 But, after all, the conversation was a step forward, 
 and when John wrote to madam that week, it was in 
 a more hopeful tone. And O, how his letters were 
 watched for and enjoyed and speculated upon ! Ray, 
 indeed, said little, but he always listened with interest 
 to all that Cassia had to tell. 
 
 In fact, the news of Gloria's prosperity had been a 
 great surprise to all. And perhaps the self-compla- 
 cent, wealthy prodigals, who have done well unto 
 themselves, are not as easy to forgive as those who 
 come wanting all things, and humbly throwing them- 
 selves upon the love they have wronged. There are 
 many dark corners in our souls feelings which we 
 would'hardly dare to set naked in the light of God 
 and conscience. Ray was aware of a sentiment of 
 repression, perhaps jealousy. Cassia went to her 
 room and pitilessly examined her heart. " What 
 was it I wished ? " she asked : " that John should find 
 the poor girl in the depths ? Am I envious of her 
 success, her fine house, and radiant beauty? O how 
 wicked that would be! She is Ray's sister, she is 
 John's love ! Dear God, forgive the shadow of evil 
 in my heart ! " 
 
 As for madam, she received the news in speech- 
 less wonder. She trembled and laid her hand upon 
 
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER. 270 
 
 Cassia for support. Her lips quivered, her eyes filled, 
 and one great sob shook her, like wind shakes the 
 tree-tops. In that moment Cassia stooped forward 
 and kissed her. It was the first time she had dared 
 to kiss her. It was done in a sudden impulse of pity 
 and sympathy and joy. But after all those years of 
 patience, the concession had come at the right mo- 
 ment. Madam's pale face flushed, she put out her 
 hand, and said, 
 
 " Thank you, my dear." 
 
 And at that very hour there was a little prayer- 
 meeting in Souda's kitchen. In the glow of 
 the wood tire, three or four old men and three or 
 four old women were singing to the patting of their 
 hands and feet 
 
 " ' De Great Householder gwine to sweep de house, 
 Gwine to light de oan'le and sweep de whole house, 
 Gwine to seek and fin' de piece ob silver 
 
 What am lost, little chillen ! 
 When de Master finds de piece ob silver, 
 
 What a shoutin', little chillen ! 
 What a joy 'mong de angels, little chillen ! 
 What a shoutin' and a glory, little chillen ! 
 
 yes I yes! Bound to find de silver, 
 
 Bound to count de silver in de Promised Land ! 
 
 Wid a shoutin' and a glory in de Promised Land I ' " 
 
280 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE. 
 
 " ' The night is dark, the door stands wide, 
 enter in and rest,' he cried. 
 
 " But alone, afar, I must watch to-night, 
 
 Till the Lord arise and give me light. 
 
 For I cannot go to my home in peace, 
 I cannot rest at my own fireside, 
 I cannot comfort my soul and say, 
 ' I will come to the Door another day.' 
 
 There is no more light, or comfort, or ease, 
 
 No home on earth evermore for me, 
 
 Except I can enter Christ, with thee. 
 
 " I lay asleep in the empty night, 
 
 But God's touch wakened me up to see, 
 
 And the Light of the woild shone on me." 
 
 OKLY that soul-love which nothing can weary 
 could have been faithful through the contradic- 
 tions and uncertainties of Gloria's conduct during 
 the summer ensuing upon the events. But John 
 saw that he was gradually gaining a great influence 
 over her, and he was content to bear, for the end 
 which he had set before himself. In the beginning 
 
THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE. 281 
 
 of July she closed her house, and went to a fash- 
 ionable watering-place ; and for a time plunged into 
 all its excesses, and seemed to take a perverse delight 
 in provoking John's disapproval. 
 
 He did not suffer her any more to run into sin 
 without a distinct warning. 
 
 " You spoil all my pleasure, John," she said, fret- 
 fully, one night ; " how am I to enjoy a dance when 
 you say such dreadful things about dancing ? " 
 
 Still, it was not all dispute and disappointment ; 
 John had many delightful hours with Gloria long 
 strolls on the beach in twilight; charming sails on 
 the moonlit sea, when they sat, hand in hand, and 
 almost let the boat rock them back to shore on the 
 incoming tide ; and quiet chats about home, and home 
 affairs, on the shady lawn in the cool mornings. Glo- 
 ria knew, in her own heart, that John Preston was 
 very dear to her; but the more positively this fact 
 asserted itself, the more provoking and contradictious 
 was her behavior at one time, gentle, lovable, re- 
 linquishing; again, imperious, adverse, and indif- 
 ferent. But John took all her moods with an equal 
 calmness; he saw below the surface, and knew that 
 che one was, perhaps, as hopeful as the other the 
 rebellion, as well as the submission, indicated a cap- 
 tive heart. 
 
 One Sabbath evening in October, after her return 
 
282 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 to New York, she was very tender and gracious. 
 They had been to church together, they had sung 
 out of the same hymn book, and often, during the 
 powerful and persuasive sermon, Gloria's hand had 
 voluntarily sought the strengthening clasp of John's 
 hand. They walked slowly and silently home, and 
 John know the hour for which he had prayed and 
 longed had come. He sat by her side, and pleaded 
 as men plead with one who is dearer than life to 
 them. He spoke to her of the restless, profitless ex- 
 istence she was leading, of the love which God had 
 for her, of the love which he had for her, of the 
 sweet ties of home and kindred, of the fair, fresh 
 land where their home would be. His strong, hand- 
 some face was alight with love and hope, he held her 
 small hands captive ; his eyes, his words, were irre- 
 sistible. She smiled on him through a mist of tender 
 tears ; she whispered on his breast : 
 
 "Dear John, I love you. I will give up every 
 thing for you. I will go back to Texas when you 
 wish me to." 
 
 For a few hours they were rapturously happy, and 
 John felt that for all his prayers and patience he had 
 an over payment of delight. 
 
 But the perversity of the woman's nature was not 
 conquered. When morning dawned she looked at 
 every thing in a different light. She could not bear 
 
THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE. 283 
 
 to relinquish her independence ; to go back and ac- 
 knowledge to madam and Raj and Cassia that her 
 self-sufficiency was in the end a failure. If John 
 really loved her so entirely, why might he not leave 
 Texas, and come and live in New York ? She won- 
 dered she had not thought of that alternative on the 
 previous evening. She was sure it was the proper 
 thing to do. 
 
 But when she proposed it, John's face set itself as 
 stern and inflexible as marble. 
 
 u You must come with me, Gloria," he said ; " you 
 must come willingly. I am going back to Texas. If 
 you will keep your word, and return as my wife with 
 me, I will wait any reasonable time until you are 
 ready. If you will not go back with me, I am going 
 at once this afternoon." 
 
 She pouted, she pleaded, she brought out all her 
 enchantments ; but from this position John would 
 not move. Then she wept passionately, and John, 
 weeping also, and white through all the tan and 
 bronze of wind and weather, took her in his arms and 
 kissed her again and again. 
 
 u Good bye, darling, " he said ; " some day you will 
 understand the love you are sending from you then 
 we may be happy." 
 
 So he left her, but she did not believe he would 
 leave New York. He would stay away, as he had 
 
284 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 done before, one, perhaps two days, but in the end 
 she would find him, as usual, in her dining-room at six 
 o'clock. Three days she waited in restless anxiety 
 and anguish, and then she sent a message to his hotel. 
 
 " Mr. Preston left on the fourteenth," was the reply. 
 
 It was a blow which took all the joy and light out of 
 her life. She tried to persuade herself that she was 
 angry, and only suffering from the mortification of 
 his hurried departure, and the annoyance incident to 
 the breaking up of his company. But O, how heart- 
 sick, how heart hungry she was ! How her ear ached 
 for the sound of his step ! How her eyes longed for 
 the sight of the bright, honest face which her folly 
 and her pride had banished ! 
 
 As for John, he was also unhappy and disappointed, 
 but he felt that he had done right. He was sure of 
 the influence he had gained over the willful, rebell- 
 ious woman, and he believed that when she was left 
 to solitude she would learn how completely she had 
 surrendered her affections. The moment before he 
 decided to leave her, the thought had been far away 
 from him ; it was one of those sudden, imperative 
 decisions which are, in a measure, inspirations. There 
 was no reasoning about it ; his soul gave the order, 
 and it came with the invincible conviction of wisdom. 
 Yet he suffered ; though he knew he had acted wise- 
 ly, he suffered. All the space between himself and 
 
THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE. 285 
 
 Gloria was filled with love and longing and pity. 
 The pain he had thought it wise to give her was a 
 double pain to him. 
 
 He had been more than a year away from Texas, 
 and it had been a very eventful year at Briffault. In 
 the first place, Kaymund had not found the payment 
 of the seven hundred dollars, nor even the restoration 
 of John's friendship, a sufficing balm for a wounded 
 conscience. He was in comparatively easy circum- 
 stances, but never in all his life had he been so rest- 
 less and wretched. He had a lonely pain which 
 drove him to the solitude of the swamp and the 
 sea-shore. " The Almighty troubled him." The 
 thought of his turbulent years of their sin and 
 misery their weary, watchful days and nights of 
 how hardly he had made a little money of the dan- 
 ger of death, in which he had lived and toiled, and 
 that terrible question, "What profit?" waited con- 
 stantly for its answer. 
 
 At this period he spent a great deal of time with 
 madam, and though they did not speak of their sor- 
 row, a subtle spiritual sympathy made them under- 
 stand each other. She was now very anxious for him 
 to remain at home, and she looked eagerly for some 
 reliable promise from him to this effect. His own 
 inclinations were toward the same course, and Cas- 
 sia's entreaties finally induced him to decide on relin- 
 
286 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 quishing his roving life. One more journey, for the 
 purpose of some sales and settlements, he would have 
 to make ; but it was to be the last, and with this 
 assurance he bid his family a hopeful " good-bye." 
 
 He had to go to San Antonio first, and he was 
 walking through its busiest street, one morning, full 
 of calculating thoughts. The place was crowded with 
 rangers and drovers ; with Jews and Spanish-Amer- 
 icans ; with Indians and Negroes ; with prancing 
 horses and great wagons and long yokes of oxen. 
 Ray was mentally adding up the profit and loss of an 
 offer that had been made him, and his mind was fully 
 occupied. Suddenly some one touched him on the 
 shoulder : 
 
 "Captain!" 
 
 "Leff! is that you?" 
 
 " It's me, and it isn't me. I've found out the mean- 
 in' of them thar questions, cap. I've found far more 
 than the whole world. I've found the Lord Jesus 
 Christ ; and O, cap ! thar's nothin' to be taken in ex- 
 change for the joy he's given me." 
 
 Ray looked at him in astonishment. The man's 
 countenance was changed. He had been a silent, 
 dull, heavy man, with a despondent look, and scarce- 
 ly a word to say. His eyes were now bright, his 
 face joyful ; it flushed and broke into smiles as he 
 spoke. 
 
THE SECRprr OF THE PICTURE. 287 
 
 " I am very glad, Leff. They were two bothering 
 questions ; they have worried me a good deal at 
 times." 
 
 " You told me, cap, to go to a minister, and God 
 sent the minister to me down at Bear Spring. I 
 went over thar for Bill Burlage one night, and he 
 was a-preachin' to the boys. Cap," he said, dropping 
 his voice, while his eyes shone with tears, " I heard 
 that night about Calvary. I was all broke up ; and 
 the preacher, he gave me the points afterward ; he 
 talked with me and prayed with me, and the glory 
 and the peace came. I don't know how, but there it 
 was in my heart, and I went back happy, and I've 
 been happy ever since. No, sir-r ! not twenty worlds 
 in exchange for the love of Jesus and the hope of 
 heaven ! " 
 
 This meeting affected Kay beyond measure ; he 
 could not forget Leff's look. After they had parted 
 he wished he had detained the man and talked more 
 with him. But then, as he told himself, he knew all 
 about Calvary. It was no new story to Ray Briffault. 
 During the next few weeks he was at once perfectly 
 miserable about his sins, and yet perfectly reckless 
 about his conduct. He had, too, spells of hard drink- 
 ing and hours of defiance, when, with the cards in 
 his hands, he strove hard to put away from his con- 
 science the questions God had asked him. 
 
288 THE LOST SILVER OF BEIFFAULT. 
 
 One night lie was on the St. Leon River with a 
 large, noisy camp. For three days he had been al- 
 most reckless. Temptations to sin had come con- 
 stantly, and he had very willingly yielded to them. 
 They were settled for the night, the horses " side- 
 lined," the oxen " hoppled," and the tall, sallow, 
 fiercely-whiskered men stalking up and down among 
 them, or else standing around the fires, where coffee 
 was boiling and bacon frying. As they were sitting 
 down to supper a stranger joined them " a lone 
 traveler." He was a tall, large man, with prominent 
 features and a solemn thoughtful ness like a veil over 
 them. His clothing was an ordinary frontier suit, and 
 he carried his rifle as easily and naturally as if it was 
 a third hand and arm. 
 
 After supper the camp generally settled down to 
 playing poker. The stranger leaned against a tree, 
 and, with a gloomy face, watched the game in which 
 Ray had a hand. At the first pause Ray said : 
 
 " Join the game, sir 1 " 
 
 No." 
 
 " Perhaps you don't know it. We will change to 
 suit you." 
 
 " I know it. I know every game that has ever 
 been played between here and lower Natchez. If I 
 wished I could clean out this camp, and let every man 
 choose the game he plays best." 
 
THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE. 289 
 
 There was an instant, almost an angry, denial, and 
 a chorus of bets against his statement. Ray said, 
 politely : 
 
 " Sit down, sir, and make your boast good." 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because, ten years ago, I promised the Eternal I 
 would never touch a card again. If a man makes a 
 promise like that, what would you think of him if he 
 broke it ? " 
 
 He looked at Ray, and Ray answered, gravely : 
 
 " Well, sir, there are circumstances to consider. 
 He might not be able to keep it. Play is a kind of 
 second nature to a man. If he has played long he 
 can't give it up. I know, for I've tried the thing 
 often." 
 
 " Yes, he can. My father took me to the gambling 
 table when I was three years old. When I was ten, 
 he could match me against any rough in Natchez 
 and you know what a set they were more than 
 thirty years ago. I had cleaned out Natchez four 
 times before I was nineteen. In New Orleans I filled 
 any room with spectators I chose to play in. In 
 Brownsville I once sat forty hours and won thirty 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 " Then you are Mad Blake, or the devil," said one 
 of the listening men. 
 
290 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " Yes ; I am Madison Blake. Now you know if a 
 man can give up gambling or not. Put down your 
 cards and listen to me, and I'll tell you how it can be 
 done." 
 
 His face was all aglow, Ins arms stretched upward, 
 and there, in the lonely camp, he preached Christ 
 crucified ; not Christ, the great Teacher, the great 
 Prophet, dying for us on the horizon of some remote 
 age, but Christ that night standing before the throne 
 as a Lamb newly slain, and making intercession for 
 them. The daylight faded, the moon came marching 
 upward to the zenith, the camp-fires burned red and 
 low, but through the solemn space rang out "the 
 voice of one crying in the wilderness, Kepent ye : for 
 the kingdom of heaven is at hand." When it ceased, 
 the cards lay scattered upon the turf, and no one liked 
 to touch them. The men lit their pipes in silence, and 
 went to their rest or their duty, and Eaymund Brif- 
 fault stole away into the thick woods at the back of 
 the camp. 
 
 Standing bareheaded under the gigantic trees, he 
 looked of small account ; but the Holy One put into 
 his heart the great cry of contrition, " Lamb of God, 
 have mercy upon me ! " and the ineffable prayer trav- 
 ersed the infinite spaces and sank into the heart of 
 God. He bent to the sorrowful soul ; he raised it 
 up ; he claimed it by a single glance of love. O 
 
THE SECRET or THE PICTURE. 291 
 
 wonderful communing ! O moment of heavenly as- 
 surance ! What becomes of all the arguments of 
 materialism in the presence of a personal conviction 
 so invincible that neither life nor death can shake it ? 
 
 From that hour Raymund Briffault was a changed 
 man. Old desires and hopes passed away from him ; 
 he looked at life through eyes from which the veil 
 had been rent, and which, indeed, soon became im- 
 penetrated with the light and peace that his soul dwelt 
 in. Before he reached home there were other marked 
 physical changes in him. His gloom and restlessness 
 were gone, and the serenity of his still handsome face 
 and the gentleness and repose of his manners was the 
 first thing which struck Cassia on his return. And 
 O, how sweet were the few whispered words which, in 
 the moment of their meeting, made her the partner 
 of his new life ! 
 
 He very soon remembered madam. He loved her 
 dearly, far more dearly now than ever before. He 
 longed to share with her the marvelous peace that had 
 come to him. She had been ailing a little, and was 
 asleep, Cassia said ; but in the afternoon, when told 
 of Ray's arrival, she roused herself, and met him with 
 much of her old animation. Indeed, she was stand- 
 ing, leaning upon her ivory staff, watching for him 
 when he entered her room. She had shrunken so 
 much that her figure looked almost child-like in its 
 
THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAFLT. 
 
 white garments ; but O, the sorrowful story written 
 upon her face by more than fourscore years of mortal 
 life! 
 
 " Eay ! At last ! " she cried, a little pink flush 
 suffusing her white cheeks. " I am so glad to see 
 you, Ray ! " 
 
 He put his arm round her and kissed her fondly. 
 
 " I shall not leave you again," he said. " I have 
 often given you sorrow, but I will never grieve you 
 more. Forgive me, dear ! " 
 
 She looked up at him in amazement. 
 
 " What is this, Ray ? What has happened ? " 
 
 And as he stood there telling her, with kindling 
 eyes, of the joyful change Christ Jesus had wrought 
 in him, she trembled and grew white as death. With 
 a great effort she reached the sofa, and there she sat 
 speechless, listening to his words and watching him 
 keenly. Her first decided feeling was the strange 
 one of a great respect for her grandson a respect 
 mingled with a new confidence in him. At last she 
 could lean upon his strength and rely upon his care 
 and judgment ; and she had the sensation of one who 
 drops a burden because too weak and tired to carry 
 it longer. 
 
 Yery solemnly she spoke when Ray ceased. 
 
 " I am glad ; glad for you and for myself, and for 
 all we both love. I see that I can trust you now. 
 
THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE. 293 
 
 Ray, I have been waiting many years for tins hour. 
 It has come none too soon, for I am growing very 
 weak, and there is so much to do." 
 
 She rose and walked to the hearth-stone, and for a 
 moment cast her eyes up to the pictured face above 
 it. Then she withdrew a little slat in the bottom of 
 the frame, and a silk loop dropped down. 
 
 " Draw it out," she said to Kay ; and with a slight 
 effort a large leather portfolio was taken from behind 
 the picture. " You may replace the slat, Ray. I 
 shall need it no more. I am going to trust you now 
 with the secret of nearly sixty years." 
 
 As Ray did so she walked back to her chair and 
 sat down, erect and alert. For a long time he had 
 not seen her look so keen and purposeful. 
 
 "Open the book, Ray, and you will understand 
 why Matthew Jarvey visits me at regular periods." 
 
 Ray did so, and looked almost stupidly at the papers 
 it contained. 
 
 "They are the vouchers for nearly two hundred 
 thousand dollars, Ray. I began to save them when 
 your grandfather began to gamble. In those days I 
 dreaded poverty, and as the Briffaults were lazy and 
 self-indulgent men, I gradually got the management 
 of the estate in my own hands. Every year I 
 put more or less away from it, and, as I did not 
 think it safe to have coin in the house, I intrusted 
 
294: THE LOST SILVER OF BRIEF AULT. 
 
 iny accumulations, first to Matthew Jarvey's father, 
 afterward to himself. They invested them well ; 
 some of them, as you will see, singularly well. I put 
 myself in their hands, and they have been ever faith- 
 ful, wise, and secret. The papers relating to our ear- 
 liest transactions I hid behind my father-in-law's pict- 
 ure ; arid when the necessity for any secrecy had 
 passed away, I was so used to my ' safe,' that I pre- 
 ferred it to any other. When your father died, Ray, 
 you were only six years old ; Briffault was at its best 
 then ; I made the most of every dollar from it for 
 I was determined you should have money enough to 
 gild over the faults of your forefathers. I intended 
 to tell you every thing when you came of age, but 
 Jarvey said, * Be patient ; there is going to be a great 
 war. Briffault is full of enthusiasms ; he will waste 
 it all on them.' I was patient ; and when you came 
 home and married Cassia, I was more than ever in- 
 clined to patience. Never, indeed, until this hour 
 have I felt, Ray, that I could trust you with so large 
 a sum of money. Often your embarrassments troub- 
 led me, but I always told myself, ' What he has is 
 sufficient to throw away.' ' : 
 
 "You were quite right. I should only have 
 sinned the more, and wasted the more. Have you 
 any plans for the use of so much money ? " 
 
 " Surely I have. Much of it belongs to BrifFault. 
 
THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE. 295 
 
 You say the land is worn out. Bali ! There is land 
 for generations unborn. The swamp is a great 
 fortune. I want you to clear it, and cultivate it. 
 Souda knows the old hands. See them, and ask 
 them to come home. Make the cabins clean, com- 
 fortable homes for them. The work will be hard 
 and dangerous ; tell them so, and pay them in accord- 
 ance. When that great tangle of trees is cut down, 
 with its rotting underwood and mildewed grasses, 
 we shall have sunshine, and we shall have no fever. 
 The refuse of its rich vegetation will renew your old 
 corn and cotton land. The lumber alone will doubly 
 pay for the clearing. I know, for Jarvey says it is 
 so ; and besides, I think it will be a good work, a 
 great work, to make a noisome, pestilential swamp 
 wave with corn and blossom with cotton." 
 
 Ray caught the idea with all the warmth of 
 madam's enthusiasm on it. 
 
 " I think so, too," he cried, with animation ; and 
 he discussed the scheme with all his heart in it. As 
 for madam, her face kindled as she talked, and she 
 looked almost like a young woman. When the 
 swamp had been fully discussed, she turned to Ray, 
 with a fresh and tenderer look on her face. 
 
 " Then something must be done at once to please 
 Cassia. I want Briffault to be made beautiful for 
 her. Open the top drawer in my secretary, and you 
 
THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 will find a large envelope, marked ' Briffault.' That 
 is it. Now look at the design. It is drawn by an 
 excellent architect the young man who accompa- 
 nied Jarvey on his last visit. This little drawing- 
 room and conservatory, with the rooms above, ] 
 intended for Mary's own use ; this wing for the 
 boys. Cassia will not like to change now, but there 
 is a sitting-room added to her suite, and a veranda at 
 the west side. And, Kay, all that painters and up- 
 holsterers can do to make the home fair must be 
 done. I spoiled the pretty things you bought her at 
 your marriage. I will gladly give her, in atonement 
 for the wrong, a hundredfold. The house is for 
 Cassia. Spend generously upon it. O, Ray, what a 
 good woman she is! No dwelling-place can be too 
 beautiful for her." 
 
 In a few days after this conversation the Briffault 
 premises were full of mechanics plasterers, brick- 
 layers, carpenters, whitewashes, etc. and the long 
 rows of cabins were put in comfortable order. They 
 stood face to face, arid were deeply shaded by a row 
 of large live oaks, from which hung, in long-un- 
 trimmed luxuriance, waving banners of gray moss. 
 Madam sat at her window, and watched the repairs 
 going on, until the little dwellings glinted white 
 as snow through their green awnings of leaves and 
 moss. 
 
THE SECRET OF THE PICTURE. 297 
 
 In the meantime Souda had communicated with 
 all the Briffault servants within her reach, and Ray 
 met them at her house. He stood again upon her 
 hearth and watched them enter middle-aged men, 
 whom he had known in their youth; young men, 
 with whom lie had played in their boyhood. They 
 looked in Ray's face as children look in a face ; and 
 their instincts said to them, " Trust in him." 
 
 He told them what he wished done; he offered 
 them the wages suitable. He said : 
 
 " You ought to live near your work ; your old 
 cabins have been put in good order ; they are clean 
 and comfortable. Bring your wives and your chil- 
 dren and come home. Boys, you'll be more than 
 welcome ! Madam wished me to tell you so. " 
 
 His pale, handsome face was flushed with emotion, 
 his eyes shone with genuine interest and regard ; 
 there was a true magnetism about Ray ; he touched 
 souls with every man there. They were at a loss 
 to express their love and satisfaction, but it was well 
 enough shown in the eagerness with which the offer 
 was accepted, and in the pleasant anxiety of the 
 question : 
 
 u How soon kin we come home, Mass' Ray ? " 
 
 "It is Thursday, come to-morrow, then you will be 
 ready to attack the swamp on Monday morning." 
 
 So all the next day there was a constant succession 
 
298 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 of arrivals at Briffault little broken-down wagons, 
 full of beds and chairs and tables and black babies. 
 And madam sat long at her window that Friday 
 night, watching the gradual lighting up of a once- 
 familiar spectacle the blaze of the cedar-logs from 
 the big kitchen's open door answered by the same 
 cheerful light from all the open doors on the Quar- 
 ters' Avenue ; the men and women sitting on the 
 steps, chatting and laughing together ; the boys and 
 girls joining their hands in happy rings, and playing 
 and singing under the big trees. 
 
THE FOUND SILVER. 299 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE FOUND SILVER. 
 
 " He did not speak. He turned 
 
 And looked upon me. How that strange look burned 
 Its image on my soul so sad, so sweet, 
 So awful ! there I sank down at His feet. 
 But he made answer low and tenderly 
 4 The bitterness of death behind thee lies, 
 And not before. Henceforth shall mysteries 
 Of heavenly love be with thee from the lauds 
 Of light. The chamber built for me of old 
 Was given to another; but, behold! 
 This night I come I come whose right it is.' 
 
 Thus, more than Conqueror, 
 He entered. As his fragrant garments swept 
 The threshold of my house, the inner door 
 Flew open for my Lord. A voice, that wept 
 In that lone chamber of my heart, was stilled 
 Forever at his entrance. Music filled 
 The house, and light, and peace." 
 
 VHEN this change in affairs began at Briffault, 
 John was in New York looking for Gloria, 
 who was yet unfound ; and, at madam's request, noth- 
 ing was said to him about it. 
 
 " If Gloria ever comes back, I want her to come in 
 
300 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 a mood thankful for the home she flung away. Brif- 
 fault rebuilt and refurnished, and with a full treas- 
 ury, might be a temptation ; and I will not buy her 
 return," said madam; and Kay and Cassia thought 
 the decision a wise one. 
 
 So when John came back to Texas, about the end 
 of October, he was very much astonished. He went 
 direct from Galveston to Briffault, for he was long- 
 ing to see Cassia and the children, as well as Ray and 
 madam. 
 
 It was an exquisite afternoon, and he was on 
 horseback riding leisurely along the familiar bridle- 
 path. On that side of the swamp by which he en- 
 tered it nothing had yet been touched. The cedars 
 and the palmas held there still their grim vigils. 
 Yast pecans, cotton-woods, sycamores, hickory, and 
 mulberry trees were tied together by inextricable 
 tangles of grape-vines. Plums were bending under 
 their sour loads; and through the almost impene- 
 trable brushwood slipped the narrow black bayous, 
 the homes of the alligator and the water snake. 
 But when he got toward the side nearest to the 
 house a singular clamor gradually gathered round 
 him. He could not understand it, until he came 
 suddenly upon a clearing and a group of nearly 
 twenty men wielding big axes, while their captain 
 a gigantic middle-aged Ethiopian led them in the 
 
THE FOUND SILVER. 301 
 
 improvisions with which the happy Negro laborer 
 always lightens toil : 
 
 " ' Gwine to cut down de tree, gwine to cut down de big tree, 
 Gwine to swing de ax around de big trunk ! 
 
 What de little burd do den ? 
 
 Gwine to let de sunshine in ! de bright sunshine 1 
 Gwine to plant de cotton seed, and de corn seed! 
 Swing de ax, boys ! Swing away I Swing away, boys! ' " 
 
 Most of the men at work belonged to the class- 
 meeting held at Souda's ; and they recognized John 
 with a ringing shout. They flung down their axes 
 and gathered round him with exclamations of delight 
 and interrogation : 
 
 " Dat you, Mass' John ? " 
 
 " When you come ? " 
 
 "Whar you been?" 
 
 " What you seen ? " 
 
 "What you got?" 
 
 " Gwine to hab class-meetiV 'gain ? " 
 
 " Gwine to preach next Sunday, Mass' John ? " 
 
 " Gwine to stay at home now, Mass' John ? " 
 
 " Gwine to see Miss Cassia?" 
 
 These and a dozen other questions, equally child-like 
 and happy, met him. Every step of his way was 
 now a new astonishment ; but the feeling was con- 
 
 ' O 
 
 siderably increased when he reached the house, for 
 he could scarcely recognize it, amid its angles and 
 
302 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 turrets and gables, its additional wing, and its con- 
 servatory. True, all was yet in an unfinished state, 
 and painters, glaziers, and gardeners were hard at 
 work ; while the galleries were full of boxes and 
 much household debris. 
 
 As soon as he entered the big hall he heard Cassia 
 laughing happily, and he followed her voice and 
 found her, with Ray and Mary, superintending the 
 unpacking of the new furniture. She turned at his 
 step with a radiant face, and then Ray turned, and very 
 soon every child on the place knew that Uncle John 
 had come home. A wonderful evening followed, 
 and at least three hours of it were spent in madam's 
 room. It was after midnight when they parted, and 
 yet there had been so much to tell that every subject 
 seemed to be only half discussed. 
 
 But no change in Briffault was, in John's opinion, so 
 remarkable as the change in Ray. The grace of God 
 makes the true, fine gentleman. To Ray it had imparted 
 that delicate consideration for others which is the best 
 politeness, and which nothing but a good heart can 
 teach. He looked much younger ; he was calm, gen tie, 
 and thoughtful for every person's comfort and right. 
 Into the work of renovating his home, and into the 
 enterprise of redeeming the Briffault swamp, he had 
 entered with an eager enthusiasm. All day long he 
 could be seen riding between the house and the 
 
THE FOUND SILVER. 303 
 
 swamp ; his influence was felt every-where, and the 
 workmen were glad of his oversight and proud of his 
 praise. 
 
 " I am so happy, John," he said, " so happy ! I 
 never dreamed that life could be so worth living." 
 They were riding in the fields together, and John 
 smiled brightly back, and began to sing, 
 
 " ' Praise God, from whom all blessings flow I ' " 
 
 In spite of his anxiety about Gloria, John could 
 not help taking an active share in the pleasant, hope- 
 ful life at Briffault. A late youth seemed to have 
 come to Ray and Cassia ; they were as much pleased 
 with their altered home and their new furniture as if 
 they were just going to housekeeping. It took John 
 and Ray and Cassia, and sometimes all the children, 
 to unpack each piece. There was a family cabinet 
 council about the arrangement of every room and 
 the hanging of every picture. So John found it very 
 delightful to be at Briffault, and when there he al- 
 ways took his afternoon cup of tea with madam, who 
 had now a sincere liking for him and a great interest 
 in his company. 
 
 The change in her was almost as great as that in 
 Ray, but it had been a far more gradual one, and 
 was, therefore, less remarkable. Ever after that night 
 years ago when Cassia had sung to her "The 
 
304 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 Man at the Gate," there had been an almost imper- 
 ceptible uplifting of her nature. As she began to know 
 Cassia, and to live much among the children, her soul 
 entered into an atmosphere favorable to the growth of 
 good instincts, as sunshine is to vegetation. Then 
 she began to love to love even the one who had 
 wronged and betrayed her to love as God loves 
 sinners, while they are sinners ; and love of this un- 
 selfish character is the destroyer of all egotisms. It 
 enters into the last asylum, and breaks the last idol ; 
 and when the heart has been thus disciplined, it has 
 been prepared for an eternal love. Madam was 
 nearer to the kingdom of God than she knew, or 
 even dared to hope. 
 
 As Christmas approached John became very un- 
 easy about Gloria. He had written frequently to her, 
 but had only received in return two little formal 
 notes, whose excessive courtesy only half-veiled the 
 deep offense she nursed. He was beginning to think 
 of going back to New York, beginning to fear that 
 he had made a mistake, and was in danger of sacri- 
 ficing the dear rebellious soul to his own pride. But 
 Cassia begged him to delay the journey until after 
 Christmas. She was not fully in John's confidence ; 
 indeed, he had told no one of the last move to which 
 Gloria's contradictions had driven him, and so Cassia 
 urged her desire with unusual earnestness. 
 
THE FOUND SILVER. 305 
 
 "Madam is going to have a real old-time Christmas, 
 and I am sure every one will miss you, John ; even 
 the servants are calculating on a ' big preachin' ' from 
 you. I do not think you ought to go unless Gloria 
 is more to you than every other soul and every other 
 duty. O dear ; I am sorry I said that, John. It 
 sounds ill-natured, but it isn't heart-deep, dear." 
 
 " I know that, Cassia ; and yon shall have your will 
 this time. I will not return to New York until after 
 the New Year." 
 
 It might be supposed that the noise and confusion 
 incident to all these changes would seriously annoy 
 and weary madam ; but they did not. She took an 
 active interest in every thing done on the place. On 
 two occasions, with Ray and Cassia's help, she even 
 went down stairs to look at the newly-furnished 
 rooms. In the Negro quarters there was a constant, 
 hubbub from dawn till dark. Madam watched them 
 from her windows. The women washed under the 
 trees ; they laughed and chattered and sang and 
 quarreled constantly. Madam saw and heard every 
 thing ; sometimes she interfered in their disputes ; 
 sometimes she sent them a compliment about their 
 fine washing, or an advice about their children. There 
 were nearly thirty children, and their high, shrill 
 voices were never quiet. Gradually they got into the 
 
 habit of u gwine to de ole madam " when any thing 
 20 
 
306 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 wronged or troubled them ; and their funny ways 
 and speeches passed many an hour pleasantly to her. 
 She seemed to take in new life from all these new 
 sources ; she tired herself happily and thoroughly, 
 and had long, deep, restful sleeps, which were of the 
 greatest service and comfort. 
 
 The day before Christmas was to be a high day. 
 Madam was as excited about it as any of the chil- 
 dren. Every one on the place was to receive a pres- 
 ent from her own hand ; and the presents were piled 
 up ready on a large table in her room, all neatly 
 folded and directed. Souda had been at Briffault for 
 three days helping her ; and Souda's very presence 
 made a kind of holiday for madam. And all of 
 Souda's household also, even to old Jane, were back 
 at " the place " for the festival, and the Quarters' 
 Avenue was like a Negro fair. But when the Negro 
 is crowded he is happy ; his cabin can always hold 
 " one more." 
 
 It was a gloriously fine day ; the sky blue, the sun- 
 shine warm, the fig-trees still shady, the live oaks 
 green as ever, here and there a rose or an oleander in 
 bloom. Early in the morning the children went 
 shouting off to the swamp, to cut mistletoe and ce- 
 dar and the wonderful scarlet yapon berries. At 
 noon they came back loaded with such treasures ; and 
 then the decoration of the house and the cabins began. 
 
THE FOUND SILVER. 307 
 
 Souda had persuaded madam to sleep a little, but 
 when the sun began to wester low she brought her 
 tea, and spoke to her about dressing for the cere- 
 mony. 
 
 " I wants you fur to wear de finest fings what 
 you'se got, madam. Some ob de young folks hab 
 neber seen you dat way, and-Fse kind ob sot my 
 heart on dressin' you like you'se self fur dem." 
 
 The idea pleased madam. Still shrewd and quick 
 on all business matters, she had become in other re- 
 spects very child-like, and the thought of dressing 
 elegantly for the astonishment and delight of these 
 " new time " young people quite interested her. As 
 she drank her tea she watched Souda take from her 
 wardrobe many rich dresses, but, after a good deal of 
 happy consultation, a robe of pale, pearl-colored satin 
 was chosen. All defects of fit were hidden by a 
 point of white Lama lace, fastened with a brooch of 
 pearls. Madam's snow-white hair was still plentiful, 
 and Souda arranged it high, with a bow of lace and 
 an antique comb set with pearls. Her small feet 
 were beautifully dressed in satin shoes, her hands 
 gloved ; she had pearls in her ears and around her 
 wrists. Leaning on her ivory staff, she stood before 
 her Psyche glass and surveyed herself ; and a pale 
 pink blush flooded her cheeks and made her look al- 
 most young. Just at that moment Cassia entered, 
 
308 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFATJLT. 
 
 and she gazed at her with admiration, and took the 
 spray of mistletoe and yapon from her own hair and 
 pinned it on madam's breast, and kissed her fondly 
 and proudly. 
 
 All were then in their own rooms dressing, or 
 being dressed, and for half an hour there would be a 
 little lull before the happy business of the night be- 
 gan. Cassia took a last look through her parlors ; a 
 last look at the beautifully arranged dinner-table, 
 spread for the first time in the freshly decorated 
 dining saloon. How pretty was the new china, and 
 the new glittering silver, and the new bright crystal ! 
 As she stood admiring them she heard the approach 
 of a carriage, but it scarcely gave her a thought 
 carriages and wagons and buggies had been coming 
 and going all day, with packages and messages and 
 invitations. She turned slowly and went to the door. 
 A woman was ascending the steps, and in a moment 
 she divined who it was. She ran eagerly forward, 
 holding out both hands, and crying, softly : 
 
 " O Gloria ! Gloria ! " 
 
 " I am unhappy and lonely ; I am miserable, Cas- 
 sia ! I want my home, and my own people. I want 
 John. O can you all forgive and love me ? " 
 
 " We all love you dearly. We have all been long- 
 ing for you. What a joy this is ! O, darling, how 
 good of you to come this night ! " 
 
THE FOUND SILVER. 309 
 
 " Can you hide me a little while, Cassia ? I want 
 to rest and dress myself before I see any one." 
 
 "In my own sitting-room. Tea is there now. I 
 have just had a cup. Come, dear ! " 
 
 She led her up stairs, and, in its comfort and seclu- 
 sion, told her of the festival madam was keeping ; 
 and, upon consideration, it was thought wisest for 
 Gloria not to visit her until the excitement of the 
 night was over. 
 
 u But John need not wait, Gloria," added Cassia ; 
 " he is longing to see you, I know. In a little while 
 I shall send him here. You will be ready ? " 
 
 11 Yes ; I shall be ready." 
 
 Half an hour after this conversation Ray and John 
 were standing together on the parlor hearth-rug be- 
 fore the blazing fire. The children were gradually 
 gathering in the room from their nursery, their white 
 dresses and gay sashes making, amid its festal greens 
 the prettiest bits of moving color. Cassia entered 
 with a crystal bowl full of grapes in her hand. She 
 went up to John with a smile, and said : 
 
 " Go, bring Gloria down. She is in my sitting- 
 room, and it is time she was here." 
 
 John thought she meant his pet niece, a little lady 
 of four years old, and the darling of his heart. 
 
 " Is she asleep ? " he asked. " Is it fair to awaken 
 her?" 
 
310 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 " I don't think she is asleep. Go and see." 
 
 His own Gloria had been in his thoughts all day, 
 but just at that moment he had forgotten her. He 
 thought only of the little curly-headed child who bore 
 her name. When he pushed aside the door he was 
 met by the woman whom most of all he longed to 
 see. He opened his arms, and she hid herself in that 
 loving embrace. 
 
 " I arn come, John," she whispered ; " come to you 
 forever ! Will you forgive me ? Will you love me 
 still ? I never want to miss you again. I have been 
 so wretched, John." 
 
 O the sweet, broken words of contrition and par- 
 don and love ! They cannot be translated into speech. 
 What was it Peter said to Christ ? What was it 
 Christ said to Peter in that first meeting after the de- 
 nial and the resurrection ? No pen has written it ; 
 no pen can write such emotions. But they who have 
 been forgiven, and they who have forgiven they 
 know. 
 
 John lingered so long that Kay noticed the delay ; 
 and Cassia said : 
 
 " Do go, my love, and see what is the matter." 
 
 And O, how bright her face was, and what a loving 
 smile played around her calm lips, and how she trem- 
 bled with joy, when she saw Gloria come into the 
 room leaning upon her brother and upon John 
 
THE FOUND SILVEB. 311 
 
 Ray's eyes full of happy tears ; John as proud and 
 as glad as a bridegroom. 
 
 After dinner Ray and Cassia, with their two eldest 
 children, Mary and Richard, went up to madam's 
 room; but John stayed with Gloria. Then was 
 heard the merry ring of the banjo, and the music of 
 the violin, and the joyous singing of many voices, as 
 the people approached and massed themselves on the 
 steps and on the verandas. And one by one, accord- 
 ing to their age, they went up to madam's room 
 from 'Zekiel, who was nearly a hundred years old, to 
 little Afra, who was a baby in her mother's arms. 
 
 Every one had the present most wished for; and 
 to every one was given a small sum of money. The 
 reception lasted nearly three hours, but madam bore 
 up wonderfully, and to most of the old servants she 
 said a few kind words, and gave them her hand. 
 Never any queen had a more loyal and loving levee. 
 Negroes are greatly impressed by magnificent cloth- 
 ing and fine surroundings. The beautiful old lady, 
 lying on the crimson couch, dressed in pale satin and 
 fine lace and gleaming pearls, seemed to them a 
 mistress to be very proud of. That night no one 
 had any words or any memories but kind ones. 
 They had forgotten her faults, as children forget the 
 reproofs of a parent. 
 
 "She wear de pure satin dress, and de pure pearls, 
 
312 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 arid de white kid gloves on her hands ; and she give 
 her hand even to poor ole 'Zekiel." 
 
 u Dar aint any ladies like de ole madam dese days ! 
 Miss Cassia, she's purty well, but de ole madam. 
 A7 / Miss Cassia kaint come anigh her ! " 
 
 u Madam was de one to make de hands stir 'roun' ; 
 she brought the dolla's out ob de groun'. Mass 
 Paul, Mass' Rich, Mass' Ray, all ob dem bow down to 
 de bows on madam's shoes. Mighty clever 'ooman 
 de ole madam." 
 
 " Whar you see fine ole lady like Madam Briffault 
 dese days ? Kaint find 'em. Look at her snow-white 
 hair, all a-fixed up wid de pearls, and her bright eyes, 
 and de pink rose on her cheeks, and de little hands, 
 what you'se most 'shamed to touch wid your big 
 black paws ! I'se proud ob de Briffaults, I is ! " 
 
 " Mighty fine ole fambly ! Talk ob de Wheelers, 
 now ! Dey's nowhar ! Oder day I seen Madam 
 Wheeler in a caliker dress a-countin' ob de eggs. 
 Lo' a' mighty ! You'd live a fousand years 'fore 
 you'd see Madam Briffault con'scend herself dat 
 way." 
 
 Fortunately for madam, as soon as her last visitor 
 was gone, she fell into the profound sleep of healthy 
 weariness. The happy tumult of the festival, the 
 tapping of the children at her door, the running up 
 and down, the songs and chatter and laughter, dis- 
 
TUB FOUND SILVER. 313 
 
 turbed her not. With hands lightly clasped upon 
 her breast, she lay in her satin and lace and pearls, 
 and slept, as sweetly unconscious of them as if she 
 had been a babe. An hour of such deep slumber 
 quite refreshed her. She opened her eyes with a 
 smile, and put down her hand to Souda, who was 
 sitting watchfully patient on the floor by her side. 
 
 When her chocolate was made and her fine ap- 
 parel removed, she said : 
 
 "Now, Souda, you must go to the quarters. I 
 know the people will not be really happy until they 
 get you among them." 
 
 And as madam would not be disobeyed in this 
 matter, Souda drew her couch to the window over- 
 looking the cabins, and left her. But as she passed 
 the parlor she called Cassia out, and said : 
 
 " Madam 'sists on me gwine 'mong de people dis 
 night, Miss Cassia, and I thought may be some ob de 
 little chillen like fur to stay awhile wid her. She's 
 done had her sleep and seems mighty peart-like." 
 
 Cassia told her of Gloria's return, and asked if she 
 thought it safe to allow her to visit madam that night. 
 
 "Course its safe. Joy neber hurted any one, Miss 
 Cassia. IVe heard say some folks die wid it. Dat's 
 all foolishness! Tell Miss Gloria to go to da 
 madam; we'se got no time to tarry 'bout doin' de 
 right fing." 
 
314 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 Without doubt Gloria was glad of the permission. 
 She went quickly to the well-known door and 
 knocked, the sharp tap, tap, tap that had always 
 been her signal. Madam recognized it at once, and 
 hope sprang up in her heart. 
 
 " Who is that ? " she asked, eagerly. 
 
 " It is Gloria, dear grandma." 
 
 " Come in, my child ! " 
 
 And Gloria fell down at her side and kissed her, 
 and the words of her love and repentance were min- 
 gled with the words of her welcome and her forgive- 
 ness. In an hour Kay and Cassia and John joined 
 them, and they sat and talked together until Souda 
 came back, " singing happy," to put madam to rest ; 
 but not to sleep. Souda lay down on her pallet 
 at madam's feet and slept heavily ; but madam was 
 almost supernatural ly awake. Her whole life was 
 visibly present to her ; she remembered people and 
 events, long, long forgotten ; and hour after hour she 
 communed with her heart upon her bed and was 
 still, while God spoke to her. Many things in that 
 solemn night season he brought to her remembrance, 
 until a great wave of gratitude swept all other con- 
 sciousness away, and she began to praise him because 
 of his goodness to Ray and to Gloria, and to her 
 faithful friend and handmaid, Souda ; and even 
 while she was thus praying for others, her heart 
 
THE FOUND SILVER. 315 
 
 melted, and, bursting into a flood of tears, she 
 moaned out : 
 
 " Bless me, even me, O my Father ! " 
 
 What prayer like that has ever been unanswered 
 since the beginning of time ? 
 
 When she awoke in the morning her first thought 
 was: 
 
 t% O, I have had such a blessed dream." 
 
 But the joy and peace in her soul was a far more 
 blessed reality. She lay all day in a kind of raptur- 
 ous trance, too exhausted physically to answer any 
 one, except by a smile, or the clasp of a finger; but 
 she was supremely happy. She heard Ray and John 
 come in and out, and Gloria talking to Cassia in a 
 low voice about her life in New York ; and at night, 
 she heard jubilant snatches of song from the kitchen, 
 where Souda was holding " a big prayer-meetin'," 
 and singing her favorite spiritual with triumphant 
 variations : 
 
 " ' De Great Householder done find de silver, 
 
 Joy among de angels 'way up in Zion I 
 Find de piece ob silver hidin' in de corner, 
 Light de can'le, find dat piece ob silver, hidin' in de corner, 
 
 Joy among de angels 'way up in Zion ! 
 
 Joy among de angels 1 Hallalulah 1 
 
 Joy among de angels 1 Hallalulah ! 
 
 Joy among de angels, 'way up in Zion I ' " 
 
316 THE LOST SILVER OF BKIFFAULT. 
 
 But far better and sweeter than the fervor of active 
 joy was the tranquil bliss in which, upon the very 
 border-land of being, her soul rested : 
 
 " And gave thaoks for the weakness that made her lie 
 
 So helpless and calm for awhile ; 
 While the noise of the feasting went gladly by, 
 
 And she heard it, in dreams, with a smile. 
 
 " sweet is the slumber wherewith the King 
 
 Oft causes the weary to rest; 
 For sleeping, they hear the angels sing, 
 
 They lean on the Master's breast." 
 
 They were a little fearful for two days that the 
 great effort she had made was to be her last one ; but 
 when the exhaustion consequent upon so much emo- 
 tion was repaired she seemed brighter and stronger 
 than she had been for some time. She took the 
 greatest interest in Gloria's second marriage. It 
 was such a pleasure to her that every trifle con- 
 nected with it was purposely discussed in her 
 room. Gloria was by no means a poor bride ; and as 
 she had brought the furniture of her New York 
 home to Texas, the Preston house soon grew very 
 beautiful under her directing taste. And John drew 
 diagrams of all tlie rooms, and described to madam 
 how every thing was arranged. 
 
 The marriage ceremony took place at Briffault, and 
 madam, exquisitely dressed, stood a few minutes dur- 
 
THE FOUND SILVER. 317 
 
 ing it by the bride's side, looking, as some one said, 
 " like a good fairy." There was no bridal trip on 
 this occasion. John and Gloria went to their beauti- 
 ful home with the bridal bliss in their hearts, and 
 the bridal blessings and good wishes ringing like joy- 
 bells in their ears. It was in the early spring, 
 when the flowers were budding and the trees just 
 green, and the happy birds were building among them. 
 And into the newly garnished rooms they carried 
 marriage hopes undimmed by a single frown or care. 
 
 Once more Souda dressed madam in her beautiful 
 garments when Gloria's first child was christened ; 
 and when the little one was brought home from 
 church Souda laid it in her arms and said, proudly : 
 
 "Miss tflina Briffault ! " 
 
 And madam's eyes snone with love and joy over 
 the pretty baby. Of all the children she had held to 
 her heart this last one seemed to her the sweetest and 
 fairest. She lived to see the willful, selfish Gloria 
 forget herself in her husband and children, and grow 
 daily, at John's side, into a noble Christian woman. 
 She lived to see her greatgrandson, Richard, in a ca- 
 det's uniform, and little Mary blushing by the side of 
 her lover. 
 
 She may be living yet. Amid the renewed happi- 
 ness and prosperity of Briffault it is such a pleasant 
 thing to remember the beautiful old lady, that we 
 
318 THE LOST SILVER OF BRIFFAULT. 
 
 would fain give her, at least in our imagination, a 
 place in it. For when those corner windows shall be 
 dark at night, and when no small, frail hand shall 
 push aside their curtains in the day-time, there will be 
 many sad hearts in Briffault, even though they have 
 a " sure and certain hope " that she has gone 
 
 " To the upper room of our Father's house, 
 Where the feast is spread for the Master's friends, 
 And the song of their victory never ends." 
 
 THK FND.