diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:59 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:59 -0700 |
| commit | f8aff241ce4813f91b5da061b7b9040e994281ed (patch) | |
| tree | 312924eaf0c51f47e31dbedade5af79703f80132 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12452-0.txt | 6000 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12452-h/12452-h.htm | 6081 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12452-8.txt | 6418 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12452-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 124332 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12452-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 128021 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12452-h/12452-h.htm | 6527 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12452.txt | 6418 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12452.zip | bin | 0 -> 124301 bytes |
11 files changed, 31460 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12452-0.txt b/12452-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d950f2c --- /dev/null +++ b/12452-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6000 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12452 *** + +FORT LAFAYETTE + +OR +LOVE AND SECESSION + + +A Novel + +BY BENJAMIN WOOD + + +MDCCCLXII + +1862 + + + + + ----"Whom they please they lay in basest bonds." + _Venice Preserved._ + + * * * * * + + "O, beauteous Peace! + Sweet union of a state! what else but thou + Gives safety, strength, and glory to a people?" + _Thomson._ + + "Oh, Peace! thou source and soul of social life; + Beneath whose calm inspiring influence, + Science his views enlarges, art refines, + And swelling commerce opens all her ports; + Blest be the man divine, who gives us thee!" + _Thomson._ + + + "A peace is of the nature of a conquest; + For then both parties nobly are subdued, + And neither party loser." + _Shakspeare._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +There is a pleasant villa on the southern bank of the James River, a few +miles below the city of Richmond. The family mansion, an old fashioned +building of white stone, surrounded by a spacious veranda, and embowered +among stately elms and grave old oaks, is sure to attract the attention +of the traveller by its picturesque appearance, and the dreamy elegance +and air of comfort that pervade the spot. The volumes of smoke that roll +from the tall chimneys, the wide portals of the hall, flung open as if +for a sign of welcome, the merry chat and cheerful faces of the sable +household, lazily alternating their domestic labors with a sly romp or a +lounge in some quiet nook, these and other traits of the old Virginia +home, complete the picture of hospitable affluence which the stranger +instinctively draws as his gaze lingers on the grateful scene. The house +stands on a wooded knoll, within a bowshot of the river bank, and from +the steps of the back veranda, where creeping flowers form a perfumed +network of a thousand hues, the velvety lawn shelves gracefully down to +the water's edge. + +Toward sunset of one of the early days of April, 1861, a young girl +stood leaning upon the wicket of a fence which separated the garden from +the highway. She stood there dreamily gazing along the road, as if +awaiting the approach of some one who would be welcome when he came. The +slanting rays of the declining sun glanced through the honeysuckles and +tendrils that intertwined among the white palings, and threw a subdued +light upon her face. It was a face that was beautiful in repose, but +that promised to be more beautiful when awakened into animation. The +large, grey eyes were half veiled with their black lashes at that +moment, and their expression was thoughtful and subdued; but ever as the +lids were raised, when some distant sound arrested her attention, the +expression changed with a sudden flash, and a gleam like an electric +fire darted from the glowing orbs. Her features were small and +delicately cut, the nostrils thin and firm, and the lips most +exquisitely molded, but in the severe chiselling of their arched lines +betraying a somewhat passionate and haughty nature. But the rose tint +was so warm upon her cheek, the raven hair clustered with such luxuriant +grace about her brows, and the _petite_ and lithe figure was so +symmetrical at every point, that the impression of haughtiness was lost +in the contemplation of so many charms. + +Oriana Weems, the subject of our sketch, was an orphan. Her father, a +wealthy Virginian, died while his daughter was yet an infant, and her +mother, who had been almost constantly an invalid, did not long survive. +Oriana and her brother, Beverly, her senior by two years, had thus been +left at an early age in the charge of their mother's sister, a maiden +lady of excellent heart and quiet disposition, who certainly had most +conscientiously fulfilled the sacred trust. Oriana had returned but a +twelvemonth before from a northern seminary, where she had gathered up +more accomplishments than she would ever be likely to make use of in the +old homestead; while Beverly, having graduated at Yale the preceding +month, had written to his sister that she might expect him that very +day, in company with his classmate and friend, Arthur Wayne. + +She stood, therefore, at the wicket, gazing down the road, in +expectation of catching the first glimpse of her brother and his friend, +for whom horses had been sent to Richmond, to await their arrival at the +depot. So much was she absorbed in revery, that she failed to observe a +solitary horseman who approached from the opposite direction. He plodded +leisurely along until within a few feet of the wicket, when he quietly +drew rein and gazed for a moment in silence upon the unconscious girl. +He was a tall, gaunt man, with stooping shoulders, angular features, +lank, black hair and a sinister expression, in which cunning and malice +combined. He finally urged his horse a step nearer, and as softly as +his rough voice would admit, he bade: "Good evening, Miss Oriana." + +She started, and turned with a suddenness that caused the animal he rode +to swerve. Recovering her composure as suddenly, she slightly inclined +her head and turning from him, proceeded toward the house. + +"Stay, Miss Oriana, if you please." + +She paused and glanced somewhat haughtily over her shoulder. + +"May I speak a word with you?" + +"My aunt, sir, is within; if you have business, I will inform her of +your presence." + +"My business is with you, Miss Weems," and, dismounting, he passed +through the gate and stepped quickly to her side. + +"Why do you avoid me?" + +Her dark eye flashed in the twilight, and she drew her slight form up +till it seemed to gain a foot in height. + +"We do not seek to enlarge our social circle, Mr. Rawbon. You will +excuse me if I leave you abruptly, but the night dew begins to fall." + +She moved on, but he followed and placed his hand gently on her arm. +She shook it off with more of fierceness than dignity, and the man's +eyes fairly sought the ground beneath the glance she gave him. + +"You know that I love you," he said, in a hoarse murmur, "and that's the +reason you treat me like a dog." + +She turned her back upon him, and walked, as if she heard him not, along +the garden path. His brow darkened, and quickening his pace, he stepped +rudely before her and blocked the way. + +"Look you, Miss Weems, you have insulted me with your proud ways time +and time again, and I have borne it tamely, because I loved you, and +because I've sworn that I shall have you. It's that puppy, Harold Hare, +that has stepped in between you and me. Now mark you," and he raised his +finger threateningly, "I won't be so meek with him as I've been with +you." + +The girl shuddered slightly, but recovering, walked forward with a step +so stately and commanding, that Rawbon, bold and angry as he was, +involuntarily made way for her, and she sprang up the steps of the +veranda and passed into the hall. He stood gazing after her for a +moment, nervously switching the rosebush at his side with his heavy +horsewhip; then, with a muttered curse, he strode hastily away, and +leaping upon his horse, galloped furiously down the road. + +Seth Rawbon was a native of Massachusetts, but for some ten years +previously to the date at which our tale commences, he had been mostly a +resident of Richmond, where his acuteness and active business habits had +enabled him to accumulate an independent fortune. His wealth and +vigorous progressive spirit had given him a certain degree of influence +among the middle classes of the community, but his uncouth manner, and a +suspicion that he was not altogether free from the degradation of +slave-dealing, had, to his great mortification and in spite of his +persistent efforts, excluded him from social intercourse with the +aristocracy of the Old Dominion. He was not a man, however, to give way +to obstacles, and with characteristic vanity and self-reliance, he had, +shortly after her return from school, greatly astonished the proud +Oriana with a bold declaration of love and an offer of his hand and +fortune. Not intimidated by a sharp and decidedly ungracious refusal, he +had at every opportunity advocated his hopeless suit, and with so much +persistence and effrontery, that the object of his unwelcome passion had +been goaded from indifference to repugnance and absolute loathing. +Harold Hare, whose name he had mentioned with so much bitterness in the +course of the interview we have represented, was a young Rhode Islander, +who had, upon her brother's invitation, sojourned a few weeks at the +mansion some six months previously, while on his way to engage in a +surveying expedition in Western Virginia. He had promised to return in +good time, to join Beverly and his guest, Arthur Wayne, at the close of +their academic labors. + +A few moments after Rawbon's angry departure, the family carriage drove +rapidly up to the hall door, and the next instant Beverly was in his +sister's arms, and had been affectionately welcomed by his +old-fashioned, kindly looking aunt. As he turned to introduce his +friend, Arthur, the latter was gazing with an air of absent admiration +upon the kindled features of Oriana. The two young men were of the same +age, apparently about one-and-twenty; but in character and appearance +they were widely different. Beverly was, in countenance and manner, +curiously like his sister, except that the features were bolder and more +strongly marked. Arthur, on the contrary, was delicate in feature almost +to effeminacy. His brow was pale and lofty, and above the auburn locks +were massed like a golden coronet. His eyes were very large and blue, +with a peculiar softness and sadness that suited well the expression of +thoughtfulness and repose about his lips. He was taller than his friend, +and although well-formed and graceful, was slim and evidently not in +robust health. His voice, as he spoke in acknowledgment of the +introduction, was low and musical, but touched with a mournfulness that +was apparent even in the few words of conventional courtesy that he +pronounced. + +Having thus domiciliated them comfortably in the old hall, we will leave +them to recover from the fatigues of the journey, and to taste of the +plentiful hospitalities of Riverside manor. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Early in the fresh April morning, the party at Riverside manor were +congregated in the hall, doing full justice to Aunt Nancy's substantial +breakfast. + +"Oriana," said Beverly, as he paused from demolishing a well-buttered +batter cake, and handed his cup for a second supply of the fragrant +Mocha, "I will leave it to your _savoir faire_ to transform our friend +Arthur into a thorough southerner, before we yield him back to his Green +Mountains. He is already half a convert to our institutions, and will +give you not half so much trouble as that obstinate Harold Hare." + +She slightly colored at the name, but quietly remarked: + +"Mr. Wayne must look about him and judge from his own observation, not +my arguments. I certainly do not intend to annoy him during his visit, +with political discussions." + +"And yet you drove Harold wild with your flaming harangues, and gave +him more logic in an afternoon ride than he had ever been bored with in +Cambridge in a month." + +"Only when he provoked and invited the assault," she replied, smiling. +"But I trust, Mr. Wayne, that the cloud which is gathering above our +country will not darken the sunshine of your visit at Riverside manor. +It is unfortunate that you should have come at an unpropitious moment, +when we cannot promise you that perhaps there will not be some cold +looks here and there among the townsfolk, to give you a false impression +of a Virginia welcome." + +"Not at all, Oriana; Arthur will have smiles and welcome enough here at +the manor house to make him proof against all the hard looks in +Richmond. I prevailed on him to come at all hazards, and we are bound to +have a good time and don't want you to discourage us; eh, Arthur?" + +"I am but little of a politician, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "although I +take our country's differences much at heart. I shall surely not provoke +discussion with you, like our friend Harold, upon an unpleasant +subject, while you give me _carte blanche_ to enjoy your conversation +upon themes more congenial to my nature." + +She inclined her head with rather more of gravity than the nature of the +conversation warranted, and her lips were slightly compressed as she +observed that Arthur's blue eyes were fixed pensively, but intently, on +her face. + +The meal being over, Oriana and Wayne strolled on the lawn toward the +river bank, while the carriage was being prepared for a morning drive. +They stood on the soft grass at the water's edge, and as Arthur gazed +with a glow of pleasure at the beautiful prospect before him, his fair +companion pointed out with evident pride the many objects of beauty and +interest that were within view on the opposite bank. + +"Are you a sailor, Mr. Wayne? If so, we must have out the boat this +afternoon, and you will find some fairy nooks beyond the bend that will +repay you for exploring them, if you have a taste for a lovely +waterscape. I know you are proud of the grand old hills of your native +State, but we have something to boast of too in our Virginia scenery." + +"If you will be my helmswoman, I can imagine nothing more delightful +than the excursion you propose. But I am inland bred, and must place +myself at the mercy of your nautical experience." + +"Oh, I am a skillful captain, Mr. Wayne, and will make a good sailor of +you before you leave us. Mr. Hare will tell you that I am to be trusted +with the helm, even when the wind blows right smartly, as it sometimes +does even on that now placid stream. But with his memories of the +magnificent Hudson, he was too prone to quiz me about what he called our +pretty rivulet. You know him, do you not?" + +"Oh, well. He was Beverly's college-mate and mine, though somewhat our +senior." + +"And your warm friend, I believe?" + +"Yes, and well worthy our friendship. Somewhat high-tempered and +quick-spoken, but with a heart--like your brother's, Miss Weems, as +generous and frank as a summer day." + +"I do not think him high-tempered beyond the requisites of manhood," she +replied, with something like asperity in her tone. "I cannot endure +your meek, mild mannered men, who seem to forget their sex, and almost +make me long to change my own with them, that their sweet dispositions +may be better placed." + +He glanced at her with a somewhat surprised air, that brought a slight +blush to her cheek; but he seemed unconscious of it, and said, almost +mechanically: + +"And yet, that same high spirit, which you prize so dearly, had, in his +case, almost caused you a severe affliction." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Have you not heard how curiously Beverly's intimacy with Harold was +brought about? And yet it was not likely that he should have told you, +although I know no harm in letting you know." + +She turned toward him with an air of attention, as if in expectation. + +"It was simply this. Not being class-mates, they had been almost +strangers to each other at college, until, by a mere accident, an +argument respecting your Southern institutions led to an angry dispute, +and harsh words passed between them. Being both of the ardent +temperament you so much admire, a challenge ensued, and, in spite of my +entreaty and remonstrance, a duel. Your brother was seriously wounded, +and Harold, shocked beyond expression, knelt by his side as he lay +bleeding on the sward, and bitterly accusing himself, begged his +forgiveness, and, I need not add, received it frankly. Harold was +unremitting in his attentions to your brother during the period of his +illness, and from the day of that hostile meeting, the most devoted +friendship has existed between them. But it was an idle quarrel, Miss +Weems, and was near to have cost you an only brother." + +She remained silent for a few moments, and was evidently affected by the +recital. Then she spoke, softly as if communing with herself: "Harold is +a brave and noble fellow, and I thank God that he did not kill my +brother!" and a bright tear rolled upon her cheek. She dashed it away, +almost angrily, and glancing steadily at Arthur: + +"Do you condemn duelling?" + +"Assuredly." + +"But what would you have men do in the face of insult? Would you not +have fought under the same provocation?" + +"No, nor under any provocation. I hold too sacred the life that God has +given. With God's help, I shall not shed human blood, except in the +strict line of necessity and duty." + +"It is evident, sir, that you hold your own life most sacred," she said, +with a curl of her proud lip that was unmistakable. + +She did not observe the pallor that overspread his features, nor the +expression, not of anger, but of anguish, that settled upon his face, +for she had turned half away from him, and was gazing vacantly across +the river. There was an unpleasant pause, which was broken by the noise +of voices in alarm near the house, the trampling of hoofs, and the +rattle of wheels. + +The carriage had been standing at the door, while Beverly was arranging +some casual business, which delayed him in his rooms. While the +attention of the groom in charge had been attracted by some freak of his +companions, a little black urchin, not over five years of age, had +clambered unnoticed into the vehicle, and seizing the long whip, began +to flourish it about with all his baby strength. The horses, which were +high bred and spirited, had become impatient, and feeling the lash, +started suddenly, jerking themselves free from the careless grasp of the +inattentive groom. The sudden shout of surprise and terror that arose +from the group of idle negroes, startled the animals into a gallop, and +they went coursing, not along the road, but upon the lawn, straight +toward the river bank, which, in the line of their course, was +precipitous and rocky. As Oriana and Arthur turned at the sound, they +beheld the frightened steeds plunging across the lawn, and upon the +carriage seat the little fellow who had caused the mischief was +crouching bewildered and helpless, and screaming with affright. Oriana +clasped her hands, and cried tearfully: + +"Oh! poor little Pomp will be killed!" + +In fact the danger was imminent, for the lawn at that spot merged into a +rocky space, forming a little bluff which overhung the stream some +fifteen, feet. Oriana's hand was laid instinctively upon Arthur's +shoulder, and with the other she pointed, with a gesture of bewildered +anxiety, at the approaching vehicle. Arthur paused only long enough to +understand the situation, and then stepping calmly a few paces to the +left, stood directly in the path of the rushing steeds. + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne! no, no!" cried Oriana, in a tone half of fear and half +supplication; but he stood there unmoved, with the same quiet, mournful +expression that he habitually wore. The horses faltered somewhat when +they became conscious of this fixed, calm figure directly in their +course. They would have turned, but their impetus was too great, and +they swerved only enough to bring the head of the off horse in a line +with Arthur's body. As coolly as if he was taking up a favorite book, +but with a rapid movement, he grasped the rein below the bit with both +hands firmly, and swung upon it with his whole weight. The frightened +animal turned half round, stumbled, and rolled upon his side, his mate +falling upon his knees beside him; the carriage was overturned with a +crash, and little Pompey pitched out upon the greensward, unhurt. + +By this time, Beverly, followed by a crowd of excited negroes, had +reached the spot. + +"How is it, Arthur," said Beverly, placing his hand affectionately on +his friend's shoulder, "are you hurt?" + +"No," he replied, the melancholy look softening into a pleasant smile; +but as he rose and adjusted his disordered dress, he coughed +painfully--the same dry, hacking cough that had often made those who +loved him turn to him with an anxious look. It was evident that his +delicate frame was ill suited to such rough exercise. + +"We shall be cheated out of our ride this morning," said Beverly, "for +that axle has been less fortunate than you, Arthur; it is seriously +hurt." + +They moved slowly toward the house, Oriana looking silently at the grass +as she walked mechanically at her brother's side. When Arthur descended +into the drawing-room, after having changed his soiled apparel, he found +her seated there alone, by the casement, with her brow upon her hand. He +sat down at the table and glanced abstractedly over the leaves of a +scrap-book. Thus they sat silently for a quarter hour, when she arose, +and stood beside him. + +"Will you forgive me, Mr. Wayne?" + +He looked up and saw that she had been weeping. The haughty curl of the +lip and proud look from the eye were all gone, and her expression was of +humility and sorrow. She held out her hand to him with an air almost of +entreaty. He raised it respectfully to his lips, and with the low, +musical voice, sadder than ever before, he said: + +"I am sorry that you should grieve about anything. There is nothing to +forgive. Let us forget it." + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne, how unkind I have been, and how cruelly I have wronged +you!" + +She pressed his hand between both her palms for a moment, and looked +into his face, as if studying to read if some trace of resentment were +not visible. But the blue eyes looked down kindly and mournfully upon +her, and bursting into tears, she turned from him, and hurriedly left +the room. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +The incident related in the preceding chapter seemed to have effected a +marked change in the demeanor of Oriana toward her brother's guest. She +realized with painful force the wrong that her thoughtlessness, more +than her malice, had inflicted on a noble character, and it required all +of Arthur's winning sweetness of disposition to remove from her mind the +impression that she stood, while in his presence, in the light of an +unforgiven culprit. They were necessarily much in each other's company, +in the course of the many rambles and excursions that were devised to +relieve the monotony of the old manor house, and Oriana was surprised to +feel herself insensibly attracted toward the shy and pensive man, whose +character, so far as it was betrayed by outward sign, was the very +reverse of her own impassioned temperament. She discovered that the +unruffled surface covered an under-current of pure thought and exquisite +feeling, and when, on the bosom of the river, or in the solitudes of +the forest, his spirit threw off its reserve under the spell of nature's +inspiration, she felt her own impetuous organization rebuked and held in +awe by the simple and quiet grandeur that his eloquence revealed. + +One afternoon, some two weeks after his arrival at the Riverside manor, +while returning from a canter in the neighborhood, they paused upon an +eminence that overlooked a portion of the city of Richmond. There, upon +an open space, could be seen a great number of the citizens assembled, +apparently listening to the harangue of an orator. The occasional cheer +that arose from the multitude faintly reached their ears, and that mass +of humanity, restless, turbulent and excited, seemed, even at that +distance, to be swayed by some mighty passion. + +"Look, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "at this magnificent circle of gorgeous +scenery, that you are so justly proud of, that lies around you in the +golden sunset like a dream of a fairy landscape. See how the slanting +rays just tip the crest of that distant ridge, making it glow like a +coronet of gold, and then, leaping into the river beneath; spangle its +bosom with dazzling sheen, save where a part rests in the purple shadow +of the mountain. Look to the right, and see how those crimson clouds +seem bending from heaven to kiss the yellow corn-fields that stretch +along the horizon. And at your feet, the city of Richmond extends along +the valley." + +"We admit the beauty of the scene and the accuracy of the description," +said Beverly, "but, for my part, I should prefer the less romantic view +of some of Aunt Nancy's batter-cakes, for this ride has famished me." + +"Now look below," continued Arthur, "at that swarm of human beings +clustering together like angry bees. As we stand here gazing at the +glorious pageant which nature spreads out before us, one might suppose +that only for some festival of rejoicing or thanksgiving would men +assemble at such an hour and in such a scene. But what are the beauties +of the landscape, bathed in the glories of the setting-sun, to them? +They have met to listen to words of passion and bitterness, to doctrines +of strife, to denunciations and criminations against their fellow-men. +And, doubtless, a similar scene of freemen invoking the spirit of +contention that we behold yonder in that pleasant valley of the Old +Dominion, is being enacted at the North and at the South, at the East +and at the West, all over the length and breadth of our country. The +seeds of discord are being carefully and persistently gathered and +disseminated, and on both sides, these erring mortals will claim to be +acting in the name of patriotism. Beverly, do you surmise nothing +ominous of evil in that gathering?" + +"Ten to one, some stirring news from Charleston. We must ride over after +supper, Arthur, and learn the upshot of it." + +"And I will be a sybil for the nonce," said Oriana, with a kindling eye, +"and prophecy that Southern cannon have opened upon Sumter." + +In the evening, in despite of a threatening sky, Arthur and Beverly +mounted their horses and galloped toward Richmond. As they approached +the city, the rain fell heavily and they sought shelter at a wayside +tavern. Observing the public room to be full, they passed into a private +parlor and ordered some slight refreshment. In the adjoining tap-room +they could hear the voices of excited men, discussing some topic of +absorbing interest. Their anticipations were realized, for they quickly +gathered from the tenor of the disjointed conversation that the +bombardment of Fort Sumter had begun. + +"I'll bet my pile," said a rough voice, "that the gridiron bunting won't +float another day in South Carolina." + +"I'll go you halves on that, hoss, and you and I won't grow greyer nor +we be, before Old Virginny says 'me too.'" + +"Seth Rawbon, you'd better be packing your traps for Massachusetts. +She'll want you afore long." + +"Boys," ejaculated the last-mentioned personage, with an oath, "I left +off being a Massachusetts man twelve years ago. I'm with _you_, and you +know it. Let's drink. Boys, here's to spunky little South Carolina; may +she go in and win! Stranger, what'll you drink?" + +"I will not drink," replied a clear, manly voice, which had been silent +till then. + +"And why will you not drink?" rejoined the other, mocking the dignified +and determined tone in which the invitation was refused. + +"It is sufficient that I will not." + +"Mayhap you don't like my sentiment?" + +"Right." + +"Look you, Mr. Harold Hare, I know you well, and I think we'll take you +down from your high horse before you're many hours older in these parts. +Boys, let's make him drink to South Carolina." + +"Who is he, anyhow?" + +"He's an abolitionist; just the kind that'll look a darned sight more +natural in a coat of tar and feathers. Cut out his heart and you'll find +John Brown's picture there as large as life." + +At the mention of Harold's name, Arthur and Beverly had started up +simultaneously, and throwing open the bar-room door, entered hastily. +Harold had risen from his seat and stood confronting Rawbon with an air +in which anger and contempt were strangely blended. The latter leaned +with awkward carelessness against the counter, sipping a glass of +spirits and water with a malicious smile. + +"You are an insolent scoundrel," said Harold, "and I would horsewhip +you, if you were worth the pains." + +Rawbon looked around and for a second seemed to study the faces of +those about him. Then lazily reaching over toward Harold, he took him by +the arm and drew him toward the counter. + +"Say, you just come and drink to South Carolina." + +The heavy horsewhip in Harold's hand rose suddenly and descended like a +flash. The knotted lash struck Rawbon full in the mouth, splitting the +lips like a knife. In an instant several knives were drawn, and Rawbon, +spluttering an oath through the spurting blood that choked his +utterance, drew a revolver from its holster at his side. + +The entrance of the two young men was timely. They immediately placed +themselves in front of Harold, and Arthur, with his usual mild +expression, looked full in Rawbon's eye, although the latter's pistol +was in a line with his breast. + +"Stand out of the way, you two," shouted Rawbon, savagely. + +"What is the meaning of this, gentlemen?" said Beverly, quietly, to the +excited bystanders, to several of whom he was personally known. + +"Squire Weems," replied one among them, "you had better stand aside. +Rawbon has a lien on that fellow's hide. He's an abolitionist, anyhow, +and ain't worth your interference." + +"He is my very intimate friend, and I will answer for him to any one +here," said Beverly, warmly. + +"I will answer for myself," said Hare, pressing forward. + +"Then answer that!" yelled Rawbon, levelling and shooting with a rapid +movement. But Wayne's quiet eye had been riveted upon him all the while, +and he had thrown up the ruffian's arm as he pulled the trigger. + +Beverly's eyes flashed like live coals, and he sprang at Rawbon's +throat, but the crowd pressed between them, and for a while the utmost +confusion prevailed, but no blows were struck. The landlord, a sullen, +black-browed man, who had hitherto leaned silently on the counter, +taking no part in the fray, now interposed. + +"Come, I don't want no more loose shooting here!" and, by way of +assisting his remark, he took down his double-barrelled shot-gun and +jumped upon the counter. The fellow was well known for a desperate +though not quarrelsome character, and his action had the effect of +somewhat quieting the excited crowd. + +"Boys," continued he, "it's only Yankee against Yankee, anyhow; if +they're gwine to fight, let the stranger have fair play. Here stranger, +if you're a friend of Squire Weems, you kin have a fair show in my +house, I reckon, so take hold of this," and taking a revolver from his +belt, he passed it to Beverly, who cocked it and slipped it into +Harold's hand. Rawbon, who throughout the confusion had been watching +for the opportunity of a shot at his antagonist, now found himself front +to front with the object of his hate, for the bystanders had +instinctively drawn back a space, and even Wayne and Weems, willing to +trust to their friend's coolness and judgment, had stepped aside. + +Harold sighted his man as coolly as if he had been aiming at a squirrel. +Rawbon did not flinch, for he was not wanting in physical courage, but +he evidently concluded that the chances were against him, and with a +bitter smile, he walked slowly toward the door. Turning at the +threshold, he scowled for a moment at Harold, as if hesitating whether +to accept the encounter. + +"I'll fix you yet," he finally muttered, and left the room. A few +moments afterward, the three friends were mounted and riding briskly +toward Riverside manor. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Oriana, after awaiting till a late hour the return of her brother and +his friend, had retired to rest, and was sleeping soundly when the party +entered the house, after their remarkable adventure. She was therefore +unconscious, upon descending from her apartment in the morning, of the +addition to her little household. Standing upon the veranda, she +perceived what she supposed to be her brother's form moving among the +shrubbery in the garden. She hastened to accost him, curious to +ascertain the nature of the excitement in Richmond on the preceding +afternoon. Great was her astonishment and unfeigned her pleasure, upon +turning a little clump of bushes, to find herself face to face with +Harold Hare. + +He had been lost in meditation, but upon seeing her his brow lit up as a +midnight sky brightens when a passing cloud has unshrouded the full +moon. With a cry of joy she held out both her hands to him, which he +pressed silently for a moment as he gazed tenderly upon the upturned, +smiling face, and then, pushing back the black tresses, he touched her +white forehead with his lips. + +Arthur Wayne was looking out from his lattice above, and his eye chanced +to turn that way at the moment of the meeting. He started as if struck +with a sudden pang, and his cheek, always pale, became of an ashen hue. +Long he gazed with labored breath upon the pair, as if unable to realize +what he had seen; then, with a suppressed moan, he sank into a chair, +and leaned his brow heavily upon his hand. Thus for half an hour he +remained motionless; it was only after a second summons that he roused +himself and descended to the morning meal. + +At the breakfast table Oriana was in high spirits, and failed to observe +that Arthur was more sad than usual. Her brother, however, was +preoccupied and thoughtful, and even Harold, although happy in the +society of one he loved, could not refrain from moments of abstraction. +Of course the adventure of the preceding night was concealed from +Oriana, but it yet furnished the young men with matter for reflection; +and, coupled with the exciting intelligence from South Carolina, it +suggested, to Harold especially, a vision of an unhappy future. It was +natural that the thought should obtrude itself of how soon a barrier +might be placed between friends and loved ones, and the most sacred ties +sundered, perhaps forever. + +Miss Randolph, Oriana's aunt, usually reserved and silent, seemed on +this occasion the most inquisitive and talkative of the party. Her +interest in the momentous turn that affairs had taken was naturally +aroused, and she questioned the young men closely as to their view of +the probable consequences. + +"Surely," she remarked, "a nation of Christian people will choose some +alternative other than the sword to adjust their differences." + +"Why, aunt," replied Oriana, with spirit, "what better weapon than the +sword for the oppressed?" + +"I fear there is treason lurking in that little heart of yours," said +Harold, with a pensive smile. + +"I am a true Southerner, Mr. Hare; and if I were a man, I would take +down my father's rifle and march into General Beauregard's camp. We have +been too long anathematized as the vilest of God's creatures, because we +will not turn over to the world's cold charity the helpless beings that +were bequeathed into our charge by our fathers. I would protect my slave +against Northern fanaticism as firmly as I would guard my children from +the interference of a stranger, were I a mother." + +"The government against which you would rebel," said Harold, +"contemplates no interference with your slaves." + +"Why, Mr. Hare," rejoined Oriana, warmly, "we of the South can see the +spirit of abolitionism sitting in the executive chair, as plainly as we +see the sunshine on an unclouded summer day. As well might we change +places with our bondmen, as submit to this deliberate crusade against +our institutions. Mr. Wayne, you are a man not prone to prejudice, I +sincerely believe. Would you from your heart assert that this government +is not hostile to Southern slavery?" + +"I believe you are, on both sides, too sensitive upon the unhappy +subject. You are breeding danger, and perhaps ruin, out of abstract +ideas, and civil war will have laid the country waste before either +party will have awakened to a knowledge that no actual cause of +contention exists." + +"Perhaps," said Beverly, "the mere fact that the two sections are +hostile in sentiment, is the best reason why they should be hostile in +deed, if a separation can only be accomplished by force of arms." + +"And do you really fancy," said Harold, sharply, "that a separation is +possible, in the face of the opposition of twenty millions of loyal +citizens?" + +"Yes," interrupted Oriana, "in the face of the opposing world. We +established our right to self-government in 1776; and in 1861 we are +prepared to prove our power to sustain that right." + +"You are a young enthusiast," said Harold, smiling. "This rebellion will +be crushed before the flowers in that garden shall be touched with the +earliest frost." + +"I think you have formed a false estimate of the movement," remarked +Beverly, gravely; "or rather, you have not fully considered of the +subject." + +"Harold," said Arthur, sadly, "I regret, and perhaps censure, equally +with yourself, the precipitancy of our Carolinian brothers; but this is +not an age, nor a country, where six millions of freeborn people can be +controlled by bayonets and cannon." + +They were about rising from the table, when a servant announced that +some gentlemen desired to speak with Mr. Weems in private. He passed +into the drawing-room, and found himself in the presence of three men, +two of whom he recognized as small farmers of the neighborhood, and the +other as the landlord of a public house. With a brief salutation, he +seated himself beside them, and after a few commonplace remarks, paused, +as if to learn their business with him. + +After a little somewhat awkward hesitation, the publican broke silence. + +"Squire Weems, we've called about a rather unpleasant sort of business" + +"The sooner we transact it, then, the better for all, I fancy, +gentlemen." + +"Just so. Old Judge Weems, your father, was a true Virginian, squire, +and we know you are of the right sort, too." Beverly bowed in +acknowledgment of the compliment. "Squire, the boys hereabouts met down +thar at my house last night, to take into consideration them two +Northern fellows that are putting up with you." + +"Well, sir?" + +"We don't want any Yankee abolitionists in these parts." + +"Mr. Lucas, I have no guests for whom I will not vouch." + +"Can't help that, squire, them chaps is spotted, and the boys have voted +they must leave. As they be your company, us three've been deputized to +call on you and have a talk about it. We don't want to do nothing +unpleasant whar you're consarned, squire." + +"Gentlemen, my guests shall remain with me while they please to honor me +with their company, and I will protect them from violence or indignity +with my life." + +"There's no mistake but you're good grit, squire, but 'tain't no use. +You know what the boys mean to do, they'll do. Now, whar's the good of +kicking up a shindy about it?" + +"No good whatever, Mr. Lucas. You had better let this matter drop. You +know me too well to suppose that I would harbor dangerous characters. It +is my earnest desire to avoid everything that may bring about an +unnecessary excitement, or disturb the peace of the community; and I +shall therefore make no secret of this, interview to my friends. But +whether they remain with me or go, shall be entirely at their option. I +trust that my roof will be held sacred by my fellow-citizens." + +"There'll be no harm done to you or yours, Squire Weems, whatever +happens. But those strangers had better be out of these parts by +to-morrow, sure. Good morning, squire." + +"Good morning, gentlemen." + +And the three worthies took their departure, not fully satisfied whether +the object of their mission had been fulfilled. + +Beverly, anxious to avoid a collision with the wild spirits of the +neighborhood, which would be disagreeable, if not dangerous, to his +guests, frankly related to Harold and Arthur the tenor of the +conversation that had passed. Oriana was on fire with indignation, but +her concern for Harold's safety had its weight with her, and she wisely +refrained from opposing their departure; and both the young men, aware +that a prolongation of their visit would cause the family at Riverside +manor much inconvenience and anxiety, straightway announced their +intention of proceeding northward on the following morning. + +But it was no part of Seth Rawbon's purpose to allow his rival, Hare, to +depart in peace. The chastisement which he had received at Harold's +hands added a most deadly hate to the jealousy which his knowledge of +Oriana's preference had caused. He had considerable influence with +several of the dissolute and lawless characters of the vicinity, and a +liberal allowance of Monongahela, together with sundry pecuniary favors, +enabled him to depend upon their assistance in any adventure that did +not promise particularly serious results. Now the capture and mock trial +of a couple of Yankee strangers did not seem much out of the way to +these not over-scrupulous worthies; and Rawbon's cunning +representations as to the extent of their abolition proclivities were +scarcely necessary, in view of the liberality of his bribes, to secure +their cooperation in his scheme. + +Rawbon had been prowling about the manor house during the day, in the +hope of obtaining some clue to the intentions of the inmates, and +observing a mulatto boy engaged in arranging the boat for present use, +he walked carelessly along the bank to the old boat-house, and, by a few +adroit questions, ascertained that "Missis and the two gen'lmen gwine to +take a sail this arternoon." + +The evening was drawing on apace when Oriana, accompanied by Arthur and +Harold, set forth on the last of the many excursions they had enjoyed on +James River; but they had purposely selected a late hour, that on their +return they might realize the tranquil pleasures of a sail by moonlight. +Beverly was busy finishing some correspondence for the North, which he +intended giving into the charge of his friend Arthur, and he therefore +remained at home. Phil, a smart mulatto, about ten years of age, who was +a general favorite in the family and an especial pet of Oriana, was +allowed to accompany the party. + +It was a lovely evening, only cool enough to be comfortable for Oriana +to be wrapped in her woollen shawl. As the shadows of twilight darkened +on the silent river, a spirit of sadness was with the party, that vague +and painful melancholy that weighs upon the heart when happy ties are +about to be sundered, and loved ones are about to part. Arthur had +brought his flute, and with an effort to throw off the feeling of gloom, +he essayed a lively air; but it seemed like discord by association with +their thoughts. He ceased abruptly, and, at Oriana's request, chose a +more mournful theme. When the last notes of the plaintive melody had +been lost in the stillness of the night, there was an oppressive pause, +only broken by the rustle of the little sail and the faint rippling of +the wave. + +"I seem to be sailing into the shadows of misfortune," said Oriana, in a +low, sad tone. "I wish the moon would rise, for this darkness presses +upon my heart like the fingers of a sorrowful destiny. What a coward I +am to-night!" + +"A most obedient satellite," replied Arthur. "Look where she heralds +her approach by spreading a misty glow on the brow of yonder hill." + +"We have left the shadows of misfortune behind us," said Harold, as a +flood of moonlight flashed over the river, seeming to dash a million of +diamonds in the path of the gliding boat. + +"Alas! the fickle orb!" murmured Oriana; "it rises but to mock us, and +hides itself already in the bosom of that sable cloud. Is there not a +threat of rain there, Mr. Hare?" + +"It looks unpromising, at the best," said Harold; "I think it would be +prudent to return." + +Suddenly, little Phil, who had been lying at ease, with his head against +the thwarts, arose on his elbow and cried out: + +"Wha'dat?" + +"What is what, Phil?" asked Oriana. "Why, Phil, you have been dreaming," +she added, observing the lad's confusion at having spoken so vehemently. + +"Miss Orany, dar's a boat out yonder. I heard 'em pulling, sure." + +"Nonsense, Phil! you've been asleep." + +"By Gol! I heard 'em, sure. What a boat doing round here dis time o' +night? Dem's some niggers arter chickens, sure." + +And little Phil, satisfied that he had fathomed the mystery, lay down +again in a fit of silent indignation. The boat was put about, but the +wind had died away, and the sail flapped idly against the mast. Harold, +glad of the opportunity for a little exercise, shipped the sculls and +bent to his work. + +"Miss Oriana, put her head for the bank if you please. We shall have +less current to pull against in-shore." + +The boat glided along under the shadow of the bank, and no sound was +heard but the regular thugging and splashing of the oars and the voices +of insects on the shore. They approached a curve in the river where the +bank was thickly wooded, and dense shrubbery projected over the stream. + +"Wha' dat?" shouted Phil again, starting up in the bow and peering into +the darkness. A boat shot out from the shadow of the foliage, and her +course was checked directly in their path. The movement was so sudden +that, before Harold could check his headway, the two boats fouled. A +boathook was thrust into the thwarts; Arthur sprang to the bows to cast +it off. + +"Don't touch that," shouted a hoarse voice; and he felt the muzzle of a +pistol thrust into his breast. + +"None of that, Seth," cried another; and the speaker laid hold of his +comrade's arm. "We must have no shooting, you know." + +Arthur had thrown off the boathook, but some half-dozen armed men had +already leaped into the frail vessel, crowding it to such an extent that +a struggle, even had it not been madness against such odds, would have +occasioned great personal danger to Oriana. Both Arthur and Harold +seemed instinctively to comprehend this, and therefore offered no +opposition. Their boat was taken in tow, and in a few moments the entire +party, with one exception, were landed upon the adjacent bank. That +exception was little Phil. In the confusion that ensued upon the +collision of the two boats, the lad had quietly slipped overboard, and +swam ground to the stern where his mistress sat. "Miss Orany, hist! Miss +Orany!" + +The bewildered girl turned and beheld the black face peering over the +gunwale. + +"Miss Orany, here I is. O Lor'! Miss Orany, what we gwine to do?" + +She bowed her head toward him and whispered hurriedly, but calmly: + +"Mind what I tell you, Phil. You watch where they take us to, and then +run home and tell Master Beverly. Do you understand me, Phil?" + +"Yes, I does, Miss Orany;" and the little fellow struck out silently for +the shore, and crept among the bushes. + +Oriana betrayed no sign, of fear as she stood with her two companions on +the bank a few paces from their captors. The latter, in a low but +earnest tone, were disputing with one who seemed to act as their leader. + +"You didn't tell us nothing about the lady," said a brawny, +rugged-looking fellow, angrily. "Now, look here, Seth Rawbon, this ain't +a goin' to do. I'd cut your heart out, before I'd let any harm come to +Squire Weems's sister." + +"You lied to us, you long-headed Yankee turncoat," muttered another. +"What in thunder do you mean bringing us down here for kidnapping a +lady?" + +"Ain't I worried about it as much as you?" answered Rawbon. "Can't you +understand it's all a mistake?" + +"Well, now, you go and apologize to Miss Weems and fix matters, d'ye +hear?" + +"But what can we do?" + +"Do? Undo what you've done, and show her back into the boat." + +"But the two abo"-- + +"Damn them and you along with 'em! Come, boys, don't let's keep the lady +waiting thar." + +The party approached their prisoners, and one among them, hat in hand, +respectfully addressed Oriana. + +"Miss Weems, we're plaguy sorry this should 'a happened. It's a mistake +and none of our fault. Your boat's down thar and yer shan't be +merlested." + +"Am I free to go?" asked Oriana, calmly. + +"Free as air, Miss Weems." + +"With my companions?" + +"No, they remain with us," said Rawbon. + +"Then I remain with them," she replied, with dignity and firmness. + +The man who had first remonstrated with Rawbon, stepped up to him and +laid his hand heavily on his shoulder: + +"Look here, Seth Rawbon, you've played out your hand in this game, now +mind that. Miss Weems, you're free to go, anyhow, with them chaps or +not, just as you like." + +They stepped down the embankment, but the boats were nowhere to be seen. +Rawbon, anticipating some trouble with his gang, had made a pretence +only of securing the craft to a neighboring bush. The current had +carried the boats out into the stream, and they had floated down the +river and were lost to sight in the darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +There was no remedy but to cross the woodland and cornfields that for +about a league intervened between their position and the highway. They +commenced the tedious tramp, Arthur and Harold exerting themselves to +the utmost to protect Oriana from the brambles, and to guide her +footsteps along the uneven ground and among the decayed branches and +other obstacles that beset their path. Their rude companions, too, with +the exception of Rawbon, who walked moodily apart, seemed solicitous to +assist her with their rough attentions. To add to the disagreeable +nature of their situation, the rain began to fall in torrents before +they had accomplished one half of the distance. They were then in the +midst of a tract of wooded land that was almost impassable for a lady in +the darkness, on account of the yielding nature of the soil, and the +numerous ruts and hollows that were soon transformed into miniature +pools and streams. Oriana strove to treat the adventure as a theme for +laughter, and for awhile chatted gaily with her companions; but it was +evident that she was fast becoming weary, and that her thin-shod feet +were wounded by constant contact with the twigs and sharp stones that it +was impossible to avoid in the darkness. Her dress was torn, and heavy +with mud and moisture, and the two young men were pained to perceive +that, in spite of her efforts and their watchful care, she stumbled +frequently with exhaustion, and leaned heavily on their arms as she +labored through the miry soil. + +One of the party opportunely remembered a charcoal-burner's hut in the +vicinity, that would at least afford a rude shelter from the driving +storm. Several of the men hastened in search of it, and soon a halloo +not far distant indicated that the cabin, such as it was, had been +discovered. As they approached, they were surprised to observe rays of +light streaming through the cracks and crevices, as if a fire were +blazing within. It was an uninviting structure, hastily constructed of +unhewn logs, and upon ordinary occasions Oriana would have hesitated to +pass the threshold; but wet and weary as she was, she was glad to +obtain the shelter of even so poor a hovel. + +"There's a runaway in thar, I reckon," said one of the party. He threw +open the door, and several of the men entered. A fire of logs was +burning on the earthen floor, and beside it was stretched a negro's +form, wrapped in a tattered blanket. He started up as his unwelcome +visitors entered, and looked frightened and bewildered, as if suddenly +awakened from a sound sleep. However, he had no sooner laid eyes upon +Seth Rawbon than, with a yell of fear, he sprang with a powerful leap +through the doorway, leaving his blanket in the hands of those who +sought to grasp him. + +"That's my nigger Jim!" cried Rawbon, discharging his revolver at the +dusky form as it ran like a deer into the shadow of the woods. At every +shot, the negro jumped and screamed, but, from his accelerated speed, +was apparently untouched. + +"After him, boys!" shouted Rawbon. "Five dollars apiece and a gallon of +whisky if you bring the varmint in." + +With a whoop, the whole party went off in chase and were soon lost to +view in the darkness. + +Harold and Arthur led Oriana into the hut, and, spreading their coats +upon the damp floor, made a rude couch for her beside the fire. The poor +girl was evidently prostrated with fatigue and excitement, yet, with a +faint laugh and a jest as she glanced around upon the questionable +accommodations, she thanked them for their kindness, and seated herself +beside the blazing fagots. + +"This is a strange finale to our pleasure excursion," she said, as the +grateful warmth somewhat revived her spirits. "You must acknowledge me a +prophetess, gentlemen," she added, with a smile, "for you see that we +sailed indeed into the shadows of misfortune." + +"Should your health not suffer from this exposure," replied Arthur, "our +adventure will prove no misfortune, but only a theme for mirth +hereafter, when we recall to mind our present piteous plight." + +"Oh, I am strong, Mr. Wayne," she answered cheerfully, perceiving the +expression of solicitude in the countenances of her companions, "and +have passed the ordeal of many a thorough wetting with impunity. Never +fear but I shall fare well enough. I am only sorry and ashamed that all +our boasted Virginia hospitality can afford you no better quarters than +this for your last night among us." + +"Apart from the discomfort to yourself, this little episode will only +make brighter by contrast my remembrance of the many happy hours we have +passed together," said Arthur, with a tone of deep feeling that caused +Oriana to turn and gaze thoughtfully into the flaming pile. + +Harold said nothing, and stood leaning moodily against the wall of the +hovel, evidently a prey to painful thoughts. His mind wandered into the +glooms of the future, and dwelt upon the hour when he, perhaps, should +tread with hostile arms the soil that was the birthplace of his beloved. +"Can it be possible," he thought, "that between us twain, united as we +are in soul, there can exist such variance of opinion as will make her +kin and mine enemies, and perhaps the shedders of each other's blood!" + +There was a pause, and Oriana, her raiment being partially dried, +rested her head upon her arm and slumbered. + +The storm increased in violence, and the rain, pelting against the cabin +roof, with its weird music, formed a dismal accompaniment to the +grotesque discomfort of their situation. Arthur threw fresh fuel upon +the fire, and the crackling twigs sent up a fitful flame, that fell +athwart the face of the sleeping girl, and revealed an expression of +sorrow upon her features that caused him to turn away with a sigh. + +"Arthur," asked Harold, abruptly, "do you think this unfortunate affair +at Sumter will breed much trouble?" + +"I fear it," said Arthur, sadly. "Our Northern hearts are made of +sterner stuff than is consistent with the spirit of conciliation." + +"And what of Southern hearts?" + +"You have studied them," said Arthur, with a pensive smile, and bending +his gaze upon the sleeping maiden. + +Harold colored slightly, and glanced half reproachfully at his friend. + +"I cannot help believing," continued the latter, "that we are blindly +invoking a fatal strife, more in the spirit of exaltation than of calm +and searching philosophy. I am confident that the elements of union +still exist within the sections, but my instinct, no less than my +judgment, tells me that they will no longer exist when the +chariot-wheels of war shall have swept over the land. Whatever be the +disparity of strength, wealth and numbers, and whatever may be the +result of encounters upon the battle-field, such a terrible war as both +sides are capable of waging can never build up or sustain a fabric whose +cement must be brotherhood and kindly feeling. I would as soon think to +woo the woman of my choice with angry words and blows, as to reconcile +our divided fellow citizens by force of arms." + +"You are more a philosopher than a patriot," said Harold, with some +bitterness. + +"Not so," answered Arthur, warmly. "I love my country--so well, indeed, +that I cannot be aroused into hostility to any section of it. My reason +does not admit the necessity for civil war, and it becomes therefore a +sacred obligation with me to give my voice against the doctrine of +coercion. My judgment may err, or my sensibilities may be 'too full of +the milk of human kindness' to serve the stern exigencies of the crisis +with a Spartan's callousness and a Roman's impenetrability; but for you +to affirm that, because true to my own opinions, I must be false to my +country, is to deny me that independence of thought to which my country, +as a nation, owes its existence and its grandeur." + +"You boast your patriotism, and yet you seem to excuse those who seek +the dismemberment of your country." + +"I do not excuse them, but I would not have them judged harshly, for I +believe they have acted under provocation." + +"What provocation can justify rebellion against a government so +beneficent as ours?" + +"I will not pretend to justify, because I think there is much to be +forgiven on either side. But if anything can palliate the act, it is +that system of determined hostility which for years has been levelled +against an institution which they believe to be righteous and founded +upon divine precept. But I think this is not the hour for justification +or for crimination. I am convinced that the integrity of the Union can +only be preserved by withholding the armed hand at this crisis. And +pray Heaven, our government may forbear to strike!" + +"Would you, then, have our flag trampled upon with impunity, and our +government confessed a cipher, because, forsooth, you have a +constitutional repugnance to the severities of warfare? Away with such +sickly sentimentality! Such theories, if carried into practice, would +reduce us to a nation of political dwarfs and puny drivellers, fit only +to grovel at the footstools of tyrants." + +"I could better bear an insult to our flag than a deathblow to our +nationality. And I feel that our nationality would not survive a +struggle between the sections. There is no danger that we should be +dwarfed in intellect or spirit by practising forbearance toward our +brothers." + +"Is treason less criminal because it is the treason of brother against +brother? If so, then must a traitor of necessity go unpunished, since +the nature of the crime requires that the culprit be your countryman. +How hollow are your arguments when applied to existing facts!" + +"You forget that I counsel moderation as an expediency, as even a +necessity, for the public good. It were poor policy to compass the +country's ruin for the sake of bringing chastisement upon error." + +"That can be but a questionable love of country that would humiliate a +government to the act of parleying with rebellion." + +"My love of country is not confined to one section of the country, or to +one division of my countrymen. The lessons of the historic past have +taught me otherwise. If, when a schoolboy, poring over the pages of my +country's history, I have stood, in imagination, with Prescott at Bunker +Hill, and stormed with Ethan Allen at the gates of Ticonderoga, I have +also mourned with Washington at Valley Forge, and followed Marion and +Sumter through the wilds of Carolina. If I have fancied myself at work +with Yankee sailors at the guns, and poured the shivering broadside into +the Guerriere, I have helped to man the breastworks at New Orleans, and +seen the ranks that stood firm at Waterloo wavering before the blaze of +Southern rifles. If I have read of the hardy Northern volunteers on the +battle-plains of Mexico; I remember the Palmetto boys at Cherubusco, +and the brave Mississippians at Buena Vista. Is it a wonder, then, that +my heartstrings ache when I see the links breaking that bind me to such +memories? If I would have the Government parley awhile for the sake of +peace, even although the strict law sanction the bayonet and cannon, I +do it in the name of the sacred past, when the ties of brotherhood were +strong. I counsel not humiliation nor submission, but conciliation. I +counsel it, not only as an expedient, but as a tribute to the affinities +of almost a century. I love the Union too well to be willing that its +fate should be risked upon the uncertainties of war. I believe in my +conscience that the chances of its reconstruction depend rather upon +negotiation than upon battles. I may err, or you, as my opponent in +opinion, may err; for while I assume not infallibility for myself, I +deny it, with justice, to my neighbor. But I think as my heart and +intellect dictate, and my patriotism should not be questioned by one as +liable to error as myself. Should I yield my honest convictions upon a +question of such vital importance as my country's welfare, then indeed +should I be a traitor to my country and myself. But to accuse me of +questionable patriotism for my independence of thought, is, in itself, +treason against God and man." + +"I believe you sincere in your convictions, Arthur, not because touched +by your argument, but because I have known you too long and well to +believe you capable of an unworthy motive. But what, in the name of +common justice, would you have us do, when rebellion already thunders at +the gates of our citadels with belching cannon? Shall we sit by our +firesides and nod to the music of their artillery?" + +"I would have every American citizen, in this crisis, as in all others, +divest himself of all prejudice and sectional feeling: I would have him +listen to and ponder upon the opinions of his fellow citizens, and, with +the exercise of his best judgment, to discard the bad, and take counsel +from the good; then, I would have him conclude for himself, not whether +his flag has been insulted, or whether there are injuries to avenge, or +criminals to be punished, but what is best and surest to be done for +the welfare of his country. If he believe the Union can only be +preserved by war, let his voice be for war; if by peace, let him counsel +peace, as I do, from my heart; if he remain in doubt, let him incline to +peace, secure that in so doing he will best obey the teachings of +Christianity, the laws of humanity, and the mighty voice that is +speaking from the soul of enlightenment, pointing out the errors of the +past, and disclosing the secret of human happiness for the future." + +Arthur's eye kindled as he spoke, and the flush of excitement, to which +he was habitually a stranger, colored his pale cheek. Oriana had +awakened with the vehemence of his language, and gazing with interest +upon his now animated features, had been listening to his closing words. +Harold was about to answer, when suddenly the baying of a hound broke +through the noise of the storm. + +"That is a bloodhound!" exclaimed Harold with an accent of surprise. + +"Oh, no," said Oriana. "There are no bloodhounds in this neighborhood, +nor are they at all in use, I am sure, in Virginia." + +"I am not mistaken," replied Harold. "I have been made familiar with +their baying while surveying on the coast of Florida. Listen!" + +The deep, full tones came swelling upon the night wind, and fell with a +startling distinctness upon the ear. + +"It's my hound, Mister Hare," said a low, coarse voice at the doorway, +and Seth Rawbon entered the cabin and closed the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +"It's my hound. Miss Weems, and I guess he's on the track of that +nigger, Jim." + +Oriana started as if stung by a serpent, and rising to her feet, looked +upon the man with such an expression of contempt and loathing that the +ruffian's brow grew black with anger as he returned her gaze. Harold +confronted him, and spoke in a low, earnest tone, and between his +clenched teeth: + +"If you are a man you will go at once. This persecution of a woman is +beneath even your brutality. If you have an account with me, I will not +balk you. But relieve her from the outrage of your presence here." + +"I guess I'd better be around," replied Rawbon, coolly, as he leaned +against the door, with his hands in his coat pocket. "That dog is +dangerous when he's on the scent. You see, Miss Weems," he continued, +speaking over Harold's shoulder, "my niggers are plaguy troublesome, +and I keep the hound to cow them down a trifle. But he wouldn't hurt a +lady, I think--unless I happened to encourage him a bit, do you see." + +And the man showed his black teeth with a grin that caused Oriana to +shudder and turn away. + +Harold's brow was like a thunder-cloud, from beneath which his eyes +flashed like the lightning at midnight. + +"Your words imply a threat which I cannot understand. Ruffian! What do +mean?" + +"I mean no good to you, my buck!" + +His lip, with the deep cut upon it, curled with hate, but he still +leaned coolly against the door, though a quick ear might have caught a +click, as if he had cocked a pistol in his pocket. It was a habit with +Harold to go unarmed. Fearless and self-reliant by nature, even upon his +surveying expeditions in wild and out of the way districts, he carried +no weapon beyond sometimes a stout oaken staff. But now, his form +dilated, and the muscles of his arm contracted, as if he were about to +strike. Oriana understood the movement and the danger. She advanced +quietly but quickly to his side, and took his hand within her own. + +"He is not worth your anger, Harold. For my sake, Harold, do not provoke +him further," she added softly, as she drew him from the spot. + +At this moment the baying of the hound was heard, apparently in close +proximity to the hovel, and presently there was a heavy breathing and +snuffling at the threshold, followed by a bound against the door, and a +howl of rage and impatience. Nothing prevented the entrance of the +animal except the form of Rawbon, who still leaned quietly against the +rude frame, which, hanging upon leathern hinges, closed the aperture. + +There was something frightful in the hoarse snarling of the angry beast, +as he dashed his heavy shoulder against the rickety framework, and +Oriana shrank nervously to Harold's side. + +"Secure that dog!" he said, as, while soothing the trembling girl, he +looked over his shoulder reproachfully at Rawbon. His tone was low, and +even gentle, but it was tremulous with passion. But the man gave no +answer, and continued leering at them as before. + +Arthur walked to him and spoke almost in an accent of entreaty. + +"Sir, for the sake of your manhood, take away your dog and leave us." + +He did not answer. + +The hound, excited by the sound of voices, redoubled his efforts and his +fury. Oriana was sinking into Harold's arms. + +"This must end," he muttered. "Arthur, take her from me, she's fainting. +I'll go out and brain the dog." + +"Not yet, not yet," whispered Arthur. "For her sake be calm," and while +he received Oriana upon one arm, with the other he sought to stay his +friend. + +But Harold seized a brand from the fire, and sprang toward the door. + +"Stand from the door," he shouted, lifting the brand above Rawbon's +head. "Leave that, I say!" + +Rawbon's lank form straightened, and in an instant the revolver flashed +in the glare of the fagots. + +He did not shoot, but his face grew black with passion. + +"By God! you strike me, and I'll set the dog at the woman." + +At the sound of his master's voice, the hound set up a yell that seemed +unearthly. Harold was familiar with the nature of the species, and even +in the extremity of his anger, his anxiety for Oriana withheld his arm. + +"Look you here!" continued Rawbon, losing his quiet, mocking tone, and +fairly screaming with excitement, "do you see this?" He pointed to his +mangled lip, from which, by the action of his jaws while talking, the +plaster had just been torn, and the blood was streaming out afresh. "Do +you see this? I've got that to settle with you. I'll hunt you, by G--d! +as that hound hunts a nigger. Now see if I don't spoil that pretty face +of yours, some day, so that she won't look so sweet on you for all your +pretty talk." + +He seemed to calm abruptly after this, put up his pistol, and resumed +the wicked leer. + +"What would you have?" at last asked Arthur, mildly and with no trace of +anger in his voice. + +Rawbon turned to him with a searching glance, and, after a pause, said: + +"Terms." + +"What?" + +"I want to make terms with you." + +"About what?" + +"About this whole affair." + +"Well. Go on." + +"I know you can hurt me for this with the law, and I know you mean to. +Now I want this matter hushed up." + +Harold would have spoken, but Arthur implored him with a glance, and +answered: + +"What assurance can you give us against your outrages in the future?" + +"None." + +"None! Then why should we compromise with you?" + +"Because I've got the best hand to-night, and you know it. For her, you +know, you'll do 'most anything--now, won't you?" + +The fellow's complaisant smile caused Arthur to look away with disgust. +He turned to Harold, and they were conferring about Rawbon's strange +proposition, when Oriana raised her head suddenly and her face assumed +an expression of attention, as if her ear had caught a distant sound. +She had not forgotten little Phil, and knowing his sagacity and +faithfulness, she depended much upon his having followed her +instructions. And indeed, a moment after, the plashing of the hoofs of +horses in the wet soil could be distinctly heard. + +"Them's my overseer and his man, I guess," said Rawbon, with composure, +and he smiled again as he observed how effectually he had checked the +gleam of joy that had lightened Oriana's face. + +"'Twas he, you see, that set the dog on Jim's track, and now he's +following after, that's all." + +He had scarcely concluded, when a vigorous and excited voice was heard, +shouting: "There 'tis!--there's the hut, gentlemen! Push on!" + +"It is my brother! my brother!" cried Oriana, clasping her hands with +joy; and for the first time that night she burst into tears and sobbed +on Harold's shoulder. + +Rawbon's face grew livid with rage and disappointment. He flung open the +door and sprang out into the open air; but Oriana could see him pause +an instant at the threshold, and stooping, point into the cabin. The low +hissing word of command that accompanied the action reached her ear. She +knew what it meant and a faint shriek burst from her lips, more perhaps +from horror at the demoniac cruelty of the man, than from fear. The next +moment, a gigantic bloodhound, gaunt, mud-bespattered and with the froth +of fury oozing from his distended jaws, plunged through the doorway and +stood glaring in the centre of the cabin. + +Oriana stood like a sculptured ideal of terror, white and immovable; +Harold with his left arm encircled the rigid form, while his right hand +was uplifted, weaponless, but clenched with the energy of despair, till +the blood-drops burst from his palm. But Arthur stepped before them both +and fixed his calm blue eyes upon the monster's burning orbs. There was +neither fear, nor excitement, nor irresolution in that steadfast +gaze--it was like the clear, straightforward glance of a father checking +a wayward child--even the habitual sadness lingered in the deep azure, +and the features only changed to be cast in more placid mold. It was +the struggle of a brave and tranquil soul with the ferocious instincts +of the brute. The hound, crouched for a deadly spring, was fascinated by +this spectacle of the utter absence of emotion. His huge chest heaved +like a billow with his labored respiration, but the regular breathing of +the being that awed him was like that of a sleeping child. For full five +minutes--but it seemed an age--this silent but terrible duel was being +fought, and yet no succor came. Beverly and those who came with him must +have changed their course to pursue the fleeing Rawbon. + +"Lead her out softly, Harold," murmured Arthur, without changing a +muscle or altering his gaze. But the agony of suspense had been too +great--Oriana, with a convulsive shudder, swooned and hung like a corpse +upon Harold's arm. + +"Oh, God! she is dying, Arthur!" he could not help exclaiming, for it +was indeed a counterpart of death that he held in his embrace. + +Then only did Arthur falter for an instant, and the hound was at his +throat. The powerful jaws closed with a snap upon his shoulder, and you +might have heard the sharp fangs grate against the bone. The shock of +the spring brought Arthur to the ground, and man and brute rolled over +together, and struggled in the mud and gore. Harold bore the lifeless +girl out into the air, and returning, closed the door. He seized a +brand, and with both hands levelled a fierce blow at the dog's neck. The +stick shivered like glass, but the creature only shook his grisly head, +but never quit his hold. With his bare hand he seized the live coals +from the thickest of the fire and pressed them against the flanks and +stomach of the tenacious animal; the brute howled and quivered in every +limb, but still the blood-stained fangs were firmly set into the +lacerated flesh. With both hands clasped around the monster's throat, he +exerted his strength till the finger-bones seemed to crack. He could +feel the pulsations of the dog's heart grow fainter and slower, and +could see in his rolling and upheaved eyeballs that the death-pang was +upon him; but those iron jaws still were locked in the torn shoulder; +and as Harold beheld the big drops start from his friend's ashy brow, +and his eyes filming with the leaden hue of unconsciousness, the +agonizing thought came to him that the dog and the man were dying +together in that terrible embrace. + +It was then that he fairly sobbed with the sensation of relief, as he +heard the prancing of steeds close by the cabin-door; and Beverly, +entering hastily, with a cry of horror, stood one moment aghast as he +looked on the frightful scene. Then, with repeated shots from his +revolver, he scattered the dog's brains over Arthur's blood-stained +bosom. + +Harold arose, and, faint and trembling with excitement and exhaustion, +leaned against the wall. Beverly knelt by the side of the wounded man, +and placed his hand above his heart. Harold turned to him with an +anxious look. + +"He has but fainted from loss of blood," said Beverly. "Harold, where is +my sister?" + +As he spoke, Oriana, who, in the fresh night air, had recovered from her +swoon, pale and with dishevelled hair, appeared at the cabin-door. +Harold and Beverly sought to lead her out before her eyes fell upon +Arthur's bleeding form; but she had already seen the pale, calm face, +clotted with blood, but with the beautiful sad smile still lingering +upon the parted lips. She appeared to see neither Harold nor her +brother, but only those tranquil features, above which the angel of +Death seemed already to have brushed his dewy wing. She put aside +Beverly's arm, which was extended to support her, and thrust him away as +if he had been a stranger. She unloosed her hand from Harold's +affectionate grasp, and with a long and suppressed moan of intense +anguish, she kneeled down in the little pool of blood beside the +extended form, with her hands tightly clasped, and wept bitterly. + +They raised her tenderly, and assured her that Arthur was not dead. + +"Oh, no! oh, no!" she murmured, as the tears streamed out afresh, "he +must not die! He must not die for _me_! He is so good! so brave! A +child's heart, with the courage of a lion. Oh, Harold! why did you not +save him?" + +But as she took Harold's hand almost reproachfully, she perceived that +it was black and burnt, and he too was suffering; and she leaned her +brow upon his bosom and sobbed with a new sorrow. + +Beverly was almost vexed at the weakness his sister displayed. It was +unusual to her, and he forgot her weariness and the trial she had +passed. He had been binding some linen about Arthur's shoulder, and he +looked up and spoke to her in a less gentle tone. + +"Oriana, you are a child to-night. I have never seen you thus. Come, +help me with this bandage." + +She sighed heavily, but immediately ceased to weep, and said "Yes," +calmly and with firmness. Bending beside her brother, without faltering +or shrinking, she gave her white fingers to the painful task. + +In the stormy midnight, by the fitful glare of the dying embers, those +two silent men and that pale woman seemed to be keeping a vigil in an +abode of death. And the pattering rain and moan of the night-wind +sounded like a dirge. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Several gentlemen of the neighborhood, whom Beverly, upon hearing little +Phil's story, had hastily summoned to his assistance, now entered the +cabin, together with the male negroes of his household, who had mounted +the farm horses and eagerly followed to the rescue of their young +mistress. They had been detained without by an unsuccessful pursuit of +Rawbon, whose flight they had discovered, but who had easily evaded them +in the darkness. A rude litter was constructed for Arthur, but Oriana +declared herself well able to proceed on horseback, and would not listen +to any suggestion of delay on her account. She mounted Beverly's horse, +while he and Harold supplied themselves from among the horses that the +negroes had rode, and thus, slowly and silently, they threaded the +lonely forest, while ever and anon a groan from the litter struck +painfully upon their ears. + +Arrived at the manor house, a physician who had been summoned, +pronounced Arthur's hurt to be serious, but not dangerous. Upon +receiving this intelligence, Oriana and Harold were persuaded to retire, +and Beverly and his aunt remained as watchers at the bedside of the +wounded man. + +Oriana, despite her agitation, slept well, her rest being only disturbed +by fitful dreams, in which Arthur's pale face seemed ever present, now +smiling upon her mournfully, and now locked in the repose of death. She +arose somewhat refreshed, though still feverish and anxious, and walking +upon the veranda to breathe the morning air, she was joined by Harold, +with his hand in a sling, and much relieved by the application of a +poultice, which the skill of Miss Randolph had prepared. He informed her +that Arthur was sleeping quietly, and that she might dismiss all fears +as to his safety; and perhaps, if he had watched her closely, the +earnest expression of something more than pleasure with which she +received this assurance, might have given him cause for rumination. +Beverly descended soon afterward, and confirmed the favorable report +from the sick chamber, and Oriana retired into the house to assist in +preparing the morning meal. + +"Let us take a stroll by the riverside," said Beverly; "the air breathes +freshly after my night's vigil." + +"The storm has left none but traces of beauty behind," observed Harold, +as they crossed the lawn. The loveliness of the early morning was indeed +a pleasant sequel to the rude tempest of the preceding night. The +dewdrops glistened upon grass-blade and foliage, and the bosom of the +stream flashed merrily in the sunbeams. + +"It is," answered Beverly, "as if Nature were rejoicing that the war of +the elements is over, and a peace proclaimed. Would that the black cloud +upon our political horizon had as happily passed away." + +After a pause, he continued: "Harold, you need not fear to remain with +us a while longer. I am sure that Rawbon's confederates are heartily +ashamed of their participation in last night's outrage, and will on no +account be seduced to a similar adventure. Rawbon himself will not be +likely to show himself in this vicinity for some time to come, unless +as the inmate of a jail, for I have ordered a warrant to be issued +against him. The whole affair has resulted evidently from some +unaccountable antipathy which the fellow entertains against us." + +"I agree with you," replied Harold, "but still I think this is an +unpropitious time for the prolongation of my visit. There are events, I +fear, breeding for the immediate future, in which I must take a part. I +shall only remain with you a few days, that I may be assured of Arthur's +safety." + +"I will not disguise from you my impression that Virginia will withdraw +from the Union. In that case, we will be nominal enemies. God grant that +our paths may not cross each other." + +"Amen!" replied Harold, with much feeling. "But I do not understand why +we should be enemies. You surely will not lend your voice to this +rebellion?" + +"When the question of secession is before the people of my State, I +shall cast my vote as my judgment and conscience shall dictate. +Meanwhile I shall examine the issue, and, I trust, dispassionately. But +whatever may become of my individual opinion, where Virginia goes I go, +whatever be the event." + +"Would you uphold a wrong in the face of your own conscience?" + +"Oh, as to that, I do not hold it a question between right and wrong, +but simply of advisability. The right of secession I entertain no doubt +about." + +"No doubt as to the right of dismembering and destroying a government +which has fostered your infancy, developed your strength, and made you +one among the parts of a nation that has no peer in a world's history? +Is it possible that intellect and honesty can harbor such a doctrine!" + +"My dear Harold, you look at the subject as an enthusiast, and you allow +your heart not to assist but to control your brain. Men, by association, +become attached to forms and symbols, so as in time to believe that upon +their existence depends the substance of which they are but the signs. +Forty years ago, in the Hawaiian Islands, the death-penalty was +inflicted upon a native of the inferior caste, should he chance to pass +over the shadow of one of noble birth. So would you avenge an insult to +a shadow, while you allow the substance to be stolen from your grasp. +Our jewel, as freemen, is the right of self-government; the form of +government is a mere convenience--a machine, which may be dismembered, +destroyed, remodelled a thousand times, without detriment to the great +principle of which it is the outward sign." + +"You draw a picture of anarchy that would disgrace a confederation of +petty savage tribes. What miserable apology for a government would that +be whose integrity depends upon the caprice of the governed?" + +"It is as likely that a government should become tyrannical, as that a +people should become capricious. You have simply chosen an unfair word. +For _caprice_ substitute _will_, and you have my ideal of a true +republic." + +"And by that ideal, one State, by its individual act, might overturn the +entire system adopted for the convenience and safety of the whole." + +"Not so. It does not follow that the system should be overturned because +circumscribed in limit, more than that a business firm should +necessarily be ruined by the withdrawal of a partner. Observe, Harold, +that the General Government was never a sovereignty, and came into +existence only by the consent of each and every individual State. The +States were the sovereignties, and their connection with the Union, +being the mere creature of their will, can exist only by that will." + +"Why, Beverly, you might as well argue that this pencil-case, which +became mine by an act of volition on your part, because you gave it me, +ceases to be mine when you reclaim it." + +"If I had appointed you my amanuensis, and had transferred my pencil to +you simply for the purposes of your labor in my behalf, when I choose to +dismiss you, I should expect the return of my property. The States made +no gifts to the Federal Government for the sake of giving, but only +delegated certain powers for specific purposes. They never could have +delegated the power of coercion, since no one State or number of States +possessed that power as against their sister States." + +"But surely, in entering into the bonds of union, they formed a +contract with each other which should be inviolable." + +"Then, at the worst, the seceding States are guilty of a breach of +contract with the remaining States, but not with the General Government, +with which they made no contract. They formed a union, it is true. But +of what? Of sovereignties. How can those States be sovereignties which +admit a power above them, possessing the right of coercion? To admit the +right of coercion is to deny the existence of sovereignty." + +"You can find nothing in the Constitution to intimate the right of +secession." + +"Because its framers considered the right sufficiently established by +the very nature of the confederation. The fears upon the subject that +were expressed by Patrick Henry, and other zealous supporters of State +Rights, were quieted by the assurances of the opposite party, who +ridiculed the idea that a convention, similar to that which in each +State adopted the Constitution, could not thereafter, in representation +of the popular will, withdraw such State from the confederacy. You +have, in proof of this, but to refer to the annals of the occasion." + +"I discard the theory as utterly inconsistent with any legislative +power. We have either a government or we have not. If we have one, it +must possess within itself the power to sustain itself. Our chief +magistrate becomes otherwise a mere puppet, and our Congress a shallow +mockery, and the shadow only of a legislative body. Our nationality +becomes a word, and nothing more. Our place among the nations becomes +vacant, and the great Republic, our pride and the world's wonder, +crumbles into fragments, and with its downfall perishes the hope of the +oppressed of every clime. I wonder, Beverly, that you can coldly argue +against the very life of your country, and not feel the parricide's +remorse! Have you no lingering affection for the glorious structure +which our fathers built for and bequeathed to us, and which you now seek +to hurl from its foundations? Have you no pride and love for the brave +old flag that has been borne in the vanguard to victory so often, that +has shrouded the lifeless form of Lawrence, that has gladdened the +heart of the American wandering in foreign climes, and has spread its +sacred folds over the head of Washington, here, on your own native +soil?" + +"Yes, Harold, yes! I love the Union, and I love and am proud of the +brave old flag; I would die for either, and, although I reason with you +coldly, my soul yearns to them both, and my heart aches when I think +that soon, perhaps, they will no more belong to me. But I must sacrifice +even my pride and love to a stern sense of duty. So Washington did, when +he hurled his armed squadrons against the proud banner of St. George, +under which he had been trained in soldiership, and had won the laurel +of his early fame. He, too, no doubt, was not without a pang, to be +sundered from his share of Old England's glorious memories, the land of +his allegiance, the king whom he had served, the soil where the bones of +his ancestors lay at rest. It would cause me many a throb of agony to +draw my sword against the standard of the Republic--but I would do it, +Harold, if my conscience bade me, although my nearest friends, although +you, Harold--and I love you dearly--were in the foremost rank." + +"Where I will strive to be, should my country call upon me. But Heaven +forbid that we should meet thus, Beverly!" + +"Heaven forbid?" he replied, with a sigh, as he pressed Harold's hand. +"But yonder comes little Phil, running like mad, to tell us, doubtless, +that breakfast is cold with waiting for us." + +They retraced their steps, and found Miss Randolph and Oriana awaiting +their presence at the breakfast-table. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +During the four succeeding days, the house hold at Riverside manor were +much alarmed for Arthur's safety, for a violent fever had ensued, and, +to judge from the physician's evasive answers, the event was doubtful. +The family were unremitting in their attentions, and Oriana, quietly, +but with her characteristic self-will, insisted upon fulfilling her +share of the duties of a nurse. And no hand more gently smoothed the +sick man's pillow or administered more tenderly the cooling draught. It +seemed that Arthur's sleep was calmer when her form was bending over +him, and even when his thoughts were wandering and his eyes were +restless with delirium, they turned to welcome her as she took her +accustomed seat. Once, while she watched there alone in the twilight, +the open book unheeded in her hand, and her subdued eyes bent +thoughtfully upon his face as he slept unconscious of her presence, she +saw the white lips move and heard the murmur of the low, musical voice. +Her fair head was bent to catch the words--they were the words of +delirium or of dreams, but they brought a blush to her cheek. And yet +she bent her head still lower and listened, until her forehead rested on +the pillow, and when she looked up again with a sigh, and fixed her eyes +mechanically on the page before her, there was a trace of tears upon the +drooping lashes. + +He awoke from a refreshing slumber and it seemed that the fever was +gone; for his glance was calm and clear, and the old smile was upon his +lips. When he beheld Oriana, a slight flush passed over his cheek. + +"Are you indeed there, Miss Weems," he said, "or do I still dream? I +have been dreaming, I know not what, but I was very happy." He sighed, +and closed his eyes, as if he longed to woo back the vision which had +fled. She seemed to know what he had been dreaming, for while his cheek +paled again, hers glowed like an autumn cloud at sunset. + +"I trust you are much better, Mr. Wayne?" + +"Oh yes, much better. I fear I have been very troublesome to you all. +You have been very kind to me." + +"Do not speak so, Mr. Wayne," she replied, and a tear glistened in her +eyes. "If you knew how grateful we all are to you! You have suffered +terribly for my sake, Mr. Wayne. You have a brave, pure heart, and I +could hate myself with thinking that I once dared to wrong and to insult +it." + +"In my turn, I say do not speak so. I pray you, let there be no thoughts +between us that make you unhappy. What you accuse yourself of, I have +forgotten, or remember only as a passing cloud that lingered for a +moment on a pure and lovely sky. There must be no self-reproaches +between us twain, Miss Weems, for we must become strangers to each other +in this world, and when we part I would not leave with you one bitter +recollection." + +There was sorrow in his tone, and the young girl paused awhile and gazed +through the lattice earnestly into the gathering gloom of evening. + +"We must not be strangers, Mr. Wayne." + +"Alas! yes, for to be otherwise were fatal, at least to me." + +She did not answer, and both remained silent and thoughtful, so long, +indeed, that the night shadows obscured the room. Oriana arose and lit +the lamp. + +"I must go and prepare some supper for you," she said, in a lighter +tone. + +He took her hand as she stood at his bed-side and spoke in a low but +earnest voice: + +"You must forget what I have said to you, Miss Weems. I am weak and +feverish, and my brain has been wandering among misty dreams. If I have +spoken indiscreetly, you will forgive me, will you not?" + +"It is I that am to be forgiven, for allowing my patient to talk when +the doctor prescribes silence. I am going to get your supper, for I am +sure you must be hungry; so, good bye," she added gaily, as she smoothed +the pillow, and glided from the room. Oriana was silent and reserved for +some days after this, and Harold seemed also to be disturbed and ill at +ease. Some link appeared to be broken between them, for she did not look +into his eyes with the same frank, trusting gaze that had so often +returned his glance of tenderness, and sometimes even she looked +furtively away with heightened color, when, with some gentle +commonplace, his voice broke in upon her meditation. Arthur was now able +to sit for some hours daily in his easy-chair, and Oriana often came to +him at such times, and although they conversed but rarely, and upon +indifferent themes, she was never weary of reading to him, at his +request, some favorite book. And sometimes, as the author's sentiment +found an echo in her heart, she would pause and gaze listlessly at the +willow branches that waved before the casement, and both would remain +silent and pensive, till some member of the family entered, and broke in +upon their revery. + +"Come, Oriana," said Harold, one afternoon, "let us walk to the top of +yonder hillock, and look at this glorious sunset." + +She went for her bonnet and shawl, and joined him. They had reached the +summit of the hill before either of them broke silence, and then Oriana +mechanically made some commonplace remark about the beauty of the +western sky. He replied with a monosyllable, and sat down upon a +moss-covered rock. She plucked a few wild-flowers, and toyed with them. + +"Oriana, Arthur is much better now." + +"Much better, Harold." + +"I have no fears for his safety now. I think I shall go to-morrow." + +"Go, Harold?" + +"Yes, to New York. The President has appealed to the States for troops. +I am no soldier, but I cannot remain idle while my fellow citizens are +rallying to arms." + +"Will you fight, Harold?" + +"If needs be." + +"Against your countrymen?" + +"Against traitors." + +"Against me, perhaps." + +"Heaven forbid that the blood of any of your kin should be upon my +hands. I know how much you have suffered, dearest, with the thought that +this unhappy business may separate us for a time. Think you that the eye +of affection could fail to notice your dejection and reflective mood for +some days past?" + +Her face grew crimson, and she tore nervously the petals of the flower +in her hand. + +"Oriana, you are my betrothed, and no earthly discords should sever our +destinies or estrange our hearts. Why should we part at all. Be mine at +once, Oriana, and go with me to the loyal North, for none may tell how +soon a barrier may be set between your home and me." + +"That would be treason to my kindred and the home of my birth." + +"And to be severed from me--would it not be treason to your heart?" + +She did not answer. + +"I have spoken to Beverly about it, and he will not seek to control you. +We are most unhappy, Oriana, in our national troubles; why should we be +so in our domestic ties. We can be blest, even among the rude alarms of +war. This strife will soon be over, and you shall see the old homestead +once again. But while the dark cloud lowers, I call upon you, in the +name of your pledged affection, to share my fortunes with me, and bless +me with this dear hand." + +That hand remained passively within his own, but her bosom swelled with +emotion, and presently the large tears rolled upon her cheek. He would +have pressed her to his bosom, but she gently turned from him, and +sinking upon the sward, sobbed through her clasped fingers. + +"Why are you thus unhappy, dear Oriana?" he murmured, as he bent +tenderly above her. "Surely you do not love me less because of this +poison of rebellion that infects the land. And with love, woman's best +consolation, to be your comforter, why should you be unhappy?" + +She arose, pale and excited, and raised his hand to her lips. The act +seemed to him a strange one for an affianced bride, and he gazed upon +her with a troubled air. + +"Let us go home, Harold." + +"But tell me that you love me." + +She placed her two hands lightly about his neck, and looked up +mournfully but steadily into his face. + +"I will be your true wife, Harold, and pray heaven I may love you as you +deserve to be loved. But I am not well to-day, Harold. Let us speak no +more of this now, for there is something at my heart that must be +quieted with penitence and prayer. Oh, do not question me, Harold," she +added, as she leaned her cheek upon his breast; "we will talk with +Beverly, and to-morrow I shall be stronger and less foolish. Come, +Harold, let us go home." + +She placed her arm within his, and they walked silently homeward. When +they reached the house, Oriana was hastening to her chamber, but she +lingered at the threshold, and returned to Harold. + +"I am not well to-night, and shall not come down to tea. Good night, +Harold. Smile upon me as you were wont to do," she added, as she pressed +his hand and raised her swollen eyes, beneath whose white lids were +crushed two teardrops that were striving to burst forth. "Give me the +smile of the old time, and the old kiss, Harold," and she raised her +forehead to receive it. "Do not look disturbed; I have but a headache, +and shall be well to-morrow. Good night--dear--Harold." + +She strove to look pleasantly as she left the room, but Harold was +bewildered and anxious, and, till the summons came for supper, he paced +the veranda with slow and meditative steps. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The following morning was warm and springlike, and Arthur was +sufficiently strong and well to walk out a little in the open air. He +had been seated upon the veranda conversing with Beverly and Harold, +when the latter proposed a stroll with Beverly, with whom he wished to +converse in relation to his proposed marriage. As the beams of the +unclouded sun had already chased away the morning dew, and the air was +warm and balmy, Arthur walked out into the garden and breathed the +freshness of the atmosphere with the exhilaration of a convalescent +freed for the first time from the sick-room. Accidentally, or by +instinct, he turned his steps to the little grove which he knew was +Oriana's favorite haunt; and there, indeed, she sat, upon the rustic +bench, above which the drooping limbs of the willow formed a leafy +canopy. The pensive girl, her white hand, on which she leaned, buried +among the raven tresses, was gazing fixedly into the depths of the +clear sky, as if she sought to penetrate that azure veil, and find some +hope realized among the mysteries of the space beyond. The neglected +volume had fallen from her lap, and lay among the bluebells at her feet. +Arthur's feeble steps were unheard upon the sward, and he had taken his +seat beside her, before, conscious of an intruder, she started from her +dream. + +"The first pilgrimage of my convalescence is to your bower, my gentle +nurse. I have come to thank you for more kindness than I can ever repay, +except with grateful thoughts." + +She had risen when she became aware of his presence; and when she +resumed her seat, it seemed with hesitation, and almost an effort, as if +two impulses were struggling within her. But her pleasure to see him +abroad again was too hearty to be checked, and she timidly gave him the +hand which his extended palm invited to a friendly grasp. + +"Indeed, Mr. Wayne, I am very glad to see you so far recovered." + +"To your kind offices chiefly I owe it, and those of my good friends, +your brother and Harold, and our excellent Miss Randolph. My sick-room +has been the test of so much friendship, that I could almost be sinful +enough to regret the returning health which makes me no longer a +dependent on your care. But you are pale, Miss Weems. Or is it that my +eyes are unused to this broad daylight? Indeed, I trust you are not +ill?" + +"Oh, no, I am quite well," she answered; but it was with an involuntary +sigh that was in contrast with the words. "But you are not strong yet, +Mr. Wayne, and I must not let you linger too long in the fresh morning +air. We had best go in under shelter of the veranda." + +She arose, and would have led the way, but he detained her gently with a +light touch upon her sleeve. + +"Stay one moment, I pray you. I seem to breathe new life with this pure +air, and the perfume of these bowers awakens within me an inexpressible +and calm delight. I shall be all the better for one tranquil hour with +nature in bloom, if you, like the guardian nymph of these floral +treasures, will sit beside me." + +He drew her gently back into the seat, and looked long and earnestly +upon her face. She felt his gaze, but dared not return it, and her fair +head drooped like a flower that bends beneath the glance of a scorching +sun. + +"Miss Weems," he said at last, but his voice was so low and tremulous +that it scarce rose above the rustle of the swinging willow boughs, "you +are soon to be a bride, and in your path the kind Destinies will shower +blessings. When they wreathe the orange blossoms in your hair, and you +are led to the altar by the hand to which you must cling for life, if I +should not be there to wish you joy, you will not deem, will you, that I +am less your friend?" + +The fair head drooping yet lower was her only answer. + +"And when you shall be the mistress of a home where Content will be +shrined, the companion of your virtues, and over your threshold many +friends shall be welcomed, if I should never sit beside your +hearthstone, you will not, will you, believe that I have forgotten, or +that I could forget?" + +Still lower the fair head drooped, but she answered only with a falling +tear. + +"I told you the other day that we should be strangers through life, and +why, I must not tell, although perhaps your woman's heart may whisper, +and yet not condemn me for that which, Heaven knows, I have struggled +against--alas, in vain! Do not turn from me. I would not breathe a word +to you that in all honor you should not hear, although my heart seems +bursting with its longing, and I would yield my soul with rapture from +its frail casket, for but one moment's right to give its secret wings. I +will bid you farewell to-morrow"-- + +"To-morrow!" + +"Yes, the doctor says that the sea air will do me good, and an occasion +offers to-morrow which I shall embrace. It will be like setting forth +upon a journey through endless solitudes, where my only companions will +be a memory and a sorrow." + +He paused a while, but continued with an effort at composure. + +"Our hearts are tyrants to us, Miss Weems, and will not, sometimes, be +tutored into silence. I see that I have moved, but I trust not offended +you." + +"You have not offended," she murmured, but in so low a tone that perhaps +the words were lost in the faint moan of the swaying foliage. + +"What I have said," he continued earnestly, and taking her hand with a +gentle but respectful pressure, "has been spoken as one who is dying +speaks with his fleeting breath; for evermore my lips shall be shackled +against my heart, and the past shall be sealed and avoided as a +forbidden theme. We are, then, good friends at parting, are we not?" + +"Yes." + +"And, believe me, I shall be happiest when I think that you are +happy--for you will be happy." + +She sighed so deeply that the words were checked upon his lips, as if +some new emotion had turned the current of his thought. + +"Are you _not_ happy?" + +The tears that, in spite of her endeavor, burst from beneath the +downcast lids, answered him as words could not have done. He was +agitated and unnerved, and, leaning his brow against his hand, remained +silent while she wept. + +"Harold is a noble fellow," he said at last, after a long silence, and +when she had grown calmer, "and deserves to be loved as I am sure you +love him." + +"Oh, he has a noble heart, and I would die rather than cause him pain." + +"And you love him?" + +"I thought I loved him." + +The words were faint--hardly more than a breath upon her lips; but he +heard them, and his heart grew big with an undefined awe, as if some +vague danger were looming among the shadows of his destiny. Oriana +turned to him suddenly, and clasped his hand within her trembling +fingers. + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne! you must go, and never see me more. I am standing on the +brink of an abyss, and my heart bids me leap. I see the danger, and, oh +God! I have prayed for power to shun it. But Arthur, Arthur, if you do +not help me, I am lost. You are a man, an honest man, an honorable man, +who will not wrong your friend, or tempt the woman that cannot love you +without sin. Oh, save me from myself--from you--from the cruel wrong +that I could even dream of against him to whom I have sworn my woman's +faith. I am a child in your hands, Arthur, and in the face of the +reproaching Providence above me, I feel--I feel that I am at your mercy. +I feel that what you speak I must listen to; that should you bid me +stand beside you at the altar, I should not have courage to refuse. I +feel, oh God! Arthur, that I love you, and am betrothed to Harold. But +you are strong--you have courage, will, the power to defy such weakness +of the heart--and you will save me, for I know you are a good and honest +man." + +As she spoke, with her face upturned to him, and the hot tears rolling +down her cheeks, her fingers convulsively clasped about his hand, and +her form bending closer and closer toward him, till her cheek was +resting on his bosom, Arthur shuddered with intensity of feeling, and +from his averted eyes the scalding drops, that had never once before +moistened their surface, betrayed how terribly he was shaken with +emotion. + +But while she spoke, rapt as they were within themselves, they saw not +one who stood with folded arms beside the rustic bench, and gazed upon +them. + +"As God is my hope," said Arthur, "I will disarm temptation. Fear not. +From this hour we part. Henceforth the living and the dead shall not be +more estranged than we." + +He arose, but started as if an apparition met his gaze. Oriana knelt +beside him, and touched her lips to his hand in gratitude. An arm raised +her tenderly, and a gentle voice murmured her name. + +It was not Arthur's. + +Oriana raised her head, with a faint cry of terror. She gasped and +swooned upon the intruder's breast. + +It was Harold Hare who held her in his arms. + +Arthur, with folded arms, stood erect, but pale, in the presence of his +friend. His eye, sorrowful, yet calm, was fixed upon Harold, as if +awaiting his angry glance. But Harold looked only on the lifeless form +he held, and parting the tresses from her cold brow, his lips rested +there a moment with such a fond caress as sometimes a father gives his +child. + +"Poor girl!" he murmured, "would that my sorrow could avail for both. +Arthur, I have heard enough to know you would not do me wrong. Grief is +in store for us, but let us not be enemies." + +Mournfully, he gave his hand to Arthur, and Oriana, as she wakened from +her trance, beheld them locked in that sad grasp, like two twin statues +of despair. + +They led her to the house, and then the two young men walked out alone, +and talked frankly and tranquilly upon the subject. It was determined +that both should leave Riverside manor on the morrow, and that Oriana +should be left to commune with her own heart, and take counsel of time +and meditation. They would not grieve Beverly with their secret, at +least not for the present, when his sister was so ill prepared to bear +remonstrance or reproof. Harold wrote a kind letter for Oriana, in which +he released her from her pledged faith, asking only that she should take +time to study her heart, but in no wise let a sense of duty stand in the +way of her happiness. He took pains to conceal the depth of his own +affliction, and to avoid whatever she might construe as reproach. + +They would have gone without an interview with Oriana, but that would +have seemed strange to Beverly. However, Oriana, although pale and +nervous, met them in the morning with more composure than they had +anticipated. Harold, just before starting, drew her aside, and placed +the letter in her hand. + +"That will tell you all I would say, and you must read it when your +heart is strong and firm. Do not look so wretched. All may yet be well. +I would fain see you smile before I go." + +But though she had evidently nerved herself to be composed, the tears +would come, and her heart seemed rising to her throat and about to burst +in sobs. + +"I will be your true wife, Harold, and I will love you. Do not desert +me, do not cast me from you. I cannot bear to be so guilty. Indeed, +Harold, I will be true and faithful to you." + +"There is no guilt in that young heart," he answered, as he kissed her +forehead. "But now, we must not talk of love; hereafter, perhaps, when +time and absence shall teach us where to choose for happiness. Part from +me now as if I were your brother, and give me a sister's kiss. Would you +see Arthur?" + +She trembled and whispered painfully: + +"No, Harold, no--I dare not. Oh, Harold, bid him forget me." + +"It is better that you should not see him. Farewell! be brave. We are +good friends, remember. Farewell, dear girl." + +Beverly had been waiting with the carriage, and as the time was short, +he called to Harold. Arthur, who stood at the carriage wheel, simply +raised his hat to Oriana, as if in a parting salute. He would have given +his right hand to have pressed hers for a moment; but his will was iron, +and he did not once look back as the carriage whirled away. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +In the drawing-room of an elegant mansion in a fashionable quarter of +the city of New York, toward the close of April, a social party were +assembled, distributed mostly in small conversational groups. The head +of the establishment, a pompous, well-to-do merchant, stout, short, and +baldheaded, and evidently well satisfied with himself and his position +in society, was vehemently expressing his opinions upon the affairs of +the nation to an attentive audience of two or three elderly business +men, with a ponderous earnestness that proved him, in his own +estimation, as much _au fait_ in political affairs as in the routine of +his counting-room. An individual of middle age, a man of the world, +apparently, who was seated at a side-table, carelessly glancing over a +book of engravings, was the only one who occasionally exasperated the +pompous gentleman with contradictions or ill-timed interruptions. + +"The government must be sustained," said the stout gentleman, "and we, +the merchants of the North, will do it. It is money, sir, money," he +continued, unconsciously rattling the coin in his breeches pocket, "that +settles every question at the present day, and our money will bring +these beggarly rebels to their senses. They can't do without us, sir. +They would be ruined in six months, if shut out from commercial +intercourse with the North." + +"How long before you would be ruined by the operations of the same +cause?" inquired the individual at the side-table. + +"Sir, we of the North hold the wealth of the country in our pockets. +They can't fight against our money--they can't do it, sir." + +"Your ancestors fought against money, and fought passably well." + +"Yes, sir, for the great principles of human liberty." + +"Which these rebels believe they are fighting for. You have need of all +your money to keep a respectable army in the field. These Southerners +may have to fight in rags, as insurgents generally do: witness the +struggle of your Revolution; but until you lay waste their corn-fields +and drive off their cattle, they will have full stomachs, and that, +after all, is the first consideration." + +"You are an alien, sir, a foreigner; you know nothing of our great +institutions; you know nothing of the wealth of the North, and the +spirit of the people." + +"I see a great deal of bunting in the streets, and hear any quantity of +declamation at your popular gatherings. But as I journeyed northward +from New Orleans, I saw the same in the South--perhaps more of it." + +"And could not distinguish between the frenzy of treason and the +enthusiasm of patriotism?" + +"Not at all; except that treason seemed more earnest and unanimous." + +"You have seen with the eyes of an Englishman--of one hostile to our +institutions." + +"Oh, no; as a man of the world, a traveller, without prejudice or +passion, receiving impressions and noting them. I like your country; I +like your people. I have observed foibles in the North and in the South, +but there is an under-current of strong feeling and good sense which I +have noted and admired. I think your quarrel is one of foibles--one +conceived in the spirit of petulance, and about to be prosecuted in the +spirit of exaltation. I believe the professed mutual hatred of the +sections to be superficial, and that it could be cancelled. It is +fostered by the bitterness of fanatics, assisted by a very natural +disinclination on the part of the masses to yield a disputed point. If +hostilities should cease to-morrow, you would be better friends than +ever." + +"But the principle, sir! The right of the thing, and the wrong of the +thing! Can we parley with traitors? Can we negotiate with armed +rebellion? Is it not our paramount duty to set at rest forever the +doctrine of secession?" + +"As a matter of policy, perhaps. But as a right, I doubt it. Your +government I look upon as a mere agency appointed by contracting parties +to transact certain affairs for their convenience. Should one or more of +those contracting parties, sovereignties in themselves, hold it to their +interest to transact their business without the assistance of an agent, +I cannot perceive that the right can be denied by any provision of the +contract. In your case, the employers have dismissed their agent, who +seeks to reinstate the office by force of arms. As justly might my +lawyer, when I no longer need his services, attempt to coerce me into a +continuance of business relations, by invading my residence with a +loaded pistol. The States, without extinguishing their sovereignty, +created the Federal Government; it is the child of State legislation, +and now the child seeks to chastise and control the parent. The General +Government can possess no inherent or self-created function; its power, +its very existence, were granted for certain uses. As regards your +State's connection with that Government, no other State has the right to +interfere; but as for another State's connection with it, the power that +made it can unmake." + +"So you would have the government quietly acquiesce in the robbery of +public property, the occupation of Federal strongholds and the seizure +of ships and revenues in which they have but a share?" + +"If, by the necessity of the case, the seceded States hold in their +possession more than their share of public property, a division should +be made by arbitration, as in other cases where a distribution of common +property is required. It may have been a wrong and an insult to bombard +Fort Sumter and haul down the Federal flag, but that does not establish +a right on the part of the Federal Government to coerce the wrong-doing +States into a union with the others. And that, I take it, is the avowed +purpose of your administration." + +"Yes, and that purpose will be fulfilled. We have the money to do it, +and we will do it, sir." + +A tall, thin gentleman, with a white cravat and a bilious complexion, +approached the party from a different part of the room. + +"It can't be done with money, Mr. Pursely," said the new comer, "Unless +the great, the divine principle of universal human liberty is invoked. +An offended but merciful Providence has given the people this chance for +redemption, in the opportunity to strike the shackle from the slave. I +hold the war a blessing to the nation and to humanity, in that it will +cleanse the land from its curse of slavery. It is an invitation from God +to wipe away the record of our past tardiness and tolerance, by striking +at the great sin with fire and sword. The blood of millions is +nothing--the woe, the lamentation, the ruin of the land is nothing--the +overthrow of the Union itself is nothing, if we can but win God's smile +by setting a brand in the hand of the bondman to scourge his master. But +assuredly unless we arouse the slave to seize the torch and the dagger, +and avenge the wrongs of his race, Providence will frown upon our +efforts, and our arms will not prevail." + +A tall man in military undress replied with considerable emphasis: + +"Then your black-coated gentry must fight their own battle. The people +will not arm if abolition is to be the watchword. I for one will not +strike a blow if it be not understood that the institutions of the South +shall be respected." + +"The government must be sustained, that is the point," cried Mr. +Pursely. "It matters little what becomes of the negro, but the +government must be sustained. Otherwise, what security will there be +for property, and what will become of trade?" + +"Who thinks of trade or property at such a crisis?" interrupted an +enthusiast, in figured trowsers and a gay cravat. "Our beloved Union +must and shall be preserved. The fabric that our fathers reared for us +must not be allowed to crumble. We will prop it with our mangled +bodies," and he brushed a speck of dust from the fine broadcloth of his +sleeve. + +"The insult to our flag must be wiped out," said the military gentleman. +"The honor of the glorious stripes and stars must be vindicated to the +world." + +"Let us chastise these boasting Southrons," said another, "and prove our +supremacy in arms, and I shall be satisfied." + +"But above all," insisted a third, "we must check the sneers and +exultation of European powers, and show them that we have not forgotten +the art of war since the days of 1776 and 1812." + +"I should like to know what you are going to fight about," said the +Englishman, quietly; "for there appears to be much diversity of +opinion. However, if you are determined to cut each others' throats, +perhaps one pretext is as good as another, and a dozen better than only +one." + +In the quiet recess of a window, shadowed by the crimson curtains, sat a +fair young girl, and a man, young and handsome, but upon whose +countenance the traces of dissipation and of passion were deeply marked. +Miranda Ayleff was a Virginian, the cousin and quondam playmate of +Oriana Weems, like her an orphan, and a ward of Beverly. Her companion +was Philip Searle. She had known him in Richmond, and had become much +attached to him, but his habits and character were such, that her +friends, and Beverly chiefly, had earnestly discouraged their intimacy. +Philip left for the North, and Miranda, who at the date of our story was +the guest of Mrs. Pursely, her relative, met him in New York, after a +separation of two years. Philip, who, in spite of his evil ways, was +singularly handsome and agreeable in manners, found little difficulty in +fanning the old flame, and, upon the plea of old acquaintance, became a +frequent visitor upon Miranda at Mr. Pursely's mansion, where we now +find them, earnestly conversing, but in low tones, in the little +solitude of the great bay window. + +"You reproach me with vices which your unkindness has helped to stain me +with. Driven from your presence, whom alone I cared to live for, what +marvel if I sought oblivion in the wine-cup and the dice-box? Give me +one chance, Miranda, to redeem myself. Let me call you wife, and you +will become my guardian angel, and save me from myself." + +"You know that I love you, Philip," she replied, "and willingly would I +share your destiny, hoping to win you from evil. Go with me to Richmond. +We will speak with Beverly, who is kind and truly loves me. We will +convince him of your good purposes, and will win his consent to our +union." + +"No, Miranda; Beverly and your friends in Richmond will never believe me +worthy of you. Besides, it would be dangerous for me to visit Richmond. +I have identified myself with the Northern cause, and although, for your +sake, I might refrain from bearing arms against Virginia, yet I have +little sympathy with any there, where I have been branded as a drunkard +and a gambler." + +"Yet, Philip, is it not the land of your birth--the home of your +boyhood?" + +"The land of my shame and humiliation. No Miranda, I will not return to +Virginia. And if you love me, you will not return. What are these +senseless quarrels to us? We can be happy in each other's love, and +forget that madmen are at war around us. Why will you not trust me, +Miranda--why do you thus withhold from me my only hope of redemption +from the terrible vice that is killing me? I put my destiny, my very +life in your keeping, and you hesitate to accept the trust that alone +can save me. Oh, Miranda! you do not love me." + +"Philip, I cannot renounce my friends, my dear country, the home of my +childhood." + +"Then look you what will be my fate: I will join the armies of the +North, and fling away my life in battle against my native soil. Ruin and +death cannot come too soon when you forsake me." + +Miranda remained silent, but, through the gloom of the recess, he could +see the glistening of a tear upon her cheek. + +The hall-bell rang, and the servant brought in a card for Miss Ayleff. +Following it, Arthur Wayne was ushered into the room. + +She rose to receive him, somewhat surprised at a visit from a stranger. + +"I have brought these letters for you from my good friend Beverly +Weems," said Arthur. "At his request, I have ventured to call in person, +most happy, if you will forgive the presumption, in the opportunity." + +She gave her hand, and welcomed him gracefully and warmly, and, having +introduced Mr. Searle, excused herself while she glanced at the contents +of Beverly's letter. While thus employed, Arthur marked her changing +color; and then, lifting his eyes lest his scrutiny might be rude, +observed Philip's dark eye fixed upon her with a suspicious and +searching expression. Then Philip looked up, and their glances met--the +calm blue eye and the flashing black--but for an instant, but long +enough to confirm the instinctive feeling that there was no sympathy +between their hearts. + +A half-hour's general conversation ensued, but Philip appeared restless +and uneasy, and rose to take his leave. She followed him to the parlor +door. + +"Come to me to-morrow," she said, as she gave her hand, "and we will +talk again." + +A smile of triumph rested upon his pale lips for a second; but he +pressed her hand, and, murmuring an affectionate farewell, withdrew. + +Arthur remained a few moments, but observing that Miranda was pensive +and absent, he bade her good evening, accepting her urgent invitation to +call at an early period. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +"Well, Arthur," said Harold Hare, entering the room of the former at his +hotel, on the following evening, "I have come to bid you good bye. I +start for home to-morrow morning," he added, in reply to Arthur's +questioning glance. "I am to have a company of Providence boys in my old +friend Colonel R----'s regiment. And after a little brisk recruiting, +ho! for Washington and the wars!" + +"You have determined for the war, then?" + +"Of course. And you?" + +"I shall go to my Vermont farm, and live quietly among my books and +pastures." + +"A dull life, Arthur, when every wind that blows will bring to your ears +the swell of martial music and the din of arms." + +"If I were in love with the pomp of war, which, thank heaven, I am not, +Harold, I would rather dwell in a hermit's cave, than follow the fife +and drum over the bodies of my Southern countrymen." + +"Those Southern countrymen, that you seem to love better than the +country they would ruin, would have little remorse in marching over your +body, even among the ashes of your farm-house. Doubtless you would stand +at your threshold, and welcome their butchery, should their ruffian +legions ravage our land as far as your Green Mountains." + +"I do not think they will invade one foot of Northern soil, unless +compelled by strict military necessity. However, should the State to +which I owe allegiance be attacked by foreign or domestic foe, I will +stand among its defenders. But, dear Harold, let us not argue this sad +subject, which it is grief enough but to contemplate. Tell me of your +plans, and how I shall communicate with you, while you are absent. My +distress about this unhappy war will be keener, when I feel that my dear +friend may be its victim." + +Harold pressed his hand affectionately, and the two friends spoke of the +misty future, till Harold arose to depart. They had not mentioned +Oriana's name, though she was in their thoughts, and each, as he bade +farewell, knew that some part of the other's sadness was for her sake. + +Arthur accompanied Harold a short distance up Broadway, and returning, +found at the office of the hotel, a letter, without post-mark, to his +address. He stepped into the reading-room to peruse it. It was from +Beverly, and ran thus: + + "RICHMOND, _May_ --, 1861. + + "DEAR ARTHUR: The departure of a friend gives me an opportunity to + write you about a matter that I beg you will attend to, for my sake, + thoroughly. I learned this morning, upon receipt of a letter from + Mr. Pursely, that Miranda Ayleff, of whom we spoke together, and to + whom I presume you have already delivered my communication, is + receiving the visits of one Philip Searle, to whom, some two years + since, she was much attached. _Entre nous_, Arthur, I can tell you, + the man is a scoundrel of the deepest dye. Not only a drunkard and a + gambler, but dishonest, and unfit for any decent girl's society. He + is guilty of forgery against me, and, against my conscience, I + hushed the matter only out of consideration for her feelings. I + would still have concealed the matter from her, had this resumption + of their intimacy not occurred. But her welfare must cancel all + scruples of that character; and I therefore entreat you to see her + at once, and unmask the man fully and unequivocally. If necessary + you may show my letter for that purpose. I would go on to New York + myself immediately, were I not employed upon a State mission of + exceeding delicacy and importance; but I have full confidence in + your good judgment. Spare no arguments to induce her to return + immediately to Richmond. + + "Oriana has not been well; I know not what ails her, but, though she + makes no complaint, the girl seems really ill. She knows not of my + writing, for I would not pain her about Miranda, of whom she is very + fond. But I can venture, without consulting her, to send you her + good wishes. Let me hear from you in full about what I have written. + Your friend. + + "BEVERLY WEEMS." + + "P.S.--Knowing that you must yet be weak with your late illness, I + would have troubled Harold, rather than you, about this matter, but + I am ignorant of his present whereabouts, while I know that you + contemplated remaining a week or so in New York. Write me about the + ugly bite in the shoulder, from which I trust you are well + recovered. B.W." + +Arthur looked up from the letter, and beheld Philip Searle seated at the +opposite side of the table. He had entered while Arthur's attention was +absorbed in reading, and having glanced at the address of the envelope +which lay upon the table, he recognized the hand of Beverly. This +prompted him to pause, and taking up one of the newspapers which were +strewn about the table, he sat down, and while he appeared to read, +glanced furtively at his _vis-à -vis_ over the paper's edge. When his +presence was noticed, he bowed, and Arthur, with a slight and stern +inclination of the head, fixed his calm eye upon him with a searching +severity that brought a flush of anger to Philip's brow. + +"That is Weems' hand," he muttered, inwardly, "and by that fellow's +look, I fancy that no less a person than myself is the subject of his +epistle." + +Arthur had walked away, but, in his surprise at the unexpected presence +of Searle, he had allowed the letter to remain upon the table. No sooner +had he passed out of the room, than Philip quietly but rapidly stretched +his hand beneath the pile of scattered journals, and drew it toward him. +It required but an instant for his quick eye to catch the substance. His +face grew livid, and his teeth grated harshly with suppressed rage. + +"We shall have a game of plot and counterplot before this ends, my +man," he muttered. + +There were pen and paper on the table, and he wrote a few lines hastily, +placed them in the envelope, and put Beverly's letter in his pocket. He +had hardly finished when Arthur reëntered the room, advanced rapidly to +the table, and, with a look of relief, took up the envelope and its +contents, and again left the room. Philip's lip curled beneath the black +moustache with a smile of triumphant malice. + +"Keep it safe in your pocket for a few hours, my gamecock, and my +heiress to a beggar-girl, I'll have stone walls between you and me." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +The evening was somewhat advanced, but Arthur determined at once to seek +an interview with Miss Ayleff. Hastily arranging his toilet, he walked +briskly up Broadway, revolving in his mind a fit course for fulfilling +his delicate errand. + +To shorten his way, he turned into a cross street in the upper part of +the city. As he approached the hall door of a large brick house, his eye +chanced to fall upon a man who was ringing for admittance. The light +from the street lamp fell full upon his face, and he recognized the +features of Philip Searle. At that moment the door was opened, and +Philip entered. Arthur would have passed on, but something in the +appearance of the house arrested his attention, and, on closer scrutiny, +revealed to him its character. One of those impulses which sometimes +sway our actions, tempted him to enter, and learn, if possible, +something further respecting the habits of the man whose scheme he had +been commissioned to thwart. A moment's reflection might have changed +his purpose, but his hand was already upon the bell, and the summons was +quickly answered by a good-looking but faded young woman, with painted +cheeks and gay attire. She fixed her keen, bold eyes upon him for a few +seconds, and then, tossing her ringlets, pertly invited him to enter. + +"Who is within?" asked Arthur, standing in the hall. + +"Only the girls. Walk in." + +"The gentleman who came in before me, is he there?" + +"Do you want to see him?" she asked, suspiciously. + +"Oh, no. Only I would avoid being seen by any one." + +"He will not see you. Come right in." And she threw open the door, and +flaunted in. + +Arthur followed her without hesitation. + +Bursts of forced and cheerless laughter, and the shrill sound of rude +and flippant talk, smote unpleasantly upon his ear. The room was richly +furnished, but without taste or modesty. The tall mirrors were displayed +with ostentation, and the paintings, offensive in design, hung +conspicuous in showy frames. The numerous gas jets, flashing among +glittering crystal pendants, made vice more glaring and heartlessness +more terribly apparent. Women, with bold and haggard eyes, with brazen +brows, and cheeks from which the roses of virgin shame had been plucked +to bloom no more forever--mostly young girls, scourging their youth into +old age, and gathering poison at once for soul and body--with sensual +indolence reclined upon the rich ottomans, or with fantastic grace +whirled through lewd waltzes over the velvet carpets. There was laughter +without joy--there was frivolity without merriment--there was the +surface of enjoyment and the substance of woe, for beneath those painted +cheeks was the pallor of despair and broken health, and beneath those +whitened bosoms, half veiled with gaudy silks, were hearts that were +aching with remorse, or, yet more unhappy, benumbed and callous with +habitual sin. + +Yet there, like a crushed pearl upon a heap of garbage, lingers the +trace of beauty; and there, surely, though sepulchred in the caverns of +vice, dwells something that was once innocence, and not unredeemable. +But whence is the friendly word to come, whence the guardian hand that +might lift them from the slough. They live accursed by even charity, +shunned by philanthropy, and shut from the Christian world like a tribe +of lepers whose touch is contagion and whose breath is pestilence. In +the glittering halls of fashion, the high-born beauty, with wreaths +about her white temples and diamonds upon her chaste bosom, gives her +gloved hand for the dance, and forgets that an erring sister, by the +touch of those white fingers, might be raised from the grave of her +chastity, and clothed anew with the white garments of repentance. But +no; the cold world of fashion, that from its cushioned pew has listened +with stately devotion to the words of the Redeemer, has taught her that +to redeem the fallen is beneath her caste. The bond of sisterhood is +broken. The lost one must pursue her hideous destiny, each avenue of +escape blocked by the scorn and loathing which denies her the contact of +virtue and the counsel of purity. In the broad fields of charity, +invaded by cold philosophers, losing themselves in searching unreal and +vague philanthropies, none so practical in beneficence as to take her by +the hand, saying, "Go, and sin no more." + +But whenever the path of benevolence is intricate and doubtful, whenever +the work is linked with a riddle whose solving will breed discord and +trouble among men, whenever there is a chance to make philanthropy a +plea for hate, and bitterness and charity can be made a battle-cry to +arouse the spirit of destruction, and spread ruin and desolation over +the fair face of the earth, then will the domes of our churches resound +with eloquence, then will the journals of the land teem with their +mystic theories, then will the mourners of human woe be loud in +lamentation, and lift up their mighty voices to cry down an abstract +evil. When actual misery appeals to them, they are deaf; when the plain +and palpable error stalks before them, they turn aside. They are too +busy with the tangles of some philanthropic Gordian knot, to stretch out +a helping hand to the sufferer at their sides. They are frenzied with +their zeal to build a bridge over a spanless ocean, while the drowning +wretch is sinking within their grasp. They scorn the simple charity of +the good Samaritan; theirs must be a gigantic and splendid achievement +in experimental beneficence, worthy of their philosophic brains. The +wrong they would redress must be one that half the world esteems a +right; else there would be no room for their arguments, no occasion for +their invective, no excuse for their passion. To do good is too simple +for their transcendentalism; they must first make evil out of their +logic, and then, through blood and wasting flames, drive on the people +to destruction, that the imaginary evil may be destroyed. While Charity +soars so high among the clouds, she will never stoop to lift the +Magdalen from sin. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Arthur heaved an involuntary sigh, as he gazed upon those sad wrecks of +womanhood, striving to harden their sense of degradation by its impudent +display. But an expression of bewildered and sorrowful surprise suddenly +overspread his countenance. Seated alone upon a cushioned stool, at the +chimney-corner, was a young woman, her elbows resting upon her knees, +and her face bent thoughtfully upon her palms. She was apparently lost +in thought to all around her. She was thinking--of what? Perhaps of the +green fields where she played in childhood; perhaps of her days of +innocence; perhaps of the mother at whose feet she had once knelt in +prayer. But she was far away, in thought, from that scene of infamy of +which she was a part; for, in the glare of the gaslight, a tear +struggled through her eyelashes, and glittered like a ray from heaven +piercing the glooms of hell. + +Arthur walked to her, and placed his hand softly upon her yellow hair. + +"Oh, Mary!" he murmured, in a tone of gentle sorrow, that sounded +strangely amid the discordant merriment that filled the room. + +She looked up, at his touch, but when his voice fell upon her ear, she +arose suddenly and stood before him like one struck dumb betwixt +humiliation and wonder. The angel had not yet fled that bosom, for the +blush of shame glowed through the chalk upon her brow and outcrimsoned +the paint upon her cheek. As it passed away, she would have wreathed her +lip mechanically with the pert smile of her vocation, but the smile was +frozen ere it reached her lips, and the coarse words she would have +spoken died into a murmur and a sob. She sank down again upon the +cushion, and bent her face low down upon her hands. + +"Oh, Mary! is it you! is it you! I pray heaven your mother be in her +grave!" + +She rose and escaped quickly from the room; but he followed her and +checked her at the stairway. + +"Let me speak with you, Mary. No, not here; lead me to your room." + +He followed her up-stairs, and closing the door, sat beside her as she +leaned upon the bed and buried her face in the pillow. + +It was the child of his old nurse. Upon the hill-sides of his native +State they had played together when children, and now she lay there +before him, with scarce enough of woman's nature left to weep for her +own misery. + +"Mary, how is this? Look up, child," he said, taking her hand kindly. "I +had rather see you thus, bent low with sorrow, than bold and hard in +guilt. But yet look up and speak to me. I will be your friend, you know. +Tell me, why are you thus?" + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne, do not scold me, please don't. I was thinking of home +and mother when you came and put your hand on my head. Mother's dead." + +"Well for her, poor woman. But how came you thus?" + +"I scarcely seem to know. It seems to me a dream. I married John, and he +brought me to New York. Then the war came, and he went and was killed. +And mother was dead, and I had no friends in the great city. I could get +no work, and I was starving, indeed I was, Mr. Wayne. So a young man, +who was very handsome, and rich, I think, for he gave me money and fine +dresses, he promised me--Oh, Mr. Wayne, I was very wrong and foolish, +and I wish I could die, and be buried by my poor mother." + +"And did he bring you here?" + +"Oh no, sir. I came here two weeks ago, after he had left me. And when +he came in one night and found me here, he was very angry, and said he +would kill me if I told any one that I knew him. And I know why; but you +won't tell, Mr. Wayne, for it would make him angry. I have found out +that he is married to the mistress of this house. He's a bad man, I know +now, and often comes here drunk, and swears at the woman and the girls. +Hark! that's her room, next to mine, and I think he's in there now." + +The faint sound of voices, smothered by the walls, reached them from the +adjoining chamber; but as they listened, the door of that room opened, +and the loud and angry tones of a man, speaking at the threshold, could +be distinctly heard. Arthur quietly and carefully opened the door of +Mary's room, an inch or less, and listened at the aperture. He was not +mistaken; he recognized the voice of Philip Searle. + +"I'll do it, anyhow," said Philip, angrily, and with the thick utterance +of one who had been drinking. "I'll do it; and if you trouble me, I'll +fix you." + +"Philip, if you marry that girl I'll peach; I will, so help me G--d," +replied a woman's voice. "I've given you the money, and I've given you +plenty before, as much as I had to give you, Philip, and you know it. I +don't mind that, but you shan't marry till I'm dead. I'm your lawful +wife, and if I'm low now, it's your fault, for you drove me to it." + +"I'll drive you to hell if you worry me. I tell you she's got lots of +money, and a farm, and niggers, and you shall have half if you only keep +your mouth shut. Come, now, Molly, don't be a fool; what's the use, +now?" + +They went down the stairway together, and their voices were lost as they +descended. Arthur determined to follow and get some clue, if possible, +as to the man's, intentions. He therefore gave his address to Mary, and +made her promise faithfully to meet him on the following morning, +promising to befriend her and send her to his mother in Vermont. Hearing +the front door close, and surmising that Philip had departed, he bade +her good night, and descending hastily, was upon the sidewalk in time to +observe Philip's form in the starlight as he turned the corner. + +It was now ten o'clock; too late to call upon Miranda without disturbing +the household, which he desired to avoid. Arthur's present fear was that +possibly an elopement had been planned for that night, and he therefore +determined, if practicable, to keep Searle in view till he had traced +him home. The latter entered a refreshment saloon upon Broadway; Arthur +followed, and ordering, in a low tone, some dish that would require time +in the preparation, he stepped, without noise, into an alcove adjoining +one whence came the sound of conversation. + +"Well, what's up?" inquired a gruff, coarse voice. + +"Fill me some brandy," replied Philip. "I tell you, Bradshaw, it's +risky, but I'll do it. The old woman's rock. She'll blow upon me if she +gets the chance; but I'm in for it, and I'll put it through. We must +manage to keep it mum from her, and as soon as I get the girl I'll +accept the lieutenancy, and be off to the wars till all blows over. If +Moll should smoke me out there, I'll cross the line and take sanctuary +with Jeff. Davis." + +"What about the girl?" + +"Oh; she's all right," replied Philip, with a drunken chuckle. "I had an +interview with the dear creature this morning, and she's like wax in my +hands. It's all arranged for to-morrow morning. You be sure to have the +carriage ready at the Park--the same spot, you know--by ten o'clock. +She can't well get away before, but that will be time enough for the +train." + +"I want that money now." + +"Moll's hard up, but I got a couple of hundred from her. Here's fifty +for you; now don't grumble, I'm doing the best I can, d--n you, and you +know it. Now listen--I want to fix things with you about that blue-eyed +chap." + +The waiter here brought in Arthur's order, and a sudden silence ensued +in the alcove. The two men had evidently been unaware of the proximity +of a third party, and their tone, though low, had not been sufficiently +guarded to escape Arthur hearing, whose ear, leaning against the thin +partition, was within a few inches of Philip's head. A muttered curse +and the gurgling of liquor from a decanter was all that could be heard +for the space of a few-moments, when the two, after a brief whisper, +arose and left the place, not, however, without making ineffectual +efforts to catch a glimpse of the occupant of the tenanted alcove. +Arthur soon after followed them into the street. He was aware that he +was watched from the opposite corner, and that his steps were dogged in +the darkness. But he drew his felt hat well over his face, and by +mingling with the crowd that chanced to be pouring from one of the +theatres, he avoided recognition and passed unnoticed into his hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Arthur felt ill and much fatigued when he retired to rest, and was +restless and disturbed with fever throughout the night. He had +overtasked his delicate frame, yet scarce recovered from the effects of +recent suffering, and he arose in the morning with a feeling of +prostration that he could with difficulty overcome. However, he +refreshed himself with a cup of tea, and prepared to call upon Miss +Ayleff. It was but seven o'clock, a somewhat early hour for a morning +visit, but the occasion was one for little ceremony. As he was on the +point of leaving his room, there was a peremptory knock at the door, +and, upon his invitation to walk in, a stranger entered. It was a +gentlemanly personage, with a searching eye and a calm and quiet manner. +Arthur was vexed to be delayed, but received the intruder with a civil +inclination of the head, somewhat surprised, however, that no card had +been sent to give him intimation of the visit. + +"Are you Mr. Arthur Wayne?" inquired the stranger. + +"I am he," replied Arthur. "Be seated, sir." + +"I thank you. My name is ----. I am a deputy United States marshal of +this district." + +Arthur bowed, and awaited a further statement of the purpose of his +visit. + +"You have lately arrived from Virginia, I understand?" + +"A few days since, sir--from a brief sojourn in the vicinity of +Richmond." + +"And yesterday received a communication from that quarter?" + +"I did. A letter from an intimate acquaintance." + +"My office will excuse me from an imputation of inquisitiveness. May I +see that letter?" + +"Excuse me, sir. Its contents are of a private and delicate nature, and +intended only for my own perusal." + +"It is because its contents are of that nature that I am constrained to +ask you for it. Pardon me, Mr. Wayne; but to be brief and frank you, I +must either receive that communication by your good will, or call in my +officers, and institute a search. I am sure you will not make my duty +more unpleasant than necessary." + +Arthur paused awhile. He was conscious that it would be impossible for +him to avoid complying with the marshal's request, and yet it was most +annoying to be obliged to make a third party cognizant of the facts +contained in Beverly's epistle. + +"I have no desire to oppose you in the performance of your functions," +he finally replied, "but really there are very particular reasons why +the contents of this letter should not be made public." + +A very faint indication of a smile passed over the marshal's serious +face; Arthur did not observe it, but continued: + +"I will hand you the letter, for I perceive there has been some mistake +and misapprehension which of course it is your duty to clear up. But you +must promise me that, when your perusal of it shall have satisfied you +that its nature is strictly private, and not offensive to the law, you +will return it me and preserve an inviolable secrecy as to its +contents." + +"When I shall be satisfied on that score, I will do as you desire." + +Arthur handed him the letter, somewhat to the other's surprise, for he +had certainly been watching for an attempt at its destruction, or at +least was prepared for prevarication and stratagem. He took the paper +from its envelope and read it carefully. It was in the following words: + + Richmond, _May_ --, 1861. + + Dear Arthur: This will be handed to you by a sure hand. Communicate + freely with the bearer--he can be trusted. The arms can be safely + shipped as he represents, and you will therefore send them on at + once. Your last communication was of great service to the cause, + and, although I would be glad to have you with us, the President + thinks you are too valuable, for the present, where you are. When + you come, the commission will be ready for you. Yours truly, + + Beverly Weems, Capt. C.S.A. + +"Are you satisfied?" inquired Arthur, after the marshal had silently +concluded his examination of the document. + +"Perfectly satisfied," replied the other, placing the letter in his +pocket. "Mr. Wayne, it is my duty to arrest you." + +"Arrest me!" + +"In the name of the United States." + +"For what offence?" + +"Treason." + +Arthur remained for a while silent with astonishment. At last, as the +marshal arose and took his hat, he said: + +"I cannot conceive what act or word of mine can be construed as +treasonable. There is some mistake, surely; I am a quiet man, a stranger +in the city, and have conversed with but one or two persons since my +arrival. Explain to me, if you please, the particular nature of the +charge against me." + +"It is not my province, at this moment, to do so, Mr. Wayne. It is +sufficient that, upon information lodged with me last evening, and +forwarded to Washington by telegraph, I received from the Secretary of +War orders for your immediate arrest, should I find the information +true. I have found it true, and I arrest you." + +"Surely, nothing in that letter can be so misconstrued as to implicate +me." + +"Mr. Wayne, this prevarication is as useless as it is unseemly. You +_know_ that the letter is sufficient warrant for my proceeding. My +carriage is at the door. I trust you will accompany me without further +delay." + +"Sir, I was about to proceed, when you entered, upon an errand that +involves the safety and happiness of the young lady mentioned in that +letter. The letter itself will inform you of the circumstance, and I +assure you, events are in progress that require my immediate action. You +will at least allow me to visit the party?" + +The marshal looked at him with surprise. + +"What party?" + +"The lady of whom my friend makes mention." + +"I do not understand you. I can only conceive that, for some purpose of +your own, you are anxious to gain time. I must request you to accompany +me at once to the carriage." + +"You will permit me at least to send a, letter--a word--a warning?" + +"That your accomplice may receive information? Assuredly not." + +"Be yourself the messenger--or send"---- + +"This subterfuge is idle." He opened the door and stood beside it. "I +must request your company to the carriage." + +Arthur's cheek flushed for a moment with anger. + +"This severity," he said, "is ridiculous and unjust. I tell you, you and +those for whom you act will be accountable for a great crime--for +innocence betrayed--for a young life made desolate--for perhaps a +dishonored grave. I plead not for myself, but for one helpless and pure, +who at this hour may be the victim of a villain's plot. In the name of +humanity, I entreat you give me but time to avert the calamity, and I +will follow you without remonstrance. Go with me yourself. Be present at +the interview. Of what consequence to you will be an hour's delay?" + +"It may be of much consequence to those who are in league with you. I +cannot grant your request. You must come with me, sir, or I shall be +obliged to call for assistance," and he drew a pair of handcuffs from +his pocket. + +Arthur perceived that further argument or entreaty would be of no avail. +He was much agitated and distressed beyond measure at the possible +misfortune to Miranda, which, by this untimely arrest, he was powerless +to avert. Knowing nothing of the true contents of the letter which +Philip had substituted for the one received from Beverly, he could not +imagine an excuse for the marshal's inflexibility. He was quite ill, +too, and what with fever and agitation, his brain was in a whirl. He +leaned against the chair, faint and dispirited. The painful cough, the +harbinger of that fatal malady which had already brought a sister to an +early grave, oppressed him, and the hectic glowed upon his pale cheeks. +The marshal approached him, and laid his hand gently on his shoulder. + +"You seem ill," he said; "I am sorry to be harsh with you, but I must do +my duty. They will make you as comfortable as possible at the fort. But +you must come." + +Arthur followed him mechanically, and like one in a dream. They stepped +into the carriage and were driven rapidly away; but Arthur, as he +leaned back exhausted in his seat, murmured sorrowfully: + +"And poor little Mary, too! Who will befriend her now?" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +In the upper apartment of a cottage standing alone by the roadside on +the outskirts of Boston, Miranda, pale and dejected, sat gazing vacantly +at the light of the solitary lamp that lit the room. The clock was +striking midnight, and the driving rain beat dismally against the +window-blinds. But one month had passed since her elopement with Philip +Searle, yet her wan cheeks and altered aspect revealed how much of +suffering can be crowded into that little space of time. She started +from her revery when the striking of the timepiece told the lateness of +the hour. Heavy footsteps sounded upon the stairway, and, while she +listened, Philip, followed by Bradshaw, entered the room abruptly. + +"How is this?" asked Philip, angrily. "Why are you not in bed?" + +"I did not know it was so late, Philip," she answered, in a deprecating +tone. "I was half asleep upon the rocking-chair, listening to the +storm. It's a bad night, Philip. How wet you are!" + +He brushed off the hand she had laid upon his shoulder, and muttered, +with bad humor: + +"I've told you a dozen times I don't want you to sit up for me. Fetch +the brandy and glasses, and go to bed." + +"Oh, Philip, it is so late! Don't drink: to-night, Philip. You are wet, +and you look tired. Come to bed." + +"Do as I tell you," he answered, roughly, flinging himself into a chair, +and beckoning Bradshaw to a seat. Miranda sighed, and brought the bottle +and glasses from the closet. + +"Now, you go to sleep, do you hear; and don't be whining and crying all +night, like a sick girl." + +The poor girl moved slowly to the door, and turned at the threshold. + +"Good night, Philip." + +"Oh, good night--there, get along," he cried, impatiently, without +looking at her, and gulping down a tumblerful of spirits. Miranda closed +the door and left the two men alone together. + +They remained silent for a while, Bradshaw quietly sipping his liquor, +and Philip evidently disturbed and angry. + +"You're sure 'twas she?" he asked at last. + +"Oh, bother!" replied Bradshaw. "I'm not a mole nor a blind man. Don't I +know Moll when I see her?" + +"Curse her! she'll stick to me like a leech. What could have brought her +here? Do you think she's tracked me?" + +"She'd track you through fire, if she once got on the scent. Moll ain't +the gal to be fooled, and you know it." + +"What's to be done?" + +"Move out of this. Take the girl to Virginia. You'll be safe enough +there." + +"You're right, Bradshaw. It's the best way. I ought to have done it at +first. But, hang the girl, she'll weary me to death with her sermons and +crying fits. Moll's worth two of her for that, matter--she scolds, but +at least she never would look like a stuck fawn when I came home a +little queer. For the matter of that, she don't mind a spree herself at +times." And, emptying his glass, the libertine laughed at the +remembrance of some past orgies. + +While he was thus, in his half-drunken mood, consoling himself for +present perplexities by dwelling upon the bacchanalian joys of other +days, a carriage drove up the street, and stopped before the door. Soon +afterward, the hall bell was rung, and Philip, alarmed and astonished, +started from his seat. + +"Who's that?" he asked, almost in a whisper. + +"Don't know," replied his companion. + +"She couldn't have traced me here already--unless you have betrayed me, +Bradshaw," he added suddenly, darting a suspicious glance upon his +comrade. + +"You're just drunk enough to be a fool," replied Bradshaw, rising from +his seat, as a second summons, more violent than the first, echoed +through the corridors. "I'll go down and see what's the matter. Some +one's mistaken the house, I suppose. That's all." + +"Let no one in, Bradshaw," cried Philip, as that worthy left the room. +He descended the stairs, opened the door, and presently afterward the +carriage drove rapidly away. Philip, who had been listening earnestly, +could hear the sound of the wheels as they whirled over the pavement. + +"All right," he said, as he applied himself once more to the bottle +before him. "Some fool has mistaken his whereabouts. Curse me, but I'm +getting as nervous as an old woman." + +He was in the act of lifting the glass to his lips, when the door was +flung wide open. The glass fell from his hands, and shivered upon the +floor. Moll stood before him. + +She stood at the threshold with a wicked gleam in her eye, and a smile +of triumph upon her lips; then advanced into the room, closed the door +quietly, locked it, seated herself composedly in the nearest chair, and +filled herself a glass of spirits. Philip glared upon her with an +expression of mingled anger, fear and wonderment. + +"Are you a devil? Where in thunder did you spring from?" he asked at +last. + +"You'll make me a devil, with your tricks, Philip Searle," she said, +sipping the liquor, and looking at him wickedly over the rim of the +tumbler. + +"Ha! ha! ha!" she laughed aloud, as he muttered a curse between his +clenched teeth, "I'm not the country girl, Philip dear, that I was when +you whispered your sweet nonsense in my ear. I know your game, my bully +boy, and I'll play you card for card." + +"Bradshaw" shouted Philip, going to the door and striving to open it. + +"It's no use," she said, "I've got the key in my pocket. Sit down. I +want to talk to you. Don't be a fool." + +"Where's Bradshaw, Moll?" + +"At the depot by this time, I fancy, for the carriage went off at a +deuce of a rate." + +She laughed again, while he paced the room with angry strides. + +"'Twas he, then, that betrayed me. The villain! I'll have his life for +that, as I'm a sinner." + +"Your a great sinner; Philip Searle. Sit down, now, and be quiet. +Where's the girl?" + +"What girl?" + +"Miranda Ayleff. The girl you've ruined; the girl you've put in my +place, and that I've come to drive out of it. Where is she?" + +"Don't speak so loud, Moll. Be quiet, can't you? See here, Moll," he +continued, drawing a chair to her side, and speaking in his old winning +way--"see here, Moll: why can't you just let this matter stand as it is, +and take your share of the plunder? You know I don't care about the +girl; so what difference does it make to you, if we allow her to think +that she's my lawful wife? Come, give us a kiss, Moll, and let's hear no +more about it." + +"Honey won't catch such an old fly as I am, Philip," replied the woman, +but with a gentled tone. "Where is the girl?" she asked suddenly, +starting from the chair. "I want to see her. Is she in there?" + +"No," said Philip, quickly, and rising to her passage to the door of +Miranda's chamber. "She is not there, Moll; you can't see her. Are you +crazy? You'd frighten the poor girl out of her senses." + +"She's in there. I'm going in to speak with her. Yes I shall, Philip, +and you needn't stop me." + +"Keep back. Keep quiet, can't you?" + +"No. Don't hold me, Philip Searle. Keep your hands off me, if you know +what's good for you." + +She brushed past him, and laid her hand upon the door-knob; but he +seized her violently by the arm and pulled her back. The action hurt her +wrist, and she was boiling with rage in a second. With her clenched +fist, she struck him straight in the face repeatedly, while with every +blow, she screamed out an imprecation. + +"Keep quiet, you hag! Keep quiet, confound you!" said the infuriated +man. "Won't you? Take that!" and he planted his fist upon her mouth. + +The woman, through her tears and sobs, howled at him curse upon curse. +With one hand upon her throat, he essayed to choke her utterance, and +thus they scuffled about the room. + +"I'll cut you, Philip; I will, by ----" + +Her hand, in fact, was fumbling about her pocket, and she drew forth a +small knife and thrust it into his shoulder. They were near the table, +over which Philip had thrust her down. He was wild with rage and the +brandy he had drank. His right hand instinctively grasped the heavy +bottle that by chance it came in contact with. The next instant, it +descended full upon her forehead, and with a moan of fear and pain, she +fell like lead upon the floor, and lay bleeding and motionless. + +Philip, still grasping the shattered bottle, gazed aghast upon the +lifeless form. Then a cry of terror burst upon his ear. He turned, and +beheld Miranda, with dishevelled hair, pale as her night-clothes, +standing at the threshold of the open door. With a convulsive shudder, +she staggered into the room, and fainted at his feet, her white arm +stained with the blood that was sinking in little pools into the carpet. + +He stood there gazing from one to the other, but without seeking to +succor either. The fumes of brandy, and the sudden revulsion from active +wrath to apathy, seemed to stupefy his brain. At last he stooped beside +the outstretched form of Molly, and, with averted face, felt in her +pocket and drew out the key. Stealthily, as if he feared that they could +hear him, he moved toward the door, opened it, and passing through, +closed it gently, as one does who would not waken a sleeping child or +invalid. Rapidly, but with soft steps, he descended the stairs, and went +out into the darkness and the storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +When Miranda awakened from her swoon, the lamp was burning dimly, and +the first light of dawn came faintly through the blinds. All was still +around her, and for some moments she could not recall the terrible scene +which had passed before her eyes. Presently her fingers came in contact +with the clots of gore that were thickening on her garment, and she +arose quickly, and, with a shudder, tottered against the wall. Her eyes +fell upon Moll's white face, the brow mangled and bruised, and the +dishevelled hair soaking in the crimson tide that kept faintly oozing +from the cut. She was alone in the house with that terrible object; for +Philip, careless of her convenience, had only procured the services of a +girl from a neighboring farm-house, who attended to the household duties +during the day, and went home in the evening. But her womanly compassion +was stronger than her sense of horror, and kneeling by the side of the +prostrate woman, with inexpressible relief she perceived, by the slight +pulsation of the heart, that life was there. Entering her chamber, she +hastily put on a morning wrapper, and returning with towel and water, +raised Moll's head upon her lap, and washed the thick blood from her +face. The cooling moisture revived the wounded woman; her bosom swelled +with a deep sigh, and she opened her eyes and looked languidly around. + +"How do you feel now, madam?" asked Miranda, gently. + +"Who are you?" said Moll, in reply, after a moment's pause. + +"Miranda--Miranda Searle, the wife of Philip," she added, trembling at +the remembrance of the woman's treatment at her husband's hands. + +Molly raised herself with an effort, and sat upon the floor, looking at +Miranda, while she laughed with a loud and hollow sound. + +"Philip's wife, eh? And you love him, don't you? Well, dreams can't last +forever." + +"Don't you feel strong enough to get up and lie upon the bed?" asked +Miranda, soothingly, for she was uncomfortable tinder the strange glare +that the woman fixed upon her. + +"I'm well enough," said Moll. "Where's Philip?" + +"Indeed, I do not know. I am very sorry, ma'am, that--that"-- + +"Never mind. Give me a glass of water." + +Miranda hastened to comply, and Moll swallowed the water, and remained +silent for a moment. + +"Shan't I go for assistance?" asked Miranda, who was anxious to put an +end to this painful interview, and was also distressed about her +husband's absence. "There's no one except ourselves in the house, but I +can go to the farmer's house near by." + +"Not for the world," interrupted Moll, taking her by the arm. "I'm well +enough. Here, let me lean on you. That's it. I'll sit on the +rocking-chair. Thank you. Just bind my head up, will you? Is it an ugly +cut?" she asked, as Miranda, having procured some linen, carefully +bandaged the wounded part. + +"Oh, yes! It's very bad. Does it pain you much, ma'am?" + +"Never mind. There, that will do. Now sit down there. Don't be afraid of +me. I ain't a-going to hurt you. It's only the cut that makes me look so +ugly." + +"Oh, no! I am not at all afraid, ma'am," said Miranda, shuddering in +spite of herself. + +"You are a sweet-looking girl," said Moll, fixing her haggard, but yet +beautiful eyes upon the fragile form beside her. "It's a pity you must +be unhappy. Has that fellow been unkind to you?" + +"What fellow madam?" + +"Philip." + +"He is my husband, madam," replied Miranda, mildly, but with the +slightest accent of displeasure. + +"He is, eh? Hum! You love him dearly, don't you?" + +Miranda blushed, and asked: + +"Do you know my husband?" + +"Know him! If you knew him as well, it would be better for you. You'll +know him well enough before long. You come from Virginia, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"You must go back there." + +"If Philip wishes it." + +"I tell you, you must go at once--to-day. I will give you money, if you +have none. And you must never speak of what has happened in this house. +Do you understand me?" + +"But Philip"-- + +"Forget Philip. You must never see him any more. Why should you want to? +Don't you know that he's a brute, and will beat you as he beat me, if +you stay with him. Why should you care about him?" + +"He is my husband, and you should not speak about him so to me," said +Miranda, struggling with her tears, and scarce knowing in what vein to +converse with the rude woman, whose strange language bewildered and +frightened her. + +"Bah!" said Moll, roughly. "You're a simpleton. There, don't cry, though +heaven knows you've cause enough, poor thing! Philip Searle's a villain. +I could send him to the State prison if I chose." + +"Oh, no! don't say that; indeed, don't." + +"I tell you I could; but I will not, if you mind me, and do what I tell +you. I'm a bad creature, but I won't harm you, if I can help it. You +helped me when I was lying there, after that villain hurt me, and I +can't help liking you. And yet you've hurt me, too." + +"I!" + +"Yes. Shall I tell you a story? Poor girl! you're wretched enough now, +but you'd better know the truth at once. Listen to me: I was an innocent +girl, like you, once. Not so beautiful, perhaps, and not so good; for I +was always proud and willful, and loved to have my own way. I was a +country girl, and had money left to me by my dead parents. A young man +made my acquaintance. He was gay and handsome, and made me believe that +he loved me. Well, I married him--do you hear? I married him--at the +church, with witnesses, and a minister to make me his true and lawful +wife. Curse him! I wish he had dropped down dead at the altar. There, +you needn't shudder; it would have been well for you if he had. I +married him, and then commenced my days of sorrow and--of guilt. He +squandered my money at the gambling-table, and I was sometimes in rags +and without food. He was drunk half the time, and abused me; but I was +even with him there, and gave him as good as he gave me. He taught me to +drink, and such a time as we sometimes made together would have made +Satan blush. I thought I was low enough; but he drove me lower yet. He +put temptation in my way--he did, curse his black heart! though he +denied it. I fell as low as woman can fall, and then I suppose you think +he left me? Well, he did, for a time; he went off somewhere, and perhaps +it was then he was trying to ruin some other girl, as foolish as I had +been. But he came back, and got money from me--the wages of my sin. And +all the while, he was as handsome, and could talk as softly as if he was +a saint. And with that smooth tongue and handsome face he won another +bride, and married her--married her, I tell you; and that's why I can +send him to the State prison." + +"Send him! Who? My God! what do you mean?" cried Miranda, rising slowly +from her chair, with clasped hands and ashen cheeks. + +"Philip Searle, my husband!" shouted Moll, rising also, and standing +with gleaming eyes before the trembling girl. + +Miranda sank slowly back into her seat, tearless, but shuddering as +with an ague fit. Only from her lips, with a moaning sound, a murmur +came: + +"No, no, no! oh, no!" + +"May God strike me dead this instant, if it is not true!" said Moll, +sadly; for she felt for the poor girl's, distress. + +Miranda rose, her hands pressed tightly against her heart, and moved +toward the door with tottering and uncertain steps, like one who +suffocates and seeks fresh air. Then her white lips were stained with +purple; a red stream gushed from her mouth and dyed the vestment on her +bosom; and ere Moll could reach her, she had sunk, with an agonizing +sob, upon the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +The night after the unhappy circumstance we have related, in the +bar-room of a Broadway hotel, in New York city, a colonel of volunteers, +moustached and uniformed, and evidently in a very unmilitary condition +of unsteadiness, was entertaining a group of convivial acquaintances, +with bacchanalian exercises and martian gossip. + +He had already, with a month's experience at the seat of war, culled the +glories of unfought fields, and was therefore an object of admiration to +his civilian friends, and of envy to several unfledged heroes, whose +maiden swords had as yet only jingled on the pavement of Broadway, or +flashed in the gaslight of saloons. They were yet none the less +conscious of their own importance, these embryo Napoleons, but wore +their shoulder straps with a killing air, and had often, on a sunny +afternoon, stood the fire of bright eyes from innumerable promenading +batteries, with gallantry, to say the least. + +And now they stood, like Caesars, amid clouds of smoke, and wielded +their formidable goblets with the ease of veterans, though not always +with a soldierly precision. And why should they not? Their tailors had +made them heroes, every one; and they had never yet once led the van in +a retreat. + +"And how's Tim?" asked one of the black-coated hangers-on upon +prospective glory. + +"Tim's in hot water," answered the colonel, elevating his chin and elbow +with a gesture more suggestive of Bacchus than of Mars. + +"Hot brandy and water would be more like him," said the acknowledged wit +of the party, looking gravely at the sugar in his empty glass, as if +indifferent to the bursts of laughter which rewarded his appropriate +sally. + +"I'll tell you about it," said the colonel. "Fill up, boys. Thompson, +take a fresh segar." + +Thompson took it, and the boys filled up, while the colonel flung down a +specimen of Uncle Sam's eagle with an emphasis that demonstrated what +he would do for the bird when opportunity offered. + +"You see, we had a party of Congressmen in camp, and were cracking some +champagne bottles in the adjutant's tent. We considered it a military +necessity to floor the legislators, you know; but one old senator was +tough as a siege-gun, and wouldn't even wink at his third bottle. So the +corks flew about like minié balls, but never a man but was too good a +soldier to cry 'hold, enough.' As for that old demijohn of a senator, it +seemed he couldn't hold enough, and wouldn't if he could; so we directed +the main battle against him, and opened a masked battery upon him, by +uncovering a bottle of Otard; but he never flinched. It was a game of +_Brag_ all over, and every one kept ordering 'a little more grape.' +Presently, up slaps a mounted aid, galloping like mad, and in tumbles +the sleepy orderly for the officer of the day. + +"'That's you, Tim,' says I. But Tim was just then singing the Star +Spangled Banner in a convivial whisper to the tune of the Red, White, +and Blue, and wouldn't be disturbed on no account. + +"'Tumble out, Tim,' says I, 'or I'll have you court-martialled and +shot.' + +"'In the neck,' says Tim. But he did manage to tumble out, and finished +the last stanzas with a flourish, for the edification of the mounted +aid-de-camp. + +"'Where's the officer of the day?' asked the aid, looking suspiciously +at Tim's shaky knees. + +"'He stands before you,' replied Tim, steadying himself a little by +affectionately hanging on to the horse's tail. + +"'You sir? you're unfit for duty, and I'll report you, sir, at +headquarters,' said the aid, who was a West Pointer, you know, stiff as +a poker in regimentals. + +"'Sir!--hic,' replied Tim, with an attempt at offended dignity, the +effect of which was rather spoiled by the accompanying hiccough. + +"'Where's the colonel!' asked the aid. + +"'Drunk,' says that rascal, Tim, confidentially, with a knowing wink. + +"'Where's the adjutant?' + +"'Drunk.' + +"'Good God, sir, are you all drunk?' + +"''Cept the surgeon--he's got the measles.' + +"'Orderly, give this dispatch, to the first sober officer you can +find.' + +"'It's no use, captain,' says Tim, 'the regiment's drunk--'cept me, +hic!' and Tim lost his balance, and tumbled over the orderly, for you +see the captain put spurs to his horse rather suddenly, and whisked the +friendly tail out of his hands. + +"So we were all up before the general the next day, but swore ourselves +clear, all except Tim, who had the circumstantial evidence rather too +strong against him." + +"And such are the men in whom the country has placed its trust?" +muttered a grey-headed old gentleman, who, while apparently absorbed in +his newspaper, had been listening to the colonel's narrative. + +A young man who had lounged into the room approached the party and +caught the colonel's eye: + +"Ah! Searle, how are you? Come up and take a drink." + +A further requisition was made upon the bartender, and the company +indulged anew. Searle, although a little pale and nervous, was all life +and gaiety. His coming was a fresh brand on the convivial flame, and +the party, too much exhilarated to be content with pushing one vice to +excess, sallied forth in search of whatever other the great city might +afford. They had not to look far. Folly is at no fault in the metropolis +for food of whatever quality to feed upon; and they were soon +accommodated with excitement to their hearts content at a fashionable +gambling saloon on Broadway. The colonel played with recklessness and +daring that, if he carries it to the battle-field, will wreathe his brow +with laurels; but like many a rash soldier before him, he did not win. +On the contrary, his eagles took flight with a rapidity suggestive of +the old adage that "gold hath wings," and when, long after midnight, he +stood upon the deserted street alone with Philip Searle and his +reflections, he was a sadder and a soberer man. + +"Searle, I'm a ruined man." + +"You'll fight all the better for it," replied Philip, knocking the ashes +from his segar. "Come, you'll never mend the matter by taking cold here +in the night air; where do you put up? I'll see you home." + +"D--n you, you take it easy," said the colonel, bitterly. Philip could +afford to take it easy, for he had most of the colonel's money in his +pocket. In fact, the unhappy votary of Mars was more thoroughly ruined +than his companion was aware of, for when fortune was hitting him +hardest, he had not hesitated to bring into action a reserve of +government funds which had been intrusted to his charge for specific +purposes. + +"Searle," said the colonel, after they had walked along silently for a +few minutes, "I was telling you this evening about that vacant +captaincy." + +"Yes, you were telling me I shouldn't have it," replied Philip, with an +accent of injured friendship. + +"Well, I fancied it out of my power to do anything about it. But"-- + +"Well, but?"-- + +"I think I might get it for you, for--for"---- + +"A consideration?" suggested Philip, interrogatively. + +"Well, to be plain with you, let me have five hundred, and you've won +all of that to-night, and I'll get you the captaincy." + +"We'll talk about it to-morrow morning," replied Philip. + +And in the morning the bargain was concluded; Philip, with the promise +that all should be satisfactorily arranged, started the same day for +Washington, to await the commission so honorably disposed of by the +gallant colonel. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +We will let thirty days pass on, and bear the reader South of the +Potomac, beyond the Federal lines and within rifle-shot of an advanced +picket of the Confederate army, under General Beauregard. It was a +dismal night--the 16th of July. The rain fell heavily and the wind +moaned and shrieked through the lone forests like unhappy spirits +wailing in the darkness. A solitary horseman was cautiously wending his +way through the storm upon the Centreville road and toward the +Confederate Hue. He bore a white handkerchief, and from time to time, as +his ear seemed to catch a sound other than the voice of the tempest, he +drew his rein and raised the fluttering symbol at his drawn sword's +point. Through the dark masses of foliage that skirted the roadside, +presently could be seen the fitful glimmer of a watchfire, and the +traveller redoubled his precautions, but yet rode steadily on. + +"Halt!" cried a stern, loud voice from a clump of bushes that looked +black and threatening in the darkness. The horseman checked his horse +and sat immovable in the centre of the road. + +"Who goes there?" followed quick, in the same deep, peremptory tone. + +"An officer of the United States, with a flag of truce," was answered in +a clear, firm voice. + +"Stand where you are." There was a pause, and presently four dark forms +emerged from the roadside, and stood at the horse's head. + +"You've chosen a strange time for your errand, and a dangerous one," +said one of the party, with a mild and gentlemanly accent. + +"Who speaks?" + +"The officer in command of this picket." + +"Is not that Beverly Weems?" + +"The same. And surely I know that voice." + +"Of course you do, if you know Harold Hare." + +And the stranger, dismounting, stretched out his hand, which was eagerly +and warmly clasped, and followed by a silent and prolonged embrace. + +"How rash you have been, Harold," said Beverly, at last. "It is a mercy +that I was by, else might a bullet have been your welcome. Why did you +not wait till morning?" + +"Because my mission admits of no delay. It is most opportune that I have +met you. You have spoken to me at times, and Oriana often, of your young +cousin, Miranda." + +"Yes, Harold, what of her?" + +"Beverly, she is within a rifle-shot of where we stand, very sick--dying +I believe." + +"Good God, Harold! what strange tale is this?" + +"I am in command of an advanced picket, stationed at the old farm-house +yonder. Toward dusk this evening, a carriage drove up, and when +challenged, a pass was presented, with orders to assist the bearer, +Miranda Ayleff, beyond the lines. I remembered the name, and stepping to +the carriage door, beheld two females, one of whom was bending over her +companion, and holding a vial, a restorative, I suppose, to her lips. + +"'She has fainted, sir,' said the woman, 'and is very ill. I'm afraid +she won't last till she gets to Richmond. Can't you help her; isn't +there a surgeon among you at the farm-house there?' + +"We had no surgeon, but I had her taken into the house, and made as +comfortable as possible. When she recovered from her swoon, she asked +for you, and repeatedly for Oriana, and would not be comforted until I +promised her that she should be taken immediately on to Richmond. 'She +could not die there, among strangers,' she said; 'she must see one +friend before she died. She must go home at once and be forgiven.' And +thus she went, half in delirium, until I feared that her life would pass +away, from sheer exhaustion. I determined to ride over to your picket at +once, not dreaming, however, that you were in command. At dawn to-morrow +we shall probably be relieved, and it might be beyond my power then to +meet her wishes." + +"I need not say how much I thank you, Harold. But you were ever kind and +generous. Poor girl! Let us ride over at once, Harold. Who is her +companion?" + +"A woman some years her senior, but yet young, though prematurely faded. +I could get little from her. Not even her name. She is gloomy and +reserved, even morose at times; but she seems to be kind and attentive +to Miranda." + +Beverly left some hasty instructions with his sergeant, and rode over +with Harold to the farm-house. They found Miranda reclining upon a couch +of blankets, over which Harold had spread his military cloak, for the +dwelling had been stripped of its furniture, and was, in fact, little +more than a deserted ruin. The suffering girl was pale and attenuated, +and her sunken eyes were wild and bright with the fire of delirium. Yet +she seemed to recognize Beverly, and stretched out her thin arms when he +approached, exclaiming in tremulous accents: + +"Take me home, Beverly, oh, take me home!" + +Moll was seated by her side, upon a soldier's knapsack; her chin resting +upon her hands, and her black eyes fixed sullenly upon the floor. She +would give but short and evasive answers to Beverly's questions, and +stubbornly refused to communicate the particulars of Miranda's history. + +"She broke a blood-vessel a month ago in Boston. But she got better, +and was always wanting to go to her friends in Richmond. And so I +brought her on. And now you must take care of her, for I'm going back to +camp." + +This was about all the information she would give, and the two young men +ceased to importune her, and directed their attentions to the patient. + +The carriage was prepared and the cushions so arranged, with the help of +blankets, as to form a kind of couch within the vehicle. Upon this +Miranda was tenderly lifted, and when she was told that she should be +taken home without delay, and would soon see Oriana, she smiled like a +pleased child, and ceased complaining. + +Beverly stood beside his horse, with his hand clasped in Harold's. The +rain poured down upon them, and the single watchfire, a little apart +from which the silent sentinel stood leaning on his rifle, threw its +rude glare upon their saddened faces. + +"Good bye, old friend," said Beverly. "We have met strangely to-night, +and sadly. Pray heaven we may not meet more sadly on the battle-field." + +"Tell Oriana," replied Harold, "that I am with her in my prayers." He +had not spoken of her before, although Beverly had mentioned that she +was at the old manor house, and well. "I have not heard from Arthur," he +continued, "for I have been much about upon scouting parties since I +came, but I doubt not he is well, and I may find a letter when I return +to camp. Good bye; and may our next meeting see peace upon the land." + +They parted, and the carriage, with Beverly riding at its side, moved +slowly into the darkness, and was gone. + +Harold returned into the farm-house, and found Moll seated where he had +left her, and still gazing fixedly at the floor. He did not disturb her, +but paced the floor slowly, lost in his own melancholy thoughts. After a +silence of some minutes, the woman spoke, without looking up. + +"Have they gone?" + +"Yes." + +"She is dying, ain't she?" + +"I fear she is very ill." + +"I tell you, she's dying--and it's better that she is." + +She then relapsed into her former mood, but after a while, as Harold +paused at the window and looked out, she spoke again. + +"Will it soon be day?" + +"Within an hour, I think," replied Harold. "Do you go back at daylight?" + +"Yes." + +"You have no horse?" + +"You'll lend me one, won't you? If you don't, I don't care; I can walk." + +"We will do what we can for you. What is your business at the camp?" + +"Never mind," she answered gruffly. And then, after a pause, she asked: + +"Is there a man named Searle in your army--Philip Searle?" + +"Nay, I know not. There may be. I have never heard the name. Do you seek +such a person? Is he your friend, or relative?" + +"Never mind," she said again, and then was silent as before. + +With the approach of dawn, the sentry challenged an advancing troop, +which proved to be the relief picket guard. Harold saluted the officer +in command, and having left orders respectively with their +subordinates, they entered the farm-house together, and proceeded to the +apartment where Moll still remained seated. She did not seem to notice +their entrance; but when the new-comer's voice, in some casual remark, +reached her ear, she rose up suddenly, and walking straight forward to +where the two stood, looking out at the window, she placed her hand +heavily, and even rudely, upon his shoulder. He turned at the touch, and +beholding her, started back, with not only astonishment, but fear. + +"You needn't look so white, Philip Searle," she said at last, in a low, +hoarse tone. "It's not a ghost you're looking at. But perhaps you're +only angry that you only half did your business while you were at it." + +"Where did you pick up this woman?" asked Searle of Harold, drawing him +aside. + +"She came with an invalid on her way to Richmond," replied Harold. + +"What invalid?" + +He spoke almost in a whisper, but Moll overheard him, and answered +fiercely: + +"One that is dying, Philip; and you know well enough who murdered her. +'Twasn't me you struck the hardest blow that night. Do you see that +scar? That's nothing; but you struck her to the heart." + +"What does she mean?" asked Harold, looking sternly into Philip's +disturbed eye. + +"Heaven knows. She's mad," he answered. "Did she tell you nothing--no +absurd story?" + +"Nothing. She was sullen and uncommunicative, and half the time took no +notice of our questions." + +"No wonder, poor thing!" said Philip. "She's mad. However, I have some +little power with her, and if you will leave us alone awhile, I will +prevail upon her to go quietly back to Washington." + +Harold went up to the woman, who was leaning with folded arms against +the wall, and spoke kindly to her. + +"Should you want assistance, I will help you. We shall be going in half +an hour. You must be ready to go with us, you know, for you can't stay +here, where there may be fighting presently." + +"Thank you," she replied. "Don't mind me. I can take care of myself. +You can leave us alone together. I'm not afraid of him." + +Harold left the room, and busied himself about the preparations for +departure. Left alone with the woman he had wronged, Philip for some +moments paced the room nervously and with clouded brow. Finally, he +stopped abruptly before Moll, who had been following his motions with +her wild, unquiet eyes. + +"Where have you sprung from now, and what do you want?" + +"Do you see that scar?" she said again, but more fiercely than before. +"While that lasts, there's no love 'twixt you and me, and it'll last me +till my death." + +"Then why do you trouble me. If you don't love me, why do you hang about +me wherever I go? We'll be better friends away from each other than +together. Why don't you leave me alone?" + +"Ha! ha! we must be quits for that, you know," she answered, rather +wildly, and pointing to her forehead. "Do you think I'm a poor whining +fool like her, to get sick and die when you abuse me? I'll haunt you +till I die, Philip; and after, too, if I can, to punish you for that." + +Philip fancied that he detected the gleam of insanity in her eye, and he +was not wrong, for the terrible blow he had inflicted had injured her +brain; and her mind, weakened by dissipation and the action of +excitement upon her violent temperament, was tottering upon the verge of +madness. + +"When I was watching that poor sick girl," she continued, "I thought I +could have loved her, she was so beautiful and gentle, as she lay there, +white and thin, and never speaking a word against you, Philip, but +thinking of her friends far away, and asking to be taken home--home, +where her mother was sleeping under the sod--home, to be loved and +kissed again before she died. And I would have loved her if I hadn't +hated you so much that there wasn't room for the love of any living +creature in my bad heart. I used to sit all night and hear her +talk--talk in her dreams and in her fever--as if there were kind people +listening to her, people that were kind to her long ago. And the room +seemed full of angels sometimes, so that I was afraid to move and look +about; for I could swear I heard the fanning of their wings and the +rustle of their feet upon the carpet. Sometimes I saw big round tears +upon her wasted cheeks, and I wouldn't brush them away, for they looked +like jewels that the angels had dropped there. And then I tried to cry +myself, but, ha! ha! I had to laugh instead, although my heart was +bursting. I wished I could have cried; I'm sure it would have made my +heart so light, and perhaps it would have burst that ring of hot iron +that was pressing so hard around my head. It's there now, sinking and +burning right against my temples. But I can't cry, I haven't since I was +a little girl, long ago, long ago; but I think I cried when mother died, +long ago, long ago." + +She was speaking in a kind of dreamy murmur, while Philip paced the +room; and finally she sank down upon the floor, and sat there with her +hands pressed against her brows, rocking herself to and fro. + +"Moll," said Philip, stooping over her, and speaking in a gentle tone, +"I'm sorry I struck you, indeed I am; but I was drunk, and when you cut +me, I didn't know what I was about. Now let's be friends, there's a +good girl. You must go back to Washington, you know, and to New York, +and stay there till I come back. Won't you, now, Moll?" + +"Won't I? No, Philip Searle, I won't. I'll stay by you till you kill me; +yes, I will. You want to go after that poor girl and torment her; but +she's dying and soon you won't be able to hurt her any more." + +"Was it she, Moll, was it Miranda that came here with you? Was she going +to Richmond?" + +"She was going to heaven, Philip Searle, out of the reach of such as you +and me. I'm good enough for you, Philip, bad as I am; and I'm your wife, +besides." + +"You told her that?" + +"Told her? Ha! ha! Told her? do you think I'm going to make that a +secret? No, no. We're a bad couple, sure enough; but I'm not going to +deny you, for all that. Look you, young man," she continued, addressing +Harold, who at that moment entered the room, "that is Philip Searle, and +Philip Searle is my husband--my husband, curse his black heart! and if +he dares deny it, I'll have him in the State prison, for I can do it." + +"She's perfectly insane," said Philip; but Harold looked thoughtful and +perplexed, and scanned his fellow-officer's countenance with a searching +glance. + +"At all events," he said, "she must not remain here. My good woman, we +are ready now, and you must come with us. We have a horse for you, and +will make you comfortable. Are you ready?" + +"No," she replied, sullenly, "I won't go. I'll stay with my husband." + +"Nay," remonstrated Harold, gently, "you cannot stay here. This is no +place for women. When we arrive at headquarters, you shall tell your +story to General McDowell, and he will see that you are taken care of, +and have justice if you have been wronged. But you must not keep us +waiting. We are soldiers, you know, and must do our duty." + +Still, however, she insisted upon remaining where she was; but when two +soldiers, at a gesture from Harold, approached and took her gently by +the arms, she offered no resistance, and suffered herself to be led +quietly out. Harold coldly saluted Searle, and left him in charge of the +post; while himself and party, accompanied by Moll and the coachman who +had driven them from Washington, were soon briskly marching toward the +camp. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Toward dusk of the same day, while Philip and his lieutenant were seated +at the rude pine table, conversing after their evening meal, the +sergeant of the guard entered with a slip of paper, on which was traced +a line in pencil. + +"Is the bearer below?" asked Philip, as he cast his eyes over the paper. + +"Yes, sir. He was challenged a minute ago, and answered with the +countersign and that slip for you, sir." + +"It's all right, sergeant; you may send him up. Mr. Williams," he +continued, to his comrade, "will you please to look about a little and +see that all is in order. I will speak a few words with this messenger." + +The lieutenant and sergeant left the room, and presently afterward there +entered, closing the door carefully after him, no less a personage than +Seth Rawbon. + +"You're late," said Philip, motioning him to a chair. + +"There's an old proverb to answer that," answered Rawbon, as he +leisurely adjusted his lank frame upon the seat. Having established +himself to his satisfaction, he continued: + +"I had to make a considerable circuit to avoid the returning picket, who +might have bothered me with questions. I'm in good time, though. If +you've made up your mind to go, you'll do it as well by night, and safer +too." + +"What have you learned?" + +"Enough to make me welcome at headquarters. You were right about the +battle. There'll be tough work soon. They're fixing for a general +advance. If you expect to do your first fighting under the stars and +bars, you must swear by them to-night." + +"Have you been in Washington?" + +"Every nook and corner of it. They don't keep their eyes skinned, I +fancy, up there. Your fancy colonels have slippery tongues when the +champagne corks are flying. If they fight as hard as they drink, they'll +give us trouble. Well, what do you calculate to do?" he added, after a +pause, during which Philip was moody and lost in thought. + +Philip rose from his seat and paced the floor uneasily, while Rawbon +filled a glass from a flask of brandy on the table. It was now quite +dark without, and neither of them observed the figure of a woman +crouched on the narrow veranda, her chin resting on the sill of the open +window. At last Philip resumed his seat, and he, too, swallowed a deep +draught from the flask of brandy. + +"Tell me what I can count upon?" he asked. + +"The same grade you have, and in a crack regiment. It's no use asking +for money. They've none to spare for such as you--now don't look +savage--I mean they won't buy men that hain't seen service, and you +can't expect them to. I told you all about that before, and it's time +you had your mind made up." + +"What proofs of good faith can you give me?" + +Rawbon thrust his hand into his bosom and drew out a roll of parchment. + +"This commission, under Gen. Beauregard's hand, to be approved when you +report yourself at headquarters." + +Philip took the document and read it attentively, while Rawbon occupied +himself with filling his pipe from a leathern pouch. The female figure +stepped in at the window, and, gliding noiselessly into the room, seated +herself in a third chair by the table before either of the men became +aware of her presence. They started up with astonishment and +consternation. She did not seem to heed them, but leaning upon the +table, she stretched her hand to the brandy flask and applied it to her +lips. + +"Who's this?" demanded Rawbon, with his hand upon the hilt of his large +bowie knife. + +"Curse her! my evil genius," answered Philip, grating his teeth with +anger. It was Moll. + +"What's this, Philip!" she said, clutching the parchment which had been +dropped upon the table. + +"Leave that," ejaculated her husband, savagely, and darting to take it +from her. + +But she eluded his grasp, and ran with the document into a corner of the +room. + +"Ha! ha! ha! I know what it is," she said, waving it about as a +schoolboy sometimes exultingly exhibits a toy that he has mischievously +snatched from a comrade. + +"It's your death-warrant, Philip Searle, if somebody sees it over +yonder. I heard you. I heard you. You're going over to fight for Jeff. +Davis. Well, I don't care, but I'll go with you. Don't come near me. +Don't hurt me, Philip, or I'll scream to the soldier out there." + +"I won't hurt you, Moll. Be quiet now, there's a good girl. Come here +and take a sup more of brandy." + +"I won't. You want to hurt me. But you can't. I'm a match for you both. +Ha! ha! You don't know how nicely I slipped away from the soldiers when +they, were resting. I went into the thick bushes, right down in the +water, and lay still. I wanted to laugh when I saw them, hunting for me, +and I could almost have touched the young officer if I had wished. But I +lay still as a mouse, and they went off and never found me. Ha! ha! ha!" + +"Is she drunk or mad?" asked Rawbon. + +"Mad," answered Philip, "but cunning enough to do mischief, if she has a +mind to. Moll, dear, come sit down here and be quiet; come, now." + +"Mad? mad?" murmured Moll, catching his word. "No, I'm not mad," she +continued wildly, passing her hands over her brows, "but I saw spirits +just now in the woods, and heard voices, and they've frightened me. The +ghost of the girl that died in the hospital was there. You knew little +blue-eyed Lizzie, Philip. She was cursing me when she died and calling +for her mother. But I don't care. The man paid me well for getting her, +and 'twasn't my fault if she got sick and died. Poor thing! poor thing! +poor little blue-eyed Lizzie! She was innocent enough when she first +came, but she got to be as bad as any--until she got sick and died. Poor +little Lizzie!" And thus murmuring incoherently, the unhappy woman sat +down upon the floor, and bent her head upon her knees. + +"Clap that into her mouth," whispered Philip, handing Rawbon his +handkerchief rolled tightly into a ball. "Quietly now, but quick. Look +out now. She's strong as a trooper." + +They approached her without noise, but suddenly, and while Philip +grasped her wrists, Rawbon threw back her head, and forcing the jaws +open by a violent pressure of his knuckles against the joint, thrust +the handkerchief between her teeth and bound it tightly there with two +turns of his sash. The shriek was checked upon her lips and changed into +a painful, gurgling groan. The poor creature, with convulsive efforts, +struggled to free her arms from Philip's grasp, but he managed to keep +his hold until Rawbon had secured her wrists with the stout cord that +suspended his canteen. A silk neckerchief was then tightly bound around +her ankles, and Moll, with heaving breast and glaring eyes, lay, moaning +piteously, but speechless and motionless, upon the floor. + +"We can leave her there," said Rawbon. "It's not likely any of your men +will come in, until morning at least. Let's be off at once." + +Philip snatched up the parchment where it had fallen, and silently +followed his companion. + +"We are going beyond the line to look about a bit," he said to the +sergeant on duty, as they passed his post. "Keep all still and quiet +till we return." + +"Take some of the boys with you, captain," replied the sergeant. "We're +unpleasant close to those devils, sir." + +"It's all right, sergeant. There's no danger," And nodding to Seth, the +two walked leisurely along the road until concealed by the darkness, +when they quickened their pace and pushed boldly toward the Confederate +lines. + +Half an hour, or less perhaps, after their departure, the sentry, posted +at about a hundred yards from the house, observed an unusual light +gleaming from the windows of the old farm-house. He called the attention +of Lieutenant Williams, who was walking by in conversation with the +sergeant, to the circumstance. + +"Is not the captain there?" asked the lieutenant. + +"No, sir," replied the sergeant, "he started off to go beyond the line +half an hour ago." + +"Alone?" + +"No, sir; that chap that came in at dusk was with him." + +"It's strange he should have gone without speaking to me about it." + +"I wanted him to take some of our fellows along, sir, but he didn't care +to. By George! that house is afire, sir. Look there." + +While talking, they had been proceeding toward the farm-house, when the +light from the windows brightened suddenly into a broad glare, and +called forth the sergeant's exclamation. Before they reached the +building a jet of flame had leaped from one of the casements, and +continued to whirl like a flaming ribbon in the air. They quickened +their pace to a run, and bursting into the doorway, were driven back by +a dense volume of smoke, that rolled in black masses along the corridor. +They went in again, and the sergeant pushed open the door of the room +where Moll lay bound, but shut it quickly again, as a tongue of flame +lashed itself toward him like an angry snake. + +"It's all afire, sir," he said, coughing and spluttering through the +smoke. "Are there any of the captain's traps inside?" + +"Nothing at all," replied the lieutenant. "Let's go in, however, and see +what can be done." + +They entered, but were driven back by the baffling smoke and the flames +that were now licking all over the dry plastering of the room. + +"It's no use," said the lieutenant, when they had gained their breath in +the open air. "There's no water, except in the brook down yonder, and +what the men have in their canteens. The house is like tinder. Let it +go, sergeant; it's not worth saving at the risk of singing your +whiskers." + +The men had now come up, and gathered about the officer to receive his +commands. + +"Let the old shed go, my lads," he said. "It's well enough that some +rebel should give us a bonfire now and then. Only stand out of the +glare, boys, or you may have some of those devils yonder making targets +of you." + +The men fell back into the shadow, and standing in little groups, or +seated upon the sward, watched the burning house, well pleased to have +some spectacle to relieve the monotony of the night. And they looked +with indolent gratification, passing the light jest and the merry word, +while the red flames kept up their wild sport, and great masses of +rolling vapor upheaved from the crackling roof, and blackened the +midnight sky. None sought to read the mystery of that conflagration. It +was but an old barn gone to ashes a little before its time. Perhaps some +mischievous hand among them had applied the torch for a bit of +deviltry. Perhaps the flames had caught from Rawbon's pipe, which he had +thrown carelessly among a heap of rubbish when startled by Molly's +sudden apparition. Or yet, perhaps, though Heaven forbid it, for the +sake of human nature, the same hand that had struck so nearly fatally +once, had been tempted to complete the work of death in a more terrible +form. + +But within those blistering walls, who can tell what ghastly revels the +mad flames were having over their bound and solitary victim! Perhaps, as +she lay there with distended jaws, and eyeballs starting from their +sockets, that brain, amid the visions of its madness, became conscious +of the first kindling of the subtle element that was so soon to clasp +her in its terrible embrace. How dreadful, while the long minutes +dragged, to watch its stealthy progress, and to feel that one little +effort of an unbound hand could avert the danger, and yet to lie there +helpless, motionless, without even the power to give utterance to the +shriek of terror which strained her throat to suffocation. And then, as +the creeping flame became stronger and brighter, and took long and +silent leaps from one object to another, gliding along the lathed, and +papered wall, rolling and curling along the raftered ceiling, would not +the wretched woman, raving already in delirium, behold the spectres that +her madness feared, beckoning to her in the lurid glare, or gliding in +and out among the wild fires that whirled in fantastic gambols around +and overhead! Nearer and nearer yet the rolling flame advances; it +commences to hiss and murmur in its progress; it wreathes itself about +the chairs and tables, and laps up the little pool of brandy spilled +from the forgotten flask; it plays about her feet, and creeps lazily +amid the folds of her gown, yet wet from the brook in which she had +concealed herself that day; it scorches and shrivels up the flesh upon +her limbs, while pendent fiery tongues leap from the burning rafters, +and kiss her cheeks and brows where the black veins swell almost to +bursting; every muscle and nerve of her frame is strained with +convulsive efforts to escape, but the cords only sink into the bloating +flesh, and she lies there crisping like a log, and as powerless to +move. The dense, black smoke hangs over her like a pall, but prostrate +as she is, it cannot sink low enough to suffocate and end her agony. How +the bared bosom heaves! how the tortured limbs writhe, and the +blackening cuticle emits a nauseous steam! The black blood oozing from +her nostrils proclaims how terrible the inward struggle. The whole frame +bends and shrinks, and warps like a fragment of leather thrown into a +furnace--the flame has reached her vitals--at last, by God's mercy, she +is dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +At dawn of the morning of the 21st of July, an officer in plain undress +was busily writing at a table in a plainly-furnished apartment of a +farm-house near Manassas. He was of middle age and medium size, with +dark complexion, bold, prominent features, and steady, piercing black +eyes. His manner and the respectful demeanor of several officers in +attendance, rather than any insignia of office which he wore, bespoke +him of high rank; and the earnest attention which he bestowed upon his +labor, together with the numerous orders, written and verbal, which he +delivered at intervals to members of his staff, denoted that an affair +of importance was in hand. Several horses, ready caparisoned, were held +by orderlies at the door-way, and each aid, as he received instructions, +mounted and dashed away at a gallop. + +The building was upon a slight elevation of land, and along the plain +beneath could be seen the long rows of tents and the curling smoke of +camp-fires; while the hum of many voices in the distance, with here and +there a bugle-blast and the spirit-stirring roll of drums, denoted the +site of the Confederate army. The reveille had just sounded, and the din +of active preparation could be heard throughout the camp. Regiments were +forming, and troops of horse were marshalling in squadron, while others +were galloping here and there; while, through the ringing of sabres and +the strains of marshal music, the low rumbling of the heavy-wheeled +artillery was the most ominous sound. + +An orderly entered the apartment where General Beauregard was writing, +and spoke with one of the members of the staff in waiting. + +"What is it, colonel?" asked the general, looking up. + +"An officer from the outposts, with two prisoners, general." And he +added something in a lower tone. + +"Very opportune," said Beauregard. "Let them come in." + +The orderly withdrew and reentered with Captain Weems, followed by +Philip Searle and Rawbon. A glance of recognition passed between the +latter and Beauregard, and Seth, obeying a gesture of the general, +advanced and placed a small package on the table. The general opened it +hastily and glanced over its contents. + +"As I thought," he muttered. "You are sure as to the disposition of the +advance?" + +"Quite sure of the main features." + +"When did you get in?" + +"Only an hour ago. Their vanguard was close behind. Before noon, I think +they will be upon you in three columns from the different roads." + +"Very well, you may go now. Come to me in half an hour. I shall have +work for you. Who is that with you?" + +"Captain Searle." + +"Of whom we spoke?" + +"The same." + +The general nodded, and Seth left the apartment. Beauregard for a second +scanned Philip's countenance with a searching glance. + +"Approach, sir, if you please. We have little time for words. Have you +information to impart?" + +"Nothing beyond what I think you know already. You may expect at every +moment to hear the boom of McDowell's guns." + +"On the right?" + +"I think the movement will be on your left. Richardson remains on the +southern road, in reserve. Tyler commands the centre. Carlisle, Bicket +and Ayre will give you trouble there with their batteries. Hunter and +Heintzelman, with fourteen thousand, will act upon your left." + +"Then we are wrong, Taylor," said Beauregard, turning to an officer at +his side; and rising, the two conversed for a moment in low but earnest +tone. + +"It is plausible," said Beauregard, at length. "Taylor, ride down to Bee +and see about it. Captain Searle, you will report yourself to Colonel +Hampton at once. He will have orders for you. Captain Weems, you will +please see him provided for. Come, gentlemen, to the field!" + +The general and his staff were soon mounted and riding rapidly toward +the masses and long lines of troops that were marshalling on the plain +below. + +Beverly stood at the doorway alone with Philip Searle. He was grave and +sad, although the bustle and preparation of an expected battle lent a +lustre to his eye. To his companion he was stern and distant, and they +both walked onward for some moments without a word. At a short distance +from the building, they came upon a black groom holding two saddled +horses. + +"Mount, sir, if you please," said Beverly, and they rode forward at a +rapid pace. Philip was somewhat surprised to observe that their course +lay away from the camp, and in fact the sounds of military life were +lessening as they went on. They passed the brow of the hill and +descended by a bridle-path into a little valley, thick with shrubbery +and trees. At the gateway of a pleasant looking cottage Beverly drew +rein. + +"I must ask you to enter here," he said, dismounting. "Within a few +hours we shall both be, probably, in the ranks of battle; but first I +have a duty to perform." + +They entered the cottage, within which all was hushed and still; the +sounds of an active household were not heard. They ascended the little +stair, and Beverly pushed gently open the door of an apartment and +motioned to Philip to enter. He paused at first, for as he stood on the +threshold a low sob reached his ear. + +"Pass in," said Beverly, in a grave, stern tone. "I have promised that I +would bring you, else, be assured, I would not linger in your presence." + +They entered. It was a small, pleasant room, and through the lattice +interwoven with woodbine the rising sun looked in like a friendly +visitor. Upon a bed was stretched the form of a young girl, sleeping or +dead, it would be hard to tell, the features were so placid and +beautiful in repose. One ray of sunlight fell among the tangles of her +golden hair, and glowed like a halo above the marble-white brow. The +long dark lashes rested upon her cheek with a delicate contrast like +that of the velvety moss when it peeps from the new-fallen snow. Her +hands were folded upon her bosom above the white coverlet; they clasped +a lily, that seemed as if sculptured upon a churchyard stone, so white +was the flower, so white the bosom that it pressed. One step nearer +revealed that she was dead; earthly sleep was never so calm and +beautiful. By the bedside Oriana Weems was seated, weeping silently. +She arose when her brother entered, and went to him, putting her hands +about his neck. Beverly tenderly circled his arm about her waist, and +they stood together at the bedside, gazing on all that death had left +upon earth of their young cousin, Miranda. + +"She died this morning very soon after you left," said Oriana, "without +pain and I think without sorrow, for she wore that same sweet smile that +you see now frozen upon her lips. Oh, Beverly, I am sorry you brought +_him_ here!" she added, in a lower tone, glancing with a shudder at +Philip Searle, who stood looking with a frown out at the lattice, and +stopping the sunbeam from coming into the room. "It seems," she +continued, "as if his presence brought a curse that would drag upon the +angels' wings that are bearing her to heaven. Though, thank God, she is +beyond his power to harm her now!" and she knelt beside the pillow and +pressed her lips upon the cold, white brow. + +"She wished to see him, Oriana, before she died," said Beverly, "and I +promised to bring him; and yet I am glad she passed away before his +coming, for I am sure he could bring no peace with him for the dying, +and his presence now is but an insult to the dead." + +When he had spoken, there was silence for a while, which was broken by +the sudden boom of a distant cannon. They all started at the sound, for +it awakened them from mournful memories, to yet perhaps more solemn +thoughts of what was to come before that bright sun should rise upon the +morrow. Beverly turned slowly to where Philip stood, and pointed sternly +at the death-bed. + +"You have seen enough, if you have dared to look at all," he said. "I +have not the power, nor the will, to punish. A soldier's death to-day is +what you can best pray for, that you may not live to think of this +hereafter. She sent for you to forgive you, but died and you are +unforgiven. Bad as you are, I pity you that you must go to battle +haunted by the remembrance of this murder that you have done." + +Philip half turned with an angry curl upon his lip, as if prepared for +some harsh answer; but he saw the white thin face and folded hands, and +left the room without a word. + +"Farewell! dear sister," said Beverly, clasping the weeping girl in his +arms. "I have already overstaid the hour, and must spur hard to be at my +post in time. God bless you! it may be I shall never see you again; if +so, I leave you to God and my country. But I trust all will be well." + +"Oh, Beverly! come back to me, my brother; I am alone in the world +without you. I would not have you swerve from your duty, although death +came with it; but yet, remember that I am alone without you, and be not +rash or reckless. I will watch and pray for you beside this death-bed, +Beverly, while you are fighting, and may God be with you." + +Beverly summoned an old negress to the room, and consigned his sister to +her care. Descending the stairs rapidly, he leaped upon his horse, and +waving his hand to Philip, who was already mounted, they plunged along +the valley, and ascending the crest of the hill, beheld, while they +still spurred on, the vast army in motion before them, while far off in +the vanward, from time to time, the dull, heavy booming of artillery +told that the work was already begun. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +On the evening of the 20th July, Hunter's division, to which Harold Hare +was attached, was bivouacked on the old Braddock Road, about a mile and +a half southeast of Centreville. It was midnight. There was a strange +and solemn hush throughout the camp, broken only by the hail of the +sentinel and the occasional trampling of horses hoofs, as some +aid-de-camp galloped hastily along the line. Some of the troops were +sleeping, dreaming, perhaps, of home, and far away, for the time, from +the thought of the morrow's danger. But most were keeping vigil through +the long hours of darkness, communing with themselves or talking in low +murmurs with some comrade; for each soldier knew that the battle-hour +was at hand. Harold was stretched upon his cloak, striving in vain to +win the boon of an hour's sleep, for he was weary with the toil of the +preceding day; but he could not shut out from his brain the whirl of +excitement and suspense which that night kept so many tired fellows +wakeful when they most needed rest. It was useless to court slumber, on +the eve, perhaps, of his eternal sleep; he arose and walked about into +the night. + +Standing beside the dying embers of a watchfire, wrapped in his blanket, +and gazing thoughtfully into the little drowsy flames that yet curled +about the blackened fagots, was a tall and manly form, which Harold +recognized as that of his companion in arms, a young lieutenant of his +company. He approached, and placed his hand upon his fellow-soldier's +arm. + +"What book of fate are you reading in the ashes, Harry?" he asked, in a +pleasant tone, anxious to dispel some portion of his own and his +comrade's moodiness. + +The soldier turned to him and smiled, but sorrowfully and with effort. + +"My own destiny, perhaps," he answered. "Those ashes were glowing once +with light and warmth, and before the dawn they will be cold, as you or +I may be to-morrow, Harold." + +"I thought you were too old a soldier to nurse such fancies upon the +eve of battle. I must confess that I, who am a novice in this work, am +as restless and nervous as a woman; but you have been seasoned by a +Mexican campaign, and I came to you expressly to be laughed into +fortitude again." + +"You must go on till you meet one more lighthearted than myself," +answered the other, with a sigh. "Ah! Harold, I have none of the old +elasticity about me to-night. I would I were back under my father's +roof, never to hear the roll of the battle-drum again. This is a cruel +war, Harold." + +"A just one." + +"Yes, but cruel. Have you any that you love over yonder, Harold? Any +that are dear to you, and that you must strike at on the morrow?" + +"Yes, Harry, that is it. It is, as you say, a cruel war." + +"I have a brother there," continued his companion; and he looked sadly +into the gloom, as if he yearned through the darkness and distance to +catch a glimpse of the well-known form. "A brother that, when I last saw +him, was a little rosy-cheeked boy, and used to ride upon my knee. He +is scarce more than a boy now, and yet he will shoulder his musket +to-morrow, and stand in the ranks perhaps to be cut down by the hand +that has caressed him. He was our mother's darling, and it is a mercy +that she is not living to see us armed against each other." + +"It is a painful thought," said Harold, "and one that you should dismiss +from contemplation. The chances are thousands to one that you will never +meet in battle." + +"I trust the first bullet that will be fired may reach my heart, rather +than that we should. But who can tell? I have a strange, gloomy feeling +upon me; I would say a presentiment, if I were superstitious." + +"It is a natural feeling upon the eve of battle. Think no more of it. +Look how prettily the moon is creeping from under the edge of yonder +cloud. We shall have a bright day for the fight, I think." + +"Yes, that's a comfort. One fights all the better in the warm sunlight, +as if to show the bright heavens what bloodthirsty devils we can be upon +occasion. Hark!" + +It was the roll of the drum, startling the stillness of the night; and +presently, the brief, stern orders of the sergeants could be heard +calling the men into the ranks. There is a strange mingled feeling of +awe and excitement in this marshalling of men at night for a dangerous +expedition. The orders are given instinctively in a more subdued and +sterner tone, as if in unison with the solemnity of the hour. The tramp +of marching feet strikes with a more distinct and hollow sound upon the +ear. The dark masses seem to move more compactly, as if each soldier +drew nearer to his comrade for companionship. The very horses, although +alert and eager, seem to forego their prancing, and move with sober +tread. And when the word "forward!" rings along the dark column, and the +long and silent ranks bend and move on as with an electric impulse, +there is a thrill in every vein, and each heart contracts for an +instant, as if the black portals of a terrible destiny were open in the +van. + +A half hour of silent hurry and activity passed away, and at last the +whole army was in motion. It was now three o'clock; the moon shone down +upon the serried ranks, gleaming from bayonet and cannon, and +stretching long black shadows athwart the road. From time to time along +the column could be heard the ringing voice of some commander, as he +galloped to the van, cheering his men with some well-timed allusion, or +dispelling the surrounding gloom with a cheerful promise of victory. +Where the wood road branched from the Warrentown turnpike, Gen. +McDowell, standing in his open carriage, looked down upon the passing +columns, and raised his hat, when the excited soldiers cheered as they +hurried on. Here Hunter's column turned to the right, while the main +body moved straight on to the centre. Then all became more silent than +before, and the light jest passing from comrade to comrade was less +frequent, for each one felt that every step onward brought him nearer to +the foe. + +The eastern sky soon paled into a greyish light, and ruddy streaks +pushed out from the horizon. The air breathed fresher and purer than in +the darkness, and the bright sun, with an advance guard of thin, rosy +clouds, shot upward from the horizon in a blaze of splendor. It was the +Sabbath morn. + +The boom of a heavy gun is heard from the centre. Carlisle has opened +the ball. The day's work is begun. Another! The echoes spring from the +hillsides all around, like a thousand angry tongues that threaten death. +But on the right, no trace of an enemy is to be seen. Burnside's brigade +was in the van; they reached the ford at Sudley's Springs; a momentary +confusion ensues as the column prepares to cross. Soon the men are +pushing boldly through the shallow stream, but the temptation is too +great for their parched throats; they stoop to drink and to fill their +canteens from the cool wave. But as they look up they see a cloud of +dust rolling up from the plain beyond, and their thirst has passed +away--they know that the foe is there. + +An aid comes spurring down the bank, waving his hand and splashing into +the stream. + +"Forward, men! forward!" + +Hunter gallops to meet him, with his staff clattering at his horse's +heels. + +"Break the heads of regiments from the column and push on--push on!" + +The field officers dash along the ranks, and the men spring to their +work, as the word of command is echoed from mouth to mouth. + +Crossing the stream, their course extended for a mile through a thick +wood, but soon they came to the open country, with undulating fields, +rolling toward a little valley through which a brooklet ran. And beyond +that stream, among the trees and foliage which line its bank and extend +in wooded patches southward, the left wing of the enemy are in battle +order. + +From a clump of bushes directly in front, came a puff of white smoke +wreathed with flame; the whir of the hollow ball is heard, and it +ploughs the moist ground a few rods from our advance. + +Scarcely had the dull report reverberated, when, in quick succession, a +dozen jets of fire gleamed out, and the shells came plunging into the +ranks. Burnside's brigade was in advance and unsupported, but under the +iron hail the line was formed, and the cry "Forward!" was answered with +a cheer. A long grey line spread out upon the hillside, forming rapidly +from the outskirts of the little wood. It was the Southern infantry, +and soon along their line a deadly fire of musketry was opened. + +Meanwhile the heavy firing from the left and further on, announced that +the centre and extreme left were engaged. A detachment of regulars was +sent to Burnside's relief, and held the enemy in check till a portion of +Porter's and Heintzelman's division came up and pressed them back from +their position. + +The battle was fiercely raging in the centre, where the 69th had led the +van and were charging the murderous batteries with the bayonet. We must +leave their deeds to be traced by the historic pen, and confine our +narrative to the scene in which Harold bore a part. The nearest battery, +supported by Carolinians, had been silenced. The Mississippians had +wavered before successive charges, and an Alabama regiment, after four +times hurling back the serried ranks that dashed against them, had +fallen back, outflanked and terribly cut up. On the left was a +farm-house, situated on an elevated ridge a little back from the road. +Within, while the fiercest battle raged, was its solitary inmate, an +aged and bed-ridden lady, whose paralyzed and helpless form was +stretched upon the bed where for fourscore years she had slept the calm +sleep of a Christian. She had sent her attendants from the dwelling to +seek a place of safety, but would not herself consent to be removed, for +she heard the whisper of the angel of death, and chose to meet, him +there in the house of her childhood. For the possession of the hill on +which the building stood, the opposing hosts were hotly struggling. The +fury of the battle seemed to concentre there, and through the time-worn +walls the shot was plunging, splintering the planks and beams, and +shivering the stone foundation. Sherman's battery came thundering up the +hill upon its last desperate advance. Just as the foaming horses were +wheeled upon its summit, the van of Hampton's legion sprang up the +opposite side, and the crack of a hundred rifles simultaneously sounded. +Down fell the cannoneers beside their guns before those deadly missiles, +and the plunging horses were slaughtered in the traces, or, wounded to +the death, lashed out their iron hoofs among the maimed and writhing +soldiers and into the heaps of dead. The battery was captured, but held +only fop an instant, when two companies of Rhode Islanders, led on by +Harold Hare, charged madly up the hill. + +"Save the guns, boys!" he cried, as the gallant fellows bent their heads +low, and sprang up the ascent right in the face of the blazing rifles. + +"Fire low! stand firm! drive them back once again, my brave Virginians!" +shouted a young Southern officer, springing to the foremost rank. + +The mutual fire was delivered almost at the rifles' muzzles, and the +long sword-bayonets clashed together. Without yielding ground, for a few +terrible seconds they thrust and parried with the clanging steel, while +on either side the dead were stiffening beneath their feet, and the +wounded, with shrieks of agony, were clutching at their limbs. Harold +and the young Southron met; their swords clashed together once in the +smoke and dust, and but once, when each drew back and lowered his +weapon, while all around were striking. Then, amid that terrible +discord, their two left hands were pressed together for an instant, and +a low "God bless you!" came from the lips of both. + +"To the right, Beverly, keep you to the right!" said Harold, and he +himself, straight through the hostile ranks, sprang in an opposite +direction. + +When Harold's party had first charged up the hill, the young lieutenant +with whom he had conversed beside the watch-fire on the previous +evening, was at the head of his platoon, and as the two bodies met, he +sent the last shot from his revolver full in the faces of the foremost +rank. So close were they, that the victim of that shot, struck in the +centre of the forehead, tottered forward, and fell into his arms. There +was a cry of horror that pierced even above the shrieks of the wounded +and the yells of the fierce combatants. One glance at that fair, +youthful face sufficed;--it was his brother--dead in his arms, dead by a +brother's hand. The yellow hair yet curled above the temples, but the +rosy bloom upon the cheek was gone; already the ashen hue of death was +there. There was a small round hole just where the golden locks waved +from the edge of the brow, and from it there slowly welled a single +globule of black gore. It left the face undisfigured--pale, but tranquil +and undistorted as a sleeping child's--not even a clot of blood was +there to mar its beauty. The strong and manly soldier knelt upon the +dust, and holding the dead boy with both arms clasped about his waist, +bent his head low down upon the lifeless bosom, and gasped with an agony +more terrible than that which the death-wound gives. + +"Charley! Oh God! Charley! Charley!" was all that came from his white +lips, and he sat there like stone, with the corpse in his arms, still +murmuring "Charley!" unconscious that blades were flashing and bullets +whistling around him. The blood streamed from his wounds, the bayonets +were gleaming round, and once a random shot ploughed into his thigh and +shivered the bone. He only bent a little lower and his voice was +fainter; but still he murmured "Charley! Oh God! Charley," and never +unfolded his arms from its embrace. And there, when the battle was over, +the Southrons found him, dead--with his dead brother in his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +At the door-way of the building on the hill, where the aged invalid was +yielding her last breath amid the roar of battle, a wounded officer sat +among the dying and the dead, while the conflict swept a little away +from that quarter of the field. The blood was streaming from the +shattered bosom, and feebly he strove to staunch it with his silken +scarf. He had dragged himself through gore and dust until he reached +that spot, and now, rising again with a convulsive effort, he leaned his +red hands against the wall, and entered over the fragments of the door, +which had been shivered by a shell. With tottering steps he passed along +the hall and up the little stairway, as one who had been familiar with +the place. Before the door of the aged lady's chamber he paused a moment +and listened; all was still there, although the terrible tumult of the +battle was sounding all around. He entered; he advanced to the +bed-side; the dying woman was murmuring a prayer. A random shot had torn +the shrivelled flesh upon her bosom and the white counterpane was +stained with blood. She did not see him--her thoughts were away from +earth, she was already seeking communion with the spirits of the blest. +The soldier knelt by that strange death-bed and leaned his pale brow +upon the pillow. + +"Mother!" + +How strangely the word sounded amid the shouts of combatants and the din +of war. It was like a good angel's voice drowning the discords of hell. + +"Mother!" + +She heard not the cannon's roar, but that one word, scarce louder than +the murmur of a dreaming infant, reached her ear. The palsied head was +turned upon the pillow and the light of life returned to her glazing +eyes. + +"Who speaks?" she gasped, while her thin hands were tremulously clasped +together with emotion. + +"'Tis I, mother. Philip, your son." + +"Philip, my son!" and the nerveless form, that had scarce moved for +years, was raised upon the bed by the last yearning effort of a mother's +love. + +"Is it you, Philip, is it you, indeed? I can scarce see your form, but +surely I have heard the voice of my boy;--my long absent boy. Oh! +Philip! why have I not heard it oftener to comfort my old age?" + +"I am dying, mother. I have been a bad son and a guilty man. But I am +dying, mother. Oh! I am punished for my sin! The avenging bullet struck +me down at the gate of the home I had deserted--the home I have made +desolate to you. Mother, I have crawled here to die." + +"To die! O God! your hand is cold--or is it but the chill of death upon +my own? Oh! I had thought to have said farewell to earth forever, but +yet let me linger but a little while, O Lord! if but to bless my son." +She sank exhausted upon the pillow, but yet clasped the gory fingers of +the dying man. + +"Philip, are you there? Let me hear your voice. I hear strange murmurs +afar off; but not the voice of my son. Are you there, Philip, are you +there?" + +Philip Searle was crouching lower and lower by the bed-side, and his +forehead, upon which the dews of death were starting, lay languidly +beside the thin, white locks that rested on the pillow. + +"Look, mother!" he said, raising his head and glaring into the corner of +the room. "Do you see that form in white?--there--she with the pale +cheeks and golden hair! I saw her once before to-day, when she lay +stretched upon the bed, with a lily in her white fingers. And once again +I saw her in that last desperate charge, when the bullet struck my side. +And now she is there again, pale, motionless, but smiling. Does she +smile in mockery or forgiveness? I could rather bear a frown than that +terrible--that frozen smile. O God! she is coming to me, mother, she is +coming to me--she will lay her cold hand upon me. No--it is not she! it +is Moll--look, mother, it is Moll, all blackened with smoke and seared +with living fire. O God! how terrible! But, mother, I did not do that. +When I saw the flames afar off, I shuddered, for I knew how it must be. +But I did not do it, Moll, by my lost soul, I did not!" He started to +his feet with a convulsive effort. The hot blood spurted from his wound +with the exertion and spattered upon the face and breast of his +mother--but she felt it not, for she was dead. The last glimmering ray +of reason seemed to drive away the phantoms. He turned toward those +sharp and withered features, he saw the fallen jaw and lustreless glazed +eye. A shudder shook his frame at every point, and with a groan of pain +and terror, he fell forward upon the corpse--a corpse himself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +The Federal troops, with successive charges, had now pushed the enemy +from their first position, and the torn battalions were still being +hurled against the batteries that swept their ranks. The excellent +generalship of the Confederate leaders availed itself of the valor and +impetuosity of their assailants to lure them, by consecutive advance and +backward movement, into the deadly range of their well planted guns. It +was then that, far to the right, a heavy column could be seen moving +rapidly in the rear of the contending hosts. Was it a part of Hunter's +division that had turned the enemy's rear? Such was the thought at +first, and with the delusion triumphant cheers rang from the parched +throats of the weary Federals. They were soon to be undeceived. The +stars and bars flaunted amid those advancing ranks, and the constant +yells of the Confederates proclaimed the truth. Johnston was pouring his +fresh troops upon the battle-field. The field was lost, but still was +struggled for in the face of hope. It was now late in the afternoon, and +the soldiers, exhausted with their desperate exertions, fought on, +doggedly, but without that fiery spirit which earlier in the day had +urged them to the cannon's mouth. There was a lull in the storm of +carnage, the brief pause that precedes the last terrific fury of the +tempest. The Confederates were concentrating their energies for a +decisive effort. It came. From the woods that skirted the left centre of +their position, a squadron of horsemen came thundering down upon our +columns. Right down upon Carlisle's battery they rode, slashing the +cannoneers and capturing the guns. Then followed their rushing ranks of +infantry, and full upon our flank swooped down another troop of cavalry, +dashing into the road where the baggage-train had been incautiously +advanced. Our tired and broken regiments were scattered to the right and +left. In vain a few devoted officers spurred among them, and called on +them to rally; they broke from the ranks in every quarter of the field, +and rushed madly up the hillsides and into the shelter of the trees. +The magnificent army that had hailed the rising sun with hopes of +victory was soon pouring along the road in inextricable confusion and +disorderly retreat. Foot soldier and horseman, field-piece and wagon, +caisson and ambulance, teamster and cannoneer, all were mingled together +and rushing backward from the field they had half won, with their backs +to the pursuing foe. That rout has been traced, to our shame, in +history; the pen of the novelist shuns the disgraceful theme. + +Harold, although faint with loss of blood, which oozed from a +flesh-wound in his shoulder, was among the gallant few who strove to +stem the ebbing current; struck at last by a spent ball in the temple, +he fell senseless to the ground. He would have been trampled upon and +crushed by the retreating column, had not a friendly hand dragged him +from the road to a little mound over which spread the branches of an +oak. Here he was found an hour afterward by a body of Confederate troops +and lifted into an ambulance with others wounded and bleeding like +himself. + +While the vehicle, with its melancholy freight, was being slowly +trailed over the scene of the late battle, Harold partially recovered +his benumbed senses. He lay there as in a dream, striving to recall +himself to consciousness of his position. He felt the dull throbbing +pain upon his brow and the stinging sensation in his shoulder, and knew +that he was wounded, but whether dangerously or not he could not judge. +He could feel the trickling of blood from the bosom of a wounded comrade +at his side, and could hear the groans of another whose thigh was +shattered by the fragment of a shell; but the situation brought no +feeling of repugnance, for he was yet half stunned and lay as in a +lethargy, wishing only to drain one draught of water and then to sleep. +The monotonous rumbling of the ambulance wheels sounded distinctly upon +his ear, and he could listen, with a kind of objectless curiosity, to +the casual conversation of the driver, as he exchanged words here and +there with others, who were returning upon the same dismal errand from +the scene of carnage. The shadows of night spread around him, covering +the field of battle like a pall flung in charity by nature over the +corpses of the slain. Then his bewildered fancies darkened with the +surrounding gloom, and he thought that he was coffined and in a hearse, +being dragged to the graveyard to be buried. He put forth his hand to +push the coffin lid, but it fell again with weakness, and when his +fingers came in contact with the splintered bone that protruded from his +neighbor's thigh, and he felt the warm gushing of the blood that welled +with each throb of the hastily bound artery, he puzzled his dreamy +thoughts to know what it might mean. At last all became a blank upon his +brain, and he relapsed once more into unconsciousness. + +And so, from dreamy wakefulness to total oblivion he passed to and fro, +without an interval to part the real from the unreal. He was conscious +of being lifted into the arms of men, and being borne along carefully by +strong arms. Whither? It seemed to his dull senses that they were +bearing him into a sepulchre, but he was not terrified, but careless and +resigned; or if he thought of it at all, it was to rejoice that when +laid there, he should be undisturbed. Presently a vague fancy passed +athwart his mind, that perhaps the crawling worms would annoy him, and +he felt uneasy, but yet not afraid. Afterward, there was a sensation of +quiet and relief, and his brain, for a space, was in repose. Then a +bright form bent over him, and he thought it was an angel. He could feel +a soft hand brushing the dampness from his brow, and fingers, whose +light touch soothed him, parting his clotted hair. The features grew +more distinct, and it pleased him to look upon them, although he strove +in vain to fix them in his memory, until a tear-drop fell upon his +cheek, and recalled his wandering senses; then he knew that Oriana was +bending over him and weeping. + +He was in the cottage where Beverly had last parted from his sister; not +in the same room, for they feared to place him there, where Miranda was +lying in a shroud, with a coffin by her bed-side, lest the sad spectacle +should disturb him when he woke. But he lay upon a comfortable bed in +another room, and Beverly and Oriana stood beside, while the surgeon +dressed his wounds. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +No need to say that Harold was well cared for by his two friendly foes. +Beverly had given his personal parole for his safe keeping, and he was +therefore free from all surveillance or annoyance on that score. His +wounds were not serious, although the contusion on the temple, which, +however, had left the skull uninjured, occasioned some uneasiness at +first. But the third day he was able to leave his bed, and with his arm +in a sling, sat comfortably in an easy-chair, and conversed freely with +his two excellent nurses. + +"Did Beverly tell you of Arthur's imprisonment?" he asked of Oriana, +breaking a pause in the general conversation. + +"Yes," she answered, looking down, with a scarcely perceptible blush +upon her cheek. "Poor Arthur! Yours is a cruel government, Harold, that +would make traitors of such men. His noble heart would not harbor a +dangerous thought, much less a traitorous design." + +"I think with you," said Harold. "There is some strange mistake, which +we must fathom. I received his letter only the day preceding the battle. +Had there been no immediate prospect of an engagement, I would have +asked a furlough, and have answered it in person. I have small reason to +regret my own imprisonment," he added, "my jailers are so kind; yet I do +regret it for his sake." + +"You know that we are powerless to help him," said Beverly, "or even to +shorten your captivity, since your government will not exchange with us. +However, you must write, both to Arthur and to Mr. Lincoln, and I will +use my best interest with the general to have your letters sent on with +a flag." + +"I know that you will do all in your power, and I trust that my +representations may avail with the government, for I judge from Arthur's +letter that he is not well, although he makes no complaint. He is but +delicate at the best, and what with the effects of his late injuries, I +fear that the restraint of a prison may go ill with him." + +"How unnatural is this strife that makes us sorrow for our foes no less +than for our friends?" said Oriana. "I seem to be living in a strange +clime, and in an age that has passed away. And how long can friendship +endure this fiery ordeal? How many scenes of carnage like this last +terrible one can afflict the land, without wiping away all trace of +brotherhood, and leaving in the void the seed of deadly hate?" + +"If this repulse," said Beverly, "which your arms have suffered so early +in the contest, will awaken the North to a sense of the utter futility +of their design of subjugation, the blood that flowed at Manassas will +not have been shed in vain." + +"No, not in vain," replied Harold, "but its fruits will be other than +you anticipate. The North will be awakened, but only to gird up its +loins and put forth its giant strength. The shame of that one defeat +will be worth to us hereafter a hundred victories. The North has +been smitten in its sleep; it will arouse from its lethargy like a lion +awakening under the smart of the hunter's spear. Beverly, base no vain +hopes upon the triumph of the hour; it seals your doom, for it serves +but to throw into the scale against you the aroused energies that till +now have been withheld." + +"You count upon your resources, Harold, like a purse-proud millionaire, +who boasts his bursting coffers. We depend rather upon our determined +hearts and resolute right hands. Upon our power to endure, greater than +yours to inflict, reverse. Upon our united people, and the spirit that +animates them, which can never be subdued. The naked Britons could +defend their native soil against Caesar's legions, the veterans of a +hundred fights. Shall we do less, who have already tasted the fruits of +liberty so dearly earned? Harold, your people have assumed an impossible +task, and you may as well go cast your treasures into the sea as +squander them in arms to smite your kith and kin. We are Americans, like +yourselves; and when you confess that _you_ can be conquered by invading +armies, then dream of conquering us." + +"And we will startle you from your dream with the crack of our Southern +rifles," added Oriana, somewhat maliciously, while Harold smiled at her +enthusiasm. + +"There is a great deal of romance in both your natures," he replied. +"But it is not so good as powder for a fighting medium. The spirit you +boast of will not support you long without the aid of good round +dollars." + +"Thank heaven we have less faith in their efficacy than you Northern +gold-worshippers," observed Oriana, with playful sarcasm. "While our +soldiers have good round corn-cakes, they will ask for no richer metals +than lead and steel. Have you never heard of the regiment of +Mississippians, who, having received their pay in government +certificates, to a man tore up the documents as they took up the line of +march, saying 'we do not fight for money?'" + +Harold smiled, thinking perhaps that nothing better could have been done +with the currency in question. + +"I think," said Beverly, "you are far out of the way in your estimate of +our resources. The South is strictly an agricultural country, and as +such, best able to support itself under the exhaustion consequent upon a +lengthened warfare, especially as it will remain in the attitude of +resistance to invasion. From the bosom of its prolific soil it can draw +its natural nourishment and retain its vigor throughout any period of +isolation, while you are draining your resources for the means of +providing an active aggressive warfare. The rallying of our white +population to the battle field will not interrupt the course of +agricultural pursuit, while every enlistment in the North will take one +man away from the tillage of the land or from some industrial +avocation." + +"Not so," replied Harold. "Our armies for the most part will be +recruited from the surplus population, and abundant hands will remain +behind for the purposes of industry." + +"At first, perhaps. But not after a few more such fields as were fought +on Sunday last. To carry out even a show of your project of subjugation, +you must keep a million of men in the field from year to year. Your +manufacturing interests will be paralyzed, your best customers shut out. +You will be spending enormously and producing little beyond the +necessities of consumption. We, on the contrary, will be producing as +usual, and spending little more than before." + +"Can your armies be fed, clothed, and equipped without expense?" + +"No. But all our means will be applied to military uses, and our +operations will be necessarily much less expensive than yours. In other +matters, we will forget our habits of extravagance. We will become, by +the law of necessity, economists in place of spendthrifts. We will +gather in rich harvests, but will stint ourselves to the bare +necessities of life, that our troops may be fed and clothed. The money +that our wealthy planters have been in the habit of spending yearly in +Northern cities and watering places, will be circulated at home. Some +fifty millions of Southern dollars, heretofore annually wasted in +fashionable dissipation, will thus be kept in our own pockets and out of +yours. The spendthrift sons of our planters, and their yet more +extravagant daughters, will be found studying economy in the rude school +of the soldier, and plying the needle to supply the soldiers' wants, in +place of drawing upon the paternal estates for frivolous enjoyments. Our +spending population will be on the battle-field, and the laborer will +remain in the cotton and corn-field. There will be suffering and +privation, it is true, but rest assured, Harold, we will bear it all +without a murmur, as our fathers did in the days of '76. And we will +trust to the good old soil we are defending to give us our daily bread." + +"Or if it should not," said Oriana, "we can at least claim from it, each +one, a grave, over which the foot of the invader may trample, but not +over our living bodies." + +"I have no power to convince you of your error," answered Harold. "Let +us speak of it no more, since it is destined that the sword must decide +between us. Beverly, you promised that I should go visit my wounded +comrades, who have not yet been removed. Shall we go now? I think it +would do me good to breathe the air." + +They prepared for the charitable errand, and Oriana went with them, with +a little basket of delicacies for the suffering prisoners. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +It was a fair morning in August, the twentieth day after the eventful +21st of July. Beverly was busy with his military duties, and Harold, who +had already fully recovered from his wounds, was enjoying, in company +with Oriana, a pleasant canter over the neighboring country. They came +to where the rolling meadow subsided into a level plain of considerable +extent on either side of the road. At its verge a thick forest formed a +dark background, beyond which the peering summits of green hills showed +that the landscape was rugged and uneven. Oriana slackened her pace, and +pointed out over the broad expanse of level country. + +"You see this plain that stretches to our right and left?" + +"Of course I do," replied Harold. + +"Yes; but I want you to mark it well," she continued, with a significant +glance; "and also that stretch of woodland yonder, beyond which, you +see, the country rises again." + +"Yes, a wild country, I should judge, like that to the left, where we +fought your batteries a month ago." + +"It is, indeed, a wild country as you say. There are ravines there, and +deep glens, fringed with almost impenetrable shrubbery, and deep down in +these recesses flows many a winding water-course, lined and overarched +with twisted foliage. Are you skillful at threading a woodland +labyrinth?" + +"Yes; my surveying expeditions have schooled me pretty well. Why do you +ask? Do you want me to guide you through the wilderness, in search of a +hermit's cave." + +"Perhaps; women have all manner of caprices, you know. But I want you to +pay attention to those landmarks. Over yonder, there are some nooks that +would do well to hide a runaway. I have explored some of them myself, +for I passed some months here formerly, before the war. Poor Miranda's +family resided once in the little cottage where we are stopping now. +That is why I came from Richmond to spend a few days and be with +Beverly. I little thought that my coming would bring me to Miranda's +death-bed. Look there, now: you have a better view of where the forest +ascends into the hilly ground." + +"Why are you so topographical to-day? One would think you were tempting +me to run away," said Harold, smiling, as he followed her pointing +finger with his eyes. + +"No; I know you would not do that, because Beverly, you know, has +pledged himself for your safe-keeping." + +"Very true; and I am therefore a closer prisoner than if I were loaded +down with chains. When do you return to Richmond?" + +"I shall return on the day after to-morrow. Beverly has been charged +with an important service, and will be absent for several weeks. But he +can procure your parole, if you wish, and you can come to the old +manor-house again." + +"I think I shall not accept parole," replied Harold, thoughtfully. "I +must escape, if possible, for Arthur's sake. Beverly, of course, will +release himself from all obligations about me, before he goes?" + +"Yes, to-morrow; but you will be strictly guarded, unless you give +parole. See here, I have a little present for you; it is not very +pretty, but it is useful." + +She handed him a small pocket-compass, set in a brass case. + +"You can have this too," she added, drawing a small but strong and sharp +poignard from her bosom. "But you must promise me never to use it except +to save your life?" + +"I will promise that cheerfully," said Harold, as he received the +precious gifts. + +"To-morrow we will ride out again. We will have the same horses that +bear us so bravely now. Do you note how strong and well-bred is the +noble animal you ride?" + +"Yes," said Harold, patting the glorious arch of his steed's neck. "He's +a fine fellow, and fleet, I warrant." + +"Fleet as the winds. There are few in this neighborhood that can match +him. Let us go home now. You need not tell Beverly that I have given you +presents. And be ready to ride to-morrow at four o'clock precisely." + +He understood her thoroughly, and they cantered homeward, conversing +upon indifferent subjects and reverting no further to their previous +somewhat enigmatical theme. + +On the following afternoon, at four o'clock precisely, the horses were +at the door, and five minutes afterward a mounted officer, followed by +two troopers, galloped up the lane and drew rein at the gateway. + +Harold was arranging the girths of Oriana's saddle, and she herself was +standing in her riding-habit beside the porch. The officer, dismounting, +approached her and raised his cap in respectful salute. He was young and +well-looking, evidently one accustomed to polite society. + +"Good afternoon, Captain Haralson," said Oriana, with her most gracious +smile. "I am very glad to see you, although, as you bring your military +escort, I presume you come to see Beverly upon business, and not for the +friendly visit you promised me. But Beverly is not here." + +"I left him at the camp on duty, Miss Weems," replied the captain. "It +is my misfortune that my own duties have been too strict of late to +permit me the pleasure of my contemplated visit." + +"I must bide my time, captain. Let me introduce my friend. Captain Hare, +our prisoner, Mr. Haralson; but I know you will help me to make him +forget it, when I tell you that he was my brother's schoolmate and is +our old and valued friend." + +The young officer took Harold frankly by the hand, but he looked grave +and somewhat disconcerted as he answered: + +"Captain Hare, as a soldier, will forgive me that my duty compels me to +play a most ungracious part upon our first acquaintance. I have orders +to return with him to headquarters, where I trust his acceptance of +parole will enable me to avail myself of your introduction to show him +what courtesy our camp life admits, in atonement for the execution of my +present unpleasant devoir." + +"I shall esteem your acquaintance the more highly," answered Harold, +"that you know so well to blend your soldiership with kindness. I am +entirely at your disposition, sir, having only to apologize to Miss +Weems for the deprivation of her contemplated ride." + +"Oh, no, we must not lose our ride," said Oriana. "It is perhaps the +last we shall enjoy together, and such a lovely afternoon. I am sure +that Captain Haralson is too gallant to interrupt our excursion." + +She turned to him with an arch smile, but he looked serious as he +replied: + +"Alas! Miss Weems, our gallantry receives some rude rebuffs in the harsh +school of the soldier. It grieves me to mar your harmless recreation, +but even that mortification I must endure when it comes in the strict +line of my duty." + +"But your duty does not forbid you to take a canter with us this +charming afternoon. Now put away that military sternness, which does not +become you at all, and help me to mount my pretty Nelly, who is getting +impatient to be off. And so am I. Come, you will get into camp in due +season, for we will go only as far as the Run, and canter all the way." + +She took his arm, and he assisted her to the saddle, won into +acquiescence by her graceful obstinacy, and, in fact, seeing but little +harm the tufted hills rolled into one another like the waves of a +swelling sea, their crests tipped with the slant rays of the descending +sun, and their graceful slopes alternating among purple shadows and +gleams of floating light. + +"It is indeed so beautiful," answered Harold, "that I should deem you +might be content to live there as of old, without inviting the terrible +companionship of Mars." + +"We do not invite it," said the young captain. "Leave us in peaceful +possession of our own, and no war cries shall echo among those hills. If +Mars has driven his chariot into our homes, he comes at your bidding, an +unwelcome intruder, to be scourged back again." + +"At our bidding! No. The first gun that was fired at Sumter summoned +him, and if he should leave his foot-prints deep in your soil, you have +well earned the penalty." + +"It will cost you, to inflict it, many such another day's work as that +at Manassas a month ago." + +The taunt was spoken hastily, and the young Southron colored as if +ashamed of his discourtesy, and added: + +"Forgive me my ungracious speech. It was my first field, sir, and I am +wont to speak of it too boastingly. I shall become more modest, I hope, +when I shall have a better right to be a boaster." + +"Oh," replied Harold, "I admit the shame of our discomfiture, and take +it as a good lesson to our negligence and want of purpose. But all that +has passed away. One good whipping has awakened us to an understanding +of the work we have in hand. Henceforth we will apply ourselves to the +task in earnest." + +"You think, then, that your government will prosecute the war more +vigorously than before?" + +"Undoubtedly. You have heard but the prelude of a gale that shall sweep +every vestige of treason from the land." + +"Let it blow on," said the Southron, proudly. "There will be +counter-blasts to meet it. You cannot raise a tempest that will make us +bow our heads." + +"Do you not think," interrupted Oriana, "that a large proportion of your +Northern population are ready at least to listen to terms of +separation?" + +"No," replied Harold, firmly. "Or if there be any who entertain such +thoughts, we will make them outcasts among us, and the finger of scorn +will be pointed at them as recreant to their holiest duty." + +"That is hardly fair," said Oriana. "Why should you scorn or maltreat +those who honestly believe that the doctrine in support of which so many +are ready to stake their lives and their fortunes, may be worthy of +consideration? Do you believe us all mad and wicked people in the +South--people without hearts, and without brains, incapable of forming +an opinion that is worth an argument? If there are some among you who +think we are acting for the best, and Heaven knows we are acting with +sincerity, you should give them at least a hearing, for the sake of +liberty of conscience. Remember, there are millions of us united in +sentiment in the South, and millions, perhaps, abroad who think with us. +How can you decide by your mere impulses where the right lies?" + +"We decide by the promptings of our loyal hearts, and by our reason, +which tells us that secession is treason, and that treason must be +crushed." + +"Heart and brain have been mistaken ere now," returned Oriana. "But if +you are a type of your countrymen, I see that hard blows alone will +teach you that God has given us the right to think for ourselves." + +"Do you believe, then," asked Haralson, "that there can be no peace +between us until one side or the other shall be exhausted and subdued?" + +"Not so," replied Harold. "I think that when we have retrieved the +disgrace of Bull Run and given you in addition, some wholesome +chastisement, your better judgment will return to you, and you will +accept forgiveness at our hands and return to your allegiance." + +"You are mistaken," said the Southron. "Even were we ready to accept +your terms, you would not be ready to grant them. Should the North +succeed in striking some heavy blow at the South, I will tell you what +will happen; your abolitionists will seize the occasion of the peoples' +exultation to push their doctrine to a consummation. Whenever you shall +hear the tocsin of victory sounding in the North, then listen for the +echoing cry of emancipation--for you will hear it. You will see it in +every column of your daily prints; you will hear your statesmen urging +it in your legislative halls, and your cabinet ministers making it their +theme. And, most dangerous of all, you will hear your generals and +colonels, demagogues, at heart, and soldiers only of occasion, preaching +it to their battalions, and making converts of their subordinates by the +mere influences of their rank and calling. And when your military +chieftains harangue their soldiers upon political themes, think not of +our treason as you call it, but look well to the political freedom that +is still your own. With five hundred thousand armed puppets, moving at +the will of a clique of ambitious epauletted politicians and +experimentalists, you may live to witness, whether we be subdued or not, +a _coup d'etat_ for which there is a precedent not far back in the +annals of republics." + +"Have you already learned to contemplate the danger that you are +incurring? Do you at last fear the monster that you have nursed and +strengthened in your midst? Well, if your slaves should rise against +you, surely you cannot blame us for the evil of your own creation." + +"It is the hope of your abolitionists, not our fear, that I am +rehearsing. Should your armies obtain a foothold on our soil, we know +that you will put knives and guns into the hands of our slaves, and +incite them to emulate the deeds of their race in San Domingo. You will +parcel out our lands and wealth to your victorious soldiery, not so much +as a reward for their past services, but to seal the bond between them +and the government that will seek to rule by their bayonets. You see, we +know the peril and are prepared to meet it. Should you conquer us, at +the same time you would conquer the liberties of the Northern citizen. +You will be at the mercy of the successful general whose triumph may +make him the idol of the armed millions that alone can accomplish our +subjugation. In the South, butchery and rapine by hordes of desperate +negroes--in the North anarchy and political intrigue, to be merged into +dictatorship and the absolutism of military power. Such would be the +results of your triumph and our defeat." + +"Those are the visions of a heated brain," said Harold. "I must confess +that your fighting is better than your logic. There is no danger to our +country that the loyalty of its people cannot overcome--as it will your +rebellion." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +They had now approached the edge of the plain which Oriana had pointed +out on the preceding day. The sun, which had been tinging the western +sky with gorgeous hues, was peering from among masses of purple and +golden clouds, within an hour's space of the horizon. Captain Haralson, +interested and excited by his disputation, had been riding leisurely +along by the side of his prisoner, taking but little note of the route +or of the lapse of time. + +"Cease your unprofitable argument," cried Oriana, "and let us have a +race over this beautiful plain. Look! 'tis as smooth as a race-course, +and I will lay you a wager, Captain Haralson, that my Nelly will lead +you to yonder clump, by a neck." + +She touched her horse lightly with the whip, and turned from the road +into the meadows. + +"It is late, Miss Weems," said the Southron, "and I must report at +headquarters before sundown. Besides, I am badly mounted, and it would +be but a sorry victory to distance me. I pray you, let us return." + +"Nonsense! Nelly is not breathed. I must have one fair run over this +field; and, gentlemen, I challenge you both to outstrip Nelly if you +can." + +With a merry shout, she struck the fleet mare smartly on the flank, and +the spirited animal, more at the sound of her voice than aroused by the +whip-lash, stretched forward her neck and sprang over the tufted level. +Harold waved his hand, as if in invitation, to his companion, and was +soon urging his powerful horse in the same direction. Haralson shouted +to them to stop, but they only turned their heads and beckoned to him +gaily, and plunging the spurs into the strong but heavy-hoofed charger +that he rode, he followed them as best he could. He kept close in their +rear very well at first, but he soon observed that he was losing +distance, and that the two swift steeds in front, that had been held in +check a little at the start, were now skimming the smooth meadow at a +tremendous pace. + +"Halt!" he cried, at the top of his lungs; but either they heard it not +or heeded it not, for they still swept on, bending low forward in the +saddle, almost side by side. + +A vague suspicion crossed his mind. + +"Halt, there!" + +Oriana glanced over her shoulder, and could see a sunray gleaming from +something that he held in his right hand. He had drawn a pistol from his +holster. She slackened her pace a little, and allowing Harold to take +the lead, rode on in the line between him and the pursuer. Harold turned +in his saddle. She could hear the tones of his voice rushing past her on +the wind. + +"Come no further with me, lest suspicion attach to yourself. The good +horse will bear me beyond pursuit. Remember, it is for Arthur's sake I +have consented you should make this sacrifice. God bless you! and +farewell!" + +A pistol-shot resounded in the air. Oriana knew it was fired but to +intimidate--the distance was too great to give the leaden messenger a +deadlier errand. Yet she drew rein, and waited, breathless with +excitement and swift motion, till Haralson came up. He turned one +reproachful glance upon her as he passed, and spurred on in pursuit. +Harold turned once again, to assure himself that she was unhurt, then +waved his hand, and urging his swift steed to the utmost, sped on toward +the forest which was now close at hand. The two troopers soon came +galloping up to where Oriana still sat motionless upon her saddle, +watching the race with strained eyes and heaving bosom. + +"Your prisoner has escaped," she said; "spur on in pursuit." + +She knew that it was of no avail, for Harold had already disappeared +among the mazes of the wood, and the sun was just dipping below the +horizon. Darkness would soon shroud the fugitive in its friendly mantle. +She turned Nelly's head homeward, and cantered silently away in the +gathering twilight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + +When Captain Haralson and the two troopers reached the verge of the +forest, they could trace for a short distance the hoof-prints of +Harold's horse, and followed them eagerly among the labyrinthine paths +which the fugitive had made through the tangled shrubbery and among the +briery thickets. But soon the gloom of night closed in upon them in the +depth of the silent wood, and they were left without a sign by which to +direct the pursuit. It was near midnight when they reached the further +edge of the forest, and there, throwing fantastic gleams of red light +among the shadows of the tall trees, they caught sight of what seemed to +be the glimmer of a watchfire. Soon after, the growl of a hound was +heard, followed by a deep-mouthed bay, and approaching cautiously, they +were hailed by the watchful sentinel. It was a Confederate picket, +posted on the outskirt of the forest, and Haralson, making himself +known, rode up to where the party, awakened by their approach, had +roused themselves from their blankets, and were standing with ready +rifles beside the blazing fagots. + +Haralson made known his errand to the officer in command, and the +sentries were questioned, but all declared that nothing had disturbed +their watch; if the fugitive had passed their line, he had succeeded in +eluding their vigilance. + +"I must send one of my men back to camp to report the escape," said +Haralson, "and will ask you to spare me a couple of your fellows to help +me hunt the Yankee down. Confound him, I deserve to lose my epaulettes +for my folly, but I'll follow him to the Potomac, rather than return to +headquarters without him." + +"Who was it?" asked the officer; "was he of rank?" + +"A captain, Captain Hare, well named for his fleetness; but he was +mounted superbly, and I suspect the whole thing was cut and dried." + +"Hare?" cried a hoarse voice; and the speaker, a tall, lank man, who had +been stretched by the fire, with the head of a large, gaunt bloodhound +in his lap, rose suddenly and stepped forward. + +"Harold Hare, by G--d!" he exclaimed; "I know the fellow. Captain, I'm +with you on this hunt, and Bully there, too, who is worth the pair of +us. Hey, Bully?" + +The dog stretched himself lazily, and lifted his heavy lip with a grin +above the formidable fangs that glistened in the gleam of the watchfire. + +"You may go," said his officer, "but I can't spare another. You three, +with the dog, will be enough. Rawbon's as good a man as you can get, +captain. Set a thief to catch a thief, and a Yankee to outwit a Yankee. +You'd better start at once, unless you need rest or refreshment." + +"Nothing," replied Haralson. "Let your man put something into his +haversack. Good night, lieutenant. Come along, boys, and keep your eyes +peeled, for these Yankees are slippery eels, you know." + +Seth Rawbon had already bridled his horse that was grazing hard by, and +the party, with the hound close at his master's side, rode forth upon +their search. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +Harold had perceived the watchfire an hour earlier than his pursuers, +having obtained thus much the advantage of them by the fleetness of his +steed. He moved well off to the right, riding slowly and cautiously, +until another faint glimmer in that direction gave him to understand +that he was about equi-distant between two pickets of the enemy. He +dismounted at the edge of the forest, and securing his steed to the +branch of a tree, crept forward a few paces beyond the shelter of the +wood, and looked about earnestly in the darkness. Nothing could be seen +but the long, straggling line of the forest losing itself in the gloom, +and the black outlines, of the hills before him; but his quick ear +detected the sound of coming hoof and the ringing of steel scabbards. A +patrol was approaching, and fearful that his horse, conscious of the +neighborhood of his kind, might betray his presence with a sign of +recognition, he hurried back, and standing beside the animal, caressed +his glossy neck and won his attention with the low murmurs of his voice. +The good steed remained silent, only pricking up his ears and peering +through the branches as the patrol went clattering by. Harold waited +till the trampling of hoofs died away in the distance, and judging, from +their riding on without a challenge or a pause, that there was no sentry +within hail, he mounted and rode boldly out into the open country. The +stars were mostly obscured by heavy clouds, but here and there was a +patch of clear blue sky, and his eye, practised with many a surveying +night-tramp, discovered at last a twinkling guide by which to shape his +path in a northerly direction. It was a wild, rough country over which +he passed. With slow and careful steps, his sagacious steed moved on, +obedient to the rein, at one time topping the crest of a rugged hill, +and then winding at a snail's pace down the steep declivity, or +following the tortuous course of the streamlet through deep ravines, +whose jagged and bush-clad sides frowned down upon them on either side, +deepening the gloom of night. + +So all through the long hours of darkness, Harold toiled on his lonely +way, startled at times by the shriek of the night bird, and listening +intently to catch the sign of danger. At last the dawn, welcome although +it enhanced the chances of detection, blushed faintly through the +clouded eastern sky, and Harold, through the mists of morning, could see +a fair and rolling landscape stretched before him. The sky was overcast, +and presently the heavy drops began to fall. Consulting the little +friendly compass which Oriana had given him, he pushed on briskly, +turning always to the right or left, as the smoke, circling from some +early housewife's kitchen, betrayed the dangerous neighborhood of a +human habitation. + +Crossing a rivulet, he dismounted, and filled a small leathern bottle +that he carried with him, his good steed and himself meanwhile +satisfying their thirst from the cool wave. His appetite, freshened by +exercise, caused him to remember a package which Oriana's forethought +had provided for him on the preceding afternoon. He drew it from, his +pocket, and while his steed clipped the tender herbage from the +streamlet's bank, he made an excellent breakfast of the corn bread and +bacon, and other substantial edibles, which his kind friend had +bountifully supplied. Man and horse thus refreshed, he remounted, and +rode forward at a gallant pace, the strong animal he bestrode seeming as +yet to show no signs of fatigue. + +The rain was now falling in torrents, a propitious circumstance, since +it lessened the probabilities of his encountering the neighboring +inhabitants, most of whom must have sought shelter from the pelting +storm. He occasionally came up with a trudging negro, sometimes a group +of three or four, who answered timidly whenever he accosted them, and +glanced at him askance, but yet gave the information he requested. Once, +indeed, he could discern a troop of cavalry plashing along at same +distance through the muddy road, but he screened himself in a cornfield, +and was unobserved. His watch had been injured in the battle, and he had +no means, except conjecture, of judging of the hour; but by the flagging +pace of his horse, and his own fatigue, he knew that he must have been +many hours in the saddle. Surely the Potomac must be at hand! Yet there +was no sign of it, and over interminable hill and dale, through +corn-fields, and over patches of woodland and meadow, the weary steed +was urged on, slipping and sliding in the saturated soil. What was that +sound which caused his horse to prick up his ears and quicken his pace +with the instinct of danger? He heard it himself distinctly. It was the +baying of a bloodhound. + +"They are on my track!" muttered Harold; "and unless the river is at +hand, I am lost. Forward, sir! forward, good fellow!" he shouted +cheerily to his horse, and the noble animal, snorting and tossing his +silken mane, answered with an effort, and broke into a gallop. + +Down one hill into a little valley they pushed on, and up the ascent of +another. They reached the crest, and then, thank Heaven! there was the +broad river, winding through the valley. Dull and leaden hued as it +looked, reflecting the clouded sky, he had never hailed it so joyfully +when sparkling with sunbeams as he did at the close of that weary day. +Yet the danger was not past; up and down the stream he gazed, and far to +the right he could distinguish a group of tents peering from among the +foliage of a grove, and marking the site of a Confederate battery. But +just in front of him was a cheering sight; an armed schooner swung +lazily at anchor in the channel, and the wet bunting that drooped +listlessly over her stern, revealed the stars and stripes. + +The full tones of the bloodhound's voice aroused him to the necessity of +action; he turned in the saddle and glanced over the route he had come. +On the crest of the hill beyond that on which he stood, the forms of +three horsemen were outlined against the greyish sky. They distinguished +him at the same moment, for he could hear their shouts of exultation, +borne to him on the humid air. + +It was yet a full mile to the river bank, and his horse was almost +broken down with fatigue. Dashing his armed heels against the throbbing +flanks of the jaded animal, he rushed down the hill in a straight line +for the water. The sun was already below the horizon, and darkness was +coming on apace. As he pushed on, the shouts of his pursuers rang louder +upon his ear at every rod; it was evident that they were fresh mounted, +while his own steed was laboring, with a last effort, over the rugged +ground, stumbling among stones, and groaning at intervals with the +severity of exertion. He could hear the trampling behind him, he could +catch the words of triumph that seemed to be shouted almost in his very +ear. A bullet whizzed by him, and then another, and with each report +there came a derisive cheer. But it was now quite dark, and that, with +the rapid motion, rendered him comparatively fearless of being struck. +He spurred on, straining his eyes to see what was before him, for it +seemed that the ground in front became suddenly and curiously lost in +the mist and gloom. Just then, simultaneously with the report of a +pistol, he felt his good steed quiver beneath him; a bullet had reached +his flank, and the poor animal fell upon his knees and rolled over in +the agony of death. + +It was well that he had fallen; Harold, thrown forward a few feet, +touched the earth upon the edge of the rocky bank that descended +precipitously a hundred feet or more to the river--a few steps further, +and horse and rider would have plunged over the verge of the bluff. + +Harold, though bruised by his fall, was not considerably hurt; without +hesitation, he commenced the hazardous descent, difficult by day, but +perilous and uncertain in the darkness. Clinging to each projecting rock +and feeling cautiously for a foothold among the slippery ledges, he had +accomplished half the distance and could already hear the light plashing +of the wave upon the boulders below. He heard a voice above, shouting: +"Look out for the bluff there, we must be near it!" + +The warning came too late. There was a cry of terror--the blended voice +of man and horse, startling the night and causing Harold to crouch with +instinctive horror close to the dripping rock. There was a rush of wind +and the bounding by of a dark whirling body, which rolled over and over, +tearing over the sharp angles of the cliff, and scattering the loose +fragments of stone over him as he clung motionless to his support. Then +there was a dull thump below, and a little afterward a terrible moan, +and then all was still. + +Harold continued his descent and reached the base of the bluff in +safety. Through the darkness he could see a dark mass lying like a +shadow among the pointed stones, with the waves of the river rippling +about it. He approached it. There lay the steed gasping in the last +agony, and the rider beneath him, crushed, mangled and dead. He stooped +down by the side of the corpse; it was bent double beneath the quivering +body of the dying horse, in such a manner as must have snapped the spine +in twain. Harold lifted the head, but let it fall again with a shudder, +for his fingers had slipped into the crevice of the cleft skull and were +all smeared with the oozing brain. Yet, despite the obscurity and the +disfigurement, despite the bursting eyeballs and the clenched jaws +through which the blood was trickling, he recognized the features of +Seth Rawbon. + +No time for contemplation or for revery. There was a scrambling +overhead, with now and then a snarl and an angry growl. And further up, +he heard the sound of voices, labored and suppressed, as of men who were +speaking while toiling at some unwonted exercise. Harold threw off his +coat and boots, and waded out into the river. The dark hull of the +schooner could be seen looming above the gloomy surface of the water, +and he dashed toward it through the deepening wave. There was a splash +behind him and soon he could hear the puffing and short breathing of a +swimming dog. He was then up to his arm-pits in the water, and a few +yards further would bring him off his footing. He determined to wait the +onset there, while he could yet stand firm upon the shelving bottom. He +had not long to wait. The bloodhound made directly for him; he could see +his eyes snapping and glaring like red coals above the black water. +Harold braced himself as well as he could upon the yielding sand, and +held his poignard, Oriana's welcome gift, with a steady grasp. The dog +came so close that his fetid breath played upon Harold's cheek; then he +aimed a swift blow at his neck, but the brute dodged it like a fish. +Harold lost his balance and fell forward into the water, but in falling, +he launched out his left hand and caught the tough loose skin above the +animal's shoulder. He held it with the grasp of a drowning man, and over +and over they rolled in the water, like two sea monsters at their sport. +With all his strength, Harold drew the fierce brute toward him, +circling his neck tightly with his left arm, and pressed the sharp blade +against his throat. The hot blood gushed out over his hand, but he drove +the weapon deeper, slitting the sinewy flesh to the right and left, till +the dog ceased to struggle. Then Harold flung the huge carcass from him, +and struck out, breathless as he was, for the schooner. It was time, for +already his pursuers were upon the bank, aiming their pistol shots at +the black spot which they could just distinguish cleaving through the +water. But a few vigorous strokes carried him beyond their vision and +they ceased firing. Soon he heard the sound of muffled oars and a dark +shape seemed to rise from the water in front of him. The watch on board +the schooner, alarmed by the firing, had sent a boat's crew to +reconnoitre. Harold divined that it was so, and hailing the approaching +boat, was taken in, and ten minutes afterward, stood, exhausted but +safe, upon the schooner's deck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +With the earliest opportunity, Harold proceeded to Washington, and +sought an interview with the President, in relation to Arthur's case. +Mr. Lincoln received him kindly, but could give no information +respecting the arrest or alleged criminality of his friend. "There were +so many and pressing affairs of state that he could find no room for +individual cases in his memory." However, he referred him to the +Secretary of War, with a request that the latter would look into the +matter. By dint of persistent inquiries at various sources, Harold +finally ascertained that the prisoner had a few days previously been +released, upon the assurance of the surgeon at the fort, that his +failing health required his immediate removal. Inquiry had been made +into the circumstances leading to his arrest; made too late, however, to +benefit the victim of a State mistake, whose delicate health had already +been too severely tried by the discomforts attendant upon his +situation. However, enough had been ascertained to leave but little +doubt as to his innocence; and Arthur, with the ghastly signs of a rapid +consumption upon his wan cheek, was dismissed from the portals of a +prison, which had already prepared him for the tomb. + +Harold hastened to Vermont, whither he knew the invalid had been +conveyed. It was toward the close of the first autumn day that he +entered the little village, upon whose outskirts was situated the farm +of his dying friend. The air was mild and balmy, but the voices of +nature seemed to him more hushed than usual, as if in mournful unison +with his own sad reveries. He had passed on foot from the village to the +farm-house, and when he opened the little white wicket, and walked along +the gravelled avenue that led to the flower-clad porch, the willows on +either side seemed to droop lower than willows are used to droop, and +the soft September air sighed through the swinging boughs, like the +prelude of a dirge. + +Arthur was reclining upon an easy-chair upon the little porch, and +beside him sat a venerable lady, reading from the worn silver-clasped +Bible, which rested on her lap. The lady rose when he approached; and +Arthur, whose gaze had been wandering among the autumn clouds, that +wreathed the points of the far-off mountains, turned his head languidly, +when the footsteps broke his dream. + +He did not rise. Alas! he was too weak to do so without the support of +his aged mother's arm, which had so often cradled him in infancy and had +now become the staff of his broken manhood. But a beautiful and happy +smile illumined his pale lips, and spread all over the thin and wasted +features, like sunlight gleaming on the grey surface of a church-yard +stone. He lifted his attenuated hand, and when Harold clasped it, the +fingers were so cold and deathlike that their pressure seemed to close +about his heart, compressing it, and chilling the life current in his +veins. + +"I knew that you would come, Harold. Although I read that you were +missing at the close of that dreadful battle, something told me that we +should meet again. Whether it was a sick man's fancy, or the foresight +of a parting soul, it is realized, for you are here. And you come not +too soon, Harold," he added, with a pressure of the feeble hand, "for I +am going fast--fast from the discords of earth--fast to the calm and +harmony beyond." + +"Oh, Arthur, how changed you are!" said Harold, who could not keep from +fastening his gaze on the white, sunken cheek and hollow eyes of his +dying comrade. "But you will get better now, will you not--now that you +are home again, and we can nurse you?" + +Arthur shook his head with a mournful smile, and the fit of painful +coughing which overtook him answered his friend's vain hope. + +"No, Harold, no. All of earth is past to me, even hope. And I am ready, +cheerful even, to go, except for the sake of some loved ones that will +sorrow for me." + +He took his mother's hand as he spoke, and looked at her with touching +tenderness, while the poor dame brushed away her tears. + +"I have but a brief while to stay behind," she said, "and my sorrow will +be less, to know that you have ever been a good son to me. Oh, Mr. Hare, +he might have lived to comfort me, and close my old eyes in death, if +they had not been so cruel with him, and locked him within prison +walls. He, who never dreamed of wrong, and never injured willingly a +worm in his path." + +"Nay, mother, they were not unkind to me in the fort, and did what they +could to make me comfortable. But, Harold, it is wrong. I have thought +of it in the long, weary nights in prison, and I have thought of it when +I knew that death was beckoning me to come and rest from the thoughts of +earth. It is wrong to tamper with the sacred law that shields the +citizen. I believe that many a man within those fortress walls is as +innocent in the eyes of God as those who sent him there. Yet I accuse +none of willful wrong, but only of unconscious error. If the sacrifice +of my poor life could shed one ray upon the darkness, I would rejoice to +be the victim that I am, of a violated right. But all, statesmen, and +chieftains, and humble citizens, are being swept along upon the +whirlwinds of passion; all hearts are ablaze with the fiery magnificence +of war, and none will take warning till the land shall be desolate, and +thousands, stricken in their prime, shall be sleeping--where I shall +soon be--beneath the cold sod. I am weary, mother, and chill. Let us go +in." + +They bore him in and helped him to his bed, where he lay pale and +silent, seeming much worse from the fatigue of conversation and the +excitement of his meeting with his old college friend. Mrs. Wayne left +him in charge of Harold, while she went below to prepare what little +nourishment he could take, and to provide refreshment for her guest. + +Arthur lay, for a space, with his eyes closed, and apparently in sleep. +But he looked up, at last, and stretched out his hand to Harold, who +pressed the thin fingers, whiter than the coverlet on which they rested. + +"Is mother there?" + +"No, Arthur," replied Harold. "Shall I call her?" + +"No. I thought to have spoken to you, to-morrow, of something that has +been often my theme of thought; but I know not what strange feeling has +crept upon me; and perhaps, Harold--for we know not what the morrow may +bring--perhaps I had better speak now." + +"It hurts you, Arthur; you are too weak. Indeed, you must sleep now, and +to-morrow we shall talk." + +"No; now, Harold. It will not hurt me, or if it does, it matters little +now. Harold, I would fain that no shadow of unkindness should linger +between us twain when I am gone." + +"Why should there, Arthur? You have been my true friend always, and as +such shall I remember you." + +"Yet have I wronged you; yet have I caused you much grief and +bitterness, and only your own generous nature preserved us from +estrangement. Harold, have you heard from _her_?" + +"I have seen her, Arthur. During my captivity, she was my jailer; in my +sickness, for I was slightly wounded, she was my nurse. I will tell you +all about it to-morrow." + +"Yes, to-morrow," replied Arthur, breathing heavily. "To-morrow! the +word sounds meaningless to me, like something whose significance has +left me. Is she well, Harold?" + +"Yes." + +"And happy?" + +"I think so, Arthur. As happy as any of us can be, amid severed ties and +dread uncertainties." + +"I am glad that she is well. Harold, you will tell her, for I am sure +you will meet again, you will tell her it was my dying wish that you two +should be united. Will you promise, Harold?" + +"I will tell her all that you wish, Arthur." + +"I seem to feel that I shall be happy in my grave, to know that, she +will be your wife; to know that my guilty love--for I loved her, Harold, +and it _was_ guilt to love--to know that it left no poison behind, that +its shadow has passed away from the path that you must tread." + +"Speak not of guilt, my friend. There could live no crime between two +such noble hearts. And had I thought you would have accepted the +sacrifice, I could almost have been happy to have given her to you, so +much was her happiness the aim of my own love." + +"Yes, for you have a glorious heart, Harold; and I thank Heaven that she +cannot fail to love you. And you do not think, do you, Harold, that it +would be wrong for you two to speak of me when I am gone? I cannot bear +to think that you should deem it necessary to drive me from your +memories, as one who had stepped in between your hearts. I am sure she +will love you none the less for her remembrance of me, and therefore +sometimes you will talk together of me, will you not?" + +"Yes, we will often talk of you, for what dearer theme to both could we +choose; what purer recollections could our memories cherish than of the +friend we both loved so much, and who so well deserved our love?" + +"And I am forgiven, Harold?" + +"Were there aught to be forgiven, I would forgive; but I have never +harbored in my most secret heart one trace of anger or resentment toward +you. Do not talk more, dear Arthur. To-morrow, perhaps, you will be +stronger, and then we will speak again. Here comes your mother, and she +will scold me for letting you fatigue yourself so much." + +"Raise me a little on the pillow, please. I seem to breathe more heavily +to-night. Thank you, I will sleep now. Good night, mother; I will eat +the gruel when I wake. I had rather sleep now. Good night, Harold!" + +He fell into a slumber almost immediately, and they would not disturb +him, although his mother had prepared the food he had been used to +take. + +"I think he is better to-night. He seems to sleep more tranquilly," said +Mrs. Wayne. "If you will step below, I have got a dish of tea for you, +and some little supper." + +Harold went down and refreshed himself at the widow's neat and +hospitable board, and then walked out into the evening, to dissipate, if +possible, the cloud that was lowering about his heart. He paced up and +down the avenue of willows, and though the fresh night air soothed the +fever of his brain, he could not chase away the gloom that weighed upon +his spirit. His mind wandered among mournful memories--the field of +battle, strewn with the dying and the dead; the hospital where brave +suffering men were groaning under the surgeon's knife; the sick chamber, +where his friend was dying. + +"And I, too," he thought, "have become the craftsman of Death, training +my arm and intellect to be cunning in the butchery of my fellows! +Wearing the instrument of torture at my side, and using the faculties +God gave me to mutilate His image. Yet, from the pulpit and the +statesman's chair, and far back through ages from the pages of history, +precept and example have sought to record its justification, under the +giant plea of necessity. But is it justified? Has man, in his +enlightenment, sufficiently studied to throw aside the hereditary errors +that come from the past, clothed in barbarous splendors to mislead +thought and dazzle conscience? Oh, for one glimpse of the Eternal Truth! +to teach us how far is delegated to mortal man the right to take away +the life he cannot give. When shall the sword be held accursed? When +shall man cease to meddle with the most awful prerogative of his God? +When shall our right hands be cleansed forever from the stain of blood, +and homicide be no longer a purpose and a glory upon earth? I shudder +when I look up at the beautiful serenity of this autumn sky, and +remember that my deed has loosened an immortal soul from its clay, and +hurled it, unprepared, into its Maker's presence. My conscience would +rebuke my hand, should it willfully shatter the sculptor's marble +wrought into human shape, or deface the artist's ideal pictured upon +canvas, or destroy aught that is beautiful and costly of man's ingenuity +and labor. And yet these I might replace with emptying a purse into the +craftsman's hand. But will my gold recall the vital spark into those +cold forms that, stricken by my steel or bullet, are rotting in their +graves? The masterpiece of God I have destroyed. His image have I +defaced; the wonderful mechanism that He alone can mold, and molded for +His own holy purpose, have I shattered and dismembered; the soul, an +essence of His own eternity, have I chased from its alotted earthly +home, and I rely for my justification upon--what?--the fact that my +victim differed from me in political belief. Must the hand of man be +raised against the workmanship of God because an earthly bond has been +sundered? Our statesmen teach us so, the ministers of our faith +pronounce it just; but, oh God! should it be wrong! When the blood is +hot, when the heart throbs with exaltation, when martial music swells, +and the war-steed prances, and the bayonets gleam in the bright +sunlight--then I think not of the doubt, nor of the long train of +horrors, the tears, the bereavements, the agonies, of which this martial +magnificence is but the vanguard. But now, in the still calmness of the +night, when all around me and above me breathes of the loveliness and +holiness of peace, I fear. I question nature, hushed as she is and +smiling in repose, and her calm beauty tells me that Peace is sacred; +that her Master sanctions no discords among His children. I question my +own conscience, and it tells me that the sword wins not the everlasting +triumph--that the voice of war finds no echo within the gates of +heaven." + +Ill-comforted by his reflections, he returned to the quiet dwelling, and +entered the chamber of his friend. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + +The sufferer was still sleeping, and Mrs. Wayne was watching by the +bedside. Harold seated himself beside her, and gazed mournfully upon the +pale, still features that already, but for the expression of pain that +lingered there, seemed to have passed from the quiet of sleep to the +deeper calm of death. + +"Each moment that I look," said Mrs. Wayne, wiping her tears away, "I +seem to see the grey shadows of the grave stealing over his brow. The +doctor was here a few moments before you came. The minister, too, sat +with him all the morning. I know from their kind warning that I shall +soon be childless. He has but a few hours to be with me. Oh, my son! my +son!" + +She bent her head upon the pillow, and wept silently in the bitterness +of her heart. Harold forebore to check that holy grief; but when the +old lady, with Christian resignation, had recovered her composure, he +pressed her to seek that repose which her aged frame so much needed. + +"I will sit by Arthur while you rest awhile; you have already overtasked +your strength with vigil. I will awake you should there be a change." + +She consented to lie upon the sofa, and soon wept herself to sleep, for +she was really quite broken down with watching. Everything was hushed +around, save the monotones of the insects in the fields, and the +breathing of those that slept. If there is an hour when the soul is +lifted above earth and communes with holy things, it is in the stillness +of the country night, when the solitary watcher sits beside the pillow +of a loved one, waiting the coming of the dark angel, whose footsteps +are at the threshold. Harold sat gazing silently at the face of the +invalid; sometimes a feeble smile would struggle with the lines of +suffering upon the pinched and haggard lineaments, and once from the +white lips came the murmur of a name, so low that only the solemn +stillness made the sound palpable--the name of Oriana. + +Toward midnight, Arthur's breathing became more difficult and painful, +and his features changed so rapidly that Harold became fearful that the +end was come. With a sigh, he stepped softly to the sofa, and wakened +Mrs. Wayne, taking her gently by the hand which trembled in his grasp. +She knew that she was awakened to a terrible sorrow--that she was about +to bid farewell to the joy of her old age. Arthur opened his eyes, but +the weeping mother turned from them; she could not bear to meet them, +for already the glassy film was veiling the azure depths whose light had +been so often turned to her in tenderness. + +"Give me some air, mother. It is so close--I cannot breathe." + +They raised him upon the pillow, and his mother supported the languid +head upon her bosom. + +"Arthur, my son! are you suffering, my poor boy?" + +"Yes. It will pass away. Do not grieve. Kiss me, dear mother." + +He was gasping for breath, and his hand was tightly clasped about his +mother's withered palm. She wiped the dampness from his brow, mingling +her tears with the cold dews of death. + +"Is Harold there?" + +"Yes, Arthur." + +"You will not forget? And you will love and guard her well?" + +"Yes, Arthur." + +"Put away the sword, Harold; it is accursed of God. Is not that the +moonlight that streams upon the bed?" + +"Yes. Does it disturb you, Arthur?" + +"No. Let it come in. Let it all come in; it seems a flood of glory." + +His voice grew faint, till they could scarce hear its murmur. His +breathing was less painful, and the old smile began to wreathe about his +lips, smoothing the lines of pain. + +"Kiss me, dear mother! You need not hold me. I am well enough--I am +happy, mother. I can sleep now." + +He slept no earthly slumber. As the summer air that wafts a rose-leaf +from its stem, gently his last sigh stole upon the stillness of the +night. Harold lifted the lifeless form from the mother's arms, and when +it drooped upon the pillow, he turned away, that the parent might close +the lids of the dead son. + + +THE END. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession +by Benjamin Wood + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12452 *** diff --git a/12452-h/12452-h.htm b/12452-h/12452-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..25523c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/12452-h/12452-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6081 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fort Lafayette, by Benjamin Wood. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12452 ***</div> + +<h1>FORT LAFAYETTE</h1> + +<h1>OR</h1> + +<h1>LOVE AND SECESSION</h1> +<br /> + +<h2>A Novel</h2> + +<h2>BY BENJAMIN WOOD</h2> +<br /> + +<h2>MDCCCLXII</h2> + +<h2>1862</h2> + + +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>——"Whom they please they lay in basest bonds."<br /></span> +<span><i>Venice Preserved.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"O, beauteous Peace!<br /></span> +<span>Sweet union of a state! what else but thou<br /></span> +<span>Gives safety, strength, and glory to a people?"<br /></span> +<span><i>Thomson.</i><br /></span> +</div></div><br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Oh, Peace! thou source and soul of social life;<br /></span> +<span>Beneath whose calm inspiring influence,<br /></span> +<span>Science his views enlarges, art refines,<br /></span> +<span>And swelling commerce opens all her ports;<br /></span> +<span>Blest be the man divine, who gives us thee!"<br /></span> +<span><i>Thomson.</i><br /></span> +</div></div><br /> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"A peace is of the nature of a conquest;<br /></span> +<span>For then both parties nobly are subdued,<br /></span> +<span>And neither party loser."<br /></span> +<span><i>Shakspeare.</i><br /></span> +</div></div><br /> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<br /> + + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><b>CHAPTER XXV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><b>CHAPTER XXVI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXVII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXVIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXIX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXX"><b>CHAPTER XXX</b></a><br /> + +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_I"></a><h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>There is a pleasant villa on the southern bank of the James River, a few +miles below the city of Richmond. The family mansion, an old fashioned +building of white stone, surrounded by a spacious veranda, and embowered +among stately elms and grave old oaks, is sure to attract the attention +of the traveller by its picturesque appearance, and the dreamy elegance +and air of comfort that pervade the spot. The volumes of smoke that roll +from the tall chimneys, the wide portals of the hall, flung open as if +for a sign of welcome, the merry chat and cheerful faces of the sable +household, lazily alternating their domestic labors with a sly romp or a +lounge in some quiet nook, these and other traits of the old Virginia +home, complete the picture of hospitable affluence which the stranger +instinctively draws as his gaze lingers on the grateful scene. The house +stands on a wooded knoll, within a bowshot of the river bank, and from +the steps of the back veranda, where creeping flowers form a perfumed +network of a thousand hues, the velvety lawn shelves gracefully down to +the water's edge.</p> + +<p>Toward sunset of one of the early days of April, 1861, a young girl +stood leaning upon the wicket of a fence which separated the garden from +the highway. She stood there dreamily gazing along the road, as if +awaiting the approach of some one who would be welcome when he came. The +slanting rays of the declining sun glanced through the honeysuckles and +tendrils that intertwined among the white palings, and threw a subdued +light upon her face. It was a face that was beautiful in repose, but +that promised to be more beautiful when awakened into animation. The +large, grey eyes were half veiled with their black lashes at that +moment, and their expression was thoughtful and subdued; but ever as the +lids were raised, when some distant sound arrested her attention, the +expression changed with a sudden flash, and a gleam like an electric +fire darted from the glowing orbs. Her features were small and +delicately cut, the nostrils thin and firm, and the lips most +exquisitely molded, but in the severe chiselling of their arched lines +betraying a somewhat passionate and haughty nature. But the rose tint +was so warm upon her cheek, the raven hair clustered with such luxuriant +grace about her brows, and the <i>petite</i> and lithe figure was so +symmetrical at every point, that the impression of haughtiness was lost +in the contemplation of so many charms.</p> + +<p>Oriana Weems, the subject of our sketch, was an orphan. Her father, a +wealthy Virginian, died while his daughter was yet an infant, and her +mother, who had been almost constantly an invalid, did not long survive. +Oriana and her brother, Beverly, her senior by two years, had thus been +left at an early age in the charge of their mother's sister, a maiden +lady of excellent heart and quiet disposition, who certainly had most +conscientiously fulfilled the sacred trust. Oriana had returned but a +twelvemonth before from a northern seminary, where she had gathered up +more accomplishments than she would ever be likely to make use of in the +old homestead; while Beverly, having graduated at Yale the preceding +month, had written to his sister that she might expect him that very +day, in company with his classmate and friend, Arthur Wayne.</p> + +<p>She stood, therefore, at the wicket, gazing down the road, in +expectation of catching the first glimpse of her brother and his friend, +for whom horses had been sent to Richmond, to await their arrival at the +depot. So much was she absorbed in revery, that she failed to observe a +solitary horseman who approached from the opposite direction. He plodded +leisurely along until within a few feet of the wicket, when he quietly +drew rein and gazed for a moment in silence upon the unconscious girl. +He was a tall, gaunt man, with stooping shoulders, angular features, +lank, black hair and a sinister expression, in which cunning and malice +combined. He finally urged his horse a step nearer, and as softly as +his rough voice would admit, he bade: "Good evening, Miss Oriana."</p> + +<p>She started, and turned with a suddenness that caused the animal he rode +to swerve. Recovering her composure as suddenly, she slightly inclined +her head and turning from him, proceeded toward the house.</p> + +<p>"Stay, Miss Oriana, if you please."</p> + +<p>She paused and glanced somewhat haughtily over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"May I speak a word with you?"</p> + +<p>"My aunt, sir, is within; if you have business, I will inform her of +your presence."</p> + +<p>"My business is with you, Miss Weems," and, dismounting, he passed +through the gate and stepped quickly to her side.</p> + +<p>"Why do you avoid me?"</p> + +<p>Her dark eye flashed in the twilight, and she drew her slight form up +till it seemed to gain a foot in height.</p> + +<p>"We do not seek to enlarge our social circle, Mr. Rawbon. You will +excuse me if I leave you abruptly, but the night dew begins to fall."</p> + +<p>She moved on, but he followed and placed his hand gently on her arm. +She shook it off with more of fierceness than dignity, and the man's +eyes fairly sought the ground beneath the glance she gave him.</p> + +<p>"You know that I love you," he said, in a hoarse murmur, "and that's the +reason you treat me like a dog."</p> + +<p>She turned her back upon him, and walked, as if she heard him not, along +the garden path. His brow darkened, and quickening his pace, he stepped +rudely before her and blocked the way.</p> + +<p>"Look you, Miss Weems, you have insulted me with your proud ways time +and time again, and I have borne it tamely, because I loved you, and +because I've sworn that I shall have you. It's that puppy, Harold Hare, +that has stepped in between you and me. Now mark you," and he raised his +finger threateningly, "I won't be so meek with him as I've been with +you."</p> + +<p>The girl shuddered slightly, but recovering, walked forward with a step +so stately and commanding, that Rawbon, bold and angry as he was, +involuntarily made way for her, and she sprang up the steps of the +veranda and passed into the hall. He stood gazing after her for a +moment, nervously switching the rosebush at his side with his heavy +horsewhip; then, with a muttered curse, he strode hastily away, and +leaping upon his horse, galloped furiously down the road.</p> + +<p>Seth Rawbon was a native of Massachusetts, but for some ten years +previously to the date at which our tale commences, he had been mostly a +resident of Richmond, where his acuteness and active business habits had +enabled him to accumulate an independent fortune. His wealth and +vigorous progressive spirit had given him a certain degree of influence +among the middle classes of the community, but his uncouth manner, and a +suspicion that he was not altogether free from the degradation of +slave-dealing, had, to his great mortification and in spite of his +persistent efforts, excluded him from social intercourse with the +aristocracy of the Old Dominion. He was not a man, however, to give way +to obstacles, and with characteristic vanity and self-reliance, he had, +shortly after her return from school, greatly astonished the proud +Oriana with a bold declaration of love and an offer of his hand and +fortune. Not intimidated by a sharp and decidedly ungracious refusal, he +had at every opportunity advocated his hopeless suit, and with so much +persistence and effrontery, that the object of his unwelcome passion had +been goaded from indifference to repugnance and absolute loathing. +Harold Hare, whose name he had mentioned with so much bitterness in the +course of the interview we have represented, was a young Rhode Islander, +who had, upon her brother's invitation, sojourned a few weeks at the +mansion some six months previously, while on his way to engage in a +surveying expedition in Western Virginia. He had promised to return in +good time, to join Beverly and his guest, Arthur Wayne, at the close of +their academic labors.</p> + +<p>A few moments after Rawbon's angry departure, the family carriage drove +rapidly up to the hall door, and the next instant Beverly was in his +sister's arms, and had been affectionately welcomed by his +old-fashioned, kindly looking aunt. As he turned to introduce his +friend, Arthur, the latter was gazing with an air of absent admiration +upon the kindled features of Oriana. The two young men were of the same +age, apparently about one-and-twenty; but in character and appearance +they were widely different. Beverly was, in countenance and manner, +curiously like his sister, except that the features were bolder and more +strongly marked. Arthur, on the contrary, was delicate in feature almost +to effeminacy. His brow was pale and lofty, and above the auburn locks +were massed like a golden coronet. His eyes were very large and blue, +with a peculiar softness and sadness that suited well the expression of +thoughtfulness and repose about his lips. He was taller than his friend, +and although well-formed and graceful, was slim and evidently not in +robust health. His voice, as he spoke in acknowledgment of the +introduction, was low and musical, but touched with a mournfulness that +was apparent even in the few words of conventional courtesy that he +pronounced.</p> + +<p>Having thus domiciliated them comfortably in the old hall, we will leave +them to recover from the fatigues of the journey, and to taste of the +plentiful hospitalities of Riverside manor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_II"></a><h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Early in the fresh April morning, the party at Riverside manor were +congregated in the hall, doing full justice to Aunt Nancy's substantial +breakfast.</p> + +<p>"Oriana," said Beverly, as he paused from demolishing a well-buttered +batter cake, and handed his cup for a second supply of the fragrant +Mocha, "I will leave it to your <i>savoir faire</i> to transform our friend +Arthur into a thorough southerner, before we yield him back to his Green +Mountains. He is already half a convert to our institutions, and will +give you not half so much trouble as that obstinate Harold Hare."</p> + +<p>She slightly colored at the name, but quietly remarked:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wayne must look about him and judge from his own observation, not +my arguments. I certainly do not intend to annoy him during his visit, +with political discussions."</p> + +<p>"And yet you drove Harold wild with your flaming harangues, and gave +him more logic in an afternoon ride than he had ever been bored with in +Cambridge in a month."</p> + +<p>"Only when he provoked and invited the assault," she replied, smiling. +"But I trust, Mr. Wayne, that the cloud which is gathering above our +country will not darken the sunshine of your visit at Riverside manor. +It is unfortunate that you should have come at an unpropitious moment, +when we cannot promise you that perhaps there will not be some cold +looks here and there among the townsfolk, to give you a false impression +of a Virginia welcome."</p> + +<p>"Not at all, Oriana; Arthur will have smiles and welcome enough here at +the manor house to make him proof against all the hard looks in +Richmond. I prevailed on him to come at all hazards, and we are bound to +have a good time and don't want you to discourage us; eh, Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"I am but little of a politician, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "although I +take our country's differences much at heart. I shall surely not provoke +discussion with you, like our friend Harold, upon an unpleasant +subject, while you give me <i>carte blanche</i> to enjoy your conversation +upon themes more congenial to my nature."</p> + +<p>She inclined her head with rather more of gravity than the nature of the +conversation warranted, and her lips were slightly compressed as she +observed that Arthur's blue eyes were fixed pensively, but intently, on +her face.</p> + +<p>The meal being over, Oriana and Wayne strolled on the lawn toward the +river bank, while the carriage was being prepared for a morning drive. +They stood on the soft grass at the water's edge, and as Arthur gazed +with a glow of pleasure at the beautiful prospect before him, his fair +companion pointed out with evident pride the many objects of beauty and +interest that were within view on the opposite bank.</p> + +<p>"Are you a sailor, Mr. Wayne? If so, we must have out the boat this +afternoon, and you will find some fairy nooks beyond the bend that will +repay you for exploring them, if you have a taste for a lovely +waterscape. I know you are proud of the grand old hills of your native +State, but we have something to boast of too in our Virginia scenery."</p> + +<p>"If you will be my helmswoman, I can imagine nothing more delightful +than the excursion you propose. But I am inland bred, and must place +myself at the mercy of your nautical experience."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am a skillful captain, Mr. Wayne, and will make a good sailor of +you before you leave us. Mr. Hare will tell you that I am to be trusted +with the helm, even when the wind blows right smartly, as it sometimes +does even on that now placid stream. But with his memories of the +magnificent Hudson, he was too prone to quiz me about what he called our +pretty rivulet. You know him, do you not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well. He was Beverly's college-mate and mine, though somewhat our +senior."</p> + +<p>"And your warm friend, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and well worthy our friendship. Somewhat high-tempered and +quick-spoken, but with a heart—like your brother's, Miss Weems, as +generous and frank as a summer day."</p> + +<p>"I do not think him high-tempered beyond the requisites of manhood," she +replied, with something like asperity in her tone. "I cannot endure +your meek, mild mannered men, who seem to forget their sex, and almost +make me long to change my own with them, that their sweet dispositions +may be better placed."</p> + +<p>He glanced at her with a somewhat surprised air, that brought a slight +blush to her cheek; but he seemed unconscious of it, and said, almost +mechanically:</p> + +<p>"And yet, that same high spirit, which you prize so dearly, had, in his +case, almost caused you a severe affliction."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Have you not heard how curiously Beverly's intimacy with Harold was +brought about? And yet it was not likely that he should have told you, +although I know no harm in letting you know."</p> + +<p>She turned toward him with an air of attention, as if in expectation.</p> + +<p>"It was simply this. Not being class-mates, they had been almost +strangers to each other at college, until, by a mere accident, an +argument respecting your Southern institutions led to an angry dispute, +and harsh words passed between them. Being both of the ardent +temperament you so much admire, a challenge ensued, and, in spite of my +entreaty and remonstrance, a duel. Your brother was seriously wounded, +and Harold, shocked beyond expression, knelt by his side as he lay +bleeding on the sward, and bitterly accusing himself, begged his +forgiveness, and, I need not add, received it frankly. Harold was +unremitting in his attentions to your brother during the period of his +illness, and from the day of that hostile meeting, the most devoted +friendship has existed between them. But it was an idle quarrel, Miss +Weems, and was near to have cost you an only brother."</p> + +<p>She remained silent for a few moments, and was evidently affected by the +recital. Then she spoke, softly as if communing with herself: "Harold is +a brave and noble fellow, and I thank God that he did not kill my +brother!" and a bright tear rolled upon her cheek. She dashed it away, +almost angrily, and glancing steadily at Arthur:</p> + +<p>"Do you condemn duelling?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly."</p> + +<p>"But what would you have men do in the face of insult? Would you not +have fought under the same provocation?"</p> + +<p>"No, nor under any provocation. I hold too sacred the life that God has +given. With God's help, I shall not shed human blood, except in the +strict line of necessity and duty."</p> + +<p>"It is evident, sir, that you hold your own life most sacred," she said, +with a curl of her proud lip that was unmistakable.</p> + +<p>She did not observe the pallor that overspread his features, nor the +expression, not of anger, but of anguish, that settled upon his face, +for she had turned half away from him, and was gazing vacantly across +the river. There was an unpleasant pause, which was broken by the noise +of voices in alarm near the house, the trampling of hoofs, and the +rattle of wheels.</p> + +<p>The carriage had been standing at the door, while Beverly was arranging +some casual business, which delayed him in his rooms. While the +attention of the groom in charge had been attracted by some freak of his +companions, a little black urchin, not over five years of age, had +clambered unnoticed into the vehicle, and seizing the long whip, began +to flourish it about with all his baby strength. The horses, which were +high bred and spirited, had become impatient, and feeling the lash, +started suddenly, jerking themselves free from the careless grasp of the +inattentive groom. The sudden shout of surprise and terror that arose +from the group of idle negroes, startled the animals into a gallop, and +they went coursing, not along the road, but upon the lawn, straight +toward the river bank, which, in the line of their course, was +precipitous and rocky. As Oriana and Arthur turned at the sound, they +beheld the frightened steeds plunging across the lawn, and upon the +carriage seat the little fellow who had caused the mischief was +crouching bewildered and helpless, and screaming with affright. Oriana +clasped her hands, and cried tearfully:</p> + +<p>"Oh! poor little Pomp will be killed!"</p> + +<p>In fact the danger was imminent, for the lawn at that spot merged into a +rocky space, forming a little bluff which overhung the stream some +fifteen, feet. Oriana's hand was laid instinctively upon Arthur's +shoulder, and with the other she pointed, with a gesture of bewildered +anxiety, at the approaching vehicle. Arthur paused only long enough to +understand the situation, and then stepping calmly a few paces to the +left, stood directly in the path of the rushing steeds.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wayne! no, no!" cried Oriana, in a tone half of fear and half +supplication; but he stood there unmoved, with the same quiet, mournful +expression that he habitually wore. The horses faltered somewhat when +they became conscious of this fixed, calm figure directly in their +course. They would have turned, but their impetus was too great, and +they swerved only enough to bring the head of the off horse in a line +with Arthur's body. As coolly as if he was taking up a favorite book, +but with a rapid movement, he grasped the rein below the bit with both +hands firmly, and swung upon it with his whole weight. The frightened +animal turned half round, stumbled, and rolled upon his side, his mate +falling upon his knees beside him; the carriage was overturned with a +crash, and little Pompey pitched out upon the greensward, unhurt.</p> + +<p>By this time, Beverly, followed by a crowd of excited negroes, had +reached the spot.</p> + +<p>"How is it, Arthur," said Beverly, placing his hand affectionately on +his friend's shoulder, "are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No," he replied, the melancholy look softening into a pleasant smile; +but as he rose and adjusted his disordered dress, he coughed +painfully—the same dry, hacking cough that had often made those who +loved him turn to him with an anxious look. It was evident that his +delicate frame was ill suited to such rough exercise.</p> + +<p>"We shall be cheated out of our ride this morning," said Beverly, "for +that axle has been less fortunate than you, Arthur; it is seriously +hurt."</p> + +<p>They moved slowly toward the house, Oriana looking silently at the grass +as she walked mechanically at her brother's side. When Arthur descended +into the drawing-room, after having changed his soiled apparel, he found +her seated there alone, by the casement, with her brow upon her hand. He +sat down at the table and glanced abstractedly over the leaves of a +scrap-book. Thus they sat silently for a quarter hour, when she arose, +and stood beside him.</p> + +<p>"Will you forgive me, Mr. Wayne?"</p> + +<p>He looked up and saw that she had been weeping. The haughty curl of the +lip and proud look from the eye were all gone, and her expression was of +humility and sorrow. She held out her hand to him with an air almost of +entreaty. He raised it respectfully to his lips, and with the low, +musical voice, sadder than ever before, he said:</p> + +<p>"I am sorry that you should grieve about anything. There is nothing to +forgive. Let us forget it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wayne, how unkind I have been, and how cruelly I have wronged +you!"</p> + +<p>She pressed his hand between both her palms for a moment, and looked +into his face, as if studying to read if some trace of resentment were +not visible. But the blue eyes looked down kindly and mournfully upon +her, and bursting into tears, she turned from him, and hurriedly left +the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_III"></a><h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The incident related in the preceding chapter seemed to have effected a +marked change in the demeanor of Oriana toward her brother's guest. She +realized with painful force the wrong that her thoughtlessness, more +than her malice, had inflicted on a noble character, and it required all +of Arthur's winning sweetness of disposition to remove from her mind the +impression that she stood, while in his presence, in the light of an +unforgiven culprit. They were necessarily much in each other's company, +in the course of the many rambles and excursions that were devised to +relieve the monotony of the old manor house, and Oriana was surprised to +feel herself insensibly attracted toward the shy and pensive man, whose +character, so far as it was betrayed by outward sign, was the very +reverse of her own impassioned temperament. She discovered that the +unruffled surface covered an under-current of pure thought and exquisite +feeling, and when, on the bosom of the river, or in the solitudes of +the forest, his spirit threw off its reserve under the spell of nature's +inspiration, she felt her own impetuous organization rebuked and held in +awe by the simple and quiet grandeur that his eloquence revealed.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, some two weeks after his arrival at the Riverside manor, +while returning from a canter in the neighborhood, they paused upon an +eminence that overlooked a portion of the city of Richmond. There, upon +an open space, could be seen a great number of the citizens assembled, +apparently listening to the harangue of an orator. The occasional cheer +that arose from the multitude faintly reached their ears, and that mass +of humanity, restless, turbulent and excited, seemed, even at that +distance, to be swayed by some mighty passion.</p> + +<p>"Look, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "at this magnificent circle of gorgeous +scenery, that you are so justly proud of, that lies around you in the +golden sunset like a dream of a fairy landscape. See how the slanting +rays just tip the crest of that distant ridge, making it glow like a +coronet of gold, and then, leaping into the river beneath; spangle its +bosom with dazzling sheen, save where a part rests in the purple shadow +of the mountain. Look to the right, and see how those crimson clouds +seem bending from heaven to kiss the yellow corn-fields that stretch +along the horizon. And at your feet, the city of Richmond extends along +the valley."</p> + +<p>"We admit the beauty of the scene and the accuracy of the description," +said Beverly, "but, for my part, I should prefer the less romantic view +of some of Aunt Nancy's batter-cakes, for this ride has famished me."</p> + +<p>"Now look below," continued Arthur, "at that swarm of human beings +clustering together like angry bees. As we stand here gazing at the +glorious pageant which nature spreads out before us, one might suppose +that only for some festival of rejoicing or thanksgiving would men +assemble at such an hour and in such a scene. But what are the beauties +of the landscape, bathed in the glories of the setting-sun, to them? +They have met to listen to words of passion and bitterness, to doctrines +of strife, to denunciations and criminations against their fellow-men. +And, doubtless, a similar scene of freemen invoking the spirit of +contention that we behold yonder in that pleasant valley of the Old +Dominion, is being enacted at the North and at the South, at the East +and at the West, all over the length and breadth of our country. The +seeds of discord are being carefully and persistently gathered and +disseminated, and on both sides, these erring mortals will claim to be +acting in the name of patriotism. Beverly, do you surmise nothing +ominous of evil in that gathering?"</p> + +<p>"Ten to one, some stirring news from Charleston. We must ride over after +supper, Arthur, and learn the upshot of it."</p> + +<p>"And I will be a sybil for the nonce," said Oriana, with a kindling eye, +"and prophecy that Southern cannon have opened upon Sumter."</p> + +<p>In the evening, in despite of a threatening sky, Arthur and Beverly +mounted their horses and galloped toward Richmond. As they approached +the city, the rain fell heavily and they sought shelter at a wayside +tavern. Observing the public room to be full, they passed into a private +parlor and ordered some slight refreshment. In the adjoining tap-room +they could hear the voices of excited men, discussing some topic of +absorbing interest. Their anticipations were realized, for they quickly +gathered from the tenor of the disjointed conversation that the +bombardment of Fort Sumter had begun.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet my pile," said a rough voice, "that the gridiron bunting won't +float another day in South Carolina."</p> + +<p>"I'll go you halves on that, hoss, and you and I won't grow greyer nor +we be, before Old Virginny says 'me too.'"</p> + +<p>"Seth Rawbon, you'd better be packing your traps for Massachusetts. +She'll want you afore long."</p> + +<p>"Boys," ejaculated the last-mentioned personage, with an oath, "I left +off being a Massachusetts man twelve years ago. I'm with <i>you,</i> and you +know it. Let's drink. Boys, here's to spunky little South Carolina; may +she go in and win! Stranger, what'll you drink?"</p> + +<p>"I will not drink," replied a clear, manly voice, which had been silent +till then.</p> + +<p>"And why will you not drink?" rejoined the other, mocking the dignified +and determined tone in which the invitation was refused.</p> + +<p>"It is sufficient that I will not."</p> + +<p>"Mayhap you don't like my sentiment?"</p> + +<p>"Right."</p> + +<p>"Look you, Mr. Harold Hare, I know you well, and I think we'll take you +down from your high horse before you're many hours older in these parts. +Boys, let's make him drink to South Carolina."</p> + +<p>"Who is he, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"He's an abolitionist; just the kind that'll look a darned sight more +natural in a coat of tar and feathers. Cut out his heart and you'll find +John Brown's picture there as large as life."</p> + +<p>At the mention of Harold's name, Arthur and Beverly had started up +simultaneously, and throwing open the bar-room door, entered hastily. +Harold had risen from his seat and stood confronting Rawbon with an air +in which anger and contempt were strangely blended. The latter leaned +with awkward carelessness against the counter, sipping a glass of +spirits and water with a malicious smile.</p> + +<p>"You are an insolent scoundrel," said Harold, "and I would horsewhip +you, if you were worth the pains."</p> + +<p>Rawbon looked around and for a second seemed to study the faces of +those about him. Then lazily reaching over toward Harold, he took him by +the arm and drew him toward the counter.</p> + +<p>"Say, you just come and drink to South Carolina."</p> + +<p>The heavy horsewhip in Harold's hand rose suddenly and descended like a +flash. The knotted lash struck Rawbon full in the mouth, splitting the +lips like a knife. In an instant several knives were drawn, and Rawbon, +spluttering an oath through the spurting blood that choked his +utterance, drew a revolver from its holster at his side.</p> + +<p>The entrance of the two young men was timely. They immediately placed +themselves in front of Harold, and Arthur, with his usual mild +expression, looked full in Rawbon's eye, although the latter's pistol +was in a line with his breast.</p> + +<p>"Stand out of the way, you two," shouted Rawbon, savagely.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this, gentlemen?" said Beverly, quietly, to the +excited bystanders, to several of whom he was personally known.</p> + +<p>"Squire Weems," replied one among them, "you had better stand aside. +Rawbon has a lien on that fellow's hide. He's an abolitionist, anyhow, +and ain't worth your interference."</p> + +<p>"He is my very intimate friend, and I will answer for him to any one +here," said Beverly, warmly.</p> + +<p>"I will answer for myself," said Hare, pressing forward.</p> + +<p>"Then answer that!" yelled Rawbon, levelling and shooting with a rapid +movement. But Wayne's quiet eye had been riveted upon him all the while, +and he had thrown up the ruffian's arm as he pulled the trigger.</p> + +<p>Beverly's eyes flashed like live coals, and he sprang at Rawbon's +throat, but the crowd pressed between them, and for a while the utmost +confusion prevailed, but no blows were struck. The landlord, a sullen, +black-browed man, who had hitherto leaned silently on the counter, +taking no part in the fray, now interposed.</p> + +<p>"Come, I don't want no more loose shooting here!" and, by way of +assisting his remark, he took down his double-barrelled shot-gun and +jumped upon the counter. The fellow was well known for a desperate +though not quarrelsome character, and his action had the effect of +somewhat quieting the excited crowd.</p> + +<p>"Boys," continued he, "it's only Yankee against Yankee, anyhow; if +they're gwine to fight, let the stranger have fair play. Here stranger, +if you're a friend of Squire Weems, you kin have a fair show in my +house, I reckon, so take hold of this," and taking a revolver from his +belt, he passed it to Beverly, who cocked it and slipped it into +Harold's hand. Rawbon, who throughout the confusion had been watching +for the opportunity of a shot at his antagonist, now found himself front +to front with the object of his hate, for the bystanders had +instinctively drawn back a space, and even Wayne and Weems, willing to +trust to their friend's coolness and judgment, had stepped aside.</p> + +<p>Harold sighted his man as coolly as if he had been aiming at a squirrel. +Rawbon did not flinch, for he was not wanting in physical courage, but +he evidently concluded that the chances were against him, and with a +bitter smile, he walked slowly toward the door. Turning at the +threshold, he scowled for a moment at Harold, as if hesitating whether +to accept the encounter.</p> + +<p>"I'll fix you yet," he finally muttered, and left the room. A few +moments afterward, the three friends were mounted and riding briskly +toward Riverside manor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV"></a><h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Oriana, after awaiting till a late hour the return of her brother and +his friend, had retired to rest, and was sleeping soundly when the party +entered the house, after their remarkable adventure. She was therefore +unconscious, upon descending from her apartment in the morning, of the +addition to her little household. Standing upon the veranda, she +perceived what she supposed to be her brother's form moving among the +shrubbery in the garden. She hastened to accost him, curious to +ascertain the nature of the excitement in Richmond on the preceding +afternoon. Great was her astonishment and unfeigned her pleasure, upon +turning a little clump of bushes, to find herself face to face with +Harold Hare.</p> + +<p>He had been lost in meditation, but upon seeing her his brow lit up as a +midnight sky brightens when a passing cloud has unshrouded the full +moon. With a cry of joy she held out both her hands to him, which he +pressed silently for a moment as he gazed tenderly upon the upturned, +smiling face, and then, pushing back the black tresses, he touched her +white forehead with his lips.</p> + +<p>Arthur Wayne was looking out from his lattice above, and his eye chanced +to turn that way at the moment of the meeting. He started as if struck +with a sudden pang, and his cheek, always pale, became of an ashen hue. +Long he gazed with labored breath upon the pair, as if unable to realize +what he had seen; then, with a suppressed moan, he sank into a chair, +and leaned his brow heavily upon his hand. Thus for half an hour he +remained motionless; it was only after a second summons that he roused +himself and descended to the morning meal.</p> + +<p>At the breakfast table Oriana was in high spirits, and failed to observe +that Arthur was more sad than usual. Her brother, however, was +preoccupied and thoughtful, and even Harold, although happy in the +society of one he loved, could not refrain from moments of abstraction. +Of course the adventure of the preceding night was concealed from +Oriana, but it yet furnished the young men with matter for reflection; +and, coupled with the exciting intelligence from South Carolina, it +suggested, to Harold especially, a vision of an unhappy future. It was +natural that the thought should obtrude itself of how soon a barrier +might be placed between friends and loved ones, and the most sacred ties +sundered, perhaps forever.</p> + +<p>Miss Randolph, Oriana's aunt, usually reserved and silent, seemed on +this occasion the most inquisitive and talkative of the party. Her +interest in the momentous turn that affairs had taken was naturally +aroused, and she questioned the young men closely as to their view of +the probable consequences.</p> + +<p>"Surely," she remarked, "a nation of Christian people will choose some +alternative other than the sword to adjust their differences."</p> + +<p>"Why, aunt," replied Oriana, with spirit, "what better weapon than the +sword for the oppressed?"</p> + +<p>"I fear there is treason lurking in that little heart of yours," said +Harold, with a pensive smile.</p> + +<p>"I am a true Southerner, Mr. Hare; and if I were a man, I would take +down my father's rifle and march into General Beauregard's camp. We have +been too long anathematized as the vilest of God's creatures, because we +will not turn over to the world's cold charity the helpless beings that +were bequeathed into our charge by our fathers. I would protect my slave +against Northern fanaticism as firmly as I would guard my children from +the interference of a stranger, were I a mother."</p> + +<p>"The government against which you would rebel," said Harold, +"contemplates no interference with your slaves."</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Hare," rejoined Oriana, warmly, "we of the South can see the +spirit of abolitionism sitting in the executive chair, as plainly as we +see the sunshine on an unclouded summer day. As well might we change +places with our bondmen, as submit to this deliberate crusade against +our institutions. Mr. Wayne, you are a man not prone to prejudice, I +sincerely believe. Would you from your heart assert that this government +is not hostile to Southern slavery?"</p> + +<p>"I believe you are, on both sides, too sensitive upon the unhappy +subject. You are breeding danger, and perhaps ruin, out of abstract +ideas, and civil war will have laid the country waste before either +party will have awakened to a knowledge that no actual cause of +contention exists."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Beverly, "the mere fact that the two sections are +hostile in sentiment, is the best reason why they should be hostile in +deed, if a separation can only be accomplished by force of arms."</p> + +<p>"And do you really fancy," said Harold, sharply, "that a separation is +possible, in the face of the opposition of twenty millions of loyal +citizens?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," interrupted Oriana, "in the face of the opposing world. We +established our right to self-government in 1776; and in 1861 we are +prepared to prove our power to sustain that right."</p> + +<p>"You are a young enthusiast," said Harold, smiling. "This rebellion will +be crushed before the flowers in that garden shall be touched with the +earliest frost."</p> + +<p>"I think you have formed a false estimate of the movement," remarked +Beverly, gravely; "or rather, you have not fully considered of the +subject."</p> + +<p>"Harold," said Arthur, sadly, "I regret, and perhaps censure, equally +with yourself, the precipitancy of our Carolinian brothers; but this is +not an age, nor a country, where six millions of freeborn people can be +controlled by bayonets and cannon."</p> + +<p>They were about rising from the table, when a servant announced that +some gentlemen desired to speak with Mr. Weems in private. He passed +into the drawing-room, and found himself in the presence of three men, +two of whom he recognized as small farmers of the neighborhood, and the +other as the landlord of a public house. With a brief salutation, he +seated himself beside them, and after a few commonplace remarks, paused, +as if to learn their business with him.</p> + +<p>After a little somewhat awkward hesitation, the publican broke silence.</p> + +<p>"Squire Weems, we've called about a rather unpleasant sort of business"</p> + +<p>"The sooner we transact it, then, the better for all, I fancy, +gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Just so. Old Judge Weems, your father, was a true Virginian, squire, +and we know you are of the right sort, too." Beverly bowed in +acknowledgment of the compliment. "Squire, the boys hereabouts met down +thar at my house last night, to take into consideration them two +Northern fellows that are putting up with you."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir?"</p> + +<p>"We don't want any Yankee abolitionists in these parts."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lucas, I have no guests for whom I will not vouch."</p> + +<p>"Can't help that, squire, them chaps is spotted, and the boys have voted +they must leave. As they be your company, us three've been deputized to +call on you and have a talk about it. We don't want to do nothing +unpleasant whar you're consarned, squire."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, my guests shall remain with me while they please to honor me +with their company, and I will protect them from violence or indignity +with my life."</p> + +<p>"There's no mistake but you're good grit, squire, but 'tain't no use. +You know what the boys mean to do, they'll do. Now, whar's the good of +kicking up a shindy about it?"</p> + +<p>"No good whatever, Mr. Lucas. You had better let this matter drop. You +know me too well to suppose that I would harbor dangerous characters. It +is my earnest desire to avoid everything that may bring about an +unnecessary excitement, or disturb the peace of the community; and I +shall therefore make no secret of this, interview to my friends. But +whether they remain with me or go, shall be entirely at their option. I +trust that my roof will be held sacred by my fellow-citizens."</p> + +<p>"There'll be no harm done to you or yours, Squire Weems, whatever +happens. But those strangers had better be out of these parts by +to-morrow, sure. Good morning, squire."</p> + +<p>"Good morning, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>And the three worthies took their departure, not fully satisfied whether +the object of their mission had been fulfilled.</p> + +<p>Beverly, anxious to avoid a collision with the wild spirits of the +neighborhood, which would be disagreeable, if not dangerous, to his +guests, frankly related to Harold and Arthur the tenor of the +conversation that had passed. Oriana was on fire with indignation, but +her concern for Harold's safety had its weight with her, and she wisely +refrained from opposing their departure; and both the young men, aware +that a prolongation of their visit would cause the family at Riverside +manor much inconvenience and anxiety, straightway announced their +intention of proceeding northward on the following morning.</p> + +<p>But it was no part of Seth Rawbon's purpose to allow his rival, Hare, to +depart in peace. The chastisement which he had received at Harold's +hands added a most deadly hate to the jealousy which his knowledge of +Oriana's preference had caused. He had considerable influence with +several of the dissolute and lawless characters of the vicinity, and a +liberal allowance of Monongahela, together with sundry pecuniary favors, +enabled him to depend upon their assistance in any adventure that did +not promise particularly serious results. Now the capture and mock trial +of a couple of Yankee strangers did not seem much out of the way to +these not over-scrupulous worthies; and Rawbon's cunning +representations as to the extent of their abolition proclivities were +scarcely necessary, in view of the liberality of his bribes, to secure +their cooperation in his scheme.</p> + +<p>Rawbon had been prowling about the manor house during the day, in the +hope of obtaining some clue to the intentions of the inmates, and +observing a mulatto boy engaged in arranging the boat for present use, +he walked carelessly along the bank to the old boat-house, and, by a few +adroit questions, ascertained that "Missis and the two gen'lmen gwine to +take a sail this arternoon."</p> + +<p>The evening was drawing on apace when Oriana, accompanied by Arthur and +Harold, set forth on the last of the many excursions they had enjoyed on +James River; but they had purposely selected a late hour, that on their +return they might realize the tranquil pleasures of a sail by moonlight. +Beverly was busy finishing some correspondence for the North, which he +intended giving into the charge of his friend Arthur, and he therefore +remained at home. Phil, a smart mulatto, about ten years of age, who was +a general favorite in the family and an especial pet of Oriana, was +allowed to accompany the party.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely evening, only cool enough to be comfortable for Oriana +to be wrapped in her woollen shawl. As the shadows of twilight darkened +on the silent river, a spirit of sadness was with the party, that vague +and painful melancholy that weighs upon the heart when happy ties are +about to be sundered, and loved ones are about to part. Arthur had +brought his flute, and with an effort to throw off the feeling of gloom, +he essayed a lively air; but it seemed like discord by association with +their thoughts. He ceased abruptly, and, at Oriana's request, chose a +more mournful theme. When the last notes of the plaintive melody had +been lost in the stillness of the night, there was an oppressive pause, +only broken by the rustle of the little sail and the faint rippling of +the wave.</p> + +<p>"I seem to be sailing into the shadows of misfortune," said Oriana, in a +low, sad tone. "I wish the moon would rise, for this darkness presses +upon my heart like the fingers of a sorrowful destiny. What a coward I +am to-night!"</p> + +<p>"A most obedient satellite," replied Arthur. "Look where she heralds +her approach by spreading a misty glow on the brow of yonder hill."</p> + +<p>"We have left the shadows of misfortune behind us," said Harold, as a +flood of moonlight flashed over the river, seeming to dash a million of +diamonds in the path of the gliding boat.</p> + +<p>"Alas! the fickle orb!" murmured Oriana; "it rises but to mock us, and +hides itself already in the bosom of that sable cloud. Is there not a +threat of rain there, Mr. Hare?"</p> + +<p>"It looks unpromising, at the best," said Harold; "I think it would be +prudent to return."</p> + +<p>Suddenly, little Phil, who had been lying at ease, with his head against +the thwarts, arose on his elbow and cried out:</p> + +<p>"Wha'dat?"</p> + +<p>"What is what, Phil?" asked Oriana. "Why, Phil, you have been dreaming," +she added, observing the lad's confusion at having spoken so vehemently.</p> + +<p>"Miss Orany, dar's a boat out yonder. I heard 'em pulling, sure."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Phil! you've been asleep."</p> + +<p>"By Gol! I heard 'em, sure. What a boat doing round here dis time o' +night? Dem's some niggers arter chickens, sure."</p> + +<p>And little Phil, satisfied that he had fathomed the mystery, lay down +again in a fit of silent indignation. The boat was put about, but the +wind had died away, and the sail flapped idly against the mast. Harold, +glad of the opportunity for a little exercise, shipped the sculls and +bent to his work.</p> + +<p>"Miss Oriana, put her head for the bank if you please. We shall have +less current to pull against in-shore."</p> + +<p>The boat glided along under the shadow of the bank, and no sound was +heard but the regular thugging and splashing of the oars and the voices +of insects on the shore. They approached a curve in the river where the +bank was thickly wooded, and dense shrubbery projected over the stream.</p> + +<p>"Wha' dat?" shouted Phil again, starting up in the bow and peering into +the darkness. A boat shot out from the shadow of the foliage, and her +course was checked directly in their path. The movement was so sudden +that, before Harold could check his headway, the two boats fouled. A +boathook was thrust into the thwarts; Arthur sprang to the bows to cast +it off.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch that," shouted a hoarse voice; and he felt the muzzle of a +pistol thrust into his breast.</p> + +<p>"None of that, Seth," cried another; and the speaker laid hold of his +comrade's arm. "We must have no shooting, you know."</p> + +<p>Arthur had thrown off the boathook, but some half-dozen armed men had +already leaped into the frail vessel, crowding it to such an extent that +a struggle, even had it not been madness against such odds, would have +occasioned great personal danger to Oriana. Both Arthur and Harold +seemed instinctively to comprehend this, and therefore offered no +opposition. Their boat was taken in tow, and in a few moments the entire +party, with one exception, were landed upon the adjacent bank. That +exception was little Phil. In the confusion that ensued upon the +collision of the two boats, the lad had quietly slipped overboard, and +swam ground to the stern where his mistress sat. "Miss Orany, hist! Miss +Orany!"</p> + +<p>The bewildered girl turned and beheld the black face peering over the +gunwale.</p> + +<p>"Miss Orany, here I is. O Lor'! Miss Orany, what we gwine to do?"</p> + +<p>She bowed her head toward him and whispered hurriedly, but calmly:</p> + +<p>"Mind what I tell you, Phil. You watch where they take us to, and then +run home and tell Master Beverly. Do you understand me, Phil?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I does, Miss Orany;" and the little fellow struck out silently for +the shore, and crept among the bushes.</p> + +<p>Oriana betrayed no sign, of fear as she stood with her two companions on +the bank a few paces from their captors. The latter, in a low but +earnest tone, were disputing with one who seemed to act as their leader.</p> + +<p>"You didn't tell us nothing about the lady," said a brawny, +rugged-looking fellow, angrily. "Now, look here, Seth Rawbon, this ain't +a goin' to do. I'd cut your heart out, before I'd let any harm come to +Squire Weems's sister."</p> + +<p>"You lied to us, you long-headed Yankee turncoat," muttered another. +"What in thunder do you mean bringing us down here for kidnapping a +lady?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't I worried about it as much as you?" answered Rawbon. "Can't you +understand it's all a mistake?"</p> + +<p>"Well, now, you go and apologize to Miss Weems and fix matters, d'ye +hear?"</p> + +<p>"But what can we do?"</p> + +<p>"Do? Undo what you've done, and show her back into the boat."</p> + +<p>"But the two abo"—</p> + +<p>"Damn them and you along with 'em! Come, boys, don't let's keep the lady +waiting thar."</p> + +<p>The party approached their prisoners, and one among them, hat in hand, +respectfully addressed Oriana.</p> + +<p>"Miss Weems, we're plaguy sorry this should 'a happened. It's a mistake +and none of our fault. Your boat's down thar and yer shan't be +merlested."</p> + +<p>"Am I free to go?" asked Oriana, calmly.</p> + +<p>"Free as air, Miss Weems."</p> + +<p>"With my companions?"</p> + +<p>"No, they remain with us," said Rawbon.</p> + +<p>"Then I remain with them," she replied, with dignity and firmness.</p> + +<p>The man who had first remonstrated with Rawbon, stepped up to him and +laid his hand heavily on his shoulder:</p> + +<p>"Look here, Seth Rawbon, you've played out your hand in this game, now +mind that. Miss Weems, you're free to go, anyhow, with them chaps or +not, just as you like."</p> + +<p>They stepped down the embankment, but the boats were nowhere to be seen. +Rawbon, anticipating some trouble with his gang, had made a pretence +only of securing the craft to a neighboring bush. The current had +carried the boats out into the stream, and they had floated down the +river and were lost to sight in the darkness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_V"></a><h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>There was no remedy but to cross the woodland and cornfields that for +about a league intervened between their position and the highway. They +commenced the tedious tramp, Arthur and Harold exerting themselves to +the utmost to protect Oriana from the brambles, and to guide her +footsteps along the uneven ground and among the decayed branches and +other obstacles that beset their path. Their rude companions, too, with +the exception of Rawbon, who walked moodily apart, seemed solicitous to +assist her with their rough attentions. To add to the disagreeable +nature of their situation, the rain began to fall in torrents before +they had accomplished one half of the distance. They were then in the +midst of a tract of wooded land that was almost impassable for a lady in +the darkness, on account of the yielding nature of the soil, and the +numerous ruts and hollows that were soon transformed into miniature +pools and streams. Oriana strove to treat the adventure as a theme for +laughter, and for awhile chatted gaily with her companions; but it was +evident that she was fast becoming weary, and that her thin-shod feet +were wounded by constant contact with the twigs and sharp stones that it +was impossible to avoid in the darkness. Her dress was torn, and heavy +with mud and moisture, and the two young men were pained to perceive +that, in spite of her efforts and their watchful care, she stumbled +frequently with exhaustion, and leaned heavily on their arms as she +labored through the miry soil.</p> + +<p>One of the party opportunely remembered a charcoal-burner's hut in the +vicinity, that would at least afford a rude shelter from the driving +storm. Several of the men hastened in search of it, and soon a halloo +not far distant indicated that the cabin, such as it was, had been +discovered. As they approached, they were surprised to observe rays of +light streaming through the cracks and crevices, as if a fire were +blazing within. It was an uninviting structure, hastily constructed of +unhewn logs, and upon ordinary occasions Oriana would have hesitated to +pass the threshold; but wet and weary as she was, she was glad to +obtain the shelter of even so poor a hovel.</p> + +<p>"There's a runaway in thar, I reckon," said one of the party. He threw +open the door, and several of the men entered. A fire of logs was +burning on the earthen floor, and beside it was stretched a negro's +form, wrapped in a tattered blanket. He started up as his unwelcome +visitors entered, and looked frightened and bewildered, as if suddenly +awakened from a sound sleep. However, he had no sooner laid eyes upon +Seth Rawbon than, with a yell of fear, he sprang with a powerful leap +through the doorway, leaving his blanket in the hands of those who +sought to grasp him.</p> + +<p>"That's my nigger Jim!" cried Rawbon, discharging his revolver at the +dusky form as it ran like a deer into the shadow of the woods. At every +shot, the negro jumped and screamed, but, from his accelerated speed, +was apparently untouched.</p> + +<p>"After him, boys!" shouted Rawbon. "Five dollars apiece and a gallon of +whisky if you bring the varmint in."</p> + +<p>With a whoop, the whole party went off in chase and were soon lost to +view in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Harold and Arthur led Oriana into the hut, and, spreading their coats +upon the damp floor, made a rude couch for her beside the fire. The poor +girl was evidently prostrated with fatigue and excitement, yet, with a +faint laugh and a jest as she glanced around upon the questionable +accommodations, she thanked them for their kindness, and seated herself +beside the blazing fagots.</p> + +<p>"This is a strange finale to our pleasure excursion," she said, as the +grateful warmth somewhat revived her spirits. "You must acknowledge me a +prophetess, gentlemen," she added, with a smile, "for you see that we +sailed indeed into the shadows of misfortune."</p> + +<p>"Should your health not suffer from this exposure," replied Arthur, "our +adventure will prove no misfortune, but only a theme for mirth +hereafter, when we recall to mind our present piteous plight."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am strong, Mr. Wayne," she answered cheerfully, perceiving the +expression of solicitude in the countenances of her companions, "and +have passed the ordeal of many a thorough wetting with impunity. Never +fear but I shall fare well enough. I am only sorry and ashamed that all +our boasted Virginia hospitality can afford you no better quarters than +this for your last night among us."</p> + +<p>"Apart from the discomfort to yourself, this little episode will only +make brighter by contrast my remembrance of the many happy hours we have +passed together," said Arthur, with a tone of deep feeling that caused +Oriana to turn and gaze thoughtfully into the flaming pile.</p> + +<p>Harold said nothing, and stood leaning moodily against the wall of the +hovel, evidently a prey to painful thoughts. His mind wandered into the +glooms of the future, and dwelt upon the hour when he, perhaps, should +tread with hostile arms the soil that was the birthplace of his beloved. +"Can it be possible," he thought, "that between us twain, united as we +are in soul, there can exist such variance of opinion as will make her +kin and mine enemies, and perhaps the shedders of each other's blood!"</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and Oriana, her raiment being partially dried, +rested her head upon her arm and slumbered.</p> + +<p>The storm increased in violence, and the rain, pelting against the cabin +roof, with its weird music, formed a dismal accompaniment to the +grotesque discomfort of their situation. Arthur threw fresh fuel upon +the fire, and the crackling twigs sent up a fitful flame, that fell +athwart the face of the sleeping girl, and revealed an expression of +sorrow upon her features that caused him to turn away with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Arthur," asked Harold, abruptly, "do you think this unfortunate affair +at Sumter will breed much trouble?"</p> + +<p>"I fear it," said Arthur, sadly. "Our Northern hearts are made of +sterner stuff than is consistent with the spirit of conciliation."</p> + +<p>"And what of Southern hearts?"</p> + +<p>"You have studied them," said Arthur, with a pensive smile, and bending +his gaze upon the sleeping maiden.</p> + +<p>Harold colored slightly, and glanced half reproachfully at his friend.</p> + +<p>"I cannot help believing," continued the latter, "that we are blindly +invoking a fatal strife, more in the spirit of exaltation than of calm +and searching philosophy. I am confident that the elements of union +still exist within the sections, but my instinct, no less than my +judgment, tells me that they will no longer exist when the +chariot-wheels of war shall have swept over the land. Whatever be the +disparity of strength, wealth and numbers, and whatever may be the +result of encounters upon the battle-field, such a terrible war as both +sides are capable of waging can never build up or sustain a fabric whose +cement must be brotherhood and kindly feeling. I would as soon think to +woo the woman of my choice with angry words and blows, as to reconcile +our divided fellow citizens by force of arms."</p> + +<p>"You are more a philosopher than a patriot," said Harold, with some +bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Not so," answered Arthur, warmly. "I love my country—so well, indeed, +that I cannot be aroused into hostility to any section of it. My reason +does not admit the necessity for civil war, and it becomes therefore a +sacred obligation with me to give my voice against the doctrine of +coercion. My judgment may err, or my sensibilities may be 'too full of +the milk of human kindness' to serve the stern exigencies of the crisis +with a Spartan's callousness and a Roman's impenetrability; but for you +to affirm that, because true to my own opinions, I must be false to my +country, is to deny me that independence of thought to which my country, +as a nation, owes its existence and its grandeur."</p> + +<p>"You boast your patriotism, and yet you seem to excuse those who seek +the dismemberment of your country."</p> + +<p>"I do not excuse them, but I would not have them judged harshly, for I +believe they have acted under provocation."</p> + +<p>"What provocation can justify rebellion against a government so +beneficent as ours?"</p> + +<p>"I will not pretend to justify, because I think there is much to be +forgiven on either side. But if anything can palliate the act, it is +that system of determined hostility which for years has been levelled +against an institution which they believe to be righteous and founded +upon divine precept. But I think this is not the hour for justification +or for crimination. I am convinced that the integrity of the Union can +only be preserved by withholding the armed hand at this crisis. And +pray Heaven, our government may forbear to strike!"</p> + +<p>"Would you, then, have our flag trampled upon with impunity, and our +government confessed a cipher, because, forsooth, you have a +constitutional repugnance to the severities of warfare? Away with such +sickly sentimentality! Such theories, if carried into practice, would +reduce us to a nation of political dwarfs and puny drivellers, fit only +to grovel at the footstools of tyrants."</p> + +<p>"I could better bear an insult to our flag than a deathblow to our +nationality. And I feel that our nationality would not survive a +struggle between the sections. There is no danger that we should be +dwarfed in intellect or spirit by practising forbearance toward our +brothers."</p> + +<p>"Is treason less criminal because it is the treason of brother against +brother? If so, then must a traitor of necessity go unpunished, since +the nature of the crime requires that the culprit be your countryman. +How hollow are your arguments when applied to existing facts!"</p> + +<p>"You forget that I counsel moderation as an expediency, as even a +necessity, for the public good. It were poor policy to compass the +country's ruin for the sake of bringing chastisement upon error."</p> + +<p>"That can be but a questionable love of country that would humiliate a +government to the act of parleying with rebellion."</p> + +<p>"My love of country is not confined to one section of the country, or to +one division of my countrymen. The lessons of the historic past have +taught me otherwise. If, when a schoolboy, poring over the pages of my +country's history, I have stood, in imagination, with Prescott at Bunker +Hill, and stormed with Ethan Allen at the gates of Ticonderoga, I have +also mourned with Washington at Valley Forge, and followed Marion and +Sumter through the wilds of Carolina. If I have fancied myself at work +with Yankee sailors at the guns, and poured the shivering broadside into +the Guerriere, I have helped to man the breastworks at New Orleans, and +seen the ranks that stood firm at Waterloo wavering before the blaze of +Southern rifles. If I have read of the hardy Northern volunteers on the +battle-plains of Mexico; I remember the Palmetto boys at Cherubusco, +and the brave Mississippians at Buena Vista. Is it a wonder, then, that +my heartstrings ache when I see the links breaking that bind me to such +memories? If I would have the Government parley awhile for the sake of +peace, even although the strict law sanction the bayonet and cannon, I +do it in the name of the sacred past, when the ties of brotherhood were +strong. I counsel not humiliation nor submission, but conciliation. I +counsel it, not only as an expedient, but as a tribute to the affinities +of almost a century. I love the Union too well to be willing that its +fate should be risked upon the uncertainties of war. I believe in my +conscience that the chances of its reconstruction depend rather upon +negotiation than upon battles. I may err, or you, as my opponent in +opinion, may err; for while I assume not infallibility for myself, I +deny it, with justice, to my neighbor. But I think as my heart and +intellect dictate, and my patriotism should not be questioned by one as +liable to error as myself. Should I yield my honest convictions upon a +question of such vital importance as my country's welfare, then indeed +should I be a traitor to my country and myself. But to accuse me of +questionable patriotism for my independence of thought, is, in itself, +treason against God and man."</p> + +<p>"I believe you sincere in your convictions, Arthur, not because touched +by your argument, but because I have known you too long and well to +believe you capable of an unworthy motive. But what, in the name of +common justice, would you have us do, when rebellion already thunders at +the gates of our citadels with belching cannon? Shall we sit by our +firesides and nod to the music of their artillery?"</p> + +<p>"I would have every American citizen, in this crisis, as in all others, +divest himself of all prejudice and sectional feeling: I would have him +listen to and ponder upon the opinions of his fellow citizens, and, with +the exercise of his best judgment, to discard the bad, and take counsel +from the good; then, I would have him conclude for himself, not whether +his flag has been insulted, or whether there are injuries to avenge, or +criminals to be punished, but what is best and surest to be done for +the welfare of his country. If he believe the Union can only be +preserved by war, let his voice be for war; if by peace, let him counsel +peace, as I do, from my heart; if he remain in doubt, let him incline to +peace, secure that in so doing he will best obey the teachings of +Christianity, the laws of humanity, and the mighty voice that is +speaking from the soul of enlightenment, pointing out the errors of the +past, and disclosing the secret of human happiness for the future."</p> + +<p>Arthur's eye kindled as he spoke, and the flush of excitement, to which +he was habitually a stranger, colored his pale cheek. Oriana had +awakened with the vehemence of his language, and gazing with interest +upon his now animated features, had been listening to his closing words. +Harold was about to answer, when suddenly the baying of a hound broke +through the noise of the storm.</p> + +<p>"That is a bloodhound!" exclaimed Harold with an accent of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Oriana. "There are no bloodhounds in this neighborhood, +nor are they at all in use, I am sure, in Virginia."</p> + +<p>"I am not mistaken," replied Harold. "I have been made familiar with +their baying while surveying on the coast of Florida. Listen!"</p> + +<p>The deep, full tones came swelling upon the night wind, and fell with a +startling distinctness upon the ear.</p> + +<p>"It's my hound, Mister Hare," said a low, coarse voice at the doorway, +and Seth Rawbon entered the cabin and closed the door behind him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI"></a><h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"It's my hound. Miss Weems, and I guess he's on the track of that +nigger, Jim."</p> + +<p>Oriana started as if stung by a serpent, and rising to her feet, looked +upon the man with such an expression of contempt and loathing that the +ruffian's brow grew black with anger as he returned her gaze. Harold +confronted him, and spoke in a low, earnest tone, and between his +clenched teeth:</p> + +<p>"If you are a man you will go at once. This persecution of a woman is +beneath even your brutality. If you have an account with me, I will not +balk you. But relieve her from the outrage of your presence here."</p> + +<p>"I guess I'd better be around," replied Rawbon, coolly, as he leaned +against the door, with his hands in his coat pocket. "That dog is +dangerous when he's on the scent. You see, Miss Weems," he continued, +speaking over Harold's shoulder, "my niggers are plaguy troublesome, +and I keep the hound to cow them down a trifle. But he wouldn't hurt a +lady, I think—unless I happened to encourage him a bit, do you see."</p> + +<p>And the man showed his black teeth with a grin that caused Oriana to +shudder and turn away.</p> + +<p>Harold's brow was like a thunder-cloud, from beneath which his eyes +flashed like the lightning at midnight.</p> + +<p>"Your words imply a threat which I cannot understand. Ruffian! What do +mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean no good to you, my buck!"</p> + +<p>His lip, with the deep cut upon it, curled with hate, but he still +leaned coolly against the door, though a quick ear might have caught a +click, as if he had cocked a pistol in his pocket. It was a habit with +Harold to go unarmed. Fearless and self-reliant by nature, even upon his +surveying expeditions in wild and out of the way districts, he carried +no weapon beyond sometimes a stout oaken staff. But now, his form +dilated, and the muscles of his arm contracted, as if he were about to +strike. Oriana understood the movement and the danger. She advanced +quietly but quickly to his side, and took his hand within her own.</p> + +<p>"He is not worth your anger, Harold. For my sake, Harold, do not provoke +him further," she added softly, as she drew him from the spot.</p> + +<p>At this moment the baying of the hound was heard, apparently in close +proximity to the hovel, and presently there was a heavy breathing and +snuffling at the threshold, followed by a bound against the door, and a +howl of rage and impatience. Nothing prevented the entrance of the +animal except the form of Rawbon, who still leaned quietly against the +rude frame, which, hanging upon leathern hinges, closed the aperture.</p> + +<p>There was something frightful in the hoarse snarling of the angry beast, +as he dashed his heavy shoulder against the rickety framework, and +Oriana shrank nervously to Harold's side.</p> + +<p>"Secure that dog!" he said, as, while soothing the trembling girl, he +looked over his shoulder reproachfully at Rawbon. His tone was low, and +even gentle, but it was tremulous with passion. But the man gave no +answer, and continued leering at them as before.</p> + +<p>Arthur walked to him and spoke almost in an accent of entreaty.</p> + +<p>"Sir, for the sake of your manhood, take away your dog and leave us."</p> + +<p>He did not answer.</p> + +<p>The hound, excited by the sound of voices, redoubled his efforts and his +fury. Oriana was sinking into Harold's arms.</p> + +<p>"This must end," he muttered. "Arthur, take her from me, she's fainting. +I'll go out and brain the dog."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, not yet," whispered Arthur. "For her sake be calm," and while +he received Oriana upon one arm, with the other he sought to stay his +friend.</p> + +<p>But Harold seized a brand from the fire, and sprang toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Stand from the door," he shouted, lifting the brand above Rawbon's +head. "Leave that, I say!"</p> + +<p>Rawbon's lank form straightened, and in an instant the revolver flashed +in the glare of the fagots.</p> + +<p>He did not shoot, but his face grew black with passion.</p> + +<p>"By God! you strike me, and I'll set the dog at the woman."</p> + +<p>At the sound of his master's voice, the hound set up a yell that seemed +unearthly. Harold was familiar with the nature of the species, and even +in the extremity of his anger, his anxiety for Oriana withheld his arm.</p> + +<p>"Look you here!" continued Rawbon, losing his quiet, mocking tone, and +fairly screaming with excitement, "do you see this?" He pointed to his +mangled lip, from which, by the action of his jaws while talking, the +plaster had just been torn, and the blood was streaming out afresh. "Do +you see this? I've got that to settle with you. I'll hunt you, by G—d! +as that hound hunts a nigger. Now see if I don't spoil that pretty face +of yours, some day, so that she won't look so sweet on you for all your +pretty talk."</p> + +<p>He seemed to calm abruptly after this, put up his pistol, and resumed +the wicked leer.</p> + +<p>"What would you have?" at last asked Arthur, mildly and with no trace of +anger in his voice.</p> + +<p>Rawbon turned to him with a searching glance, and, after a pause, said:</p> + +<p>"Terms."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"I want to make terms with you."</p> + +<p>"About what?"</p> + +<p>"About this whole affair."</p> + +<p>"Well. Go on."</p> + +<p>"I know you can hurt me for this with the law, and I know you mean to. +Now I want this matter hushed up."</p> + +<p>Harold would have spoken, but Arthur implored him with a glance, and +answered:</p> + +<p>"What assurance can you give us against your outrages in the future?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"None! Then why should we compromise with you?"</p> + +<p>"Because I've got the best hand to-night, and you know it. For her, you +know, you'll do 'most anything—now, won't you?"</p> + +<p>The fellow's complaisant smile caused Arthur to look away with disgust. +He turned to Harold, and they were conferring about Rawbon's strange +proposition, when Oriana raised her head suddenly and her face assumed +an expression of attention, as if her ear had caught a distant sound. +She had not forgotten little Phil, and knowing his sagacity and +faithfulness, she depended much upon his having followed her +instructions. And indeed, a moment after, the plashing of the hoofs of +horses in the wet soil could be distinctly heard.</p> + +<p>"Them's my overseer and his man, I guess," said Rawbon, with composure, +and he smiled again as he observed how effectually he had checked the +gleam of joy that had lightened Oriana's face.</p> + +<p>"'Twas he, you see, that set the dog on Jim's track, and now he's +following after, that's all."</p> + +<p>He had scarcely concluded, when a vigorous and excited voice was heard, +shouting: "There 'tis!—there's the hut, gentlemen! Push on!"</p> + +<p>"It is my brother! my brother!" cried Oriana, clasping her hands with +joy; and for the first time that night she burst into tears and sobbed +on Harold's shoulder.</p> + +<p>Rawbon's face grew livid with rage and disappointment. He flung open the +door and sprang out into the open air; but Oriana could see him pause +an instant at the threshold, and stooping, point into the cabin. The low +hissing word of command that accompanied the action reached her ear. She +knew what it meant and a faint shriek burst from her lips, more perhaps +from horror at the demoniac cruelty of the man, than from fear. The next +moment, a gigantic bloodhound, gaunt, mud-bespattered and with the froth +of fury oozing from his distended jaws, plunged through the doorway and +stood glaring in the centre of the cabin.</p> + +<p>Oriana stood like a sculptured ideal of terror, white and immovable; +Harold with his left arm encircled the rigid form, while his right hand +was uplifted, weaponless, but clenched with the energy of despair, till +the blood-drops burst from his palm. But Arthur stepped before them both +and fixed his calm blue eyes upon the monster's burning orbs. There was +neither fear, nor excitement, nor irresolution in that steadfast +gaze—it was like the clear, straightforward glance of a father checking +a wayward child—even the habitual sadness lingered in the deep azure, +and the features only changed to be cast in more placid mold. It was +the struggle of a brave and tranquil soul with the ferocious instincts +of the brute. The hound, crouched for a deadly spring, was fascinated by +this spectacle of the utter absence of emotion. His huge chest heaved +like a billow with his labored respiration, but the regular breathing of +the being that awed him was like that of a sleeping child. For full five +minutes—but it seemed an age—this silent but terrible duel was being +fought, and yet no succor came. Beverly and those who came with him must +have changed their course to pursue the fleeing Rawbon.</p> + +<p>"Lead her out softly, Harold," murmured Arthur, without changing a +muscle or altering his gaze. But the agony of suspense had been too +great—Oriana, with a convulsive shudder, swooned and hung like a corpse +upon Harold's arm.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! she is dying, Arthur!" he could not help exclaiming, for it +was indeed a counterpart of death that he held in his embrace.</p> + +<p>Then only did Arthur falter for an instant, and the hound was at his +throat. The powerful jaws closed with a snap upon his shoulder, and you +might have heard the sharp fangs grate against the bone. The shock of +the spring brought Arthur to the ground, and man and brute rolled over +together, and struggled in the mud and gore. Harold bore the lifeless +girl out into the air, and returning, closed the door. He seized a +brand, and with both hands levelled a fierce blow at the dog's neck. The +stick shivered like glass, but the creature only shook his grisly head, +but never quit his hold. With his bare hand he seized the live coals +from the thickest of the fire and pressed them against the flanks and +stomach of the tenacious animal; the brute howled and quivered in every +limb, but still the blood-stained fangs were firmly set into the +lacerated flesh. With both hands clasped around the monster's throat, he +exerted his strength till the finger-bones seemed to crack. He could +feel the pulsations of the dog's heart grow fainter and slower, and +could see in his rolling and upheaved eyeballs that the death-pang was +upon him; but those iron jaws still were locked in the torn shoulder; +and as Harold beheld the big drops start from his friend's ashy brow, +and his eyes filming with the leaden hue of unconsciousness, the +agonizing thought came to him that the dog and the man were dying +together in that terrible embrace.</p> + +<p>It was then that he fairly sobbed with the sensation of relief, as he +heard the prancing of steeds close by the cabin-door; and Beverly, +entering hastily, with a cry of horror, stood one moment aghast as he +looked on the frightful scene. Then, with repeated shots from his +revolver, he scattered the dog's brains over Arthur's blood-stained +bosom.</p> + +<p>Harold arose, and, faint and trembling with excitement and exhaustion, +leaned against the wall. Beverly knelt by the side of the wounded man, +and placed his hand above his heart. Harold turned to him with an +anxious look.</p> + +<p>"He has but fainted from loss of blood," said Beverly. "Harold, where is +my sister?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Oriana, who, in the fresh night air, had recovered from her +swoon, pale and with dishevelled hair, appeared at the cabin-door. +Harold and Beverly sought to lead her out before her eyes fell upon +Arthur's bleeding form; but she had already seen the pale, calm face, +clotted with blood, but with the beautiful sad smile still lingering +upon the parted lips. She appeared to see neither Harold nor her +brother, but only those tranquil features, above which the angel of +Death seemed already to have brushed his dewy wing. She put aside +Beverly's arm, which was extended to support her, and thrust him away as +if he had been a stranger. She unloosed her hand from Harold's +affectionate grasp, and with a long and suppressed moan of intense +anguish, she kneeled down in the little pool of blood beside the +extended form, with her hands tightly clasped, and wept bitterly.</p> + +<p>They raised her tenderly, and assured her that Arthur was not dead.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! oh, no!" she murmured, as the tears streamed out afresh, "he +must not die! He must not die for <i>me</i>! He is so good! so brave! A +child's heart, with the courage of a lion. Oh, Harold! why did you not +save him?"</p> + +<p>But as she took Harold's hand almost reproachfully, she perceived that +it was black and burnt, and he too was suffering; and she leaned her +brow upon his bosom and sobbed with a new sorrow.</p> + +<p>Beverly was almost vexed at the weakness his sister displayed. It was +unusual to her, and he forgot her weariness and the trial she had +passed. He had been binding some linen about Arthur's shoulder, and he +looked up and spoke to her in a less gentle tone.</p> + +<p>"Oriana, you are a child to-night. I have never seen you thus. Come, +help me with this bandage."</p> + +<p>She sighed heavily, but immediately ceased to weep, and said "Yes," +calmly and with firmness. Bending beside her brother, without faltering +or shrinking, she gave her white fingers to the painful task.</p> + +<p>In the stormy midnight, by the fitful glare of the dying embers, those +two silent men and that pale woman seemed to be keeping a vigil in an +abode of death. And the pattering rain and moan of the night-wind +sounded like a dirge.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Several gentlemen of the neighborhood, whom Beverly, upon hearing little +Phil's story, had hastily summoned to his assistance, now entered the +cabin, together with the male negroes of his household, who had mounted +the farm horses and eagerly followed to the rescue of their young +mistress. They had been detained without by an unsuccessful pursuit of +Rawbon, whose flight they had discovered, but who had easily evaded them +in the darkness. A rude litter was constructed for Arthur, but Oriana +declared herself well able to proceed on horseback, and would not listen +to any suggestion of delay on her account. She mounted Beverly's horse, +while he and Harold supplied themselves from among the horses that the +negroes had rode, and thus, slowly and silently, they threaded the +lonely forest, while ever and anon a groan from the litter struck +painfully upon their ears.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the manor house, a physician who had been summoned, +pronounced Arthur's hurt to be serious, but not dangerous. Upon +receiving this intelligence, Oriana and Harold were persuaded to retire, +and Beverly and his aunt remained as watchers at the bedside of the +wounded man.</p> + +<p>Oriana, despite her agitation, slept well, her rest being only disturbed +by fitful dreams, in which Arthur's pale face seemed ever present, now +smiling upon her mournfully, and now locked in the repose of death. She +arose somewhat refreshed, though still feverish and anxious, and walking +upon the veranda to breathe the morning air, she was joined by Harold, +with his hand in a sling, and much relieved by the application of a +poultice, which the skill of Miss Randolph had prepared. He informed her +that Arthur was sleeping quietly, and that she might dismiss all fears +as to his safety; and perhaps, if he had watched her closely, the +earnest expression of something more than pleasure with which she +received this assurance, might have given him cause for rumination. +Beverly descended soon afterward, and confirmed the favorable report +from the sick chamber, and Oriana retired into the house to assist in +preparing the morning meal.</p> + +<p>"Let us take a stroll by the riverside," said Beverly; "the air breathes +freshly after my night's vigil."</p> + +<p>"The storm has left none but traces of beauty behind," observed Harold, +as they crossed the lawn. The loveliness of the early morning was indeed +a pleasant sequel to the rude tempest of the preceding night. The +dewdrops glistened upon grass-blade and foliage, and the bosom of the +stream flashed merrily in the sunbeams.</p> + +<p>"It is," answered Beverly, "as if Nature were rejoicing that the war of +the elements is over, and a peace proclaimed. Would that the black cloud +upon our political horizon had as happily passed away."</p> + +<p>After a pause, he continued: "Harold, you need not fear to remain with +us a while longer. I am sure that Rawbon's confederates are heartily +ashamed of their participation in last night's outrage, and will on no +account be seduced to a similar adventure. Rawbon himself will not be +likely to show himself in this vicinity for some time to come, unless +as the inmate of a jail, for I have ordered a warrant to be issued +against him. The whole affair has resulted evidently from some +unaccountable antipathy which the fellow entertains against us."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," replied Harold, "but still I think this is an +unpropitious time for the prolongation of my visit. There are events, I +fear, breeding for the immediate future, in which I must take a part. I +shall only remain with you a few days, that I may be assured of Arthur's +safety."</p> + +<p>"I will not disguise from you my impression that Virginia will withdraw +from the Union. In that case, we will be nominal enemies. God grant that +our paths may not cross each other."</p> + +<p>"Amen!" replied Harold, with much feeling. "But I do not understand why +we should be enemies. You surely will not lend your voice to this +rebellion?"</p> + +<p>"When the question of secession is before the people of my State, I +shall cast my vote as my judgment and conscience shall dictate. +Meanwhile I shall examine the issue, and, I trust, dispassionately. But +whatever may become of my individual opinion, where Virginia goes I go, +whatever be the event."</p> + +<p>"Would you uphold a wrong in the face of your own conscience?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, I do not hold it a question between right and wrong, +but simply of advisability. The right of secession I entertain no doubt +about."</p> + +<p>"No doubt as to the right of dismembering and destroying a government +which has fostered your infancy, developed your strength, and made you +one among the parts of a nation that has no peer in a world's history? +Is it possible that intellect and honesty can harbor such a doctrine!"</p> + +<p>"My dear Harold, you look at the subject as an enthusiast, and you allow +your heart not to assist but to control your brain. Men, by association, +become attached to forms and symbols, so as in time to believe that upon +their existence depends the substance of which they are but the signs. +Forty years ago, in the Hawaiian Islands, the death-penalty was +inflicted upon a native of the inferior caste, should he chance to pass +over the shadow of one of noble birth. So would you avenge an insult to +a shadow, while you allow the substance to be stolen from your grasp. +Our jewel, as freemen, is the right of self-government; the form of +government is a mere convenience—a machine, which may be dismembered, +destroyed, remodelled a thousand times, without detriment to the great +principle of which it is the outward sign."</p> + +<p>"You draw a picture of anarchy that would disgrace a confederation of +petty savage tribes. What miserable apology for a government would that +be whose integrity depends upon the caprice of the governed?"</p> + +<p>"It is as likely that a government should become tyrannical, as that a +people should become capricious. You have simply chosen an unfair word. +For <i>caprice</i> substitute <i>will</i>, and you have my ideal of a true +republic."</p> + +<p>"And by that ideal, one State, by its individual act, might overturn the +entire system adopted for the convenience and safety of the whole."</p> + +<p>"Not so. It does not follow that the system should be overturned because +circumscribed in limit, more than that a business firm should +necessarily be ruined by the withdrawal of a partner. Observe, Harold, +that the General Government was never a sovereignty, and came into +existence only by the consent of each and every individual State. The +States were the sovereignties, and their connection with the Union, +being the mere creature of their will, can exist only by that will."</p> + +<p>"Why, Beverly, you might as well argue that this pencil-case, which +became mine by an act of volition on your part, because you gave it me, +ceases to be mine when you reclaim it."</p> + +<p>"If I had appointed you my amanuensis, and had transferred my pencil to +you simply for the purposes of your labor in my behalf, when I choose to +dismiss you, I should expect the return of my property. The States made +no gifts to the Federal Government for the sake of giving, but only +delegated certain powers for specific purposes. They never could have +delegated the power of coercion, since no one State or number of States +possessed that power as against their sister States."</p> + +<p>"But surely, in entering into the bonds of union, they formed a +contract with each other which should be inviolable."</p> + +<p>"Then, at the worst, the seceding States are guilty of a breach of +contract with the remaining States, but not with the General Government, +with which they made no contract. They formed a union, it is true. But +of what? Of sovereignties. How can those States be sovereignties which +admit a power above them, possessing the right of coercion? To admit the +right of coercion is to deny the existence of sovereignty."</p> + +<p>"You can find nothing in the Constitution to intimate the right of +secession."</p> + +<p>"Because its framers considered the right sufficiently established by +the very nature of the confederation. The fears upon the subject that +were expressed by Patrick Henry, and other zealous supporters of State +Rights, were quieted by the assurances of the opposite party, who +ridiculed the idea that a convention, similar to that which in each +State adopted the Constitution, could not thereafter, in representation +of the popular will, withdraw such State from the confederacy. You +have, in proof of this, but to refer to the annals of the occasion."</p> + +<p>"I discard the theory as utterly inconsistent with any legislative +power. We have either a government or we have not. If we have one, it +must possess within itself the power to sustain itself. Our chief +magistrate becomes otherwise a mere puppet, and our Congress a shallow +mockery, and the shadow only of a legislative body. Our nationality +becomes a word, and nothing more. Our place among the nations becomes +vacant, and the great Republic, our pride and the world's wonder, +crumbles into fragments, and with its downfall perishes the hope of the +oppressed of every clime. I wonder, Beverly, that you can coldly argue +against the very life of your country, and not feel the parricide's +remorse! Have you no lingering affection for the glorious structure +which our fathers built for and bequeathed to us, and which you now seek +to hurl from its foundations? Have you no pride and love for the brave +old flag that has been borne in the vanguard to victory so often, that +has shrouded the lifeless form of Lawrence, that has gladdened the +heart of the American wandering in foreign climes, and has spread its +sacred folds over the head of Washington, here, on your own native +soil?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Harold, yes! I love the Union, and I love and am proud of the +brave old flag; I would die for either, and, although I reason with you +coldly, my soul yearns to them both, and my heart aches when I think +that soon, perhaps, they will no more belong to me. But I must sacrifice +even my pride and love to a stern sense of duty. So Washington did, when +he hurled his armed squadrons against the proud banner of St. George, +under which he had been trained in soldiership, and had won the laurel +of his early fame. He, too, no doubt, was not without a pang, to be +sundered from his share of Old England's glorious memories, the land of +his allegiance, the king whom he had served, the soil where the bones of +his ancestors lay at rest. It would cause me many a throb of agony to +draw my sword against the standard of the Republic—but I would do it, +Harold, if my conscience bade me, although my nearest friends, although +you, Harold—and I love you dearly—were in the foremost rank."</p> + +<p>"Where I will strive to be, should my country call upon me. But Heaven +forbid that we should meet thus, Beverly!"</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid?" he replied, with a sigh, as he pressed Harold's hand. +"But yonder comes little Phil, running like mad, to tell us, doubtless, +that breakfast is cold with waiting for us."</p> + +<p>They retraced their steps, and found Miss Randolph and Oriana awaiting +their presence at the breakfast-table.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>During the four succeeding days, the house hold at Riverside manor were +much alarmed for Arthur's safety, for a violent fever had ensued, and, +to judge from the physician's evasive answers, the event was doubtful. +The family were unremitting in their attentions, and Oriana, quietly, +but with her characteristic self-will, insisted upon fulfilling her +share of the duties of a nurse. And no hand more gently smoothed the +sick man's pillow or administered more tenderly the cooling draught. It +seemed that Arthur's sleep was calmer when her form was bending over +him, and even when his thoughts were wandering and his eyes were +restless with delirium, they turned to welcome her as she took her +accustomed seat. Once, while she watched there alone in the twilight, +the open book unheeded in her hand, and her subdued eyes bent +thoughtfully upon his face as he slept unconscious of her presence, she +saw the white lips move and heard the murmur of the low, musical voice. +Her fair head was bent to catch the words—they were the words of +delirium or of dreams, but they brought a blush to her cheek. And yet +she bent her head still lower and listened, until her forehead rested on +the pillow, and when she looked up again with a sigh, and fixed her eyes +mechanically on the page before her, there was a trace of tears upon the +drooping lashes.</p> + +<p>He awoke from a refreshing slumber and it seemed that the fever was +gone; for his glance was calm and clear, and the old smile was upon his +lips. When he beheld Oriana, a slight flush passed over his cheek.</p> + +<p>"Are you indeed there, Miss Weems," he said, "or do I still dream? I +have been dreaming, I know not what, but I was very happy." He sighed, +and closed his eyes, as if he longed to woo back the vision which had +fled. She seemed to know what he had been dreaming, for while his cheek +paled again, hers glowed like an autumn cloud at sunset.</p> + +<p>"I trust you are much better, Mr. Wayne?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, much better. I fear I have been very troublesome to you all. +You have been very kind to me."</p> + +<p>"Do not speak so, Mr. Wayne," she replied, and a tear glistened in her +eyes. "If you knew how grateful we all are to you! You have suffered +terribly for my sake, Mr. Wayne. You have a brave, pure heart, and I +could hate myself with thinking that I once dared to wrong and to insult +it."</p> + +<p>"In my turn, I say do not speak so. I pray you, let there be no thoughts +between us that make you unhappy. What you accuse yourself of, I have +forgotten, or remember only as a passing cloud that lingered for a +moment on a pure and lovely sky. There must be no self-reproaches +between us twain, Miss Weems, for we must become strangers to each other +in this world, and when we part I would not leave with you one bitter +recollection."</p> + +<p>There was sorrow in his tone, and the young girl paused awhile and gazed +through the lattice earnestly into the gathering gloom of evening.</p> + +<p>"We must not be strangers, Mr. Wayne."</p> + +<p>"Alas! yes, for to be otherwise were fatal, at least to me."</p> + +<p>She did not answer, and both remained silent and thoughtful, so long, +indeed, that the night shadows obscured the room. Oriana arose and lit +the lamp.</p> + +<p>"I must go and prepare some supper for you," she said, in a lighter +tone.</p> + +<p>He took her hand as she stood at his bed-side and spoke in a low but +earnest voice:</p> + +<p>"You must forget what I have said to you, Miss Weems. I am weak and +feverish, and my brain has been wandering among misty dreams. If I have +spoken indiscreetly, you will forgive me, will you not?"</p> + +<p>"It is I that am to be forgiven, for allowing my patient to talk when +the doctor prescribes silence. I am going to get your supper, for I am +sure you must be hungry; so, good bye," she added gaily, as she smoothed +the pillow, and glided from the room. Oriana was silent and reserved for +some days after this, and Harold seemed also to be disturbed and ill at +ease. Some link appeared to be broken between them, for she did not look +into his eyes with the same frank, trusting gaze that had so often +returned his glance of tenderness, and sometimes even she looked +furtively away with heightened color, when, with some gentle +commonplace, his voice broke in upon her meditation. Arthur was now able +to sit for some hours daily in his easy-chair, and Oriana often came to +him at such times, and although they conversed but rarely, and upon +indifferent themes, she was never weary of reading to him, at his +request, some favorite book. And sometimes, as the author's sentiment +found an echo in her heart, she would pause and gaze listlessly at the +willow branches that waved before the casement, and both would remain +silent and pensive, till some member of the family entered, and broke in +upon their revery.</p> + +<p>"Come, Oriana," said Harold, one afternoon, "let us walk to the top of +yonder hillock, and look at this glorious sunset."</p> + +<p>She went for her bonnet and shawl, and joined him. They had reached the +summit of the hill before either of them broke silence, and then Oriana +mechanically made some commonplace remark about the beauty of the +western sky. He replied with a monosyllable, and sat down upon a +moss-covered rock. She plucked a few wild-flowers, and toyed with them.</p> + +<p>"Oriana, Arthur is much better now."</p> + +<p>"Much better, Harold."</p> + +<p>"I have no fears for his safety now. I think I shall go to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Go, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to New York. The President has appealed to the States for troops. +I am no soldier, but I cannot remain idle while my fellow citizens are +rallying to arms."</p> + +<p>"Will you fight, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"If needs be."</p> + +<p>"Against your countrymen?"</p> + +<p>"Against traitors."</p> + +<p>"Against me, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid that the blood of any of your kin should be upon my +hands. I know how much you have suffered, dearest, with the thought that +this unhappy business may separate us for a time. Think you that the eye +of affection could fail to notice your dejection and reflective mood for +some days past?"</p> + +<p>Her face grew crimson, and she tore nervously the petals of the flower +in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Oriana, you are my betrothed, and no earthly discords should sever our +destinies or estrange our hearts. Why should we part at all. Be mine at +once, Oriana, and go with me to the loyal North, for none may tell how +soon a barrier may be set between your home and me."</p> + +<p>"That would be treason to my kindred and the home of my birth."</p> + +<p>"And to be severed from me—would it not be treason to your heart?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer.</p> + +<p>"I have spoken to Beverly about it, and he will not seek to control you. +We are most unhappy, Oriana, in our national troubles; why should we be +so in our domestic ties. We can be blest, even among the rude alarms of +war. This strife will soon be over, and you shall see the old homestead +once again. But while the dark cloud lowers, I call upon you, in the +name of your pledged affection, to share my fortunes with me, and bless +me with this dear hand."</p> + +<p>That hand remained passively within his own, but her bosom swelled with +emotion, and presently the large tears rolled upon her cheek. He would +have pressed her to his bosom, but she gently turned from him, and +sinking upon the sward, sobbed through her clasped fingers.</p> + +<p>"Why are you thus unhappy, dear Oriana?" he murmured, as he bent +tenderly above her. "Surely you do not love me less because of this +poison of rebellion that infects the land. And with love, woman's best +consolation, to be your comforter, why should you be unhappy?"</p> + +<p>She arose, pale and excited, and raised his hand to her lips. The act +seemed to him a strange one for an affianced bride, and he gazed upon +her with a troubled air.</p> + +<p>"Let us go home, Harold."</p> + +<p>"But tell me that you love me."</p> + +<p>She placed her two hands lightly about his neck, and looked up +mournfully but steadily into his face.</p> + +<p>"I will be your true wife, Harold, and pray heaven I may love you as you +deserve to be loved. But I am not well to-day, Harold. Let us speak no +more of this now, for there is something at my heart that must be +quieted with penitence and prayer. Oh, do not question me, Harold," she +added, as she leaned her cheek upon his breast; "we will talk with +Beverly, and to-morrow I shall be stronger and less foolish. Come, +Harold, let us go home."</p> + +<p>She placed her arm within his, and they walked silently homeward. When +they reached the house, Oriana was hastening to her chamber, but she +lingered at the threshold, and returned to Harold.</p> + +<p>"I am not well to-night, and shall not come down to tea. Good night, +Harold. Smile upon me as you were wont to do," she added, as she pressed +his hand and raised her swollen eyes, beneath whose white lids were +crushed two teardrops that were striving to burst forth. "Give me the +smile of the old time, and the old kiss, Harold," and she raised her +forehead to receive it. "Do not look disturbed; I have but a headache, +and shall be well to-morrow. Good night—dear—Harold."</p> + +<p>She strove to look pleasantly as she left the room, but Harold was +bewildered and anxious, and, till the summons came for supper, he paced +the veranda with slow and meditative steps.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX"></a><h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The following morning was warm and springlike, and Arthur was +sufficiently strong and well to walk out a little in the open air. He +had been seated upon the veranda conversing with Beverly and Harold, +when the latter proposed a stroll with Beverly, with whom he wished to +converse in relation to his proposed marriage. As the beams of the +unclouded sun had already chased away the morning dew, and the air was +warm and balmy, Arthur walked out into the garden and breathed the +freshness of the atmosphere with the exhilaration of a convalescent +freed for the first time from the sick-room. Accidentally, or by +instinct, he turned his steps to the little grove which he knew was +Oriana's favorite haunt; and there, indeed, she sat, upon the rustic +bench, above which the drooping limbs of the willow formed a leafy +canopy. The pensive girl, her white hand, on which she leaned, buried +among the raven tresses, was gazing fixedly into the depths of the +clear sky, as if she sought to penetrate that azure veil, and find some +hope realized among the mysteries of the space beyond. The neglected +volume had fallen from her lap, and lay among the bluebells at her feet. +Arthur's feeble steps were unheard upon the sward, and he had taken his +seat beside her, before, conscious of an intruder, she started from her +dream.</p> + +<p>"The first pilgrimage of my convalescence is to your bower, my gentle +nurse. I have come to thank you for more kindness than I can ever repay, +except with grateful thoughts."</p> + +<p>She had risen when she became aware of his presence; and when she +resumed her seat, it seemed with hesitation, and almost an effort, as if +two impulses were struggling within her. But her pleasure to see him +abroad again was too hearty to be checked, and she timidly gave him the +hand which his extended palm invited to a friendly grasp.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, Mr. Wayne, I am very glad to see you so far recovered."</p> + +<p>"To your kind offices chiefly I owe it, and those of my good friends, +your brother and Harold, and our excellent Miss Randolph. My sick-room +has been the test of so much friendship, that I could almost be sinful +enough to regret the returning health which makes me no longer a +dependent on your care. But you are pale, Miss Weems. Or is it that my +eyes are unused to this broad daylight? Indeed, I trust you are not +ill?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I am quite well," she answered; but it was with an involuntary +sigh that was in contrast with the words. "But you are not strong yet, +Mr. Wayne, and I must not let you linger too long in the fresh morning +air. We had best go in under shelter of the veranda."</p> + +<p>She arose, and would have led the way, but he detained her gently with a +light touch upon her sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Stay one moment, I pray you. I seem to breathe new life with this pure +air, and the perfume of these bowers awakens within me an inexpressible +and calm delight. I shall be all the better for one tranquil hour with +nature in bloom, if you, like the guardian nymph of these floral +treasures, will sit beside me."</p> + +<p>He drew her gently back into the seat, and looked long and earnestly +upon her face. She felt his gaze, but dared not return it, and her fair +head drooped like a flower that bends beneath the glance of a scorching +sun.</p> + +<p>"Miss Weems," he said at last, but his voice was so low and tremulous +that it scarce rose above the rustle of the swinging willow boughs, "you +are soon to be a bride, and in your path the kind Destinies will shower +blessings. When they wreathe the orange blossoms in your hair, and you +are led to the altar by the hand to which you must cling for life, if I +should not be there to wish you joy, you will not deem, will you, that I +am less your friend?"</p> + +<p>The fair head drooping yet lower was her only answer.</p> + +<p>"And when you shall be the mistress of a home where Content will be +shrined, the companion of your virtues, and over your threshold many +friends shall be welcomed, if I should never sit beside your +hearthstone, you will not, will you, believe that I have forgotten, or +that I could forget?"</p> + +<p>Still lower the fair head drooped, but she answered only with a falling +tear.</p> + +<p>"I told you the other day that we should be strangers through life, and +why, I must not tell, although perhaps your woman's heart may whisper, +and yet not condemn me for that which, Heaven knows, I have struggled +against—alas, in vain! Do not turn from me. I would not breathe a word +to you that in all honor you should not hear, although my heart seems +bursting with its longing, and I would yield my soul with rapture from +its frail casket, for but one moment's right to give its secret wings. I +will bid you farewell to-morrow"—</p> + +<p>"To-morrow!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the doctor says that the sea air will do me good, and an occasion +offers to-morrow which I shall embrace. It will be like setting forth +upon a journey through endless solitudes, where my only companions will +be a memory and a sorrow."</p> + +<p>He paused a while, but continued with an effort at composure.</p> + +<p>"Our hearts are tyrants to us, Miss Weems, and will not, sometimes, be +tutored into silence. I see that I have moved, but I trust not offended +you."</p> + +<p>"You have not offended," she murmured, but in so low a tone that perhaps +the words were lost in the faint moan of the swaying foliage.</p> + +<p>"What I have said," he continued earnestly, and taking her hand with a +gentle but respectful pressure, "has been spoken as one who is dying +speaks with his fleeting breath; for evermore my lips shall be shackled +against my heart, and the past shall be sealed and avoided as a +forbidden theme. We are, then, good friends at parting, are we not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And, believe me, I shall be happiest when I think that you are +happy—for you will be happy."</p> + +<p>She sighed so deeply that the words were checked upon his lips, as if +some new emotion had turned the current of his thought.</p> + +<p>"Are you <i>not</i> happy?"</p> + +<p>The tears that, in spite of her endeavor, burst from beneath the +downcast lids, answered him as words could not have done. He was +agitated and unnerved, and, leaning his brow against his hand, remained +silent while she wept.</p> + +<p>"Harold is a noble fellow," he said at last, after a long silence, and +when she had grown calmer, "and deserves to be loved as I am sure you +love him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has a noble heart, and I would die rather than cause him pain."</p> + +<p>"And you love him?"</p> + +<p>"I thought I loved him."</p> + +<p>The words were faint—hardly more than a breath upon her lips; but he +heard them, and his heart grew big with an undefined awe, as if some +vague danger were looming among the shadows of his destiny. Oriana +turned to him suddenly, and clasped his hand within her trembling +fingers.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wayne! you must go, and never see me more. I am standing on the +brink of an abyss, and my heart bids me leap. I see the danger, and, oh +God! I have prayed for power to shun it. But Arthur, Arthur, if you do +not help me, I am lost. You are a man, an honest man, an honorable man, +who will not wrong your friend, or tempt the woman that cannot love you +without sin. Oh, save me from myself—from you—from the cruel wrong +that I could even dream of against him to whom I have sworn my woman's +faith. I am a child in your hands, Arthur, and in the face of the +reproaching Providence above me, I feel—I feel that I am at your mercy. +I feel that what you speak I must listen to; that should you bid me +stand beside you at the altar, I should not have courage to refuse. I +feel, oh God! Arthur, that I love you, and am betrothed to Harold. But +you are strong—you have courage, will, the power to defy such weakness +of the heart—and you will save me, for I know you are a good and honest +man."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, with her face upturned to him, and the hot tears rolling +down her cheeks, her fingers convulsively clasped about his hand, and +her form bending closer and closer toward him, till her cheek was +resting on his bosom, Arthur shuddered with intensity of feeling, and +from his averted eyes the scalding drops, that had never once before +moistened their surface, betrayed how terribly he was shaken with +emotion.</p> + +<p>But while she spoke, rapt as they were within themselves, they saw not +one who stood with folded arms beside the rustic bench, and gazed upon +them.</p> + +<p>"As God is my hope," said Arthur, "I will disarm temptation. Fear not. +From this hour we part. Henceforth the living and the dead shall not be +more estranged than we."</p> + +<p>He arose, but started as if an apparition met his gaze. Oriana knelt +beside him, and touched her lips to his hand in gratitude. An arm raised +her tenderly, and a gentle voice murmured her name.</p> + +<p>It was not Arthur's.</p> + +<p>Oriana raised her head, with a faint cry of terror. She gasped and +swooned upon the intruder's breast.</p> + +<p>It was Harold Hare who held her in his arms.</p> + +<p>Arthur, with folded arms, stood erect, but pale, in the presence of his +friend. His eye, sorrowful, yet calm, was fixed upon Harold, as if +awaiting his angry glance. But Harold looked only on the lifeless form +he held, and parting the tresses from her cold brow, his lips rested +there a moment with such a fond caress as sometimes a father gives his +child.</p> + +<p>"Poor girl!" he murmured, "would that my sorrow could avail for both. +Arthur, I have heard enough to know you would not do me wrong. Grief is +in store for us, but let us not be enemies."</p> + +<p>Mournfully, he gave his hand to Arthur, and Oriana, as she wakened from +her trance, beheld them locked in that sad grasp, like two twin statues +of despair.</p> + +<p>They led her to the house, and then the two young men walked out alone, +and talked frankly and tranquilly upon the subject. It was determined +that both should leave Riverside manor on the morrow, and that Oriana +should be left to commune with her own heart, and take counsel of time +and meditation. They would not grieve Beverly with their secret, at +least not for the present, when his sister was so ill prepared to bear +remonstrance or reproof. Harold wrote a kind letter for Oriana, in which +he released her from her pledged faith, asking only that she should take +time to study her heart, but in no wise let a sense of duty stand in the +way of her happiness. He took pains to conceal the depth of his own +affliction, and to avoid whatever she might construe as reproach.</p> + +<p>They would have gone without an interview with Oriana, but that would +have seemed strange to Beverly. However, Oriana, although pale and +nervous, met them in the morning with more composure than they had +anticipated. Harold, just before starting, drew her aside, and placed +the letter in her hand.</p> + +<p>"That will tell you all I would say, and you must read it when your +heart is strong and firm. Do not look so wretched. All may yet be well. +I would fain see you smile before I go."</p> + +<p>But though she had evidently nerved herself to be composed, the tears +would come, and her heart seemed rising to her throat and about to burst +in sobs.</p> + +<p>"I will be your true wife, Harold, and I will love you. Do not desert +me, do not cast me from you. I cannot bear to be so guilty. Indeed, +Harold, I will be true and faithful to you."</p> + +<p>"There is no guilt in that young heart," he answered, as he kissed her +forehead. "But now, we must not talk of love; hereafter, perhaps, when +time and absence shall teach us where to choose for happiness. Part from +me now as if I were your brother, and give me a sister's kiss. Would you +see Arthur?"</p> + +<p>She trembled and whispered painfully:</p> + +<p>"No, Harold, no—I dare not. Oh, Harold, bid him forget me."</p> + +<p>"It is better that you should not see him. Farewell! be brave. We are +good friends, remember. Farewell, dear girl."</p> + +<p>Beverly had been waiting with the carriage, and as the time was short, +he called to Harold. Arthur, who stood at the carriage wheel, simply +raised his hat to Oriana, as if in a parting salute. He would have given +his right hand to have pressed hers for a moment; but his will was iron, +and he did not once look back as the carriage whirled away.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_X"></a><h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>In the drawing-room of an elegant mansion in a fashionable quarter of +the city of New York, toward the close of April, a social party were +assembled, distributed mostly in small conversational groups. The head +of the establishment, a pompous, well-to-do merchant, stout, short, and +baldheaded, and evidently well satisfied with himself and his position +in society, was vehemently expressing his opinions upon the affairs of +the nation to an attentive audience of two or three elderly business +men, with a ponderous earnestness that proved him, in his own +estimation, as much <i>au fait</i> in political affairs as in the routine of +his counting-room. An individual of middle age, a man of the world, +apparently, who was seated at a side-table, carelessly glancing over a +book of engravings, was the only one who occasionally exasperated the +pompous gentleman with contradictions or ill-timed interruptions.</p> + +<p>"The government must be sustained," said the stout gentleman, "and we, +the merchants of the North, will do it. It is money, sir, money," he +continued, unconsciously rattling the coin in his breeches pocket, "that +settles every question at the present day, and our money will bring +these beggarly rebels to their senses. They can't do without us, sir. +They would be ruined in six months, if shut out from commercial +intercourse with the North."</p> + +<p>"How long before you would be ruined by the operations of the same +cause?" inquired the individual at the side-table.</p> + +<p>"Sir, we of the North hold the wealth of the country in our pockets. +They can't fight against our money—they can't do it, sir."</p> + +<p>"Your ancestors fought against money, and fought passably well."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, for the great principles of human liberty."</p> + +<p>"Which these rebels believe they are fighting for. You have need of all +your money to keep a respectable army in the field. These Southerners +may have to fight in rags, as insurgents generally do: witness the +struggle of your Revolution; but until you lay waste their corn-fields +and drive off their cattle, they will have full stomachs, and that, +after all, is the first consideration."</p> + +<p>"You are an alien, sir, a foreigner; you know nothing of our great +institutions; you know nothing of the wealth of the North, and the +spirit of the people."</p> + +<p>"I see a great deal of bunting in the streets, and hear any quantity of +declamation at your popular gatherings. But as I journeyed northward +from New Orleans, I saw the same in the South—perhaps more of it."</p> + +<p>"And could not distinguish between the frenzy of treason and the +enthusiasm of patriotism?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all; except that treason seemed more earnest and unanimous."</p> + +<p>"You have seen with the eyes of an Englishman—of one hostile to our +institutions."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; as a man of the world, a traveller, without prejudice or +passion, receiving impressions and noting them. I like your country; I +like your people. I have observed foibles in the North and in the South, +but there is an under-current of strong feeling and good sense which I +have noted and admired. I think your quarrel is one of foibles—one +conceived in the spirit of petulance, and about to be prosecuted in the +spirit of exaltation. I believe the professed mutual hatred of the +sections to be superficial, and that it could be cancelled. It is +fostered by the bitterness of fanatics, assisted by a very natural +disinclination on the part of the masses to yield a disputed point. If +hostilities should cease to-morrow, you would be better friends than +ever."</p> + +<p>"But the principle, sir! The right of the thing, and the wrong of the +thing! Can we parley with traitors? Can we negotiate with armed +rebellion? Is it not our paramount duty to set at rest forever the +doctrine of secession?"</p> + +<p>"As a matter of policy, perhaps. But as a right, I doubt it. Your +government I look upon as a mere agency appointed by contracting parties +to transact certain affairs for their convenience. Should one or more of +those contracting parties, sovereignties in themselves, hold it to their +interest to transact their business without the assistance of an agent, +I cannot perceive that the right can be denied by any provision of the +contract. In your case, the employers have dismissed their agent, who +seeks to reinstate the office by force of arms. As justly might my +lawyer, when I no longer need his services, attempt to coerce me into a +continuance of business relations, by invading my residence with a +loaded pistol. The States, without extinguishing their sovereignty, +created the Federal Government; it is the child of State legislation, +and now the child seeks to chastise and control the parent. The General +Government can possess no inherent or self-created function; its power, +its very existence, were granted for certain uses. As regards your +State's connection with that Government, no other State has the right to +interfere; but as for another State's connection with it, the power that +made it can unmake."</p> + +<p>"So you would have the government quietly acquiesce in the robbery of +public property, the occupation of Federal strongholds and the seizure +of ships and revenues in which they have but a share?"</p> + +<p>"If, by the necessity of the case, the seceded States hold in their +possession more than their share of public property, a division should +be made by arbitration, as in other cases where a distribution of common +property is required. It may have been a wrong and an insult to bombard +Fort Sumter and haul down the Federal flag, but that does not establish +a right on the part of the Federal Government to coerce the wrong-doing +States into a union with the others. And that, I take it, is the avowed +purpose of your administration."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and that purpose will be fulfilled. We have the money to do it, +and we will do it, sir."</p> + +<p>A tall, thin gentleman, with a white cravat and a bilious complexion, +approached the party from a different part of the room.</p> + +<p>"It can't be done with money, Mr. Pursely," said the new comer, "Unless +the great, the divine principle of universal human liberty is invoked. +An offended but merciful Providence has given the people this chance for +redemption, in the opportunity to strike the shackle from the slave. I +hold the war a blessing to the nation and to humanity, in that it will +cleanse the land from its curse of slavery. It is an invitation from God +to wipe away the record of our past tardiness and tolerance, by striking +at the great sin with fire and sword. The blood of millions is +nothing—the woe, the lamentation, the ruin of the land is nothing—the +overthrow of the Union itself is nothing, if we can but win God's smile +by setting a brand in the hand of the bondman to scourge his master. But +assuredly unless we arouse the slave to seize the torch and the dagger, +and avenge the wrongs of his race, Providence will frown upon our +efforts, and our arms will not prevail."</p> + +<p>A tall man in military undress replied with considerable emphasis:</p> + +<p>"Then your black-coated gentry must fight their own battle. The people +will not arm if abolition is to be the watchword. I for one will not +strike a blow if it be not understood that the institutions of the South +shall be respected."</p> + +<p>"The government must be sustained, that is the point," cried Mr. +Pursely. "It matters little what becomes of the negro, but the +government must be sustained. Otherwise, what security will there be +for property, and what will become of trade?"</p> + +<p>"Who thinks of trade or property at such a crisis?" interrupted an +enthusiast, in figured trowsers and a gay cravat. "Our beloved Union +must and shall be preserved. The fabric that our fathers reared for us +must not be allowed to crumble. We will prop it with our mangled +bodies," and he brushed a speck of dust from the fine broadcloth of his +sleeve.</p> + +<p>"The insult to our flag must be wiped out," said the military gentleman. +"The honor of the glorious stripes and stars must be vindicated to the +world."</p> + +<p>"Let us chastise these boasting Southrons," said another, "and prove our +supremacy in arms, and I shall be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"But above all," insisted a third, "we must check the sneers and +exultation of European powers, and show them that we have not forgotten +the art of war since the days of 1776 and 1812."</p> + +<p>"I should like to know what you are going to fight about," said the +Englishman, quietly; "for there appears to be much diversity of +opinion. However, if you are determined to cut each others' throats, +perhaps one pretext is as good as another, and a dozen better than only +one."</p> + +<p>In the quiet recess of a window, shadowed by the crimson curtains, sat a +fair young girl, and a man, young and handsome, but upon whose +countenance the traces of dissipation and of passion were deeply marked. +Miranda Ayleff was a Virginian, the cousin and quondam playmate of +Oriana Weems, like her an orphan, and a ward of Beverly. Her companion +was Philip Searle. She had known him in Richmond, and had become much +attached to him, but his habits and character were such, that her +friends, and Beverly chiefly, had earnestly discouraged their intimacy. +Philip left for the North, and Miranda, who at the date of our story was +the guest of Mrs. Pursely, her relative, met him in New York, after a +separation of two years. Philip, who, in spite of his evil ways, was +singularly handsome and agreeable in manners, found little difficulty in +fanning the old flame, and, upon the plea of old acquaintance, became a +frequent visitor upon Miranda at Mr. Pursely's mansion, where we now +find them, earnestly conversing, but in low tones, in the little +solitude of the great bay window.</p> + +<p>"You reproach me with vices which your unkindness has helped to stain me +with. Driven from your presence, whom alone I cared to live for, what +marvel if I sought oblivion in the wine-cup and the dice-box? Give me +one chance, Miranda, to redeem myself. Let me call you wife, and you +will become my guardian angel, and save me from myself."</p> + +<p>"You know that I love you, Philip," she replied, "and willingly would I +share your destiny, hoping to win you from evil. Go with me to Richmond. +We will speak with Beverly, who is kind and truly loves me. We will +convince him of your good purposes, and will win his consent to our +union."</p> + +<p>"No, Miranda; Beverly and your friends in Richmond will never believe me +worthy of you. Besides, it would be dangerous for me to visit Richmond. +I have identified myself with the Northern cause, and although, for your +sake, I might refrain from bearing arms against Virginia, yet I have +little sympathy with any there, where I have been branded as a drunkard +and a gambler."</p> + +<p>"Yet, Philip, is it not the land of your birth—the home of your +boyhood?"</p> + +<p>"The land of my shame and humiliation. No Miranda, I will not return to +Virginia. And if you love me, you will not return. What are these +senseless quarrels to us? We can be happy in each other's love, and +forget that madmen are at war around us. Why will you not trust me, +Miranda—why do you thus withhold from me my only hope of redemption +from the terrible vice that is killing me? I put my destiny, my very +life in your keeping, and you hesitate to accept the trust that alone +can save me. Oh, Miranda! you do not love me."</p> + +<p>"Philip, I cannot renounce my friends, my dear country, the home of my +childhood."</p> + +<p>"Then look you what will be my fate: I will join the armies of the +North, and fling away my life in battle against my native soil. Ruin and +death cannot come too soon when you forsake me."</p> + +<p>Miranda remained silent, but, through the gloom of the recess, he could +see the glistening of a tear upon her cheek.</p> + +<p>The hall-bell rang, and the servant brought in a card for Miss Ayleff. +Following it, Arthur Wayne was ushered into the room.</p> + +<p>She rose to receive him, somewhat surprised at a visit from a stranger.</p> + +<p>"I have brought these letters for you from my good friend Beverly +Weems," said Arthur. "At his request, I have ventured to call in person, +most happy, if you will forgive the presumption, in the opportunity."</p> + +<p>She gave her hand, and welcomed him gracefully and warmly, and, having +introduced Mr. Searle, excused herself while she glanced at the contents +of Beverly's letter. While thus employed, Arthur marked her changing +color; and then, lifting his eyes lest his scrutiny might be rude, +observed Philip's dark eye fixed upon her with a suspicious and +searching expression. Then Philip looked up, and their glances met—the +calm blue eye and the flashing black—but for an instant, but long +enough to confirm the instinctive feeling that there was no sympathy +between their hearts.</p> + +<p>A half-hour's general conversation ensued, but Philip appeared restless +and uneasy, and rose to take his leave. She followed him to the parlor +door.</p> + +<p>"Come to me to-morrow," she said, as she gave her hand, "and we will +talk again."</p> + +<p>A smile of triumph rested upon his pale lips for a second; but he +pressed her hand, and, murmuring an affectionate farewell, withdrew.</p> + +<p>Arthur remained a few moments, but observing that Miranda was pensive +and absent, he bade her good evening, accepting her urgent invitation to +call at an early period.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Well, Arthur," said Harold Hare, entering the room of the former at his +hotel, on the following evening, "I have come to bid you good bye. I +start for home to-morrow morning," he added, in reply to Arthur's +questioning glance. "I am to have a company of Providence boys in my old +friend Colonel R——'s regiment. And after a little brisk recruiting, +ho! for Washington and the wars!"</p> + +<p>"You have determined for the war, then?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. And you?"</p> + +<p>"I shall go to my Vermont farm, and live quietly among my books and +pastures."</p> + +<p>"A dull life, Arthur, when every wind that blows will bring to your ears +the swell of martial music and the din of arms."</p> + +<p>"If I were in love with the pomp of war, which, thank heaven, I am not, +Harold, I would rather dwell in a hermit's cave, than follow the fife +and drum over the bodies of my Southern countrymen."</p> + +<p>"Those Southern countrymen, that you seem to love better than the +country they would ruin, would have little remorse in marching over your +body, even among the ashes of your farm-house. Doubtless you would stand +at your threshold, and welcome their butchery, should their ruffian +legions ravage our land as far as your Green Mountains."</p> + +<p>"I do not think they will invade one foot of Northern soil, unless +compelled by strict military necessity. However, should the State to +which I owe allegiance be attacked by foreign or domestic foe, I will +stand among its defenders. But, dear Harold, let us not argue this sad +subject, which it is grief enough but to contemplate. Tell me of your +plans, and how I shall communicate with you, while you are absent. My +distress about this unhappy war will be keener, when I feel that my dear +friend may be its victim."</p> + +<p>Harold pressed his hand affectionately, and the two friends spoke of the +misty future, till Harold arose to depart. They had not mentioned +Oriana's name, though she was in their thoughts, and each, as he bade +farewell, knew that some part of the other's sadness was for her sake.</p> + +<p>Arthur accompanied Harold a short distance up Broadway, and returning, +found at the office of the hotel, a letter, without post-mark, to his +address. He stepped into the reading-room to peruse it. It was from +Beverly, and ran thus:</p> + +<div class="blkquot"><p>"RICHMOND, <i>May</i> —, 1861. + +<p> "DEAR ARTHUR: The departure of a friend gives me an opportunity to + write you about a matter that I beg you will attend to, for my sake, + thoroughly. I learned this morning, upon receipt of a letter from + Mr. Pursely, that Miranda Ayleff, of whom we spoke together, and to + whom I presume you have already delivered my communication, is + receiving the visits of one Philip Searle, to whom, some two years + since, she was much attached. <i>Entre nous</i>, Arthur, I can tell you, + the man is a scoundrel of the deepest dye. Not only a drunkard and a + gambler, but dishonest, and unfit for any decent girl's society. He + is guilty of forgery against me, and, against my conscience, I + hushed the matter only out of consideration for her feelings. I + would still have concealed the matter from her, had this resumption + of their intimacy not occurred. But her welfare must cancel all + scruples of that character; and I therefore entreat you to see her + at once, and unmask the man fully and unequivocally. If necessary + you may show my letter for that purpose. I would go on to New York + myself immediately, were I not employed upon a State mission of + exceeding delicacy and importance; but I have full confidence in + your good judgment. Spare no arguments to induce her to return + immediately to Richmond.</p> + +<p> "Oriana has not been well; I know not what ails her, but, though she + makes no complaint, the girl seems really ill. She knows not of my + writing, for I would not pain her about Miranda, of whom she is very + fond. But I can venture, without consulting her, to send you her + good wishes. Let me hear from you in full about what I have written. + Your friend.</p> + +<p> "BEVERLY WEEMS."</p> + +<p> "P.S.—Knowing that you must yet be weak with your late illness, I + would have troubled Harold, rather than you, about this matter, but + I am ignorant of his present whereabouts, while I know that you + contemplated remaining a week or so in New York. Write me about the + ugly bite in the shoulder, from which I trust you are well + recovered. B.W."</p></div> + +<p>Arthur looked up from the letter, and beheld Philip Searle seated at the +opposite side of the table. He had entered while Arthur's attention was +absorbed in reading, and having glanced at the address of the envelope +which lay upon the table, he recognized the hand of Beverly. This +prompted him to pause, and taking up one of the newspapers which were +strewn about the table, he sat down, and while he appeared to read, +glanced furtively at his <i>vis-à-vis</i> over the paper's edge. When his +presence was noticed, he bowed, and Arthur, with a slight and stern +inclination of the head, fixed his calm eye upon him with a searching +severity that brought a flush of anger to Philip's brow.</p> + +<p>"That is Weems' hand," he muttered, inwardly, "and by that fellow's +look, I fancy that no less a person than myself is the subject of his +epistle."</p> + +<p>Arthur had walked away, but, in his surprise at the unexpected presence +of Searle, he had allowed the letter to remain upon the table. No sooner +had he passed out of the room, than Philip quietly but rapidly stretched +his hand beneath the pile of scattered journals, and drew it toward him. +It required but an instant for his quick eye to catch the substance. His +face grew livid, and his teeth grated harshly with suppressed rage.</p> + +<p>"We shall have a game of plot and counterplot before this ends, my +man," he muttered.</p> + +<p>There were pen and paper on the table, and he wrote a few lines hastily, +placed them in the envelope, and put Beverly's letter in his pocket. He +had hardly finished when Arthur reëntered the room, advanced rapidly to +the table, and, with a look of relief, took up the envelope and its +contents, and again left the room. Philip's lip curled beneath the black +moustache with a smile of triumphant malice.</p> + +<p>"Keep it safe in your pocket for a few hours, my gamecock, and my +heiress to a beggar-girl, I'll have stone walls between you and me."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<p>The evening was somewhat advanced, but Arthur determined at once to seek +an interview with Miss Ayleff. Hastily arranging his toilet, he walked +briskly up Broadway, revolving in his mind a fit course for fulfilling +his delicate errand.</p> + +<p>To shorten his way, he turned into a cross street in the upper part of +the city. As he approached the hall door of a large brick house, his eye +chanced to fall upon a man who was ringing for admittance. The light +from the street lamp fell full upon his face, and he recognized the +features of Philip Searle. At that moment the door was opened, and +Philip entered. Arthur would have passed on, but something in the +appearance of the house arrested his attention, and, on closer scrutiny, +revealed to him its character. One of those impulses which sometimes +sway our actions, tempted him to enter, and learn, if possible, +something further respecting the habits of the man whose scheme he had +been commissioned to thwart. A moment's reflection might have changed +his purpose, but his hand was already upon the bell, and the summons was +quickly answered by a good-looking but faded young woman, with painted +cheeks and gay attire. She fixed her keen, bold eyes upon him for a few +seconds, and then, tossing her ringlets, pertly invited him to enter.</p> + +<p>"Who is within?" asked Arthur, standing in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Only the girls. Walk in."</p> + +<p>"The gentleman who came in before me, is he there?"</p> + +<p>"Do you want to see him?" she asked, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Only I would avoid being seen by any one."</p> + +<p>"He will not see you. Come right in." And she threw open the door, and +flaunted in.</p> + +<p>Arthur followed her without hesitation.</p> + +<p>Bursts of forced and cheerless laughter, and the shrill sound of rude +and flippant talk, smote unpleasantly upon his ear. The room was richly +furnished, but without taste or modesty. The tall mirrors were displayed +with ostentation, and the paintings, offensive in design, hung +conspicuous in showy frames. The numerous gas jets, flashing among +glittering crystal pendants, made vice more glaring and heartlessness +more terribly apparent. Women, with bold and haggard eyes, with brazen +brows, and cheeks from which the roses of virgin shame had been plucked +to bloom no more forever—mostly young girls, scourging their youth into +old age, and gathering poison at once for soul and body—with sensual +indolence reclined upon the rich ottomans, or with fantastic grace +whirled through lewd waltzes over the velvet carpets. There was laughter +without joy—there was frivolity without merriment—there was the +surface of enjoyment and the substance of woe, for beneath those painted +cheeks was the pallor of despair and broken health, and beneath those +whitened bosoms, half veiled with gaudy silks, were hearts that were +aching with remorse, or, yet more unhappy, benumbed and callous with +habitual sin.</p> + +<p>Yet there, like a crushed pearl upon a heap of garbage, lingers the +trace of beauty; and there, surely, though sepulchred in the caverns of +vice, dwells something that was once innocence, and not unredeemable. +But whence is the friendly word to come, whence the guardian hand that +might lift them from the slough. They live accursed by even charity, +shunned by philanthropy, and shut from the Christian world like a tribe +of lepers whose touch is contagion and whose breath is pestilence. In +the glittering halls of fashion, the high-born beauty, with wreaths +about her white temples and diamonds upon her chaste bosom, gives her +gloved hand for the dance, and forgets that an erring sister, by the +touch of those white fingers, might be raised from the grave of her +chastity, and clothed anew with the white garments of repentance. But +no; the cold world of fashion, that from its cushioned pew has listened +with stately devotion to the words of the Redeemer, has taught her that +to redeem the fallen is beneath her caste. The bond of sisterhood is +broken. The lost one must pursue her hideous destiny, each avenue of +escape blocked by the scorn and loathing which denies her the contact of +virtue and the counsel of purity. In the broad fields of charity, +invaded by cold philosophers, losing themselves in searching unreal and +vague philanthropies, none so practical in beneficence as to take her by +the hand, saying, "Go, and sin no more."</p> + +<p>But whenever the path of benevolence is intricate and doubtful, whenever +the work is linked with a riddle whose solving will breed discord and +trouble among men, whenever there is a chance to make philanthropy a +plea for hate, and bitterness and charity can be made a battle-cry to +arouse the spirit of destruction, and spread ruin and desolation over +the fair face of the earth, then will the domes of our churches resound +with eloquence, then will the journals of the land teem with their +mystic theories, then will the mourners of human woe be loud in +lamentation, and lift up their mighty voices to cry down an abstract +evil. When actual misery appeals to them, they are deaf; when the plain +and palpable error stalks before them, they turn aside. They are too +busy with the tangles of some philanthropic Gordian knot, to stretch out +a helping hand to the sufferer at their sides. They are frenzied with +their zeal to build a bridge over a spanless ocean, while the drowning +wretch is sinking within their grasp. They scorn the simple charity of +the good Samaritan; theirs must be a gigantic and splendid achievement +in experimental beneficence, worthy of their philosophic brains. The +wrong they would redress must be one that half the world esteems a +right; else there would be no room for their arguments, no occasion for +their invective, no excuse for their passion. To do good is too simple +for their transcendentalism; they must first make evil out of their +logic, and then, through blood and wasting flames, drive on the people +to destruction, that the imaginary evil may be destroyed. While Charity +soars so high among the clouds, she will never stoop to lift the +Magdalen from sin.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Arthur heaved an involuntary sigh, as he gazed upon those sad wrecks of +womanhood, striving to harden their sense of degradation by its impudent +display. But an expression of bewildered and sorrowful surprise suddenly +overspread his countenance. Seated alone upon a cushioned stool, at the +chimney-corner, was a young woman, her elbows resting upon her knees, +and her face bent thoughtfully upon her palms. She was apparently lost +in thought to all around her. She was thinking—of what? Perhaps of the +green fields where she played in childhood; perhaps of her days of +innocence; perhaps of the mother at whose feet she had once knelt in +prayer. But she was far away, in thought, from that scene of infamy of +which she was a part; for, in the glare of the gaslight, a tear +struggled through her eyelashes, and glittered like a ray from heaven +piercing the glooms of hell.</p> + +<p>Arthur walked to her, and placed his hand softly upon her yellow hair.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mary!" he murmured, in a tone of gentle sorrow, that sounded +strangely amid the discordant merriment that filled the room.</p> + +<p>She looked up, at his touch, but when his voice fell upon her ear, she +arose suddenly and stood before him like one struck dumb betwixt +humiliation and wonder. The angel had not yet fled that bosom, for the +blush of shame glowed through the chalk upon her brow and outcrimsoned +the paint upon her cheek. As it passed away, she would have wreathed her +lip mechanically with the pert smile of her vocation, but the smile was +frozen ere it reached her lips, and the coarse words she would have +spoken died into a murmur and a sob. She sank down again upon the +cushion, and bent her face low down upon her hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mary! is it you! is it you! I pray heaven your mother be in her +grave!"</p> + +<p>She rose and escaped quickly from the room; but he followed her and +checked her at the stairway.</p> + +<p>"Let me speak with you, Mary. No, not here; lead me to your room."</p> + +<p>He followed her up-stairs, and closing the door, sat beside her as she +leaned upon the bed and buried her face in the pillow.</p> + +<p>It was the child of his old nurse. Upon the hill-sides of his native +State they had played together when children, and now she lay there +before him, with scarce enough of woman's nature left to weep for her +own misery.</p> + +<p>"Mary, how is this? Look up, child," he said, taking her hand kindly. "I +had rather see you thus, bent low with sorrow, than bold and hard in +guilt. But yet look up and speak to me. I will be your friend, you know. +Tell me, why are you thus?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wayne, do not scold me, please don't. I was thinking of home +and mother when you came and put your hand on my head. Mother's dead."</p> + +<p>"Well for her, poor woman. But how came you thus?"</p> + +<p>"I scarcely seem to know. It seems to me a dream. I married John, and he +brought me to New York. Then the war came, and he went and was killed. +And mother was dead, and I had no friends in the great city. I could get +no work, and I was starving, indeed I was, Mr. Wayne. So a young man, +who was very handsome, and rich, I think, for he gave me money and fine +dresses, he promised me—Oh, Mr. Wayne, I was very wrong and foolish, +and I wish I could die, and be buried by my poor mother."</p> + +<p>"And did he bring you here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, sir. I came here two weeks ago, after he had left me. And when +he came in one night and found me here, he was very angry, and said he +would kill me if I told any one that I knew him. And I know why; but you +won't tell, Mr. Wayne, for it would make him angry. I have found out +that he is married to the mistress of this house. He's a bad man, I know +now, and often comes here drunk, and swears at the woman and the girls. +Hark! that's her room, next to mine, and I think he's in there now."</p> + +<p>The faint sound of voices, smothered by the walls, reached them from the +adjoining chamber; but as they listened, the door of that room opened, +and the loud and angry tones of a man, speaking at the threshold, could +be distinctly heard. Arthur quietly and carefully opened the door of +Mary's room, an inch or less, and listened at the aperture. He was not +mistaken; he recognized the voice of Philip Searle.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it, anyhow," said Philip, angrily, and with the thick utterance +of one who had been drinking. "I'll do it; and if you trouble me, I'll +fix you."</p> + +<p>"Philip, if you marry that girl I'll peach; I will, so help me G—d," +replied a woman's voice. "I've given you the money, and I've given you +plenty before, as much as I had to give you, Philip, and you know it. I +don't mind that, but you shan't marry till I'm dead. I'm your lawful +wife, and if I'm low now, it's your fault, for you drove me to it."</p> + +<p>"I'll drive you to hell if you worry me. I tell you she's got lots of +money, and a farm, and niggers, and you shall have half if you only keep +your mouth shut. Come, now, Molly, don't be a fool; what's the use, +now?"</p> + +<p>They went down the stairway together, and their voices were lost as they +descended. Arthur determined to follow and get some clue, if possible, +as to the man's, intentions. He therefore gave his address to Mary, and +made her promise faithfully to meet him on the following morning, +promising to befriend her and send her to his mother in Vermont. Hearing +the front door close, and surmising that Philip had departed, he bade +her good night, and descending hastily, was upon the sidewalk in time to +observe Philip's form in the starlight as he turned the corner.</p> + +<p>It was now ten o'clock; too late to call upon Miranda without disturbing +the household, which he desired to avoid. Arthur's present fear was that +possibly an elopement had been planned for that night, and he therefore +determined, if practicable, to keep Searle in view till he had traced +him home. The latter entered a refreshment saloon upon Broadway; Arthur +followed, and ordering, in a low tone, some dish that would require time +in the preparation, he stepped, without noise, into an alcove adjoining +one whence came the sound of conversation.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's up?" inquired a gruff, coarse voice.</p> + +<p>"Fill me some brandy," replied Philip. "I tell you, Bradshaw, it's +risky, but I'll do it. The old woman's rock. She'll blow upon me if she +gets the chance; but I'm in for it, and I'll put it through. We must +manage to keep it mum from her, and as soon as I get the girl I'll +accept the lieutenancy, and be off to the wars till all blows over. If +Moll should smoke me out there, I'll cross the line and take sanctuary +with Jeff. Davis."</p> + +<p>"What about the girl?"</p> + +<p>"Oh; she's all right," replied Philip, with a drunken chuckle. "I had an +interview with the dear creature this morning, and she's like wax in my +hands. It's all arranged for to-morrow morning. You be sure to have the +carriage ready at the Park—the same spot, you know—by ten o'clock. +She can't well get away before, but that will be time enough for the +train."</p> + +<p>"I want that money now."</p> + +<p>"Moll's hard up, but I got a couple of hundred from her. Here's fifty +for you; now don't grumble, I'm doing the best I can, d—n you, and you +know it. Now listen—I want to fix things with you about that blue-eyed +chap."</p> + +<p>The waiter here brought in Arthur's order, and a sudden silence ensued +in the alcove. The two men had evidently been unaware of the proximity +of a third party, and their tone, though low, had not been sufficiently +guarded to escape Arthur hearing, whose ear, leaning against the thin +partition, was within a few inches of Philip's head. A muttered curse +and the gurgling of liquor from a decanter was all that could be heard +for the space of a few-moments, when the two, after a brief whisper, +arose and left the place, not, however, without making ineffectual +efforts to catch a glimpse of the occupant of the tenanted alcove. +Arthur soon after followed them into the street. He was aware that he +was watched from the opposite corner, and that his steps were dogged in +the darkness. But he drew his felt hat well over his face, and by +mingling with the crowd that chanced to be pouring from one of the +theatres, he avoided recognition and passed unnoticed into his hotel.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Arthur felt ill and much fatigued when he retired to rest, and was +restless and disturbed with fever throughout the night. He had +overtasked his delicate frame, yet scarce recovered from the effects of +recent suffering, and he arose in the morning with a feeling of +prostration that he could with difficulty overcome. However, he +refreshed himself with a cup of tea, and prepared to call upon Miss +Ayleff. It was but seven o'clock, a somewhat early hour for a morning +visit, but the occasion was one for little ceremony. As he was on the +point of leaving his room, there was a peremptory knock at the door, +and, upon his invitation to walk in, a stranger entered. It was a +gentlemanly personage, with a searching eye and a calm and quiet manner. +Arthur was vexed to be delayed, but received the intruder with a civil +inclination of the head, somewhat surprised, however, that no card had +been sent to give him intimation of the visit.</p> + +<p>"Are you Mr. Arthur Wayne?" inquired the stranger.</p> + +<p>"I am he," replied Arthur. "Be seated, sir."</p> + +<p>"I thank you. My name is ——. I am a deputy United States marshal of +this district."</p> + +<p>Arthur bowed, and awaited a further statement of the purpose of his +visit.</p> + +<p>"You have lately arrived from Virginia, I understand?"</p> + +<p>"A few days since, sir—from a brief sojourn in the vicinity of +Richmond."</p> + +<p>"And yesterday received a communication from that quarter?"</p> + +<p>"I did. A letter from an intimate acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"My office will excuse me from an imputation of inquisitiveness. May I +see that letter?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, sir. Its contents are of a private and delicate nature, and +intended only for my own perusal."</p> + +<p>"It is because its contents are of that nature that I am constrained to +ask you for it. Pardon me, Mr. Wayne; but to be brief and frank you, I +must either receive that communication by your good will, or call in my +officers, and institute a search. I am sure you will not make my duty +more unpleasant than necessary."</p> + +<p>Arthur paused awhile. He was conscious that it would be impossible for +him to avoid complying with the marshal's request, and yet it was most +annoying to be obliged to make a third party cognizant of the facts +contained in Beverly's epistle.</p> + +<p>"I have no desire to oppose you in the performance of your functions," +he finally replied, "but really there are very particular reasons why +the contents of this letter should not be made public."</p> + +<p>A very faint indication of a smile passed over the marshal's serious +face; Arthur did not observe it, but continued:</p> + +<p>"I will hand you the letter, for I perceive there has been some mistake +and misapprehension which of course it is your duty to clear up. But you +must promise me that, when your perusal of it shall have satisfied you +that its nature is strictly private, and not offensive to the law, you +will return it me and preserve an inviolable secrecy as to its +contents."</p> + +<p>"When I shall be satisfied on that score, I will do as you desire."</p> + +<p>Arthur handed him the letter, somewhat to the other's surprise, for he +had certainly been watching for an attempt at its destruction, or at +least was prepared for prevarication and stratagem. He took the paper +from its envelope and read it carefully. It was in the following words:</p> + +<div class="blkquot"><p>Richmond, <i>May</i> —, 1861. + +<p> Dear Arthur: This will be handed to you by a sure hand. Communicate + freely with the bearer—he can be trusted. The arms can be safely + shipped as he represents, and you will therefore send them on at + once. Your last communication was of great service to the cause, + and, although I would be glad to have you with us, the President + thinks you are too valuable, for the present, where you are. When + you come, the commission will be ready for you. Yours truly,</p> + +<p> Beverly Weems, Capt. C.S.A.</p></div> + +<p>"Are you satisfied?" inquired Arthur, after the marshal had silently +concluded his examination of the document.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly satisfied," replied the other, placing the letter in his +pocket. "Mr. Wayne, it is my duty to arrest you."</p> + +<p>"Arrest me!"</p> + +<p>"In the name of the United States."</p> + +<p>"For what offence?"</p> + +<p>"Treason."</p> + +<p>Arthur remained for a while silent with astonishment. At last, as the +marshal arose and took his hat, he said:</p> + +<p>"I cannot conceive what act or word of mine can be construed as +treasonable. There is some mistake, surely; I am a quiet man, a stranger +in the city, and have conversed with but one or two persons since my +arrival. Explain to me, if you please, the particular nature of the +charge against me."</p> + +<p>"It is not my province, at this moment, to do so, Mr. Wayne. It is +sufficient that, upon information lodged with me last evening, and +forwarded to Washington by telegraph, I received from the Secretary of +War orders for your immediate arrest, should I find the information +true. I have found it true, and I arrest you."</p> + +<p>"Surely, nothing in that letter can be so misconstrued as to implicate +me."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wayne, this prevarication is as useless as it is unseemly. You +<i>know</i> that the letter is sufficient warrant for my proceeding. My +carriage is at the door. I trust you will accompany me without further +delay."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I was about to proceed, when you entered, upon an errand that +involves the safety and happiness of the young lady mentioned in that +letter. The letter itself will inform you of the circumstance, and I +assure you, events are in progress that require my immediate action. You +will at least allow me to visit the party?"</p> + +<p>The marshal looked at him with surprise.</p> + +<p>"What party?"</p> + +<p>"The lady of whom my friend makes mention."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you. I can only conceive that, for some purpose of +your own, you are anxious to gain time. I must request you to accompany +me at once to the carriage."</p> + +<p>"You will permit me at least to send a, letter—a word—a warning?"</p> + +<p>"That your accomplice may receive information? Assuredly not."</p> + +<p>"Be yourself the messenger—or send"——</p> + +<p>"This subterfuge is idle." He opened the door and stood beside it. "I +must request your company to the carriage."</p> + +<p>Arthur's cheek flushed for a moment with anger.</p> + +<p>"This severity," he said, "is ridiculous and unjust. I tell you, you and +those for whom you act will be accountable for a great crime—for +innocence betrayed—for a young life made desolate—for perhaps a +dishonored grave. I plead not for myself, but for one helpless and pure, +who at this hour may be the victim of a villain's plot. In the name of +humanity, I entreat you give me but time to avert the calamity, and I +will follow you without remonstrance. Go with me yourself. Be present at +the interview. Of what consequence to you will be an hour's delay?"</p> + +<p>"It may be of much consequence to those who are in league with you. I +cannot grant your request. You must come with me, sir, or I shall be +obliged to call for assistance," and he drew a pair of handcuffs from +his pocket.</p> + +<p>Arthur perceived that further argument or entreaty would be of no avail. +He was much agitated and distressed beyond measure at the possible +misfortune to Miranda, which, by this untimely arrest, he was powerless +to avert. Knowing nothing of the true contents of the letter which +Philip had substituted for the one received from Beverly, he could not +imagine an excuse for the marshal's inflexibility. He was quite ill, +too, and what with fever and agitation, his brain was in a whirl. He +leaned against the chair, faint and dispirited. The painful cough, the +harbinger of that fatal malady which had already brought a sister to an +early grave, oppressed him, and the hectic glowed upon his pale cheeks. +The marshal approached him, and laid his hand gently on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You seem ill," he said; "I am sorry to be harsh with you, but I must do +my duty. They will make you as comfortable as possible at the fort. But +you must come."</p> + +<p>Arthur followed him mechanically, and like one in a dream. They stepped +into the carriage and were driven rapidly away; but Arthur, as he +leaned back exhausted in his seat, murmured sorrowfully:</p> + +<p>"And poor little Mary, too! Who will befriend her now?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>In the upper apartment of a cottage standing alone by the roadside on +the outskirts of Boston, Miranda, pale and dejected, sat gazing vacantly +at the light of the solitary lamp that lit the room. The clock was +striking midnight, and the driving rain beat dismally against the +window-blinds. But one month had passed since her elopement with Philip +Searle, yet her wan cheeks and altered aspect revealed how much of +suffering can be crowded into that little space of time. She started +from her revery when the striking of the timepiece told the lateness of +the hour. Heavy footsteps sounded upon the stairway, and, while she +listened, Philip, followed by Bradshaw, entered the room abruptly.</p> + +<p>"How is this?" asked Philip, angrily. "Why are you not in bed?"</p> + +<p>"I did not know it was so late, Philip," she answered, in a deprecating +tone. "I was half asleep upon the rocking-chair, listening to the +storm. It's a bad night, Philip. How wet you are!"</p> + +<p>He brushed off the hand she had laid upon his shoulder, and muttered, +with bad humor:</p> + +<p>"I've told you a dozen times I don't want you to sit up for me. Fetch +the brandy and glasses, and go to bed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Philip, it is so late! Don't drink: to-night, Philip. You are wet, +and you look tired. Come to bed."</p> + +<p>"Do as I tell you," he answered, roughly, flinging himself into a chair, +and beckoning Bradshaw to a seat. Miranda sighed, and brought the bottle +and glasses from the closet.</p> + +<p>"Now, you go to sleep, do you hear; and don't be whining and crying all +night, like a sick girl."</p> + +<p>The poor girl moved slowly to the door, and turned at the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Philip."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good night—there, get along," he cried, impatiently, without +looking at her, and gulping down a tumblerful of spirits. Miranda closed +the door and left the two men alone together.</p> + +<p>They remained silent for a while, Bradshaw quietly sipping his liquor, +and Philip evidently disturbed and angry.</p> + +<p>"You're sure 'twas she?" he asked at last.</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother!" replied Bradshaw. "I'm not a mole nor a blind man. Don't I +know Moll when I see her?"</p> + +<p>"Curse her! she'll stick to me like a leech. What could have brought her +here? Do you think she's tracked me?"</p> + +<p>"She'd track you through fire, if she once got on the scent. Moll ain't +the gal to be fooled, and you know it."</p> + +<p>"What's to be done?"</p> + +<p>"Move out of this. Take the girl to Virginia. You'll be safe enough +there."</p> + +<p>"You're right, Bradshaw. It's the best way. I ought to have done it at +first. But, hang the girl, she'll weary me to death with her sermons and +crying fits. Moll's worth two of her for that, matter—she scolds, but +at least she never would look like a stuck fawn when I came home a +little queer. For the matter of that, she don't mind a spree herself at +times." And, emptying his glass, the libertine laughed at the +remembrance of some past orgies.</p> + +<p>While he was thus, in his half-drunken mood, consoling himself for +present perplexities by dwelling upon the bacchanalian joys of other +days, a carriage drove up the street, and stopped before the door. Soon +afterward, the hall bell was rung, and Philip, alarmed and astonished, +started from his seat.</p> + +<p>"Who's that?" he asked, almost in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Don't know," replied his companion.</p> + +<p>"She couldn't have traced me here already—unless you have betrayed me, +Bradshaw," he added suddenly, darting a suspicious glance upon his +comrade.</p> + +<p>"You're just drunk enough to be a fool," replied Bradshaw, rising from +his seat, as a second summons, more violent than the first, echoed +through the corridors. "I'll go down and see what's the matter. Some +one's mistaken the house, I suppose. That's all."</p> + +<p>"Let no one in, Bradshaw," cried Philip, as that worthy left the room. +He descended the stairs, opened the door, and presently afterward the +carriage drove rapidly away. Philip, who had been listening earnestly, +could hear the sound of the wheels as they whirled over the pavement.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said, as he applied himself once more to the bottle +before him. "Some fool has mistaken his whereabouts. Curse me, but I'm +getting as nervous as an old woman."</p> + +<p>He was in the act of lifting the glass to his lips, when the door was +flung wide open. The glass fell from his hands, and shivered upon the +floor. Moll stood before him.</p> + +<p>She stood at the threshold with a wicked gleam in her eye, and a smile +of triumph upon her lips; then advanced into the room, closed the door +quietly, locked it, seated herself composedly in the nearest chair, and +filled herself a glass of spirits. Philip glared upon her with an +expression of mingled anger, fear and wonderment.</p> + +<p>"Are you a devil? Where in thunder did you spring from?" he asked at +last.</p> + +<p>"You'll make me a devil, with your tricks, Philip Searle," she said, +sipping the liquor, and looking at him wickedly over the rim of the +tumbler.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha!" she laughed aloud, as he muttered a curse between his +clenched teeth, "I'm not the country girl, Philip dear, that I was when +you whispered your sweet nonsense in my ear. I know your game, my bully +boy, and I'll play you card for card."</p> + +<p>"Bradshaw" shouted Philip, going to the door and striving to open it.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," she said, "I've got the key in my pocket. Sit down. I +want to talk to you. Don't be a fool."</p> + +<p>"Where's Bradshaw, Moll?"</p> + +<p>"At the depot by this time, I fancy, for the carriage went off at a +deuce of a rate."</p> + +<p>She laughed again, while he paced the room with angry strides.</p> + +<p>"'Twas he, then, that betrayed me. The villain! I'll have his life for +that, as I'm a sinner."</p> + +<p>"Your a great sinner; Philip Searle. Sit down, now, and be quiet. +Where's the girl?"</p> + +<p>"What girl?"</p> + +<p>"Miranda Ayleff. The girl you've ruined; the girl you've put in my +place, and that I've come to drive out of it. Where is she?"</p> + +<p>"Don't speak so loud, Moll. Be quiet, can't you? See here, Moll," he +continued, drawing a chair to her side, and speaking in his old winning +way—"see here, Moll: why can't you just let this matter stand as it is, +and take your share of the plunder? You know I don't care about the +girl; so what difference does it make to you, if we allow her to think +that she's my lawful wife? Come, give us a kiss, Moll, and let's hear no +more about it."</p> + +<p>"Honey won't catch such an old fly as I am, Philip," replied the woman, +but with a gentled tone. "Where is the girl?" she asked suddenly, +starting from the chair. "I want to see her. Is she in there?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Philip, quickly, and rising to her passage to the door of +Miranda's chamber. "She is not there, Moll; you can't see her. Are you +crazy? You'd frighten the poor girl out of her senses."</p> + +<p>"She's in there. I'm going in to speak with her. Yes I shall, Philip, +and you needn't stop me."</p> + +<p>"Keep back. Keep quiet, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"No. Don't hold me, Philip Searle. Keep your hands off me, if you know +what's good for you."</p> + +<p>She brushed past him, and laid her hand upon the door-knob; but he +seized her violently by the arm and pulled her back. The action hurt her +wrist, and she was boiling with rage in a second. With her clenched +fist, she struck him straight in the face repeatedly, while with every +blow, she screamed out an imprecation.</p> + +<p>"Keep quiet, you hag! Keep quiet, confound you!" said the infuriated +man. "Won't you? Take that!" and he planted his fist upon her mouth.</p> + +<p>The woman, through her tears and sobs, howled at him curse upon curse. +With one hand upon her throat, he essayed to choke her utterance, and +thus they scuffled about the room.</p> + +<p>"I'll cut you, Philip; I will, by ——"</p> + +<p>Her hand, in fact, was fumbling about her pocket, and she drew forth a +small knife and thrust it into his shoulder. They were near the table, +over which Philip had thrust her down. He was wild with rage and the +brandy he had drank. His right hand instinctively grasped the heavy +bottle that by chance it came in contact with. The next instant, it +descended full upon her forehead, and with a moan of fear and pain, she +fell like lead upon the floor, and lay bleeding and motionless.</p> + +<p>Philip, still grasping the shattered bottle, gazed aghast upon the +lifeless form. Then a cry of terror burst upon his ear. He turned, and +beheld Miranda, with dishevelled hair, pale as her night-clothes, +standing at the threshold of the open door. With a convulsive shudder, +she staggered into the room, and fainted at his feet, her white arm +stained with the blood that was sinking in little pools into the carpet.</p> + +<p>He stood there gazing from one to the other, but without seeking to +succor either. The fumes of brandy, and the sudden revulsion from active +wrath to apathy, seemed to stupefy his brain. At last he stooped beside +the outstretched form of Molly, and, with averted face, felt in her +pocket and drew out the key. Stealthily, as if he feared that they could +hear him, he moved toward the door, opened it, and passing through, +closed it gently, as one does who would not waken a sleeping child or +invalid. Rapidly, but with soft steps, he descended the stairs, and went +out into the darkness and the storm.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>When Miranda awakened from her swoon, the lamp was burning dimly, and +the first light of dawn came faintly through the blinds. All was still +around her, and for some moments she could not recall the terrible scene +which had passed before her eyes. Presently her fingers came in contact +with the clots of gore that were thickening on her garment, and she +arose quickly, and, with a shudder, tottered against the wall. Her eyes +fell upon Moll's white face, the brow mangled and bruised, and the +dishevelled hair soaking in the crimson tide that kept faintly oozing +from the cut. She was alone in the house with that terrible object; for +Philip, careless of her convenience, had only procured the services of a +girl from a neighboring farm-house, who attended to the household duties +during the day, and went home in the evening. But her womanly compassion +was stronger than her sense of horror, and kneeling by the side of the +prostrate woman, with inexpressible relief she perceived, by the slight +pulsation of the heart, that life was there. Entering her chamber, she +hastily put on a morning wrapper, and returning with towel and water, +raised Moll's head upon her lap, and washed the thick blood from her +face. The cooling moisture revived the wounded woman; her bosom swelled +with a deep sigh, and she opened her eyes and looked languidly around.</p> + +<p>"How do you feel now, madam?" asked Miranda, gently.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" said Moll, in reply, after a moment's pause.</p> + +<p>"Miranda—Miranda Searle, the wife of Philip," she added, trembling at +the remembrance of the woman's treatment at her husband's hands.</p> + +<p>Molly raised herself with an effort, and sat upon the floor, looking at +Miranda, while she laughed with a loud and hollow sound.</p> + +<p>"Philip's wife, eh? And you love him, don't you? Well, dreams can't last +forever."</p> + +<p>"Don't you feel strong enough to get up and lie upon the bed?" asked +Miranda, soothingly, for she was uncomfortable tinder the strange glare +that the woman fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>"I'm well enough," said Moll. "Where's Philip?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I do not know. I am very sorry, ma'am, that—that"—</p> + +<p>"Never mind. Give me a glass of water."</p> + +<p>Miranda hastened to comply, and Moll swallowed the water, and remained +silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Shan't I go for assistance?" asked Miranda, who was anxious to put an +end to this painful interview, and was also distressed about her +husband's absence. "There's no one except ourselves in the house, but I +can go to the farmer's house near by."</p> + +<p>"Not for the world," interrupted Moll, taking her by the arm. "I'm well +enough. Here, let me lean on you. That's it. I'll sit on the +rocking-chair. Thank you. Just bind my head up, will you? Is it an ugly +cut?" she asked, as Miranda, having procured some linen, carefully +bandaged the wounded part.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! It's very bad. Does it pain you much, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind. There, that will do. Now sit down there. Don't be afraid of +me. I ain't a-going to hurt you. It's only the cut that makes me look so +ugly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I am not at all afraid, ma'am," said Miranda, shuddering in +spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"You are a sweet-looking girl," said Moll, fixing her haggard, but yet +beautiful eyes upon the fragile form beside her. "It's a pity you must +be unhappy. Has that fellow been unkind to you?"</p> + +<p>"What fellow madam?"</p> + +<p>"Philip."</p> + +<p>"He is my husband, madam," replied Miranda, mildly, but with the +slightest accent of displeasure.</p> + +<p>"He is, eh? Hum! You love him dearly, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Miranda blushed, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you know my husband?"</p> + +<p>"Know him! If you knew him as well, it would be better for you. You'll +know him well enough before long. You come from Virginia, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You must go back there."</p> + +<p>"If Philip wishes it."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, you must go at once—to-day. I will give you money, if you +have none. And you must never speak of what has happened in this house. +Do you understand me?"</p> + +<p>"But Philip"—</p> + +<p>"Forget Philip. You must never see him any more. Why should you want to? +Don't you know that he's a brute, and will beat you as he beat me, if +you stay with him. Why should. you care about him?"</p> + +<p>"He is my husband, and you should not speak about him so to me," said +Miranda, struggling with her tears, and scarce knowing in what vein to +converse with the rude woman, whose strange language bewildered and +frightened her.</p> + +<p>"Bah!" said Moll, roughly. "You're a simpleton. There, don't cry, though +heaven knows you've cause enough, poor thing! Philip Searle's a villain. +I could send him to the State prison if I chose."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! don't say that; indeed, don't."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I could; but I will not, if you mind me, and do what I tell +you. I'm a bad creature, but I won't harm you, if I can help it. You +helped me when I was lying there, after that villain hurt me, and I +can't help liking you. And yet you've hurt me, too."</p> + +<p>"I!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Shall I tell you a story? Poor girl! you're wretched enough now, +but you'd better know the truth at once. Listen to me: I was an innocent +girl, like you, once. Not so beautiful, perhaps, and not so good; for I +was always proud and willful, and loved to have my own way. I was a +country girl, and had money left to me by my dead parents. A young man +made my acquaintance. He was gay and handsome, and made me believe that +he loved me. Well, I married him—do you hear? I married him—at the +church, with witnesses, and a minister to make me his true and lawful +wife. Curse him! I wish he had dropped down dead at the altar. There, +you needn't shudder; it would have been well for you if he had. I +married him, and then commenced my days of sorrow and—of guilt. He +squandered my money at the gambling-table, and I was sometimes in rags +and without food. He was drunk half the time, and abused me; but I was +even with him there, and gave him as good as he gave me. He taught me to +drink, and such a time as we sometimes made together would have made +Satan blush. I thought I was low enough; but he drove me lower yet. He +put temptation in my way—he did, curse his black heart! though he +denied it. I fell as low as woman can fall, and then I suppose you think +he left me? Well, he did, for a time; he went off somewhere, and perhaps +it was then he was trying to ruin some other girl, as foolish as I had +been. But he came back, and got money from me—the wages of my sin. And +all the while, he was as handsome, and could talk as softly as if he was +a saint. And with that smooth tongue and handsome face he won another +bride, and married her—married her, I tell you; and that's why I can +send him to the State prison."</p> + +<p>"Send him! Who? My God! what do you mean?" cried Miranda, rising slowly +from her chair, with clasped hands and ashen cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Philip Searle, my husband!" shouted Moll, rising also, and standing +with gleaming eyes before the trembling girl.</p> + +<p>Miranda sank slowly back into her seat, tearless, but shuddering as +with an ague fit. Only from her lips, with a moaning sound, a murmur +came:</p> + +<p>"No, no, no! oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"May God strike me dead this instant, if it is not true!" said Moll, +sadly; for she felt for the poor girl's, distress.</p> + +<p>Miranda rose, her hands pressed tightly against her heart, and moved +toward the door with tottering and uncertain steps, like one who +suffocates and seeks fresh air. Then her white lips were stained with +purple; a red stream gushed from her mouth and dyed the vestment on her +bosom; and ere Moll could reach her, she had sunk, with an agonizing +sob, upon the floor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The night after the unhappy circumstance we have related, in the +bar-room of a Broadway hotel, in New York city, a colonel of volunteers, +moustached and uniformed, and evidently in a very unmilitary condition +of unsteadiness, was entertaining a group of convivial acquaintances, +with bacchanalian exercises and martian gossip.</p> + +<p>He had already, with a month's experience at the seat of war, culled the +glories of unfought fields, and was therefore an object of admiration to +his civilian friends, and of envy to several unfledged heroes, whose +maiden swords had as yet only jingled on the pavement of Broadway, or +flashed in the gaslight of saloons. They were yet none the less +conscious of their own importance, these embryo Napoleons, but wore +their shoulder straps with a killing air, and had often, on a sunny +afternoon, stood the fire of bright eyes from innumerable promenading +batteries, with gallantry, to say the least.</p> + +<p>And now they stood, like Caesars, amid clouds of smoke, and wielded +their formidable goblets with the ease of veterans, though not always +with a soldierly precision. And why should they not? Their tailors had +made them heroes, every one; and they had never yet once led the van in +a retreat.</p> + +<p>"And how's Tim?" asked one of the black-coated hangers-on upon +prospective glory.</p> + +<p>"Tim's in hot water," answered the colonel, elevating his chin and elbow +with a gesture more suggestive of Bacchus than of Mars.</p> + +<p>"Hot brandy and water would be more like him," said the acknowledged wit +of the party, looking gravely at the sugar in his empty glass, as if +indifferent to the bursts of laughter which rewarded his appropriate +sally.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you about it," said the colonel. "Fill up, boys. Thompson, +take a fresh segar."</p> + +<p>Thompson took it, and the boys filled up, while the colonel flung down a +specimen of Uncle Sam's eagle with an emphasis that demonstrated what +he would do for the bird when opportunity offered.</p> + +<p>"You see, we had a party of Congressmen in camp, and were cracking some +champagne bottles in the adjutant's tent. We considered it a military +necessity to floor the legislators, you know; but one old senator was +tough as a siege-gun, and wouldn't even wink at his third bottle. So the +corks flew about like minié balls, but never a man but was too good a +soldier to cry 'hold, enough.' As for that old demijohn of a senator, it +seemed he couldn't hold enough, and wouldn't if he could; so we directed +the main battle against him, and opened a masked battery upon him, by +uncovering a bottle of Otard; but he never flinched. It was a game of +<i>Brag</i> all over, and every one kept ordering 'a little more grape.' +Presently, up slaps a mounted aid, galloping like mad, and in tumbles +the sleepy orderly for the officer of the day.</p> + +<p>"'That's you, Tim,' says I. But Tim was just then singing the Star +Spangled Banner in a convivial whisper to the tune of the Red, White, +and Blue, and wouldn't be disturbed on no account.</p> + +<p>"'Tumble out, Tim,' says I, 'or I'll have you court-martialled and +shot.'</p> + +<p>"'In the neck,' says Tim. But he did manage to tumble out, and finished +the last stanzas with a flourish, for the edification of the mounted +aid-de-camp.</p> + +<p>"'Where's the officer of the day?' asked the aid, looking suspiciously +at Tim's shaky knees.</p> + +<p>"'He stands before you,' replied Tim, steadying himself a little by +affectionately hanging on to the horse's tail.</p> + +<p>"'You sir? you're unfit for duty, and I'll report you, sir, at +headquarters,' said the aid, who was a West Pointer, you know, stiff as +a poker in regimentals.</p> + +<p>"'Sir!—hic,' replied Tim, with an attempt at offended dignity, the +effect of which was rather spoiled by the accompanying hiccough.</p> + +<p>"'Where's the colonel!' asked the aid.</p> + +<p>"'Drunk,' says that rascal, Tim, confidentially, with a knowing wink.</p> + +<p>"'Where's the adjutant?'</p> + +<p>"'Drunk.'</p> + +<p>"'Good God, sir, are you all drunk?'</p> + +<p>"''Cept the surgeon—he's got the measles.'</p> + +<p>"'Orderly, give this dispatch, to the first sober officer you can +find.'</p> + +<p>"'It's no use, captain,' says Tim, 'the regiment's drunk—'cept me, +hic!' and Tim lost his balance, and tumbled over the orderly, for you +see the captain put spurs to his horse rather suddenly, and whisked the +friendly tail out of his hands.</p> + +<p>"So we were all up before the general the next day, but swore ourselves +clear, all except Tim, who had the circumstantial evidence rather too +strong against him."</p> + +<p>"And such are the men in whom the country has placed its trust?" +muttered a grey-headed old gentleman, who, while apparently absorbed in +his newspaper, had been listening to the colonel's narrative.</p> + +<p>A young man who had lounged into the room approached the party and +caught the colonel's eye:</p> + +<p>"Ah! Searle, how are you? Come up and take a drink."</p> + +<p>A further requisition was made upon the bartender, and the company +indulged anew. Searle, although a little pale and nervous, was all life +and gaiety. His coming was a fresh brand on the convivial flame, and +the party, too much exhilarated to be content with pushing one vice to +excess, sallied forth in search of whatever other the great city might +afford. They had not to look far. Folly is at no fault in the metropolis +for food of whatever quality to feed upon; and they were soon +accommodated with excitement to their hearts content at a fashionable +gambling saloon on Broadway. The colonel played with recklessness and +daring that, if he carries it to the battle-field, will wreathe his brow +with laurels; but like many a rash soldier before him, he did not win. +On the contrary, his eagles took flight with a rapidity suggestive of +the old adage that "gold hath wings," and when, long after midnight, he +stood upon the deserted street alone with Philip Searle and his +reflections, he was a sadder and a soberer man.</p> + +<p>"Searle, I'm a ruined man."</p> + +<p>"You'll fight all the better for it," replied Philip, knocking the ashes +from his segar. "Come, you'll never mend the matter by taking cold here +in the night air; where do you put up? I'll see you home."</p> + +<p>"D—n you, you take it easy," said the colonel, bitterly. Philip could +afford to take it easy, for he had most of the colonel's money in his +pocket. In fact, the unhappy votary of Mars was more thoroughly ruined +than his companion was aware of, for when fortune was hitting him +hardest, he had not hesitated to bring into action a reserve of +government funds which had been intrusted to his charge for specific +purposes.</p> + +<p>"Searle," said the colonel, after they had walked along silently for a +few minutes, "I was telling you this evening about that vacant +captaincy."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you were telling me I shouldn't have it," replied Philip, with an +accent of injured friendship.</p> + +<p>"Well, I fancied it out of my power to do anything about it. But"—</p> + +<p>"Well, but?"—</p> + +<p>"I think I might get it for you, for—for"——</p> + +<p>"A consideration?" suggested Philip, interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"Well, to be plain with you, let me have five hundred, and you've won +all of that to-night, and I'll get you the captaincy."</p> + +<p>"We'll talk about it to-morrow morning," replied Philip.</p> + +<p>And in the morning the bargain was concluded; Philip, with the promise +that all should be satisfactorily arranged, started the same day for +Washington, to await the commission so honorably disposed of by the +gallant colonel.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>We will let thirty days pass on, and bear the reader South of the +Potomac, beyond the Federal lines and within rifle-shot of an advanced +picket of the Confederate army, under General Beauregard. It was a +dismal night—the 16th of July. The rain fell heavily and the wind +moaned and shrieked through the lone forests like unhappy spirits +wailing in the darkness. A solitary horseman was cautiously wending his +way through the storm upon the Centreville road and toward the +Confederate Hue. He bore a white handkerchief, and from time to time, as +his ear seemed to catch a sound other than the voice of the tempest, he +drew his rein and raised the fluttering symbol at his drawn sword's +point. Through the dark masses of foliage that skirted the roadside, +presently could be seen the fitful glimmer of a watchfire, and the +traveller redoubled his precautions, but yet rode steadily on.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" cried a stern, loud voice from a clump of bushes that looked +black and threatening in the darkness. The horseman checked his horse +and sat immovable in the centre of the road.</p> + +<p>"Who goes there?" followed quick, in the same deep, peremptory tone.</p> + +<p>"An officer of the United States, with a flag of truce," was answered in +a clear, firm voice.</p> + +<p>"Stand where you are." There was a pause, and presently four dark forms +emerged from the roadside, and stood at the horse's head.</p> + +<p>"You've chosen a strange time for your errand, and a dangerous one," +said one of the party, with a mild and gentlemanly accent.</p> + +<p>"Who speaks?"</p> + +<p>"The officer in command of this picket."</p> + +<p>"Is not that Beverly Weems?"</p> + +<p>"The same. And surely I know that voice."</p> + +<p>"Of course you do, if you know Harold Hare."</p> + +<p>And the stranger, dismounting, stretched out his hand, which was eagerly +and warmly clasped, and followed by a silent and prolonged embrace.</p> + +<p>"How rash you have been, Harold," said Beverly, at last. "It is a mercy +that I was by, else might a bullet have been your welcome. Why did you +not wait till morning?"</p> + +<p>"Because my mission admits of no delay. It is most opportune that I have +met you. You have spoken to me at times, and Oriana often, of your young +cousin, Miranda."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Harold, what of her?"</p> + +<p>"Beverly, she is within a rifle-shot of where we stand, very sick—dying +I believe."</p> + +<p>"Good God, Harold! what strange tale is this?"</p> + +<p>"I am in command of an advanced picket, stationed at the old farm-house +yonder. Toward dusk this evening, a carriage drove up, and when +challenged, a pass was presented, with orders to assist the bearer, +Miranda Ayleff, beyond the lines. I remembered the name, and stepping to +the carriage door, beheld two females, one of whom was bending over her +companion, and holding a vial, a restorative, I suppose, to her lips.</p> + +<p>"'She has fainted, sir,' said the woman, 'and is very ill. I'm afraid +she won't last till she gets to Richmond. Can't you help her; isn't +there a surgeon among you at the farm-house there?'</p> + +<p>"We had no surgeon, but I had her taken into the house, and made as +comfortable as possible. When she recovered from her swoon, she asked +for you, and repeatedly for Oriana, and would not be comforted until I +promised her that she should be taken immediately on to Richmond. 'She +could not die there, among strangers,' she said; 'she must see one +friend before she died. She must go home at once and be forgiven.' And +thus she went, half in delirium, until I feared that her life would pass +away, from sheer exhaustion. I determined to ride over to your picket at +once, not dreaming, however, that you were in command. At dawn to-morrow +we shall probably be relieved, and it might be beyond my power then to +meet her wishes."</p> + +<p>"I need not say how much I thank you, Harold. But you were ever kind and +generous. Poor girl! Let us ride over at once, Harold. Who is her +companion?"</p> + +<p>"A woman some years her senior, but yet young, though prematurely faded. +I could get little from her. Not even her name. She is gloomy and +reserved, even morose at times; but she seems to be kind and attentive +to Miranda."</p> + +<p>Beverly left some hasty instructions with his sergeant, and rode over +with Harold to the farm-house. They found Miranda reclining upon a couch +of blankets, over which Harold had spread his military cloak, for the +dwelling had been stripped of its furniture, and was, in fact, little +more than a deserted ruin. The suffering girl was pale and attenuated, +and her sunken eyes were wild and bright with the fire of delirium. Yet +she seemed to recognize Beverly, and stretched out her thin arms when he +approached, exclaiming in tremulous accents:</p> + +<p>"Take me home, Beverly, oh, take me home!"</p> + +<p>Moll was seated by her side, upon a soldier's knapsack; her chin resting +upon her hands, and her black eyes fixed sullenly upon the floor. She +would give but short and evasive answers to Beverly's questions, and +stubbornly refused to communicate the particulars of Miranda's history.</p> + +<p>"She broke a blood-vessel a month ago in Boston. But she got better, +and was always wanting to go to her friends in Richmond. And so I +brought her on. And now you must take care of her, for I'm going back to +camp."</p> + +<p>This was about all the information she would give, and the two young men +ceased to importune her, and directed their attentions to the patient.</p> + +<p>The carriage was prepared and the cushions so arranged, with the help of +blankets, as to form a kind of couch within the vehicle. Upon this +Miranda was tenderly lifted, and when she was told that she should be +taken home without delay, and would soon see Oriana, she smiled like a +pleased child, and ceased complaining.</p> + +<p>Beverly stood beside his horse, with his hand clasped in Harold's. The +rain poured down upon them, and the single watchfire, a little apart +from which the silent sentinel stood leaning on his rifle, threw its +rude glare upon their saddened faces.</p> + +<p>"Good bye, old friend," said Beverly. "We have met strangely to-night, +and sadly. Pray heaven we may not meet more sadly on the battle-field."</p> + +<p>"Tell Oriana," replied Harold, "that I am with her in my prayers." He +had not spoken of her before, although Beverly had mentioned that she +was at the old manor house, and well. "I have not heard from Arthur," he +continued, "for I have been much about upon scouting parties since I +came, but I doubt not he is well, and I may find a letter when I return +to camp. Good bye; and may our next meeting see peace upon the land."</p> + +<p>They parted, and the carriage, with Beverly riding at its side, moved +slowly into the darkness, and was gone.</p> + +<p>Harold returned into the farm-house, and found Moll seated where he had +left her, and still gazing fixedly at the floor. He did not disturb her, +but paced the floor slowly, lost in his own melancholy thoughts. After a +silence of some minutes, the woman spoke, without looking up.</p> + +<p>"Have they gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"She is dying, ain't she?"</p> + +<p>"I fear she is very ill."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, she's dying—and it's better that she is."</p> + +<p>She then relapsed into her former mood, but after a while, as Harold +paused at the window and looked out, she spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Will it soon be day?"</p> + +<p>"Within an hour, I think," replied Harold. "Do you go back at daylight?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You have no horse?"</p> + +<p>"You'll lend me one, won't you? If you don't, I don't care; I can walk."</p> + +<p>"We will do what we can for you. What is your business at the camp?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," she answered gruffly. And then, after a pause, she asked:</p> + +<p>"Is there a man named Searle in your army—Philip Searle?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know not. There may be. I have never heard the name. Do you seek +such a person? Is he your friend, or relative?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," she said again, and then was silent as before.</p> + +<p>With the approach of dawn, the sentry challenged an advancing troop, +which proved to be the relief picket guard. Harold saluted the officer +in command, and having left orders respectively with their +subordinates, they entered the farm-house together, and proceeded to the +apartment where Moll still remained seated. She did not seem to notice +their entrance; but when the new-comer's voice, in some casual remark, +reached her ear, she rose up suddenly, and walking straight forward to +where the two stood, looking out at the window, she placed her hand +heavily, and even rudely, upon his shoulder. He turned at the touch, and +beholding her, started back, with not only astonishment, but fear.</p> + +<p>"You needn't look so white, Philip Searle," she said at last, in a low, +hoarse tone. "It's not a ghost you're looking at. But perhaps you're +only angry that you only half did your business while you were at it."</p> + +<p>"Where did you pick up this woman?" asked Searle of Harold, drawing him +aside.</p> + +<p>"She came with an invalid on her way to Richmond," replied Harold.</p> + +<p>"What invalid?"</p> + +<p>He spoke almost in a whisper, but Moll overheard him, and answered +fiercely:</p> + +<p>"One that is dying, Philip; and you know well enough who murdered her. +'Twasn't me you struck the hardest blow that night. Do you see that +scar? That's nothing; but you struck her to the heart."</p> + +<p>"What does she mean?" asked Harold, looking sternly into Philip's +disturbed eye.</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows. She's mad," he answered. "Did she tell you nothing—no +absurd story?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. She was sullen and uncommunicative, and half the time took no +notice of our questions."</p> + +<p>"No wonder, poor thing!" said Philip. "She's mad. However, I have some +little power with her, and if you will leave us alone awhile, I will +prevail upon her to go quietly back to Washington."</p> + +<p>Harold went up to the woman, who was leaning with folded arms against +the wall, and spoke kindly to her.</p> + +<p>"Should you want assistance, I will help you. We shall be going in half +an hour. You must be ready to go with us, you know, for you can't stay +here, where there may be fighting presently."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she replied. "Don't mind me. I can take care of myself. +You can leave us alone together. I'm not afraid of him."</p> + +<p>Harold left the room, and busied himself about the preparations for +departure. Left alone with the woman he had wronged, Philip for some +moments paced the room nervously and with clouded brow. Finally, he +stopped abruptly before Moll, who had been following his motions with +her wild, unquiet eyes.</p> + +<p>"Where have you sprung from now, and what do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Do you see that scar?" she said again, but more fiercely than before. +"While that lasts, there's no love 'twixt you and me, and it'll last me +till my death."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you trouble me. If you don't love me, why do you hang about +me wherever I go? We'll be better friends away from each other than +together. Why don't you leave me alone?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! we must be quits for that, you know," she answered, rather +wildly, and pointing to her forehead. "Do you think I'm a poor whining +fool like her, to get sick and die when you abuse me? I'll haunt you +till I die, Philip; and after, too, if I can, to punish you for that."</p> + +<p>Philip fancied that he detected the gleam of insanity in her eye, and he +was not wrong, for the terrible blow he had inflicted had injured her +brain; and her mind, weakened by dissipation and the action of +excitement upon her violent temperament, was tottering upon the verge of +madness.</p> + +<p>"When I was watching that poor sick girl," she continued, "I thought I +could have loved her, she was so beautiful and gentle, as she lay there, +white and thin, and never speaking a word against you, Philip, but +thinking of her friends far away, and asking to be taken home—home, +where her mother was sleeping under the sod—home, to be loved and +kissed again before she died. And I would have loved her if I hadn't +hated you so much that there wasn't room for the love of any living +creature in my bad heart. I used to sit all night and hear her +talk—talk in her dreams and in her fever—as if there were kind people +listening to her, people that were kind to her long ago. And the room +seemed full of angels sometimes, so that I was afraid to move and look +about; for I could swear I heard the fanning of their wings and the +rustle of their feet upon the carpet. Sometimes I saw big round tears +upon her wasted cheeks, and I wouldn't brush them away, for they looked +like jewels that the angels had dropped there. And then I tried to cry +myself, but, ha! ha! I had to laugh instead, although my heart was +bursting. I wished I could have cried; I'm sure it would have made my +heart so light, and perhaps it would have burst that ring of hot iron +that was pressing so hard around my head. It's there now, sinking and +burning right against my temples. But I can't cry, I haven't since I was +a little girl, long ago, long ago; but I think I cried when mother died, +long ago, long ago."</p> + +<p>She was speaking in a kind of dreamy murmur, while Philip paced the +room; and finally she sank down upon the floor, and sat there with her +hands pressed against her brows, rocking herself to and fro.</p> + +<p>"Moll," said Philip, stooping over her, and speaking in a gentle tone, +"I'm sorry I struck you, indeed I am; but I was drunk, and when you cut +me, I didn't know what I was about. Now let's be friends, there's a +good girl. You must go back to Washington, you know, and to New York, +and stay there till I come back. Won't you, now, Moll?"</p> + +<p>"Won't I? No, Philip Searle, I won't. I'll stay by you till you kill me; +yes, I will. You want to go after that poor girl and torment her; but +she's dying and soon you won't be able to hurt her any more."</p> + +<p>"Was it she, Moll, was it Miranda that came here with you? Was she going +to Richmond?"</p> + +<p>"She was going to heaven, Philip Searle, out of the reach of such as you +and me. I'm good enough for you, Philip, bad as I am; and I'm your wife, +besides."</p> + +<p>"You told her that?"</p> + +<p>"Told her? Ha! ha! Told her? do you think I'm going to make that a +secret? No, no. We're a bad couple, sure enough; but I'm not going to +deny you, for all that. Look you, young man," she continued, addressing +Harold, who at that moment entered the room, "that is Philip Searle, and +Philip Searle is my husband—my husband, curse his black heart! and if +he dares deny it, I'll have him in the State prison, for I can do it."</p> + +<p>"She's perfectly insane," said Philip; but Harold looked thoughtful and +perplexed, and scanned his fellow-officer's countenance with a searching +glance.</p> + +<p>"At all events," he said, "she must not remain here. My good woman, we +are ready now, and you must come with us. We have a horse for you, and +will make you comfortable. Are you ready?"</p> + +<p>"No," she replied, sullenly, "I won't go. I'll stay with my husband."</p> + +<p>"Nay," remonstrated Harold, gently, "you cannot stay here. This is no +place for women. When we arrive at headquarters, you shall tell your +story to General McDowell, and he will see that you are taken care of, +and have justice if you have been wronged. But you must not keep us +waiting. We are soldiers, you know, and must do our duty."</p> + +<p>Still, however, she insisted upon remaining where she was; but when two +soldiers, at a gesture from Harold, approached and took her gently by +the arms, she offered no resistance, and suffered herself to be led +quietly out. Harold coldly saluted Searle, and left him in charge of the +post; while himself and party, accompanied by Moll and the coachman who +had driven them from Washington, were soon briskly marching toward the +camp.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Toward dusk of the same day, while Philip and his lieutenant were seated +at the rude pine table, conversing after their evening meal, the +sergeant of the guard entered with a slip of paper, on which was traced +a line in pencil.</p> + +<p>"Is the bearer below?" asked Philip, as he cast his eyes over the paper.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. He was challenged a minute ago, and answered with the +countersign and that slip for you, sir."</p> + +<p>"It's all right, sergeant; you may send him up. Mr. Williams," he +continued, to his comrade, "will you please to look about a little and +see that all is in order. I will speak a few words with this messenger."</p> + +<p>The lieutenant and sergeant left the room, and presently afterward there +entered, closing the door carefully after him, no less a personage than +Seth Rawbon.</p> + +<p>"You're late," said Philip, motioning him to a chair.</p> + +<p>"There's an old proverb to answer that," answered Rawbon, as he +leisurely adjusted his lank frame upon the seat. Having established +himself to his satisfaction, he continued:</p> + +<p>"I had to make a considerable circuit to avoid the returning picket, who +might have bothered me with questions. I'm in good time, though. If +you've made up your mind to go, you'll do it as well by night, and safer +too."</p> + +<p>"What have you learned?"</p> + +<p>"Enough to make me welcome at headquarters. You were right about the +battle. There'll be tough work soon. They're fixing for a general +advance. If you expect to do your first fighting under the stars and +bars, you must swear by them to-night."</p> + +<p>"Have you been in Washington?"</p> + +<p>"Every nook and corner of it. They don't keep their eyes skinned, I +fancy, up there. Your fancy colonels have slippery tongues when the +champagne corks are flying. If they fight as hard as they drink, they'll +give us trouble. Well, what do you calculate to do?" he added, after a +pause, during which Philip was moody and lost in thought.</p> + +<p>Philip rose from his seat and paced the floor uneasily, while Rawbon +filled a glass from a flask of brandy on the table. It was now quite +dark without, and neither of them observed the figure of a woman +crouched on the narrow veranda, her chin resting on the sill of the open +window. At last Philip resumed his seat, and he, too, swallowed a deep +draught from the flask of brandy.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what I can count upon?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The same grade you have, and in a crack regiment. It's no use asking +for money. They've none to spare for such as you—now don't look +savage—I mean they won't buy men that hain't seen service, and you +can't expect them to. I told you all about that before, and it's time +you had your mind made up."</p> + +<p>"What proofs of good faith can you give me?"</p> + +<p>Rawbon thrust his hand into his bosom and drew out a roll of parchment.</p> + +<p>"This commission, under Gen. Beauregard's hand, to be approved when you +report yourself at headquarters."</p> + +<p>Philip took the document and read it attentively, while Rawbon occupied +himself with filling his pipe from a leathern pouch. The female figure +stepped in at the window, and, gliding noiselessly into the room, seated +herself in a third chair by the table before either of the men became +aware of her presence. They started up with astonishment and +consternation. She did not seem to heed them, but leaning upon the +table, she stretched her hand to the brandy flask and applied it to her +lips.</p> + +<p>"Who's this?" demanded Rawbon, with his hand upon the hilt of his large +bowie knife.</p> + +<p>"Curse her! my evil genius," answered Philip, grating his teeth with +anger. It was Moll.</p> + +<p>"What's this, Philip!" she said, clutching the parchment which had been +dropped upon the table.</p> + +<p>"Leave that," ejaculated her husband, savagely, and darting to take it +from her.</p> + +<p>But she eluded his grasp, and ran with the document into a corner of the +room.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha! I know what it is," she said, waving it about as a +schoolboy sometimes exultingly exhibits a toy that he has mischievously +snatched from a comrade.</p> + +<p>"It's your death-warrant, Philip Searle, if somebody sees it over +yonder. I heard you. I heard you. You're going over to fight for Jeff. +Davis. Well, I don't care, but I'll go with you. Don't come near me. +Don't hurt me, Philip, or I'll scream to the soldier out there."</p> + +<p>"I won't hurt you, Moll. Be quiet now, there's a good girl. Come here +and take a sup more of brandy."</p> + +<p>"I won't. You want to hurt me. But you can't. I'm a match for you both. +Ha! ha! You don't know how nicely I slipped away from the soldiers when +they, were resting. I went into the thick bushes, right down in the +water, and lay still. I wanted to laugh when I saw them, hunting for me, +and I could almost have touched the young officer if I had wished. But I +lay still as a mouse, and they went off and never found me. Ha! ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"Is she drunk or mad?" asked Rawbon.</p> + +<p>"Mad," answered Philip, "but cunning enough to do mischief, if she has a +mind to. Moll, dear, come sit down here and be quiet; come, now."</p> + +<p>"Mad? mad?" murmured Moll, catching his word. "No, I'm not mad," she +continued wildly, passing her hands over her brows, "but I saw spirits +just now in the woods, and heard voices, and they've frightened me. The +ghost of the girl that died in the hospital was there. You knew little +blue-eyed Lizzie, Philip. She was cursing me when she died and calling +for her mother. But I don't care. The man paid me well for getting her, +and 'twasn't my fault if she got sick and died. Poor thing! poor thing! +poor little blue-eyed Lizzie! She was innocent enough when she first +came, but she got to be as bad as any—until she got sick and died. Poor +little Lizzie!" And thus murmuring incoherently, the unhappy woman sat +down upon the floor, and bent her head upon her knees.</p> + +<p>"Clap that into her mouth," whispered Philip, handing Rawbon his +handkerchief rolled tightly into a ball. "Quietly now, but quick. Look +out now. She's strong as a trooper."</p> + +<p>They approached her without noise, but suddenly, and while Philip +grasped her wrists, Rawbon threw back her head, and forcing the jaws +open by a violent pressure of his knuckles against the joint, thrust +the handkerchief between her teeth and bound it tightly there with two +turns of his sash. The shriek was checked upon her lips and changed into +a painful, gurgling groan. The poor creature, with convulsive efforts, +struggled to free her arms from Philip's grasp, but he managed to keep +his hold until Rawbon had secured her wrists with the stout cord that +suspended his canteen. A silk neckerchief was then tightly bound around +her ankles, and Moll, with heaving breast and glaring eyes, lay, moaning +piteously, but speechless and motionless, upon the floor.</p> + +<p>"We can leave her there," said Rawbon. "It's not likely any of your men +will come in, until morning at least. Let's be off at once."</p> + +<p>Philip snatched up the parchment where it had fallen, and silently +followed his companion.</p> + +<p>"We are going beyond the line to look about a bit," he said to the +sergeant on duty, as they passed his post. "Keep all still and quiet +till we return."</p> + +<p>"Take some of the boys with you, captain," replied the sergeant. "We're +unpleasant close to those devils, sir."</p> + +<p>"It's all right, sergeant. There's no danger," And nodding to Seth, the +two walked leisurely along the road until concealed by the darkness, +when they quickened their pace and pushed boldly toward the Confederate +lines.</p> + +<p>Half an hour, or less perhaps, after their departure, the sentry, posted +at about a hundred yards from the house, observed an unusual light +gleaming from the windows of the old farm-house. He called the attention +of Lieutenant Williams, who was walking by in conversation with the +sergeant, to the circumstance.</p> + +<p>"Is not the captain there?" asked the lieutenant.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," replied the sergeant, "he started off to go beyond the line +half an hour ago."</p> + +<p>"Alone?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; that chap that came in at dusk was with him."</p> + +<p>"It's strange he should have gone without speaking to me about it."</p> + +<p>"I wanted him to take some of our fellows along, sir, but he didn't care +to. By George! that house is afire, sir. Look there."</p> + +<p>While talking, they had been proceeding toward the farm-house, when the +light from the windows brightened suddenly into a broad glare, and +called forth the sergeant's exclamation. Before they reached the +building a jet of flame had leaped from one of the casements, and +continued to whirl like a flaming ribbon in the air. They quickened +their pace to a run, and bursting into the doorway, were driven back by +a dense volume of smoke, that rolled in black masses along the corridor. +They went in again, and the sergeant pushed open the door of the room +where Moll lay bound, but shut it quickly again, as a tongue of flame +lashed itself toward him like an angry snake.</p> + +<p>"It's all afire, sir," he said, coughing and spluttering through the +smoke. "Are there any of the captain's traps inside?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all," replied the lieutenant. "Let's go in, however, and see +what can be done."</p> + +<p>They entered, but were driven back by the baffling smoke and the flames +that were now licking all over the dry plastering of the room.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," said the lieutenant, when they had gained their breath in +the open air. "There's no water, except in the brook down yonder, and +what the men have in their canteens. The house is like tinder. Let it +go, sergeant; it's not worth saving at the risk of singing your +whiskers."</p> + +<p>The men had now come up, and gathered about the officer to receive his +commands.</p> + +<p>"Let the old shed go, my lads," he said. "It's well enough that some +rebel should give us a bonfire now and then. Only stand out of the +glare, boys, or you may have some of those devils yonder making targets +of you."</p> + +<p>The men fell back into the shadow, and standing in little groups, or +seated upon the sward, watched the burning house, well pleased to have +some spectacle to relieve the monotony of the night. And they looked +with indolent gratification, passing the light jest and the merry word, +while the red flames kept up their wild sport, and great masses of +rolling vapor upheaved from the crackling roof, and blackened the +midnight sky. None sought to read the mystery of that conflagration. It +was but an old barn gone to ashes a little before its time. Perhaps some +mischievous hand among them had applied the torch for a bit of +deviltry. Perhaps the flames had caught from Rawbon's pipe, which he had +thrown carelessly among a heap of rubbish when startled by Molly's +sudden apparition. Or yet, perhaps, though Heaven forbid it, for the +sake of human nature, the same hand that had struck so nearly fatally +once, had been tempted to complete the work of death in a more terrible +form.</p> + +<p>But within those blistering walls, who can tell what ghastly revels the +mad flames were having over their bound and solitary victim! Perhaps, as +she lay there with distended jaws, and eyeballs starting from their +sockets, that brain, amid the visions of its madness, became conscious +of the first kindling of the subtle element that was so soon to clasp +her in its terrible embrace. How dreadful, while the long minutes +dragged, to watch its stealthy progress, and to feel that one little +effort of an unbound hand could avert the danger, and yet to lie there +helpless, motionless, without even the power to give utterance to the +shriek of terror which strained her throat to suffocation. And then, as +the creeping flame became stronger and brighter, and took long and +silent leaps from one object to another, gliding along the lathed, and +papered wall, rolling and curling along the raftered ceiling, would not +the wretched woman, raving already in delirium, behold the spectres that +her madness feared, beckoning to her in the lurid glare, or gliding in +and out among the wild fires that whirled in fantastic gambols around +and overhead! Nearer and nearer yet the rolling flame advances; it +commences to hiss and murmur in its progress; it wreathes itself about +the chairs and tables, and laps up the little pool of brandy spilled +from the forgotten flask; it plays about her feet, and creeps lazily +amid the folds of her gown, yet wet from the brook in which she had +concealed herself that day; it scorches and shrivels up the flesh upon +her limbs, while pendent fiery tongues leap from the burning rafters, +and kiss her cheeks and brows where the black veins swell almost to +bursting; every muscle and nerve of her frame is strained with +convulsive efforts to escape, but the cords only sink into the bloating +flesh, and she lies there crisping like a log, and as powerless to +move. The dense, black smoke hangs over her like a pall, but prostrate +as she is, it cannot sink low enough to suffocate and end her agony. How +the bared bosom heaves! how the tortured limbs writhe, and the +blackening cuticle emits a nauseous steam! The black blood oozing from +her nostrils proclaims how terrible the inward struggle. The whole frame +bends and shrinks, and warps like a fragment of leather thrown into a +furnace—the flame has reached her vitals—at last, by God's mercy, she +is dead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<p>At dawn of the morning of the 21st of July, an officer in plain undress +was busily writing at a table in a plainly-furnished apartment of a +farm-house near Manassas. He was of middle age and medium size, with +dark complexion, bold, prominent features, and steady, piercing black +eyes. His manner and the respectful demeanor of several officers in +attendance, rather than any insignia of office which he wore, bespoke +him of high rank; and the earnest attention which he bestowed upon his +labor, together with the numerous orders, written and verbal, which he +delivered at intervals to members of his staff, denoted that an affair +of importance was in hand. Several horses, ready caparisoned, were held +by orderlies at the door-way, and each aid, as he received instructions, +mounted and dashed away at a gallop.</p> + +<p>The building was upon a slight elevation of land, and along the plain +beneath could be seen the long rows of tents and the curling smoke of +camp-fires; while the hum of many voices in the distance, with here and +there a bugle-blast and the spirit-stirring roll of drums, denoted the +site of the Confederate army. The reveille had just sounded, and the din +of active preparation could be heard throughout the camp. Regiments were +forming, and troops of horse were marshalling in squadron, while others +were galloping here and there; while, through the ringing of sabres and +the strains of marshal music, the low rumbling of the heavy-wheeled +artillery was the most ominous sound.</p> + +<p>An orderly entered the apartment where General Beauregard was writing, +and spoke with one of the members of the staff in waiting.</p> + +<p>"What is it, colonel?" asked the general, looking up.</p> + +<p>"An officer from the outposts, with two prisoners, general." And he +added something in a lower tone.</p> + +<p>"Very opportune," said Beauregard. "Let them come in."</p> + +<p>The orderly withdrew and reentered with Captain Weems, followed by +Philip Searle and Rawbon. A glance of recognition passed between the +latter and Beauregard, and Seth, obeying a gesture of the general, +advanced and placed a small package on the table. The general opened it +hastily and glanced over its contents.</p> + +<p>"As I thought," he muttered. "You are sure as to the disposition of the +advance?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure of the main features."</p> + +<p>"When did you get in?"</p> + +<p>"Only an hour ago. Their vanguard was close behind. Before noon, I think +they will be upon you in three columns from the different roads."</p> + +<p>"Very well, you may go now. Come to me in half an hour. I shall have +work for you. Who is that with you?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Searle."</p> + +<p>"Of whom we spoke?"</p> + +<p>"The same."</p> + +<p>The general nodded, and Seth left the apartment. Beauregard for a second +scanned Philip's countenance with a searching glance.</p> + +<p>"Approach, sir, if you please. We have little time for words. Have you +information to impart?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing beyond what I think you know already. You may expect at every +moment to hear the boom of McDowell's guns."</p> + +<p>"On the right?"</p> + +<p>"I think the movement will be on your left. Richardson remains on the +southern road, in reserve. Tyler commands the centre. Carlisle, Bicket +and Ayre will give you trouble there with their batteries. Hunter and +Heintzelman, with fourteen thousand, will act upon your left."</p> + +<p>"Then we are wrong, Taylor," said Beauregard, turning to an officer at +his side; and rising, the two conversed for a moment in low but earnest +tone.</p> + +<p>"It is plausible," said Beauregard, at length. "Taylor, ride down to Bee +and see about it. Captain Searle, you will report yourself to Colonel +Hampton at once. He will have orders for you. Captain Weems, you will +please see him provided for. Come, gentlemen, to the field!"</p> + +<p>The general and his staff were soon mounted and riding rapidly toward +the masses and long lines of troops that were marshalling on the plain +below.</p> + +<p>Beverly stood at the doorway alone with Philip Searle. He was grave and +sad, although the bustle and preparation of an expected battle lent a +lustre to his eye. To his companion he was stern and distant, and they +both walked onward for some moments without a word. At a short distance +from the building, they came upon a black groom holding two saddled +horses.</p> + +<p>"Mount, sir, if you please," said Beverly, and they rode forward at a +rapid pace. Philip was somewhat surprised to observe that their course +lay away from the camp, and in fact the sounds of military life were +lessening as they went on. They passed the brow of the hill and +descended by a bridle-path into a little valley, thick with shrubbery +and trees. At the gateway of a pleasant looking cottage Beverly drew +rein.</p> + +<p>"I must ask you to enter here," he said, dismounting. "Within a few +hours we shall both be, probably, in the ranks of battle; but first I +have a duty to perform."</p> + +<p>They entered the cottage, within which all was hushed and still; the +sounds of an active household were not heard. They ascended the little +stair, and Beverly pushed gently open the door of an apartment and +motioned to Philip to enter. He paused at first, for as he stood on the +threshold a low sob reached his ear.</p> + +<p>"Pass in," said Beverly, in a grave, stern tone. "I have promised that I +would bring you, else, be assured, I would not linger in your presence."</p> + +<p>They entered. It was a small, pleasant room, and through the lattice +interwoven with woodbine the rising sun looked in like a friendly +visitor. Upon a bed was stretched the form of a young girl, sleeping or +dead, it would be hard to tell, the features were so placid and +beautiful in repose. One ray of sunlight fell among the tangles of her +golden hair, and glowed like a halo above the marble-white brow. The +long dark lashes rested upon her cheek with a delicate contrast like +that of the velvety moss when it peeps from the new-fallen snow. Her +hands were folded upon her bosom above the white coverlet; they clasped +a lily, that seemed as if sculptured upon a churchyard stone, so white +was the flower, so white the bosom that it pressed. One step nearer +revealed that she was dead; earthly sleep was never so calm and +beautiful. By the bedside Oriana Weems was seated, weeping silently. +She arose when her brother entered, and went to him, putting her hands +about his neck. Beverly tenderly circled his arm about her waist, and +they stood together at the bedside, gazing on all that death had left +upon earth of their young cousin, Miranda.</p> + +<p>"She died this morning very soon after you left," said Oriana, "without +pain and I think without sorrow, for she wore that same sweet smile that +you see now frozen upon her lips. Oh, Beverly, I am sorry you brought +<i>him</i> here!" she added, in a lower tone, glancing with a shudder at +Philip Searle, who stood looking with a frown out at the lattice, and +stopping the sunbeam from coming into the room. "It seems," she +continued, "as if his presence brought a curse that would drag upon the +angels' wings that are bearing her to heaven. Though, thank God, she is +beyond his power to harm her now!" and she knelt beside the pillow and +pressed her lips upon the cold, white brow.</p> + +<p>"She wished to see him, Oriana, before she died," said Beverly, "and I +promised to bring him; and yet I am glad she passed away before his +coming, for I am sure he could bring no peace with him for the dying, +and his presence now is but an insult to the dead."</p> + +<p>When he had spoken, there was silence for a while, which was broken by +the sudden boom of a distant cannon. They all started at the sound, for +it awakened them from mournful memories, to yet perhaps more solemn +thoughts of what was to come before that bright sun should rise upon the +morrow. Beverly turned slowly to where Philip stood, and pointed sternly +at the death-bed.</p> + +<p>"You have seen enough, if you have dared to look at all," he said. "I +have not the power, nor the will, to punish. A soldier's death to-day is +what you can best pray for, that you may not live to think of this +hereafter. She sent for you to forgive you, but died and you are +unforgiven. Bad as you are, I pity you that you must go to battle +haunted by the remembrance of this murder that you have done."</p> + +<p>Philip half turned with an angry curl upon his lip, as if prepared for +some harsh answer; but he saw the white thin face and folded hands, and +left the room without a word.</p> + +<p>"Farewell! dear sister," said Beverly, clasping the weeping girl in his +arms. "I have already overstaid the hour, and must spur hard to be at my +post in time. God bless you! it may be I shall never see you again; if +so, I leave you to God and my country. But I trust all will be well."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Beverly! come back to me, my brother; I am alone in the world +without you. I would not have you swerve from your duty, although death +came with it; but yet, remember that I am alone without you, and be not +rash or reckless. I will watch and pray for you beside this death-bed, +Beverly, while you are fighting, and may God be with you."</p> + +<p>Beverly summoned an old negress to the room, and consigned his sister to +her care. Descending the stairs rapidly, he leaped upon his horse, and +waving his hand to Philip, who was already mounted, they plunged along +the valley, and ascending the crest of the hill, beheld, while they +still spurred on, the vast army in motion before them, while far off in +the vanward, from time to time, the dull, heavy booming of artillery +told that the work was already begun.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>On the evening of the 20th July, Hunter's division, to which Harold Hare +was attached, was bivouacked on the old Braddock Road, about a mile and +a half southeast of Centreville. It was midnight. There was a strange +and solemn hush throughout the camp, broken only by the hail of the +sentinel and the occasional trampling of horses hoofs, as some +aid-de-camp galloped hastily along the line. Some of the troops were +sleeping, dreaming, perhaps, of home, and far away, for the time, from +the thought of the morrow's danger. But most were keeping vigil through +the long hours of darkness, communing with themselves or talking in low +murmurs with some comrade; for each soldier knew that the battle-hour +was at hand. Harold was stretched upon his cloak, striving in vain to +win the boon of an hour's sleep, for he was weary with the toil of the +preceding day; but he could not shut out from his brain the whirl of +excitement and suspense which that night kept so many tired fellows +wakeful when they most needed rest. It was useless to court slumber, on +the eve, perhaps, of his eternal sleep; he arose and walked about into +the night.</p> + +<p>Standing beside the dying embers of a watchfire, wrapped in his blanket, +and gazing thoughtfully into the little drowsy flames that yet curled +about the blackened fagots, was a tall and manly form, which Harold +recognized as that of his companion in arms, a young lieutenant of his +company. He approached, and placed his hand upon his fellow-soldier's +arm.</p> + +<p>"What book of fate are you reading in the ashes, Harry?" he asked, in a +pleasant tone, anxious to dispel some portion of his own and his +comrade's moodiness.</p> + +<p>The soldier turned to him and smiled, but sorrowfully and with effort.</p> + +<p>"My own destiny, perhaps," he answered. "Those ashes were glowing once +with light and warmth, and before the dawn they will be cold, as you or +I may be to-morrow, Harold."</p> + +<p>"I thought you were too old a soldier to nurse such fancies upon the +eve of battle. I must confess that I, who am a novice in this work, am +as restless and nervous as a woman; but you have been seasoned by a +Mexican campaign, and I came to you expressly to be laughed into +fortitude again."</p> + +<p>"You must go on till you meet one more lighthearted than myself," +answered the other, with a sigh. "Ah! Harold, I have none of the old +elasticity about me to-night. I would I were back under my father's +roof, never to hear the roll of the battle-drum again. This is a cruel +war, Harold."</p> + +<p>"A just one."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but cruel. Have you any that you love over yonder, Harold? Any +that are dear to you, and that you must strike at on the morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Harry, that is it. It is, as you say, a cruel war."</p> + +<p>"I have a brother there," continued his companion; and he looked sadly +into the gloom, as if he yearned through the darkness and distance to +catch a glimpse of the well-known form. "A brother that, when I last saw +him, was a little rosy-cheeked boy, and used to ride upon my knee. He +is scarce more than a boy now, and yet he will shoulder his musket +to-morrow, and stand in the ranks perhaps to be cut down by the hand +that has caressed him. He was our mother's darling, and it is a mercy +that she is not living to see us armed against each other."</p> + +<p>"It is a painful thought," said Harold, "and one that you should dismiss +from contemplation. The chances are thousands to one that you will never +meet in battle."</p> + +<p>"I trust the first bullet that will be fired may reach my heart, rather +than that we should. But who can tell? I have a strange, gloomy feeling +upon me; I would say a presentiment, if I were superstitious."</p> + +<p>"It is a natural feeling upon the eve of battle. Think no more of it. +Look how prettily the moon is creeping from under the edge of yonder +cloud. We shall have a bright day for the fight, I think."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's a comfort. One fights all the better in the warm sunlight, +as if to show the bright heavens what bloodthirsty devils we can be upon +occasion. Hark!"</p> + +<p>It was the roll of the drum, startling the stillness of the night; and +presently, the brief, stern orders of the sergeants could be heard +calling the men into the ranks. There is a strange mingled feeling of +awe and excitement in this marshalling of men at night for a dangerous +expedition. The orders are given instinctively in a more subdued and +sterner tone, as if in unison with the solemnity of the hour. The tramp +of marching feet strikes with a more distinct and hollow sound upon the +ear. The dark masses seem to move more compactly, as if each soldier +drew nearer to his comrade for companionship. The very horses, although +alert and eager, seem to forego their prancing, and move with sober +tread. And when the word "forward!" rings along the dark column, and the +long and silent ranks bend and move on as with an electric impulse, +there is a thrill in every vein, and each heart contracts for an +instant, as if the black portals of a terrible destiny were open in the +van.</p> + +<p>A half hour of silent hurry and activity passed away, and at last the +whole army was in motion. It was now three o'clock; the moon shone down +upon the serried ranks, gleaming from bayonet and cannon, and +stretching long black shadows athwart the road. From time to time along +the column could be heard the ringing voice of some commander, as he +galloped to the van, cheering his men with some well-timed allusion, or +dispelling the surrounding gloom with a cheerful promise of victory. +Where the wood road branched from the Warrentown turnpike, Gen. +McDowell, standing in his open carriage, looked down upon the passing +columns, and raised his hat, when the excited soldiers cheered as they +hurried on. Here Hunter's column turned to the right, while the main +body moved straight on to the centre. Then all became more silent than +before, and the light jest passing from comrade to comrade was less +frequent, for each one felt that every step onward brought him nearer to +the foe.</p> + +<p>The eastern sky soon paled into a greyish light, and ruddy streaks +pushed out from the horizon. The air breathed fresher and purer than in +the darkness, and the bright sun, with an advance guard of thin, rosy +clouds, shot upward from the horizon in a blaze of splendor. It was the +Sabbath morn.</p> + +<p>The boom of a heavy gun is heard from the centre. Carlisle has opened +the ball. The day's work is begun. Another! The echoes spring from the +hillsides all around, like a thousand angry tongues that threaten death. +But on the right, no trace of an enemy is to be seen. Burnside's brigade +was in the van; they reached the ford at Sudley's Springs; a momentary +confusion ensues as the column prepares to cross. Soon the men are +pushing boldly through the shallow stream, but the temptation is too +great for their parched throats; they stoop to drink and to fill their +canteens from the cool wave. But as they look up they see a cloud of +dust rolling up from the plain beyond, and their thirst has passed +away—they know that the foe is there.</p> + +<p>An aid comes spurring down the bank, waving his hand and splashing into +the stream.</p> + +<p>"Forward, men! forward!"</p> + +<p>Hunter gallops to meet him, with his staff clattering at his horse's +heels.</p> + +<p>"Break the heads of regiments from the column and push on—push on!"</p> + +<p>The field officers dash along the ranks, and the men spring to their +work, as the word of command is echoed from mouth to mouth.</p> + +<p>Crossing the stream, their course extended for a mile through a thick +wood, but soon they came to the open country, with undulating fields, +rolling toward a little valley through which a brooklet ran. And beyond +that stream, among the trees and foliage which line its bank and extend +in wooded patches southward, the left wing of the enemy are in battle +order.</p> + +<p>From a clump of bushes directly in front, came a puff of white smoke +wreathed with flame; the whir of the hollow ball is heard, and it +ploughs the moist ground a few rods from our advance.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the dull report reverberated, when, in quick succession, a +dozen jets of fire gleamed out, and the shells came plunging into the +ranks. Burnside's brigade was in advance and unsupported, but under the +iron hail the line was formed, and the cry "Forward!" was answered with +a cheer. A long grey line spread out upon the hillside, forming rapidly +from the outskirts of the little wood. It was the Southern infantry, +and soon along their line a deadly fire of musketry was opened.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the heavy firing from the left and further on, announced that +the centre and extreme left were engaged. A detachment of regulars was +sent to Burnside's relief, and held the enemy in check till a portion of +Porter's and Heintzelman's division came up and pressed them back from +their position.</p> + +<p>The battle was fiercely raging in the centre, where the 69th had led the +van and were charging the murderous batteries with the bayonet. We must +leave their deeds to be traced by the historic pen, and confine our +narrative to the scene in which Harold bore a part. The nearest battery, +supported by Carolinians, had been silenced. The Mississippians had +wavered before successive charges, and an Alabama regiment, after four +times hurling back the serried ranks that dashed against them, had +fallen back, outflanked and terribly cut up. On the left was a +farm-house, situated on an elevated ridge a little back from the road. +Within, while the fiercest battle raged, was its solitary inmate, an +aged and bed-ridden lady, whose paralyzed and helpless form was +stretched upon the bed where for fourscore years she had slept the calm +sleep of a Christian. She had sent her attendants from the dwelling to +seek a place of safety, but would not herself consent to be removed, for +she heard the whisper of the angel of death, and chose to meet, him +there in the house of her childhood. For the possession of the hill on +which the building stood, the opposing hosts were hotly struggling. The +fury of the battle seemed to concentre there, and through the time-worn +walls the shot was plunging, splintering the planks and beams, and +shivering the stone foundation. Sherman's battery came thundering up the +hill upon its last desperate advance. Just as the foaming horses were +wheeled upon its summit, the van of Hampton's legion sprang up the +opposite side, and the crack of a hundred rifles simultaneously sounded. +Down fell the cannoneers beside their guns before those deadly missiles, +and the plunging horses were slaughtered in the traces, or, wounded to +the death, lashed out their iron hoofs among the maimed and writhing +soldiers and into the heaps of dead. The battery was captured, but held +only fop an instant, when two companies of Rhode Islanders, led on by +Harold Hare, charged madly up the hill.</p> + +<p>"Save the guns, boys!" he cried, as the gallant fellows bent their heads +low, and sprang up the ascent right in the face of the blazing rifles.</p> + +<p>"Fire low! stand firm! drive them back once again, my brave Virginians!" +shouted a young Southern officer, springing to the foremost rank.</p> + +<p>The mutual fire was delivered almost at the rifles' muzzles, and the +long sword-bayonets clashed together. Without yielding ground, for a few +terrible seconds they thrust and parried with the clanging steel, while +on either side the dead were stiffening beneath their feet, and the +wounded, with shrieks of agony, were clutching at their limbs. Harold +and the young Southron met; their swords clashed together once in the +smoke and dust, and but once, when each drew back and lowered his +weapon, while all around were striking. Then, amid that terrible +discord, their two left hands were pressed together for an instant, and +a low "God bless you!" came from the lips of both.</p> + +<p>"To the right, Beverly, keep you to the right!" said Harold, and he +himself, straight through the hostile ranks, sprang in an opposite +direction.</p> + +<p>When Harold's party had first charged up the hill, the young lieutenant +with whom he had conversed beside the watch-fire on the previous +evening, was at the head of his platoon, and as the two bodies met, he +sent the last shot from his revolver full in the faces of the foremost +rank. So close were they, that the victim of that shot, struck in the +centre of the forehead, tottered forward, and fell into his arms. There +was a cry of horror that pierced even above the shrieks of the wounded +and the yells of the fierce combatants. One glance at that fair, +youthful face sufficed;—it was his brother—dead in his arms, dead by a +brother's hand. The yellow hair yet curled above the temples, but the +rosy bloom upon the cheek was gone; already the ashen hue of death was +there. There was a small round hole just where the golden locks waved +from the edge of the brow, and from it there slowly welled a single +globule of black gore. It left the face undisfigured—pale, but tranquil +and undistorted as a sleeping child's—not even a clot of blood was +there to mar its beauty. The strong and manly soldier knelt upon the +dust, and holding the dead boy with both arms clasped about his waist, +bent his head low down upon the lifeless bosom, and gasped with an agony +more terrible than that which the death-wound gives.</p> + +<p>"Charley! Oh God! Charley! Charley!" was all that came from his white +lips, and he sat there like stone, with the corpse in his arms, still +murmuring "Charley!" unconscious that blades were flashing and bullets +whistling around him. The blood streamed from his wounds, the bayonets +were gleaming round, and once a random shot ploughed into his thigh and +shivered the bone. He only bent a little lower and his voice was +fainter; but still he murmured "Charley! Oh God! Charley," and never +unfolded his arms from its embrace. And there, when the battle was over, +the Southrons found him, dead—with his dead brother in his arms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<p>At the door-way of the building on the hill, where the aged invalid was +yielding her last breath amid the roar of battle, a wounded officer sat +among the dying and the dead, while the conflict swept a little away +from that quarter of the field. The blood was streaming from the +shattered bosom, and feebly he strove to staunch it with his silken +scarf. He had dragged himself through gore and dust until he reached +that spot, and now, rising again with a convulsive effort, he leaned his +red hands against the wall, and entered over the fragments of the door, +which had been shivered by a shell. With tottering steps he passed along +the hall and up the little stairway, as one who had been familiar with +the place. Before the door of the aged lady's chamber he paused a moment +and listened; all was still there, although the terrible tumult of the +battle was sounding all around. He entered; he advanced to the +bed-side; the dying woman was murmuring a prayer. A random shot had torn +the shrivelled flesh upon her bosom and the white counterpane was +stained with blood. She did not see him—her thoughts were away from +earth, she was already seeking communion with the spirits of the blest. +The soldier knelt by that strange death-bed and leaned his pale brow +upon the pillow.</p> + +<p>"Mother!"</p> + +<p>How strangely the word sounded amid the shouts of combatants and the din +of war. It was like a good angel's voice drowning the discords of hell.</p> + +<p>"Mother!"</p> + +<p>She heard not the cannon's roar, but that one word, scarce louder than +the murmur of a dreaming infant, reached her ear. The palsied head was +turned upon the pillow and the light of life returned to her glazing +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Who speaks?" she gasped, while her thin hands were tremulously clasped +together with emotion.</p> + +<p>"'Tis I, mother. Philip, your son."</p> + +<p>"Philip, my son!" and the nerveless form, that had scarce moved for +years, was raised upon the bed by the last yearning effort of a mother's +love.</p> + +<p>"Is it you, Philip, is it you, indeed? I can scarce see your form, but +surely I have heard the voice of my boy;—my long absent boy. Oh! +Philip! why have I not heard it oftener to comfort my old age?"</p> + +<p>"I am dying, mother. I have been a bad son and a guilty man. But I am +dying, mother. Oh! I am punished for my sin! The avenging bullet struck +me down at the gate of the home I had deserted—the home I have made +desolate to you. Mother, I have crawled here to die."</p> + +<p>"To die! O God! your hand is cold—or is it but the chill of death upon +my own? Oh! I had thought to have said farewell to earth forever, but +yet let me linger but a little while, O Lord! if but to bless my son." +She sank exhausted upon the pillow, but yet clasped the gory fingers of +the dying man.</p> + +<p>"Philip, are you there? Let me hear your voice. I hear strange murmurs +afar off; but not the voice of my son. Are you there, Philip, are you +there?"</p> + +<p>Philip Searle was crouching lower and lower by the bed-side, and his +forehead, upon which the dews of death were starting, lay languidly +beside the thin, white locks that rested on the pillow.</p> + +<p>"Look, mother!" he said, raising his head and glaring into the corner of +the room. "Do you see that form in white?—there—she with the pale +cheeks and golden hair! I saw her once before to-day, when she lay +stretched upon the bed, with a lily in her white fingers. And once again +I saw her in that last desperate charge, when the bullet struck my side. +And now she is there again, pale, motionless, but smiling. Does she +smile in mockery or forgiveness? I could rather bear a frown than that +terrible—that frozen smile. O God! she is coming to me, mother, she is +coming to me—she will lay her cold hand upon me. No—it is not she! it +is Moll—look, mother, it is Moll, all blackened with smoke and seared +with living fire. O God! how terrible! But, mother, I did not do that. +When I saw the flames afar off, I shuddered, for I knew how it must be. +But I did not do it, Moll, by my lost soul, I did not!" He started to +his feet with a convulsive effort. The hot blood spurted from his wound +with the exertion and spattered upon the face and breast of his +mother—but she felt it not, for she was dead. The last glimmering ray +of reason seemed to drive away the phantoms. He turned toward those +sharp and withered features, he saw the fallen jaw and lustreless glazed +eye. A shudder shook his frame at every point, and with a groan of pain +and terror, he fell forward upon the corpse—a corpse himself.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<p>The Federal troops, with successive charges, had now pushed the enemy +from their first position, and the torn battalions were still being +hurled against the batteries that swept their ranks. The excellent +generalship of the Confederate leaders availed itself of the valor and +impetuosity of their assailants to lure them, by consecutive advance and +backward movement, into the deadly range of their well planted guns. It +was then that, far to the right, a heavy column could be seen moving +rapidly in the rear of the contending hosts. Was it a part of Hunter's +division that had turned the enemy's rear? Such was the thought at +first, and with the delusion triumphant cheers rang from the parched +throats of the weary Federals. They were soon to be undeceived. The +stars and bars flaunted amid those advancing ranks, and the constant +yells of the Confederates proclaimed the truth. Johnston was pouring his +fresh troops upon the battle-field. The field was lost, but still was +struggled for in the face of hope. It was now late in the afternoon, and +the soldiers, exhausted with their desperate exertions, fought on, +doggedly, but without that fiery spirit which earlier in the day had +urged them to the cannon's mouth. There was a lull in the storm of +carnage, the brief pause that precedes the last terrific fury of the +tempest. The Confederates were concentrating their energies for a +decisive effort. It came. From the woods that skirted the left centre of +their position, a squadron of horsemen came thundering down upon our +columns. Right down upon Carlisle's battery they rode, slashing the +cannoneers and capturing the guns. Then followed their rushing ranks of +infantry, and full upon our flank swooped down another troop of cavalry, +dashing into the road where the baggage-train had been incautiously +advanced. Our tired and broken regiments were scattered to the right and +left. In vain a few devoted officers spurred among them, and called on +them to rally; they broke from the ranks in every quarter of the field, +and rushed madly up the hillsides and into the shelter of the trees. +The magnificent army that had hailed the rising sun with hopes of +victory was soon pouring along the road in inextricable confusion and +disorderly retreat. Foot soldier and horseman, field-piece and wagon, +caisson and ambulance, teamster and cannoneer, all were mingled together +and rushing backward from the field they had half won, with their backs +to the pursuing foe. That rout has been traced, to our shame, in +history; the pen of the novelist shuns the disgraceful theme.</p> + +<p>Harold, although faint with loss of blood, which oozed from a +flesh-wound in his shoulder, was among the gallant few who strove to +stem the ebbing current; struck at last by a spent ball in the temple, +he fell senseless to the ground. He would have been trampled upon and +crushed by the retreating column, had not a friendly hand dragged him +from the road to a little mound over which spread the branches of an +oak. Here he was found an hour afterward by a body of Confederate troops +and lifted into an ambulance with others wounded and bleeding like +himself.</p> + +<p>While the vehicle, with its melancholy freight, was being slowly +trailed over the scene of the late battle, Harold partially recovered +his benumbed senses. He lay there as in a dream, striving to recall +himself to consciousness of his position. He felt the dull throbbing +pain upon his brow and the stinging sensation in his shoulder, and knew +that he was wounded, but whether dangerously or not he could not judge. +He could feel the trickling of blood from the bosom of a wounded comrade +at his side, and could hear the groans of another whose thigh was +shattered by the fragment of a shell; but the situation brought no +feeling of repugnance, for he was yet half stunned and lay as in a +lethargy, wishing only to drain one draught of water and then to sleep. +The monotonous rumbling of the ambulance wheels sounded distinctly upon +his ear, and he could listen, with a kind of objectless curiosity, to +the casual conversation of the driver, as he exchanged words here and +there with others, who were returning upon the same dismal errand from +the scene of carnage. The shadows of night spread around him, covering +the field of battle like a pall flung in charity by nature over the +corpses of the slain. Then his bewildered fancies darkened with the +surrounding gloom, and he thought that he was coffined and in a hearse, +being dragged to the graveyard to be buried. He put forth his hand to +push the coffin lid, but it fell again with weakness, and when his +fingers came in contact with the splintered bone that protruded from his +neighbor's thigh, and he felt the warm gushing of the blood that welled +with each throb of the hastily bound artery, he puzzled his dreamy +thoughts to know what it might mean. At last all became a blank upon his +brain, and he relapsed once more into unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>And so, from dreamy wakefulness to total oblivion he passed to and fro, +without an interval to part the real from the unreal. He was conscious +of being lifted into the arms of men, and being borne along carefully by +strong arms. Whither? It seemed to his dull senses that they were +bearing him into a sepulchre, but he was not terrified, but careless and +resigned; or if he thought of it at all, it was to rejoice that when +laid there, he should be undisturbed. Presently a vague fancy passed +athwart his mind, that perhaps the crawling worms would annoy him, and +he felt uneasy, but yet not afraid. Afterward, there was a sensation of +quiet and relief, and his brain, for a space, was in repose. Then a +bright form bent over him, and he thought it was an angel. He could feel +a soft hand brushing the dampness from his brow, and fingers, whose +light touch soothed him, parting his clotted hair. The features grew +more distinct, and it pleased him to look upon them, although he strove +in vain to fix them in his memory, until a tear-drop fell upon his +cheek, and recalled his wandering senses; then he knew that Oriana was +bending over him and weeping.</p> + +<p>He was in the cottage where Beverly had last parted from his sister; not +in the same room, for they feared to place him there, where Miranda was +lying in a shroud, with a coffin by her bed-side, lest the sad spectacle +should disturb him when he woke. But he lay upon a comfortable bed in +another room, and Beverly and Oriana stood beside, while the surgeon +dressed his wounds.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>No need to say that Harold was well cared for by his two friendly foes. +Beverly had given his personal parole for his safe keeping, and he was +therefore free from all surveillance or annoyance on that score. His +wounds were not serious, although the contusion on the temple, which, +however, had left the skull uninjured, occasioned some uneasiness at +first. But the third day he was able to leave his bed, and with his arm +in a sling, sat comfortably in an easy-chair, and conversed freely with +his two excellent nurses.</p> + +<p>"Did Beverly tell you of Arthur's imprisonment?" he asked of Oriana, +breaking a pause in the general conversation.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, looking down, with a scarcely perceptible blush +upon her cheek. "Poor Arthur! Yours is a cruel government, Harold, that +would make traitors of such men. His noble heart would not harbor a +dangerous thought, much less a traitorous design."</p> + +<p>"I think with you," said Harold. "There is some strange mistake, which +we must fathom. I received his letter only the day preceding the battle. +Had there been no immediate prospect of an engagement, I would have +asked a furlough, and have answered it in person. I have small reason to +regret my own imprisonment," he added, "my jailers are so kind; yet I do +regret it for his sake."</p> + +<p>"You know that we are powerless to help him," said Beverly, "or even to +shorten your captivity, since your government will not exchange with us. +However, you must write, both to Arthur and to Mr. Lincoln, and I will +use my best interest with the general to have your letters sent on with +a flag."</p> + +<p>"I know that you will do all in your power, and I trust that my +representations may avail with the government, for I judge from Arthur's +letter that he is not well, although he makes no complaint. He is but +delicate at the best, and what with the effects of his late injuries, I +fear that the restraint of a prison may go ill with him."</p> + +<p>"How unnatural is this strife that makes us sorrow for our foes no less +than for our friends?" said Oriana. "I seem to be living in a strange +clime, and in an age that has passed away. And how long can friendship +endure this fiery ordeal? How many scenes of carnage like this last +terrible one can afflict the land, without wiping away all trace of +brotherhood, and leaving in the void the seed of deadly hate?"</p> + +<p>"If this repulse," said Beverly, "which your arms have suffered so early +in the contest, will awaken the North to a sense of the utter futility +of their design of subjugation, the blood that flowed at Manassas will +not have been shed in vain."</p> + +<p>"No, not in vain," replied Harold, "but its fruits will be other than +you anticipate. The North will be awakened, but only to gird up its +loins and put forth its giant strength. The shame of that one defeat +will be worth to us hereafter a hundred victories. The North has +been smitten in its sleep; it will arouse from its lethargy like a lion +awakening under the smart of the hunter's spear. Beverly, base no vain +hopes upon the triumph of the hour; it seals your doom, for it serves +but to throw into the scale against you the aroused energies that till +now have been withheld."</p> + +<p>"You count upon your resources, Harold, like a purse-proud millionaire, +who boasts his bursting coffers. We depend rather upon our determined +hearts and resolute right hands. Upon our power to endure, greater than +yours to inflict, reverse. Upon our united people, and the spirit that +animates them, which can never be subdued. The naked Britons could +defend their native soil against Caesar's legions, the veterans of a +hundred fights. Shall we do less, who have already tasted the fruits of +liberty so dearly earned? Harold, your people have assumed an impossible +task, and you may as well go cast your treasures into the sea as +squander them in arms to smite your kith and kin. We are Americans, like +yourselves; and when you confess that <i>you</i> can be conquered by invading +armies, then dream of conquering us."</p> + +<p>"And we will startle you from your dream with the crack of our Southern +rifles," added Oriana, somewhat maliciously, while Harold smiled at her +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"There is a great deal of romance in both your natures," he replied. +"But it is not so good as powder for a fighting medium. The spirit you +boast of will not support you long without the aid of good round +dollars."</p> + +<p>"Thank heaven we have less faith in their efficacy than you Northern +gold-worshippers," observed Oriana, with playful sarcasm. "While our +soldiers have good round corn-cakes, they will ask for no richer metals +than lead and steel. Have you never heard of the regiment of +Mississippians, who, having received their pay in government +certificates, to a man tore up the documents as they took up the line of +march, saying 'we do not fight for money?'"</p> + +<p>Harold smiled, thinking perhaps that nothing better could have been done +with the currency in question.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Beverly, "you are far out of the way in your estimate of +our resources. The South is strictly an agricultural country, and as +such, best able to support itself under the exhaustion consequent upon a +lengthened warfare, especially as it will remain in the attitude of +resistance to invasion. From the bosom of its prolific soil it can draw +its natural nourishment and retain its vigor throughout any period of +isolation, while you are draining your resources for the means of +providing an active aggressive warfare. The rallying of our white +population to the battle field will not interrupt the course of +agricultural pursuit, while every enlistment in the North will take one +man away from the tillage of the land or from some industrial +avocation."</p> + +<p>"Not so," replied Harold. "Our armies for the most part will be +recruited from the surplus population, and abundant hands will remain +behind for the purposes of industry."</p> + +<p>"At first, perhaps. But not after a few more such fields as were fought +on Sunday last. To carry out even a show of your project of subjugation, +you must keep a million of men in the field from year to year. Your +manufacturing interests will be paralyzed, your best customers shut out. +You will be spending enormously and producing little beyond the +necessities of consumption. We, on the contrary, will be producing as +usual, and spending little more than before."</p> + +<p>"Can your armies be fed, clothed, and equipped without expense?"</p> + +<p>"No. But all our means will be applied to military uses, and our +operations will be necessarily much less expensive than yours. In other +matters, we will forget our habits of extravagance. We will become, by +the law of necessity, economists in place of spendthrifts. We will +gather in rich harvests, but will stint ourselves to the bare +necessities of life, that our troops may be fed and clothed. The money +that our wealthy planters have been in the habit of spending yearly in +Northern cities and watering places, will be circulated at home. Some +fifty millions of Southern dollars, heretofore annually wasted in +fashionable dissipation, will thus be kept in our own pockets and out of +yours. The spendthrift sons of our planters, and their yet more +extravagant daughters, will be found studying economy in the rude school +of the soldier, and plying the needle to supply the soldiers' wants, in +place of drawing upon the paternal estates for frivolous enjoyments. Our +spending population will be on the battle-field, and the laborer will +remain in the cotton and corn-field. There will be suffering and +privation, it is true, but rest assured, Harold, we will bear it all +without a murmur, as our fathers did in the days of '76. And we will +trust to the good old soil we are defending to give us our daily bread."</p> + +<p>"Or if it should not," said Oriana, "we can at least claim from it, each +one, a grave, over which the foot of the invader may trample, but not +over our living bodies."</p> + +<p>"I have no power to convince you of your error," answered Harold. "Let +us speak of it no more, since it is destined that the sword must decide +between us. Beverly, you promised that I should go visit my wounded +comrades, who have not yet been removed. Shall we go now? I think it +would do me good to breathe the air."</p> + +<p>They prepared for the charitable errand, and Oriana went with them, with +a little basket of delicacies for the suffering prisoners.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was a fair morning in August, the twentieth day after the eventful +21st of July. Beverly was busy with his military duties, and Harold, who +had already fully recovered from his wounds, was enjoying, in company +with Oriana, a pleasant canter over the neighboring country. They came +to where the rolling meadow subsided into a level plain of considerable +extent on either side of the road. At its verge a thick forest formed a +dark background, beyond which the peering summits of green hills showed +that the landscape was rugged and uneven. Oriana slackened her pace, and +pointed out over the broad expanse of level country.</p> + +<p>"You see this plain that stretches to our right and left?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," replied Harold.</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I want you to mark it well," she continued, with a significant +glance; "and also that stretch of woodland yonder, beyond which, you +see, the country rises again."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a wild country, I should judge, like that to the left, where we +fought your batteries a month ago."</p> + +<p>"It is, indeed, a wild country as you say. There are ravines there, and +deep glens, fringed with almost impenetrable shrubbery, and deep down in +these recesses flows many a winding water-course, lined and overarched +with twisted foliage. Are you skillful at threading a woodland +labyrinth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; my surveying expeditions have schooled me pretty well. Why do you +ask? Do you want me to guide you through the wilderness, in search of a +hermit's cave."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps; women have all manner of caprices, you know. But I want you to +pay attention to those landmarks. Over yonder, there are some nooks that +would do well to hide a runaway. I have explored some of them myself, +for I passed some months here formerly, before the war. Poor Miranda's +family resided once in the little cottage where we are stopping now. +That is why I came from Richmond to spend a few days and be with +Beverly. I little thought that my coming would bring me to Miranda's +death-bed. Look there, now: you have a better view of where the forest +ascends into the hilly ground."</p> + +<p>"Why are you so topographical to-day? One would think you were tempting +me to run away," said Harold, smiling, as he followed her pointing +finger with his eyes.</p> + +<p>"No; I know you would not do that, because Beverly, you know, has +pledged himself for your safe-keeping."</p> + +<p>"Very true; and I am therefore a closer prisoner than if I were loaded +down with chains. When do you return to Richmond?"</p> + +<p>"I shall return on the day after to-morrow. Beverly has been charged +with an important service, and will be absent for several weeks. But he +can procure your parole, if you wish, and you can come to the old +manor-house again."</p> + +<p>"I think I shall not accept parole," replied Harold, thoughtfully. "I +must escape, if possible, for Arthur's sake. Beverly, of course, will +release himself from all obligations about me, before he goes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow; but you will be strictly guarded, unless you give +parole. See here, I have a little present for you; it is not very +pretty, but it is useful."</p> + +<p>She handed him a small pocket-compass, set in a brass case.</p> + +<p>"You can have this too," she added, drawing a small but strong and sharp +poignard from her bosom. "But you must promise me never to use it except +to save your life?"</p> + +<p>"I will promise that cheerfully," said Harold, as he received the +precious gifts.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow we will ride out again. We will have the same horses that +bear us so bravely now. Do you note how strong and well-bred is the +noble animal you ride?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harold, patting the glorious arch of his steed's neck. "He's +a fine fellow, and fleet, I warrant."</p> + +<p>"Fleet as the winds. There are few in this neighborhood that can match +him. Let us go home now. You need not tell Beverly that I have given you +presents. And be ready to ride to-morrow at four o'clock precisely."</p> + +<p>He understood her thoroughly, and they cantered homeward, conversing +upon indifferent subjects and reverting no further to their previous +somewhat enigmatical theme.</p> + +<p>On the following afternoon, at four o'clock precisely, the horses were +at the door, and five minutes afterward a mounted officer, followed by +two troopers, galloped up the lane and drew rein at the gateway.</p> + +<p>Harold was arranging the girths of Oriana's saddle, and she herself was +standing in her riding-habit beside the porch. The officer, dismounting, +approached her and raised his cap in respectful salute. He was young and +well-looking, evidently one accustomed to polite society.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Captain Haralson," said Oriana, with her most gracious +smile. "I am very glad to see you, although, as you bring your military +escort, I presume you come to see Beverly upon business, and not for the +friendly visit you promised me. But Beverly is not here."</p> + +<p>"I left him at the camp on duty, Miss Weems," replied the captain. "It +is my misfortune that my own duties have been too strict of late to +permit me the pleasure of my contemplated visit."</p> + +<p>"I must bide my time, captain. Let me introduce my friend. Captain Hare, +our prisoner, Mr. Haralson; but I know you will help me to make him +forget it, when I tell you that he was my brother's schoolmate and is +our old and valued friend."</p> + +<p>The young officer took Harold frankly by the hand, but he looked grave +and somewhat disconcerted as he answered:</p> + +<p>"Captain Hare, as a soldier, will forgive me that my duty compels me to +play a most ungracious part upon our first acquaintance. I have orders +to return with him to headquarters, where I trust his acceptance of +parole will enable me to avail myself of your introduction to show him +what courtesy our camp life admits, in atonement for the execution of my +present unpleasant devoir."</p> + +<p>"I shall esteem your acquaintance the more highly," answered Harold, +"that you know so well to blend your soldiership with kindness. I am +entirely at your disposition, sir, having only to apologize to Miss +Weems for the deprivation of her contemplated ride."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, we must not lose our ride," said Oriana. "It is perhaps the +last we shall enjoy together, and such a lovely afternoon. I am sure +that Captain Haralson is too gallant to interrupt our excursion."</p> + +<p>She turned to him with an arch smile, but he looked serious as he +replied:</p> + +<p>"Alas! Miss Weems, our gallantry receives some rude rebuffs in the harsh +school of the soldier. It grieves me to mar your harmless recreation, +but even that mortification I must endure when it comes in the strict +line of my duty."</p> + +<p>"But your duty does not forbid you to take a canter with us this +charming afternoon. Now put away that military sternness, which does not +become you at all, and help me to mount my pretty Nelly, who is getting +impatient to be off. And so am I. Come, you will get into camp in due +season, for we will go only as far as the Run, and canter all the way."</p> + +<p>She took his arm, and he assisted her to the saddle, won into +acquiescence by her graceful obstinacy, and, in fact, seeing but little +harm the tufted hills rolled into one another like the waves of a +swelling sea, their crests tipped with the slant rays of the descending +sun, and their graceful slopes alternating among purple shadows and +gleams of floating light.</p> + +<p>"It is indeed so beautiful," answered Harold, "that I should deem you +might be content to live there as of old, without inviting the terrible +companionship of Mars."</p> + +<p>"We do not invite it," said the young captain. "Leave us in peaceful +possession of our own, and no war cries shall echo among those hills. If +Mars has driven his chariot into our homes, he comes at your bidding, an +unwelcome intruder, to be scourged back again."</p> + +<p>"At our bidding! No. The first gun that was fired at Sumter summoned +him, and if he should leave his foot-prints deep in your soil, you have +well earned the penalty."</p> + +<p>"It will cost you, to inflict it, many such another day's work as that +at Manassas a month ago."</p> + +<p>The taunt was spoken hastily, and the young Southron colored as if +ashamed of his discourtesy, and added:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me my ungracious speech. It was my first field, sir, and I am +wont to speak of it too boastingly. I shall become more modest, I hope, +when I shall have a better right to be a boaster."</p> + +<p>"Oh," replied Harold, "I admit the shame of our discomfiture, and take +it as a good lesson to our negligence and want of purpose. But all that +has passed away. One good whipping has awakened us to an understanding +of the work we have in hand. Henceforth we will apply ourselves to the +task in earnest."</p> + +<p>"You think, then, that your government will prosecute the war more +vigorously than before?"</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly. You have heard but the prelude of a gale that shall sweep +every vestige of treason from the land."</p> + +<p>"Let it blow on," said the Southron, proudly. "There will be +counter-blasts to meet it. You cannot raise a tempest that will make us +bow our heads."</p> + +<p>"Do you not think," interrupted Oriana, "that a large proportion of your +Northern population are ready at least to listen to terms of +separation?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Harold, firmly. "Or if there be any who entertain such +thoughts, we will make them outcasts among us, and the finger of scorn +will be pointed at them as recreant to their holiest duty."</p> + +<p>"That is hardly fair," said Oriana. "Why should you scorn or maltreat +those who honestly believe that the doctrine in support of which so many +are ready to stake their lives and their fortunes, may be worthy of +consideration? Do you believe us all mad and wicked people in the +South—people without hearts, and without brains, incapable of forming +an opinion that is worth an argument? If there are some among you who +think we are acting for the best, and Heaven knows we are acting with +sincerity, you should give them at least a hearing, for the sake of +liberty of conscience. Remember, there are millions of us united in +sentiment in the South, and millions, perhaps, abroad who think with us. +How can you decide by your mere impulses where the right lies?"</p> + +<p>"We decide by the promptings of our loyal hearts, and by our reason, +which tells us that secession is treason, and that treason must be +crushed."</p> + +<p>"Heart and brain have been mistaken ere now," returned Oriana. "But if +you are a type of your countrymen, I see that hard blows alone will +teach you that God has given us the right to think for ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe, then," asked Haralson, "that there can be no peace +between us until one side or the other shall be exhausted and subdued?"</p> + +<p>"Not so," replied Harold. "I think that when we have retrieved the +disgrace of Bull Run and given you in addition, some wholesome +chastisement, your better judgment will return to you, and you will +accept forgiveness at our hands and return to your allegiance."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken," said the Southron. "Even were we ready to accept +your terms, you would not be ready to grant them. Should the North +succeed in striking some heavy blow at the South, I will tell you what +will happen; your abolitionists will seize the occasion of the peoples' +exultation to push their doctrine to a consummation. Whenever you shall +hear the tocsin of victory sounding in the North, then listen for the +echoing cry of emancipation—for you will hear it. You will see it in +every column of your daily prints; you will hear your statesmen urging +it in your legislative halls, and your cabinet ministers making it their +theme. And, most dangerous of all, you will hear your generals and +colonels, demagogues, at heart, and soldiers only of occasion, preaching +it to their battalions, and making converts of their subordinates by the +mere influences of their rank and calling. And when your military +chieftains harangue their soldiers upon political themes, think not of +our treason as you call it, but look well to the political freedom that +is still your own. With five hundred thousand armed puppets, moving at +the will of a clique of ambitious epauletted politicians and +experimentalists, you may live to witness, whether we be subdued or not, +a <i>coup d'etat</i> for which there is a precedent not far back in the +annals of republics."</p> + +<p>"Have you already learned to contemplate the danger that you are +incurring? Do you at last fear the monster that you have nursed and +strengthened in your midst? Well, if your slaves should rise against +you, surely you cannot blame us for the evil of your own creation."</p> + +<p>"It is the hope of your abolitionists, not our fear, that I am +rehearsing. Should your armies obtain a foothold on our soil, we know +that you will put knives and guns into the hands of our slaves, and +incite them to emulate the deeds of their race in San Domingo. You will +parcel out our lands and wealth to your victorious soldiery, not so much +as a reward for their past services, but to seal the bond between them +and the government that will seek to rule by their bayonets. You see, we +know the peril and are prepared to meet it. Should you conquer us, at +the same time you would conquer the liberties of the Northern citizen. +You will be at the mercy of the successful general whose triumph may +make him the idol of the armed millions that alone can accomplish our +subjugation. In the South, butchery and rapine by hordes of desperate +negroes—in the North anarchy and political intrigue, to be merged into +dictatorship and the absolutism of military power. Such would be the +results of your triumph and our defeat."</p> + +<p>"Those are the visions of a heated brain," said Harold. "I must confess +that your fighting is better than your logic. There is no danger to our +country that the loyalty of its people cannot overcome—as it will your +rebellion."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>They had now approached the edge of the plain which Oriana had pointed +out on the preceding day. The sun, which had been tinging the western +sky with gorgeous hues, was peering from among masses of purple and +golden clouds, within an hour's space of the horizon. Captain Haralson, +interested and excited by his disputation, had been riding leisurely +along by the side of his prisoner, taking but little note of the route +or of the lapse of time.</p> + +<p>"Cease your unprofitable argument," cried Oriana, "and let us have a +race over this beautiful plain. Look! 'tis as smooth as a race-course, +and I will lay you a wager, Captain Haralson, that my Nelly will lead +you to yonder clump, by a neck."</p> + +<p>She touched her horse lightly with the whip, and turned from the road +into the meadows.</p> + +<p>"It is late, Miss Weems," said the Southron, "and I must report at +headquarters before sundown. Besides, I am badly mounted, and it would +be but a sorry victory to distance me. I pray you, let us return."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Nelly is not breathed. I must have one fair run over this +field; and, gentlemen, I challenge you both to outstrip Nelly if you +can."</p> + +<p>With a merry shout, she struck the fleet mare smartly on the flank, and +the spirited animal, more at the sound of her voice than aroused by the +whip-lash, stretched forward her neck and sprang over the tufted level. +Harold waved his hand, as if in invitation, to his companion, and was +soon urging his powerful horse in the same direction. Haralson shouted +to them to stop, but they only turned their heads and beckoned to him +gaily, and plunging the spurs into the strong but heavy-hoofed charger +that he rode, he followed them as best he could. He kept close in their +rear very well at first, but he soon observed that he was losing +distance, and that the two swift steeds in front, that had been held in +check a little at the start, were now skimming the smooth meadow at a +tremendous pace.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" he cried, at the top of his lungs; but either they heard it not +or heeded it not, for they still swept on, bending low forward in the +saddle, almost side by side.</p> + +<p>A vague suspicion crossed his mind.</p> + +<p>"Halt, there!"</p> + +<p>Oriana glanced over her shoulder, and could see a sunray gleaming from +something that he held in his right hand. He had drawn a pistol from his +holster. She slackened her pace a little, and allowing Harold to take +the lead, rode on in the line between him and the pursuer. Harold turned +in his saddle. She could hear the tones of his voice rushing past her on +the wind.</p> + +<p>"Come no further with me, lest suspicion attach to yourself. The good +horse will bear me beyond pursuit. Remember, it is for Arthur's sake I +have consented you should make this sacrifice. God bless you! and +farewell!"</p> + +<p>A pistol-shot resounded in the air. Oriana knew it was fired but to +intimidate—the distance was too great to give the leaden messenger a +deadlier errand. Yet she drew rein, and waited, breathless with +excitement and swift motion, till Haralson came up. He turned one +reproachful glance upon her as he passed, and spurred on in pursuit. +Harold turned once again, to assure himself that she was unhurt, then +waved his hand, and urging his swift steed to the utmost, sped on toward +the forest which was now close at hand. The two troopers soon came +galloping up to where Oriana still sat motionless upon her saddle, +watching the race with strained eyes and heaving bosom.</p> + +<p>"Your prisoner has escaped," she said; "spur on in pursuit."</p> + +<p>She knew that it was of no avail, for Harold had already disappeared +among the mazes of the wood, and the sun was just dipping below the +horizon. Darkness would soon shroud the fugitive in its friendly mantle. +She turned Nelly's head homeward, and cantered silently away in the +gathering twilight.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>When Captain Haralson and the two troopers reached the verge of the +forest, they could trace for a short distance the hoof-prints of +Harold's horse, and followed them eagerly among the labyrinthine paths +which the fugitive had made through the tangled shrubbery and among the +briery thickets. But soon the gloom of night closed in upon them in the +depth of the silent wood, and they were left without a sign by which to +direct the pursuit. It was near midnight when they reached the further +edge of the forest, and there, throwing fantastic gleams of red light +among the shadows of the tall trees, they caught sight of what seemed to +be the glimmer of a watchfire. Soon after, the growl of a hound was +heard, followed by a deep-mouthed bay, and approaching cautiously, they +were hailed by the watchful sentinel. It was a Confederate picket, +posted on the outskirt of the forest, and Haralson, making himself +known, rode up to where the party, awakened by their approach, had +roused themselves from their blankets, and were standing with ready +rifles beside the blazing fagots.</p> + +<p>Haralson made known his errand to the officer in command, and the +sentries were questioned, but all declared that nothing had disturbed +their watch; if the fugitive had passed their line, he had succeeded in +eluding their vigilance.</p> + +<p>"I must send one of my men back to camp to report the escape," said +Haralson, "and will ask you to spare me a couple of your fellows to help +me hunt the Yankee down. Confound him, I deserve to lose my epaulettes +for my folly, but I'll follow him to the Potomac, rather than return to +headquarters without him."</p> + +<p>"Who was it?" asked the officer; "was he of rank?"</p> + +<p>"A captain, Captain Hare, well named for his fleetness; but he was +mounted superbly, and I suspect the whole thing was cut and dried."</p> + +<p>"Hare?" cried a hoarse voice; and the speaker, a tall, lank man, who had +been stretched by the fire, with the head of a large, gaunt bloodhound +in his lap, rose suddenly and stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Harold Hare, by G—d!" he exclaimed; "I know the fellow. Captain, I'm +with you on this hunt, and Bully there, too, who is worth the pair of +us. Hey, Bully?"</p> + +<p>The dog stretched himself lazily, and lifted his heavy lip with a grin +above the formidable fangs that glistened in the gleam of the watchfire.</p> + +<p>"You may go," said his officer, "but I can't spare another. You three, +with the dog, will be enough. Rawbon's as good a man as you can get, +captain. Set a thief to catch a thief, and a Yankee to outwit a Yankee. +You'd better start at once, unless you need rest or refreshment."</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied Haralson. "Let your man put something into his +haversack. Good night, lieutenant. Come along, boys, and keep your eyes +peeled, for these Yankees are slippery eels, you know."</p> + +<p>Seth Rawbon had already bridled his horse that was grazing hard by, and +the party, with the hound close at his master's side, rode forth upon +their search.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Harold had perceived the watchfire an hour earlier than his pursuers, +having obtained thus much the advantage of them by the fleetness of his +steed. He moved well off to the right, riding slowly and cautiously, +until another faint glimmer in that direction gave him to understand +that he was about equi-distant between two pickets of the enemy. He +dismounted at the edge of the forest, and securing his steed to the +branch of a tree, crept forward a few paces beyond the shelter of the +wood, and looked about earnestly in the darkness. Nothing could be seen +but the long, straggling line of the forest losing itself in the gloom, +and the black outlines, of the hills before him; but his quick ear +detected the sound of coming hoof and the ringing of steel scabbards. A +patrol was approaching, and fearful that his horse, conscious of the +neighborhood of his kind, might betray his presence with a sign of +recognition, he hurried back, and standing beside the animal, caressed +his glossy neck and won his attention with the low murmurs of his voice. +The good steed remained silent, only pricking up his ears and peering +through the branches as the patrol went clattering by. Harold waited +till the trampling of hoofs died away in the distance, and judging, from +their riding on without a challenge or a pause, that there was no sentry +within hail, he mounted and rode boldly out into the open country. The +stars were mostly obscured by heavy clouds, but here and there was a +patch of clear blue sky, and his eye, practised with many a surveying +night-tramp, discovered at last a twinkling guide by which to shape his +path in a northerly direction. It was a wild, rough country over which +he passed. With slow and careful steps, his sagacious steed moved on, +obedient to the rein, at one time topping the crest of a rugged hill, +and then winding at a snail's pace down the steep declivity, or +following the tortuous course of the streamlet through deep ravines, +whose jagged and bush-clad sides frowned down upon them on either side, +deepening the gloom of night.</p> + +<p>So all through the long hours of darkness, Harold toiled on his lonely +way, startled at times by the shriek of the night bird, and listening +intently to catch the sign of danger. At last the dawn, welcome although +it enhanced the chances of detection, blushed faintly through the +clouded eastern sky, and Harold, through the mists of morning, could see +a fair and rolling landscape stretched before him. The sky was overcast, +and presently the heavy drops began to fall. Consulting the little +friendly compass which Oriana had given him, he pushed on briskly, +turning always to the right or left, as the smoke, circling from some +early housewife's kitchen, betrayed the dangerous neighborhood of a +human habitation.</p> + +<p>Crossing a rivulet, he dismounted, and filled a small leathern bottle +that he carried with him, his good steed and himself meanwhile +satisfying their thirst from the cool wave. His appetite, freshened by +exercise, caused him to remember a package which Oriana's forethought +had provided for him on the preceding afternoon. He drew it from, his +pocket, and while his steed clipped the tender herbage from the +streamlet's bank, he made an excellent breakfast of the corn bread and +bacon, and other substantial edibles, which his kind friend had +bountifully supplied. Man and horse thus refreshed, he remounted, and +rode forward at a gallant pace, the strong animal he bestrode seeming as +yet to show no signs of fatigue.</p> + +<p>The rain was now falling in torrents, a propitious circumstance, since +it lessened the probabilities of his encountering the neighboring +inhabitants, most of whom must have sought shelter from the pelting +storm. He occasionally came up with a trudging negro, sometimes a group +of three or four, who answered timidly whenever he accosted them, and +glanced at him askance, but yet gave the information he requested. Once, +indeed, he could discern a troop of cavalry plashing along at same +distance through the muddy road, but he screened himself in a cornfield, +and was unobserved. His watch had been injured in the battle, and he had +no means, except conjecture, of judging of the hour; but by the flagging +pace of his horse, and his own fatigue, he knew that he must have been +many hours in the saddle. Surely the Potomac must be at hand! Yet there +was no sign of it, and over interminable hill and dale, through +corn-fields, and over patches of woodland and meadow, the weary steed +was urged on, slipping and sliding in the saturated soil. What was that +sound which caused his horse to prick up his ears and quicken his pace +with the instinct of danger? He heard it himself distinctly. It was the +baying of a bloodhound.</p> + +<p>"They are on my track!" muttered Harold; "and unless the river is at +hand, I am lost. Forward, sir! forward, good fellow!" he shouted +cheerily to his horse, and the noble animal, snorting and tossing his +silken mane, answered with an effort, and broke into a gallop.</p> + +<p>Down one hill into a little valley they pushed on, and up the ascent of +another. They reached the crest, and then, thank Heaven! there was the +broad river, winding through the valley. Dull and leaden hued as it +looked, reflecting the clouded sky, he had never hailed it so joyfully +when sparkling with sunbeams as he did at the close of that weary day. +Yet the danger was not past; up and down the stream he gazed, and far to +the right he could distinguish a group of tents peering from among the +foliage of a grove, and marking the site of a Confederate battery. But +just in front of him was a cheering sight; an armed schooner swung +lazily at anchor in the channel, and the wet bunting that drooped +listlessly over her stern, revealed the stars and stripes.</p> + +<p>The full tones of the bloodhound's voice aroused him to the necessity of +action; he turned in the saddle and glanced over the route he had come. +On the crest of the hill beyond that on which he stood, the forms of +three horsemen were outlined against the greyish sky. They distinguished +him at the same moment, for he could hear their shouts of exultation, +borne to him on the humid air.</p> + +<p>It was yet a full mile to the river bank, and his horse was almost +broken down with fatigue. Dashing his armed heels against the throbbing +flanks of the jaded animal, he rushed down the hill in a straight line +for the water. The sun was already below the horizon, and darkness was +coming on apace. As he pushed on, the shouts of his pursuers rang louder +upon his ear at every rod; it was evident that they were fresh mounted, +while his own steed was laboring, with a last effort, over the rugged +ground, stumbling among stones, and groaning at intervals with the +severity of exertion. He could hear the trampling behind him, he could +catch the words of triumph that seemed to be shouted almost in his very +ear. A bullet whizzed by him, and then another, and with each report +there came a derisive cheer. But it was now quite dark, and that, with +the rapid motion, rendered him comparatively fearless of being struck. +He spurred on, straining his eyes to see what was before him, for it +seemed that the ground in front became suddenly and curiously lost in +the mist and gloom. Just then, simultaneously with the report of a +pistol, he felt his good steed quiver beneath him; a bullet had reached +his flank, and the poor animal fell upon his knees and rolled over in +the agony of death.</p> + +<p>It was well that he had fallen; Harold, thrown forward a few feet, +touched the earth upon the edge of the rocky bank that descended +precipitously a hundred feet or more to the river—a few steps further, +and horse and rider would have plunged over the verge of the bluff.</p> + +<p>Harold, though bruised by his fall, was not considerably hurt; without +hesitation, he commenced the hazardous descent, difficult by day, but +perilous and uncertain in the darkness. Clinging to each projecting rock +and feeling cautiously for a foothold among the slippery ledges, he had +accomplished half the distance and could already hear the light plashing +of the wave upon the boulders below. He heard a voice above, shouting: +"Look out for the bluff there, we must be near it!"</p> + +<p>The warning came too late. There was a cry of terror—the blended voice +of man and horse, startling the night and causing Harold to crouch with +instinctive horror close to the dripping rock. There was a rush of wind +and the bounding by of a dark whirling body, which rolled over and over, +tearing over the sharp angles of the cliff, and scattering the loose +fragments of stone over him as he clung motionless to his support. Then +there was a dull thump below, and a little afterward a terrible moan, +and then all was still.</p> + +<p>Harold continued his descent and reached the base of the bluff in +safety. Through the darkness he could see a dark mass lying like a +shadow among the pointed stones, with the waves of the river rippling +about it. He approached it. There lay the steed gasping in the last +agony, and the rider beneath him, crushed, mangled and dead. He stooped +down by the side of the corpse; it was bent double beneath the quivering +body of the dying horse, in such a manner as must have snapped the spine +in twain. Harold lifted the head, but let it fall again with a shudder, +for his fingers had slipped into the crevice of the cleft skull and were +all smeared with the oozing brain. Yet, despite the obscurity and the +disfigurement, despite the bursting eyeballs and the clenched jaws +through which the blood was trickling, he recognized the features of +Seth Rawbon.</p> + +<p>No time for contemplation or for revery. There was a scrambling +overhead, with now and then a snarl and an angry growl. And further up, +he heard the sound of voices, labored and suppressed, as of men who were +speaking while toiling at some unwonted exercise. Harold threw off his +coat and boots, and waded out into the river. The dark hull of the +schooner could be seen looming above the gloomy surface of the water, +and he dashed toward it through the deepening wave. There was a splash +behind him and soon he could hear the puffing and short breathing of a +swimming dog. He was then up to his arm-pits in the water, and a few +yards further would bring him off his footing. He determined to wait the +onset there, while he could yet stand firm upon the shelving bottom. He +had not long to wait. The bloodhound made directly for him; he could see +his eyes snapping and glaring like red coals above the black water. +Harold braced himself as well as he could upon the yielding sand, and +held his poignard, Oriana's welcome gift, with a steady grasp. The dog +came so close that his fetid breath played upon Harold's cheek; then he +aimed a swift blow at his neck, but the brute dodged it like a fish. +Harold lost his balance and fell forward into the water, but in falling, +he launched out his left hand and caught the tough loose skin above the +animal's shoulder. He held it with the grasp of a drowning man, and over +and over they rolled in the water, like two sea monsters at their sport. +With all his strength, Harold drew the fierce brute toward him, +circling his neck tightly with his left arm, and pressed the sharp blade +against his throat. The hot blood gushed out over his hand, but he drove +the weapon deeper, slitting the sinewy flesh to the right and left, till +the dog ceased to struggle. Then Harold flung the huge carcass from him, +and struck out, breathless as he was, for the schooner. It was time, for +already his pursuers were upon the bank, aiming their pistol shots at +the black spot which they could just distinguish cleaving through the +water. But a few vigorous strokes carried him beyond their vision and +they ceased firing. Soon he heard the sound of muffled oars and a dark +shape seemed to rise from the water in front of him. The watch on board +the schooner, alarmed by the firing, had sent a boat's crew to +reconnoitre. Harold divined that it was so, and hailing the approaching +boat, was taken in, and ten minutes afterward, stood, exhausted but +safe, upon the schooner's deck.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>With the earliest opportunity, Harold proceeded to Washington, and +sought an interview with the President, in relation to Arthur's case. +Mr. Lincoln received him kindly, but could give no information +respecting the arrest or alleged criminality of his friend. "There were +so many and pressing affairs of state that he could find no room for +individual cases in his memory." However, he referred him to the +Secretary of War, with a request that the latter would look into the +matter. By dint of persistent inquiries at various sources, Harold +finally ascertained that the prisoner had a few days previously been +released, upon the assurance of the surgeon at the fort, that his +failing health required his immediate removal. Inquiry had been made +into the circumstances leading to his arrest; made too late, however, to +benefit the victim of a State mistake, whose delicate health had already +been too severely tried by the discomforts attendant upon his +situation. However, enough had been ascertained to leave but little +doubt as to his innocence; and Arthur, with the ghastly signs of a rapid +consumption upon his wan cheek, was dismissed from the portals of a +prison, which had already prepared him for the tomb.</p> + +<p>Harold hastened to Vermont, whither he knew the invalid had been +conveyed. It was toward the close of the first autumn day that he +entered the little village, upon whose outskirts was situated the farm +of his dying friend. The air was mild and balmy, but the voices of +nature seemed to him more hushed than usual, as if in mournful unison +with his own sad reveries. He had passed on foot from the village to the +farm-house, and when he opened the little white wicket, and walked along +the gravelled avenue that led to the flower-clad porch, the willows on +either side seemed to droop lower than willows are used to droop, and +the soft September air sighed through the swinging boughs, like the +prelude of a dirge.</p> + +<p>Arthur was reclining upon an easy-chair upon the little porch, and +beside him sat a venerable lady, reading from the worn silver-clasped +Bible, which rested on her lap. The lady rose when he approached; and +Arthur, whose gaze had been wandering among the autumn clouds, that +wreathed the points of the far-off mountains, turned his head languidly, +when the footsteps broke his dream.</p> + +<p>He did not rise. Alas! he was too weak to do so without the support of +his aged mother's arm, which had so often cradled him in infancy and had +now become the staff of his broken manhood. But a beautiful and happy +smile illumined his pale lips, and spread all over the thin and wasted +features, like sunlight gleaming on the grey surface of a church-yard +stone. He lifted his attenuated hand, and when Harold clasped it, the +fingers were so cold and deathlike that their pressure seemed to close +about his heart, compressing it, and chilling the life current in his +veins.</p> + +<p>"I knew that you would come, Harold. Although I read that you were +missing at the close of that dreadful battle, something told me that we +should meet again. Whether it was a sick man's fancy, or the foresight +of a parting soul, it is realized, for you are here. And you come not +too soon, Harold," he added, with a pressure of the feeble hand, "for I +am going fast—fast from the discords of earth—fast to the calm and +harmony beyond."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arthur, how changed you are!" said Harold, who could not keep from +fastening his gaze on the white, sunken cheek and hollow eyes of his +dying comrade. "But you will get better now, will you not—now that you +are home again, and we can nurse you?"</p> + +<p>Arthur shook his head with a mournful smile, and the fit of painful +coughing which overtook him answered his friend's vain hope.</p> + +<p>"No, Harold, no. All of earth is past to me, even hope. And I am ready, +cheerful even, to go, except for the sake of some loved ones that will +sorrow for me."</p> + +<p>He took his mother's hand as he spoke, and looked at her with touching +tenderness, while the poor dame brushed away her tears.</p> + +<p>"I have but a brief while to stay behind," she said, "and my sorrow will +be less, to know that you have ever been a good son to me. Oh, Mr. Hare, +he might have lived to comfort me, and close my old eyes in death, if +they had not been so cruel with him, and locked him within prison +walls. He, who never dreamed of wrong, and never injured willingly a +worm in his path."</p> + +<p>"Nay, mother, they were not unkind to me in the fort, and did what they +could to make me comfortable. But, Harold, it is wrong. I have thought +of it in the long, weary nights in prison, and I have thought of it when +I knew that death was beckoning me to come and rest from the thoughts of +earth. It is wrong to tamper with the sacred law that shields the +citizen. I believe that many a man within those fortress walls is as +innocent in the eyes of God as those who sent him there. Yet I accuse +none of willful wrong, but only of unconscious error. If the sacrifice +of my poor life could shed one ray upon the darkness, I would rejoice to +be the victim that I am, of a violated right. But all, statesmen, and +chieftains, and humble citizens, are being swept along upon the +whirlwinds of passion; all hearts are ablaze with the fiery magnificence +of war, and none will take warning till the land shall be desolate, and +thousands, stricken in their prime, shall be sleeping—where I shall +soon be—beneath the cold sod. I am weary, mother, and chill. Let us go +in."</p> + +<p>They bore him in and helped him to his bed, where he lay pale and +silent, seeming much worse from the fatigue of conversation and the +excitement of his meeting with his old college friend. Mrs. Wayne left +him in charge of Harold, while she went below to prepare what little +nourishment he could take, and to provide refreshment for her guest.</p> + +<p>Arthur lay, for a space, with his eyes closed, and apparently in sleep. +But he looked up, at last, and stretched out his hand to Harold, who +pressed the thin fingers, whiter than the coverlet on which they rested.</p> + +<p>"Is mother there?"</p> + +<p>"No, Arthur," replied Harold. "Shall I call her?"</p> + +<p>"No. I thought to have spoken to you, to-morrow, of something that has +been often my theme of thought; but I know not what strange feeling has +crept upon me; and perhaps, Harold—for we know not what the morrow may +bring—perhaps I had better speak now."</p> + +<p>"It hurts you, Arthur; you are too weak. Indeed, you must sleep now, and +to-morrow we shall talk."</p> + +<p>"No; now, Harold. It will not hurt me, or if it does, it matters little +now. Harold, I would fain that no shadow of unkindness should linger +between us twain when I am gone."</p> + +<p>"Why should there, Arthur? You have been my true friend always, and as +such shall I remember you."</p> + +<p>"Yet have I wronged you; yet have I caused you much grief and +bitterness, and only your own generous nature preserved us from +estrangement. Harold, have you heard from <i>her</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I have seen her, Arthur. During my captivity, she was my jailer; in my +sickness, for I was slightly wounded, she was my nurse. I will tell you +all about it to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow," replied Arthur, breathing heavily. "To-morrow! the +word sounds meaningless to me, like something whose significance has +left me. Is she well, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And happy?"</p> + +<p>"I think so, Arthur. As happy as any of us can be, amid severed ties and +dread uncertainties."</p> + +<p>"I am glad that she is well. Harold, you will tell her, for I am sure +you will meet again, you will tell her it was my dying wish that you two +should be united. Will you promise, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell her all that you wish, Arthur."</p> + +<p>"I seem to feel that I shall be happy in my grave, to know that, she +will be your wife; to know that my guilty love—for I loved her, Harold, +and it <i>was</i> guilt to love—to know that it left no poison behind, that +its shadow has passed away from the path that you must tread."</p> + +<p>"Speak not of guilt, my friend. There could live no crime between two +such noble hearts. And had I thought you would have accepted the +sacrifice, I could almost have been happy to have given her to you, so +much was her happiness the aim of my own love."</p> + +<p>"Yes, for you have a glorious heart, Harold; and I thank Heaven that she +cannot fail to love you. And you do not think, do you, Harold, that it +would be wrong for you two to speak of me when I am gone? I cannot bear +to think that you should deem it necessary to drive me from your +memories, as one who had stepped in between your hearts. I am sure she +will love you none the less for her remembrance of me, and therefore +sometimes you will talk together of me, will you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we will often talk of you, for what dearer theme to both could we +choose; what purer recollections could our memories cherish than of the +friend we both loved so much, and who so well deserved our love?"</p> + +<p>"And I am forgiven, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"Were there aught to be forgiven, I would forgive; but I have never +harbored in my most secret heart one trace of anger or resentment toward +you. Do not talk more, dear Arthur. To-morrow, perhaps, you will be +stronger, and then we will speak again. Here comes your mother, and she +will scold me for letting you fatigue yourself so much."</p> + +<p>"Raise me a little on the pillow, please. I seem to breathe more heavily +to-night. Thank you, I will sleep now. Good night, mother; I will eat +the gruel when I wake. I had rather sleep now. Good night, Harold!"</p> + +<p>He fell into a slumber almost immediately, and they would not disturb +him, although his mother had prepared the food he had been used to +take.</p> + +<p>"I think he is better to-night. He seems to sleep more tranquilly," said +Mrs. Wayne. "If you will step below, I have got a dish of tea for you, +and some little supper."</p> + +<p>Harold went down and refreshed himself at the widow's neat and +hospitable board, and then walked out into the evening, to dissipate, if +possible, the cloud that was lowering about his heart. He paced up and +down the avenue of willows, and though the fresh night air soothed the +fever of his brain, he could not chase away the gloom that weighed upon +his spirit. His mind wandered among mournful memories—the field of +battle, strewn with the dying and the dead; the hospital where brave +suffering men were groaning under the surgeon's knife; the sick chamber, +where his friend was dying.</p> + +<p>"And I, too," he thought, "have become the craftsman of Death, training +my arm and intellect to be cunning in the butchery of my fellows! +Wearing the instrument of torture at my side, and using the faculties +God gave me to mutilate His image. Yet, from the pulpit and the +statesman's chair, and far back through ages from the pages of history, +precept and example have sought to record its justification, under the +giant plea of necessity. But is it justified? Has man, in his +enlightenment, sufficiently studied to throw aside the hereditary errors +that come from the past, clothed in barbarous splendors to mislead +thought and dazzle conscience? Oh, for one glimpse of the Eternal Truth! +to teach us how far is delegated to mortal man the right to take away +the life he cannot give. When shall the sword be held accursed? When +shall man cease to meddle with the most awful prerogative of his God? +When shall our right hands be cleansed forever from the stain of blood, +and homicide be no longer a purpose and a glory upon earth? I shudder +when I look up at the beautiful serenity of this autumn sky, and +remember that my deed has loosened an immortal soul from its clay, and +hurled it, unprepared, into its Maker's presence. My conscience would +rebuke my hand, should it willfully shatter the sculptor's marble +wrought into human shape, or deface the artist's ideal pictured upon +canvas, or destroy aught that is beautiful and costly of man's ingenuity +and labor. And yet these I might replace with emptying a purse into the +craftsman's hand. But will my gold recall the vital spark into those +cold forms that, stricken by my steel or bullet, are rotting in their +graves? The masterpiece of God I have destroyed. His image have I +defaced; the wonderful mechanism that He alone can mold, and molded for +His own holy purpose, have I shattered and dismembered; the soul, an +essence of His own eternity, have I chased from its alotted earthly +home, and I rely for my justification upon—what?—the fact that my +victim differed from me in political belief. Must the hand of man be +raised against the workmanship of God because an earthly bond has been +sundered? Our statesmen teach us so, the ministers of our faith +pronounce it just; but, oh God! should it be wrong! When the blood is +hot, when the heart throbs with exaltation, when martial music swells, +and the war-steed prances, and the bayonets gleam in the bright +sunlight—then I think not of the doubt, nor of the long train of +horrors, the tears, the bereavements, the agonies, of which this martial +magnificence is but the vanguard. But now, in the still calmness of the +night, when all around me and above me breathes of the loveliness and +holiness of peace, I fear. I question nature, hushed as she is and +smiling in repose, and her calm beauty tells me that Peace is sacred; +that her Master sanctions no discords among His children. I question my +own conscience, and it tells me that the sword wins not the everlasting +triumph—that the voice of war finds no echo within the gates of +heaven."</p> + +<p>Ill-comforted by his reflections, he returned to the quiet dwelling, and +entered the chamber of his friend.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The sufferer was still sleeping, and Mrs. Wayne was watching by the +bedside. Harold seated himself beside her, and gazed mournfully upon the +pale, still features that already, but for the expression of pain that +lingered there, seemed to have passed from the quiet of sleep to the +deeper calm of death.</p> + +<p>"Each moment that I look," said Mrs. Wayne, wiping her tears away, "I +seem to see the grey shadows of the grave stealing over his brow. The +doctor was here a few moments before you came. The minister, too, sat +with him all the morning. I know from their kind warning that I shall +soon be childless. He has but a few hours to be with me. Oh, my son! my +son!"</p> + +<p>She bent her head upon the pillow, and wept silently in the bitterness +of her heart. Harold forebore to check that holy grief; but when the +old lady, with Christian resignation, had recovered her composure, he +pressed her to seek that repose which her aged frame so much needed.</p> + +<p>"I will sit by Arthur while you rest awhile; you have already overtasked +your strength with vigil. I will awake you should there be a change."</p> + +<p>She consented to lie upon the sofa, and soon wept herself to sleep, for +she was really quite broken down with watching. Everything was hushed +around, save the monotones of the insects in the fields, and the +breathing of those that slept. If there is an hour when the soul is +lifted above earth and communes with holy things, it is in the stillness +of the country night, when the solitary watcher sits beside the pillow +of a loved one, waiting the coming of the dark angel, whose footsteps +are at the threshold. Harold sat gazing silently at the face of the +invalid; sometimes a feeble smile would struggle with the lines of +suffering upon the pinched and haggard lineaments, and once from the +white lips came the murmur of a name, so low that only the solemn +stillness made the sound palpable—the name of Oriana.</p> + +<p>Toward midnight, Arthur's breathing became more difficult and painful, +and his features changed so rapidly that Harold became fearful that the +end was come. With a sigh, he stepped softly to the sofa, and wakened +Mrs. Wayne, taking her gently by the hand which trembled in his grasp. +She knew that she was awakened to a terrible sorrow—that she was about +to bid farewell to the joy of her old age. Arthur opened his eyes, but +the weeping mother turned from them; she could not bear to meet them, +for already the glassy film was veiling the azure depths whose light had +been so often turned to her in tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Give me some air, mother. It is so close—I cannot breathe."</p> + +<p>They raised him upon the pillow, and his mother supported the languid +head upon her bosom.</p> + +<p>"Arthur, my son! are you suffering, my poor boy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It will pass away. Do not grieve. Kiss me, dear mother."</p> + +<p>He was gasping for breath, and his hand was tightly clasped about his +mother's withered palm. She wiped the dampness from his brow, mingling +her tears with the cold dews of death.</p> + +<p>"Is Harold there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Arthur."</p> + +<p>"You will not forget? And you will love and guard her well?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Arthur."</p> + +<p>"Put away the sword, Harold; it is accursed of God. Is not that the +moonlight that streams upon the bed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Does it disturb you, Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"No. Let it come in. Let it all come in; it seems a flood of glory."</p> + +<p>His voice grew faint, till they could scarce hear its murmur. His +breathing was less painful, and the old smile began to wreathe about his +lips, smoothing the lines of pain.</p> + +<p>"Kiss me, dear mother! You need not hold me. I am well enough—I am +happy, mother. I can sleep now."</p> + +<p>He slept no earthly slumber. As the summer air that wafts a rose-leaf +from its stem, gently his last sigh stole upon the stillness of the +night. Harold lifted the lifeless form from the mother's arms, and when +it drooped upon the pillow, he turned away, that the parent might close +the lids of the dead son.</p> +<br /> + +<p>THE END.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12452 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8faa838 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12452 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12452) diff --git a/old/12452-8.txt b/old/12452-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c58f32 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12452-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6418 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession, by Benjamin Wood + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession + +Author: Benjamin Wood + +Release Date: May 27, 2004 [EBook #12452] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORT LAFAYETTE *** + + + + +Produced by Curtis Weyant, Stephen Hope and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +FORT LAFAYETTE + +OR +LOVE AND SECESSION + + +A Novel + +BY BENJAMIN WOOD + + +MDCCCLXII + +1862 + + + + + ----"Whom they please they lay in basest bonds." + _Venice Preserved._ + + * * * * * + + "O, beauteous Peace! + Sweet union of a state! what else but thou + Gives safety, strength, and glory to a people?" + _Thomson._ + + "Oh, Peace! thou source and soul of social life; + Beneath whose calm inspiring influence, + Science his views enlarges, art refines, + And swelling commerce opens all her ports; + Blest be the man divine, who gives us thee!" + _Thomson._ + + + "A peace is of the nature of a conquest; + For then both parties nobly are subdued, + And neither party loser." + _Shakspeare._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +There is a pleasant villa on the southern bank of the James River, a few +miles below the city of Richmond. The family mansion, an old fashioned +building of white stone, surrounded by a spacious veranda, and embowered +among stately elms and grave old oaks, is sure to attract the attention +of the traveller by its picturesque appearance, and the dreamy elegance +and air of comfort that pervade the spot. The volumes of smoke that roll +from the tall chimneys, the wide portals of the hall, flung open as if +for a sign of welcome, the merry chat and cheerful faces of the sable +household, lazily alternating their domestic labors with a sly romp or a +lounge in some quiet nook, these and other traits of the old Virginia +home, complete the picture of hospitable affluence which the stranger +instinctively draws as his gaze lingers on the grateful scene. The house +stands on a wooded knoll, within a bowshot of the river bank, and from +the steps of the back veranda, where creeping flowers form a perfumed +network of a thousand hues, the velvety lawn shelves gracefully down to +the water's edge. + +Toward sunset of one of the early days of April, 1861, a young girl +stood leaning upon the wicket of a fence which separated the garden from +the highway. She stood there dreamily gazing along the road, as if +awaiting the approach of some one who would be welcome when he came. The +slanting rays of the declining sun glanced through the honeysuckles and +tendrils that intertwined among the white palings, and threw a subdued +light upon her face. It was a face that was beautiful in repose, but +that promised to be more beautiful when awakened into animation. The +large, grey eyes were half veiled with their black lashes at that +moment, and their expression was thoughtful and subdued; but ever as the +lids were raised, when some distant sound arrested her attention, the +expression changed with a sudden flash, and a gleam like an electric +fire darted from the glowing orbs. Her features were small and +delicately cut, the nostrils thin and firm, and the lips most +exquisitely molded, but in the severe chiselling of their arched lines +betraying a somewhat passionate and haughty nature. But the rose tint +was so warm upon her cheek, the raven hair clustered with such luxuriant +grace about her brows, and the _petite_ and lithe figure was so +symmetrical at every point, that the impression of haughtiness was lost +in the contemplation of so many charms. + +Oriana Weems, the subject of our sketch, was an orphan. Her father, a +wealthy Virginian, died while his daughter was yet an infant, and her +mother, who had been almost constantly an invalid, did not long survive. +Oriana and her brother, Beverly, her senior by two years, had thus been +left at an early age in the charge of their mother's sister, a maiden +lady of excellent heart and quiet disposition, who certainly had most +conscientiously fulfilled the sacred trust. Oriana had returned but a +twelvemonth before from a northern seminary, where she had gathered up +more accomplishments than she would ever be likely to make use of in the +old homestead; while Beverly, having graduated at Yale the preceding +month, had written to his sister that she might expect him that very +day, in company with his classmate and friend, Arthur Wayne. + +She stood, therefore, at the wicket, gazing down the road, in +expectation of catching the first glimpse of her brother and his friend, +for whom horses had been sent to Richmond, to await their arrival at the +depot. So much was she absorbed in revery, that she failed to observe a +solitary horseman who approached from the opposite direction. He plodded +leisurely along until within a few feet of the wicket, when he quietly +drew rein and gazed for a moment in silence upon the unconscious girl. +He was a tall, gaunt man, with stooping shoulders, angular features, +lank, black hair and a sinister expression, in which cunning and malice +combined. He finally urged his horse a step nearer, and as softly as +his rough voice would admit, he bade: "Good evening, Miss Oriana." + +She started, and turned with a suddenness that caused the animal he rode +to swerve. Recovering her composure as suddenly, she slightly inclined +her head and turning from him, proceeded toward the house. + +"Stay, Miss Oriana, if you please." + +She paused and glanced somewhat haughtily over her shoulder. + +"May I speak a word with you?" + +"My aunt, sir, is within; if you have business, I will inform her of +your presence." + +"My business is with you, Miss Weems," and, dismounting, he passed +through the gate and stepped quickly to her side. + +"Why do you avoid me?" + +Her dark eye flashed in the twilight, and she drew her slight form up +till it seemed to gain a foot in height. + +"We do not seek to enlarge our social circle, Mr. Rawbon. You will +excuse me if I leave you abruptly, but the night dew begins to fall." + +She moved on, but he followed and placed his hand gently on her arm. +She shook it off with more of fierceness than dignity, and the man's +eyes fairly sought the ground beneath the glance she gave him. + +"You know that I love you," he said, in a hoarse murmur, "and that's the +reason you treat me like a dog." + +She turned her back upon him, and walked, as if she heard him not, along +the garden path. His brow darkened, and quickening his pace, he stepped +rudely before her and blocked the way. + +"Look you, Miss Weems, you have insulted me with your proud ways time +and time again, and I have borne it tamely, because I loved you, and +because I've sworn that I shall have you. It's that puppy, Harold Hare, +that has stepped in between you and me. Now mark you," and he raised his +finger threateningly, "I won't be so meek with him as I've been with +you." + +The girl shuddered slightly, but recovering, walked forward with a step +so stately and commanding, that Rawbon, bold and angry as he was, +involuntarily made way for her, and she sprang up the steps of the +veranda and passed into the hall. He stood gazing after her for a +moment, nervously switching the rosebush at his side with his heavy +horsewhip; then, with a muttered curse, he strode hastily away, and +leaping upon his horse, galloped furiously down the road. + +Seth Rawbon was a native of Massachusetts, but for some ten years +previously to the date at which our tale commences, he had been mostly a +resident of Richmond, where his acuteness and active business habits had +enabled him to accumulate an independent fortune. His wealth and +vigorous progressive spirit had given him a certain degree of influence +among the middle classes of the community, but his uncouth manner, and a +suspicion that he was not altogether free from the degradation of +slave-dealing, had, to his great mortification and in spite of his +persistent efforts, excluded him from social intercourse with the +aristocracy of the Old Dominion. He was not a man, however, to give way +to obstacles, and with characteristic vanity and self-reliance, he had, +shortly after her return from school, greatly astonished the proud +Oriana with a bold declaration of love and an offer of his hand and +fortune. Not intimidated by a sharp and decidedly ungracious refusal, he +had at every opportunity advocated his hopeless suit, and with so much +persistence and effrontery, that the object of his unwelcome passion had +been goaded from indifference to repugnance and absolute loathing. +Harold Hare, whose name he had mentioned with so much bitterness in the +course of the interview we have represented, was a young Rhode Islander, +who had, upon her brother's invitation, sojourned a few weeks at the +mansion some six months previously, while on his way to engage in a +surveying expedition in Western Virginia. He had promised to return in +good time, to join Beverly and his guest, Arthur Wayne, at the close of +their academic labors. + +A few moments after Rawbon's angry departure, the family carriage drove +rapidly up to the hall door, and the next instant Beverly was in his +sister's arms, and had been affectionately welcomed by his +old-fashioned, kindly looking aunt. As he turned to introduce his +friend, Arthur, the latter was gazing with an air of absent admiration +upon the kindled features of Oriana. The two young men were of the same +age, apparently about one-and-twenty; but in character and appearance +they were widely different. Beverly was, in countenance and manner, +curiously like his sister, except that the features were bolder and more +strongly marked. Arthur, on the contrary, was delicate in feature almost +to effeminacy. His brow was pale and lofty, and above the auburn locks +were massed like a golden coronet. His eyes were very large and blue, +with a peculiar softness and sadness that suited well the expression of +thoughtfulness and repose about his lips. He was taller than his friend, +and although well-formed and graceful, was slim and evidently not in +robust health. His voice, as he spoke in acknowledgment of the +introduction, was low and musical, but touched with a mournfulness that +was apparent even in the few words of conventional courtesy that he +pronounced. + +Having thus domiciliated them comfortably in the old hall, we will leave +them to recover from the fatigues of the journey, and to taste of the +plentiful hospitalities of Riverside manor. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Early in the fresh April morning, the party at Riverside manor were +congregated in the hall, doing full justice to Aunt Nancy's substantial +breakfast. + +"Oriana," said Beverly, as he paused from demolishing a well-buttered +batter cake, and handed his cup for a second supply of the fragrant +Mocha, "I will leave it to your _savoir faire_ to transform our friend +Arthur into a thorough southerner, before we yield him back to his Green +Mountains. He is already half a convert to our institutions, and will +give you not half so much trouble as that obstinate Harold Hare." + +She slightly colored at the name, but quietly remarked: + +"Mr. Wayne must look about him and judge from his own observation, not +my arguments. I certainly do not intend to annoy him during his visit, +with political discussions." + +"And yet you drove Harold wild with your flaming harangues, and gave +him more logic in an afternoon ride than he had ever been bored with in +Cambridge in a month." + +"Only when he provoked and invited the assault," she replied, smiling. +"But I trust, Mr. Wayne, that the cloud which is gathering above our +country will not darken the sunshine of your visit at Riverside manor. +It is unfortunate that you should have come at an unpropitious moment, +when we cannot promise you that perhaps there will not be some cold +looks here and there among the townsfolk, to give you a false impression +of a Virginia welcome." + +"Not at all, Oriana; Arthur will have smiles and welcome enough here at +the manor house to make him proof against all the hard looks in +Richmond. I prevailed on him to come at all hazards, and we are bound to +have a good time and don't want you to discourage us; eh, Arthur?" + +"I am but little of a politician, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "although I +take our country's differences much at heart. I shall surely not provoke +discussion with you, like our friend Harold, upon an unpleasant +subject, while you give me _carte blanche_ to enjoy your conversation +upon themes more congenial to my nature." + +She inclined her head with rather more of gravity than the nature of the +conversation warranted, and her lips were slightly compressed as she +observed that Arthur's blue eyes were fixed pensively, but intently, on +her face. + +The meal being over, Oriana and Wayne strolled on the lawn toward the +river bank, while the carriage was being prepared for a morning drive. +They stood on the soft grass at the water's edge, and as Arthur gazed +with a glow of pleasure at the beautiful prospect before him, his fair +companion pointed out with evident pride the many objects of beauty and +interest that were within view on the opposite bank. + +"Are you a sailor, Mr. Wayne? If so, we must have out the boat this +afternoon, and you will find some fairy nooks beyond the bend that will +repay you for exploring them, if you have a taste for a lovely +waterscape. I know you are proud of the grand old hills of your native +State, but we have something to boast of too in our Virginia scenery." + +"If you will be my helmswoman, I can imagine nothing more delightful +than the excursion you propose. But I am inland bred, and must place +myself at the mercy of your nautical experience." + +"Oh, I am a skillful captain, Mr. Wayne, and will make a good sailor of +you before you leave us. Mr. Hare will tell you that I am to be trusted +with the helm, even when the wind blows right smartly, as it sometimes +does even on that now placid stream. But with his memories of the +magnificent Hudson, he was too prone to quiz me about what he called our +pretty rivulet. You know him, do you not?" + +"Oh, well. He was Beverly's college-mate and mine, though somewhat our +senior." + +"And your warm friend, I believe?" + +"Yes, and well worthy our friendship. Somewhat high-tempered and +quick-spoken, but with a heart--like your brother's, Miss Weems, as +generous and frank as a summer day." + +"I do not think him high-tempered beyond the requisites of manhood," she +replied, with something like asperity in her tone. "I cannot endure +your meek, mild mannered men, who seem to forget their sex, and almost +make me long to change my own with them, that their sweet dispositions +may be better placed." + +He glanced at her with a somewhat surprised air, that brought a slight +blush to her cheek; but he seemed unconscious of it, and said, almost +mechanically: + +"And yet, that same high spirit, which you prize so dearly, had, in his +case, almost caused you a severe affliction." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Have you not heard how curiously Beverly's intimacy with Harold was +brought about? And yet it was not likely that he should have told you, +although I know no harm in letting you know." + +She turned toward him with an air of attention, as if in expectation. + +"It was simply this. Not being class-mates, they had been almost +strangers to each other at college, until, by a mere accident, an +argument respecting your Southern institutions led to an angry dispute, +and harsh words passed between them. Being both of the ardent +temperament you so much admire, a challenge ensued, and, in spite of my +entreaty and remonstrance, a duel. Your brother was seriously wounded, +and Harold, shocked beyond expression, knelt by his side as he lay +bleeding on the sward, and bitterly accusing himself, begged his +forgiveness, and, I need not add, received it frankly. Harold was +unremitting in his attentions to your brother during the period of his +illness, and from the day of that hostile meeting, the most devoted +friendship has existed between them. But it was an idle quarrel, Miss +Weems, and was near to have cost you an only brother." + +She remained silent for a few moments, and was evidently affected by the +recital. Then she spoke, softly as if communing with herself: "Harold is +a brave and noble fellow, and I thank God that he did not kill my +brother!" and a bright tear rolled upon her cheek. She dashed it away, +almost angrily, and glancing steadily at Arthur: + +"Do you condemn duelling?" + +"Assuredly." + +"But what would you have men do in the face of insult? Would you not +have fought under the same provocation?" + +"No, nor under any provocation. I hold too sacred the life that God has +given. With God's help, I shall not shed human blood, except in the +strict line of necessity and duty." + +"It is evident, sir, that you hold your own life most sacred," she said, +with a curl of her proud lip that was unmistakable. + +She did not observe the pallor that overspread his features, nor the +expression, not of anger, but of anguish, that settled upon his face, +for she had turned half away from him, and was gazing vacantly across +the river. There was an unpleasant pause, which was broken by the noise +of voices in alarm near the house, the trampling of hoofs, and the +rattle of wheels. + +The carriage had been standing at the door, while Beverly was arranging +some casual business, which delayed him in his rooms. While the +attention of the groom in charge had been attracted by some freak of his +companions, a little black urchin, not over five years of age, had +clambered unnoticed into the vehicle, and seizing the long whip, began +to flourish it about with all his baby strength. The horses, which were +high bred and spirited, had become impatient, and feeling the lash, +started suddenly, jerking themselves free from the careless grasp of the +inattentive groom. The sudden shout of surprise and terror that arose +from the group of idle negroes, startled the animals into a gallop, and +they went coursing, not along the road, but upon the lawn, straight +toward the river bank, which, in the line of their course, was +precipitous and rocky. As Oriana and Arthur turned at the sound, they +beheld the frightened steeds plunging across the lawn, and upon the +carriage seat the little fellow who had caused the mischief was +crouching bewildered and helpless, and screaming with affright. Oriana +clasped her hands, and cried tearfully: + +"Oh! poor little Pomp will be killed!" + +In fact the danger was imminent, for the lawn at that spot merged into a +rocky space, forming a little bluff which overhung the stream some +fifteen, feet. Oriana's hand was laid instinctively upon Arthur's +shoulder, and with the other she pointed, with a gesture of bewildered +anxiety, at the approaching vehicle. Arthur paused only long enough to +understand the situation, and then stepping calmly a few paces to the +left, stood directly in the path of the rushing steeds. + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne! no, no!" cried Oriana, in a tone half of fear and half +supplication; but he stood there unmoved, with the same quiet, mournful +expression that he habitually wore. The horses faltered somewhat when +they became conscious of this fixed, calm figure directly in their +course. They would have turned, but their impetus was too great, and +they swerved only enough to bring the head of the off horse in a line +with Arthur's body. As coolly as if he was taking up a favorite book, +but with a rapid movement, he grasped the rein below the bit with both +hands firmly, and swung upon it with his whole weight. The frightened +animal turned half round, stumbled, and rolled upon his side, his mate +falling upon his knees beside him; the carriage was overturned with a +crash, and little Pompey pitched out upon the greensward, unhurt. + +By this time, Beverly, followed by a crowd of excited negroes, had +reached the spot. + +"How is it, Arthur," said Beverly, placing his hand affectionately on +his friend's shoulder, "are you hurt?" + +"No," he replied, the melancholy look softening into a pleasant smile; +but as he rose and adjusted his disordered dress, he coughed +painfully--the same dry, hacking cough that had often made those who +loved him turn to him with an anxious look. It was evident that his +delicate frame was ill suited to such rough exercise. + +"We shall be cheated out of our ride this morning," said Beverly, "for +that axle has been less fortunate than you, Arthur; it is seriously +hurt." + +They moved slowly toward the house, Oriana looking silently at the grass +as she walked mechanically at her brother's side. When Arthur descended +into the drawing-room, after having changed his soiled apparel, he found +her seated there alone, by the casement, with her brow upon her hand. He +sat down at the table and glanced abstractedly over the leaves of a +scrap-book. Thus they sat silently for a quarter hour, when she arose, +and stood beside him. + +"Will you forgive me, Mr. Wayne?" + +He looked up and saw that she had been weeping. The haughty curl of the +lip and proud look from the eye were all gone, and her expression was of +humility and sorrow. She held out her hand to him with an air almost of +entreaty. He raised it respectfully to his lips, and with the low, +musical voice, sadder than ever before, he said: + +"I am sorry that you should grieve about anything. There is nothing to +forgive. Let us forget it." + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne, how unkind I have been, and how cruelly I have wronged +you!" + +She pressed his hand between both her palms for a moment, and looked +into his face, as if studying to read if some trace of resentment were +not visible. But the blue eyes looked down kindly and mournfully upon +her, and bursting into tears, she turned from him, and hurriedly left +the room. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +The incident related in the preceding chapter seemed to have effected a +marked change in the demeanor of Oriana toward her brother's guest. She +realized with painful force the wrong that her thoughtlessness, more +than her malice, had inflicted on a noble character, and it required all +of Arthur's winning sweetness of disposition to remove from her mind the +impression that she stood, while in his presence, in the light of an +unforgiven culprit. They were necessarily much in each other's company, +in the course of the many rambles and excursions that were devised to +relieve the monotony of the old manor house, and Oriana was surprised to +feel herself insensibly attracted toward the shy and pensive man, whose +character, so far as it was betrayed by outward sign, was the very +reverse of her own impassioned temperament. She discovered that the +unruffled surface covered an under-current of pure thought and exquisite +feeling, and when, on the bosom of the river, or in the solitudes of +the forest, his spirit threw off its reserve under the spell of nature's +inspiration, she felt her own impetuous organization rebuked and held in +awe by the simple and quiet grandeur that his eloquence revealed. + +One afternoon, some two weeks after his arrival at the Riverside manor, +while returning from a canter in the neighborhood, they paused upon an +eminence that overlooked a portion of the city of Richmond. There, upon +an open space, could be seen a great number of the citizens assembled, +apparently listening to the harangue of an orator. The occasional cheer +that arose from the multitude faintly reached their ears, and that mass +of humanity, restless, turbulent and excited, seemed, even at that +distance, to be swayed by some mighty passion. + +"Look, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "at this magnificent circle of gorgeous +scenery, that you are so justly proud of, that lies around you in the +golden sunset like a dream of a fairy landscape. See how the slanting +rays just tip the crest of that distant ridge, making it glow like a +coronet of gold, and then, leaping into the river beneath; spangle its +bosom with dazzling sheen, save where a part rests in the purple shadow +of the mountain. Look to the right, and see how those crimson clouds +seem bending from heaven to kiss the yellow corn-fields that stretch +along the horizon. And at your feet, the city of Richmond extends along +the valley." + +"We admit the beauty of the scene and the accuracy of the description," +said Beverly, "but, for my part, I should prefer the less romantic view +of some of Aunt Nancy's batter-cakes, for this ride has famished me." + +"Now look below," continued Arthur, "at that swarm of human beings +clustering together like angry bees. As we stand here gazing at the +glorious pageant which nature spreads out before us, one might suppose +that only for some festival of rejoicing or thanksgiving would men +assemble at such an hour and in such a scene. But what are the beauties +of the landscape, bathed in the glories of the setting-sun, to them? +They have met to listen to words of passion and bitterness, to doctrines +of strife, to denunciations and criminations against their fellow-men. +And, doubtless, a similar scene of freemen invoking the spirit of +contention that we behold yonder in that pleasant valley of the Old +Dominion, is being enacted at the North and at the South, at the East +and at the West, all over the length and breadth of our country. The +seeds of discord are being carefully and persistently gathered and +disseminated, and on both sides, these erring mortals will claim to be +acting in the name of patriotism. Beverly, do you surmise nothing +ominous of evil in that gathering?" + +"Ten to one, some stirring news from Charleston. We must ride over after +supper, Arthur, and learn the upshot of it." + +"And I will be a sybil for the nonce," said Oriana, with a kindling eye, +"and prophecy that Southern cannon have opened upon Sumter." + +In the evening, in despite of a threatening sky, Arthur and Beverly +mounted their horses and galloped toward Richmond. As they approached +the city, the rain fell heavily and they sought shelter at a wayside +tavern. Observing the public room to be full, they passed into a private +parlor and ordered some slight refreshment. In the adjoining tap-room +they could hear the voices of excited men, discussing some topic of +absorbing interest. Their anticipations were realized, for they quickly +gathered from the tenor of the disjointed conversation that the +bombardment of Fort Sumter had begun. + +"I'll bet my pile," said a rough voice, "that the gridiron bunting won't +float another day in South Carolina." + +"I'll go you halves on that, hoss, and you and I won't grow greyer nor +we be, before Old Virginny says 'me too.'" + +"Seth Rawbon, you'd better be packing your traps for Massachusetts. +She'll want you afore long." + +"Boys," ejaculated the last-mentioned personage, with an oath, "I left +off being a Massachusetts man twelve years ago. I'm with _you_, and you +know it. Let's drink. Boys, here's to spunky little South Carolina; may +she go in and win! Stranger, what'll you drink?" + +"I will not drink," replied a clear, manly voice, which had been silent +till then. + +"And why will you not drink?" rejoined the other, mocking the dignified +and determined tone in which the invitation was refused. + +"It is sufficient that I will not." + +"Mayhap you don't like my sentiment?" + +"Right." + +"Look you, Mr. Harold Hare, I know you well, and I think we'll take you +down from your high horse before you're many hours older in these parts. +Boys, let's make him drink to South Carolina." + +"Who is he, anyhow?" + +"He's an abolitionist; just the kind that'll look a darned sight more +natural in a coat of tar and feathers. Cut out his heart and you'll find +John Brown's picture there as large as life." + +At the mention of Harold's name, Arthur and Beverly had started up +simultaneously, and throwing open the bar-room door, entered hastily. +Harold had risen from his seat and stood confronting Rawbon with an air +in which anger and contempt were strangely blended. The latter leaned +with awkward carelessness against the counter, sipping a glass of +spirits and water with a malicious smile. + +"You are an insolent scoundrel," said Harold, "and I would horsewhip +you, if you were worth the pains." + +Rawbon looked around and for a second seemed to study the faces of +those about him. Then lazily reaching over toward Harold, he took him by +the arm and drew him toward the counter. + +"Say, you just come and drink to South Carolina." + +The heavy horsewhip in Harold's hand rose suddenly and descended like a +flash. The knotted lash struck Rawbon full in the mouth, splitting the +lips like a knife. In an instant several knives were drawn, and Rawbon, +spluttering an oath through the spurting blood that choked his +utterance, drew a revolver from its holster at his side. + +The entrance of the two young men was timely. They immediately placed +themselves in front of Harold, and Arthur, with his usual mild +expression, looked full in Rawbon's eye, although the latter's pistol +was in a line with his breast. + +"Stand out of the way, you two," shouted Rawbon, savagely. + +"What is the meaning of this, gentlemen?" said Beverly, quietly, to the +excited bystanders, to several of whom he was personally known. + +"Squire Weems," replied one among them, "you had better stand aside. +Rawbon has a lien on that fellow's hide. He's an abolitionist, anyhow, +and ain't worth your interference." + +"He is my very intimate friend, and I will answer for him to any one +here," said Beverly, warmly. + +"I will answer for myself," said Hare, pressing forward. + +"Then answer that!" yelled Rawbon, levelling and shooting with a rapid +movement. But Wayne's quiet eye had been riveted upon him all the while, +and he had thrown up the ruffian's arm as he pulled the trigger. + +Beverly's eyes flashed like live coals, and he sprang at Rawbon's +throat, but the crowd pressed between them, and for a while the utmost +confusion prevailed, but no blows were struck. The landlord, a sullen, +black-browed man, who had hitherto leaned silently on the counter, +taking no part in the fray, now interposed. + +"Come, I don't want no more loose shooting here!" and, by way of +assisting his remark, he took down his double-barrelled shot-gun and +jumped upon the counter. The fellow was well known for a desperate +though not quarrelsome character, and his action had the effect of +somewhat quieting the excited crowd. + +"Boys," continued he, "it's only Yankee against Yankee, anyhow; if +they're gwine to fight, let the stranger have fair play. Here stranger, +if you're a friend of Squire Weems, you kin have a fair show in my +house, I reckon, so take hold of this," and taking a revolver from his +belt, he passed it to Beverly, who cocked it and slipped it into +Harold's hand. Rawbon, who throughout the confusion had been watching +for the opportunity of a shot at his antagonist, now found himself front +to front with the object of his hate, for the bystanders had +instinctively drawn back a space, and even Wayne and Weems, willing to +trust to their friend's coolness and judgment, had stepped aside. + +Harold sighted his man as coolly as if he had been aiming at a squirrel. +Rawbon did not flinch, for he was not wanting in physical courage, but +he evidently concluded that the chances were against him, and with a +bitter smile, he walked slowly toward the door. Turning at the +threshold, he scowled for a moment at Harold, as if hesitating whether +to accept the encounter. + +"I'll fix you yet," he finally muttered, and left the room. A few +moments afterward, the three friends were mounted and riding briskly +toward Riverside manor. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Oriana, after awaiting till a late hour the return of her brother and +his friend, had retired to rest, and was sleeping soundly when the party +entered the house, after their remarkable adventure. She was therefore +unconscious, upon descending from her apartment in the morning, of the +addition to her little household. Standing upon the veranda, she +perceived what she supposed to be her brother's form moving among the +shrubbery in the garden. She hastened to accost him, curious to +ascertain the nature of the excitement in Richmond on the preceding +afternoon. Great was her astonishment and unfeigned her pleasure, upon +turning a little clump of bushes, to find herself face to face with +Harold Hare. + +He had been lost in meditation, but upon seeing her his brow lit up as a +midnight sky brightens when a passing cloud has unshrouded the full +moon. With a cry of joy she held out both her hands to him, which he +pressed silently for a moment as he gazed tenderly upon the upturned, +smiling face, and then, pushing back the black tresses, he touched her +white forehead with his lips. + +Arthur Wayne was looking out from his lattice above, and his eye chanced +to turn that way at the moment of the meeting. He started as if struck +with a sudden pang, and his cheek, always pale, became of an ashen hue. +Long he gazed with labored breath upon the pair, as if unable to realize +what he had seen; then, with a suppressed moan, he sank into a chair, +and leaned his brow heavily upon his hand. Thus for half an hour he +remained motionless; it was only after a second summons that he roused +himself and descended to the morning meal. + +At the breakfast table Oriana was in high spirits, and failed to observe +that Arthur was more sad than usual. Her brother, however, was +preoccupied and thoughtful, and even Harold, although happy in the +society of one he loved, could not refrain from moments of abstraction. +Of course the adventure of the preceding night was concealed from +Oriana, but it yet furnished the young men with matter for reflection; +and, coupled with the exciting intelligence from South Carolina, it +suggested, to Harold especially, a vision of an unhappy future. It was +natural that the thought should obtrude itself of how soon a barrier +might be placed between friends and loved ones, and the most sacred ties +sundered, perhaps forever. + +Miss Randolph, Oriana's aunt, usually reserved and silent, seemed on +this occasion the most inquisitive and talkative of the party. Her +interest in the momentous turn that affairs had taken was naturally +aroused, and she questioned the young men closely as to their view of +the probable consequences. + +"Surely," she remarked, "a nation of Christian people will choose some +alternative other than the sword to adjust their differences." + +"Why, aunt," replied Oriana, with spirit, "what better weapon than the +sword for the oppressed?" + +"I fear there is treason lurking in that little heart of yours," said +Harold, with a pensive smile. + +"I am a true Southerner, Mr. Hare; and if I were a man, I would take +down my father's rifle and march into General Beauregard's camp. We have +been too long anathematized as the vilest of God's creatures, because we +will not turn over to the world's cold charity the helpless beings that +were bequeathed into our charge by our fathers. I would protect my slave +against Northern fanaticism as firmly as I would guard my children from +the interference of a stranger, were I a mother." + +"The government against which you would rebel," said Harold, +"contemplates no interference with your slaves." + +"Why, Mr. Hare," rejoined Oriana, warmly, "we of the South can see the +spirit of abolitionism sitting in the executive chair, as plainly as we +see the sunshine on an unclouded summer day. As well might we change +places with our bondmen, as submit to this deliberate crusade against +our institutions. Mr. Wayne, you are a man not prone to prejudice, I +sincerely believe. Would you from your heart assert that this government +is not hostile to Southern slavery?" + +"I believe you are, on both sides, too sensitive upon the unhappy +subject. You are breeding danger, and perhaps ruin, out of abstract +ideas, and civil war will have laid the country waste before either +party will have awakened to a knowledge that no actual cause of +contention exists." + +"Perhaps," said Beverly, "the mere fact that the two sections are +hostile in sentiment, is the best reason why they should be hostile in +deed, if a separation can only be accomplished by force of arms." + +"And do you really fancy," said Harold, sharply, "that a separation is +possible, in the face of the opposition of twenty millions of loyal +citizens?" + +"Yes," interrupted Oriana, "in the face of the opposing world. We +established our right to self-government in 1776; and in 1861 we are +prepared to prove our power to sustain that right." + +"You are a young enthusiast," said Harold, smiling. "This rebellion will +be crushed before the flowers in that garden shall be touched with the +earliest frost." + +"I think you have formed a false estimate of the movement," remarked +Beverly, gravely; "or rather, you have not fully considered of the +subject." + +"Harold," said Arthur, sadly, "I regret, and perhaps censure, equally +with yourself, the precipitancy of our Carolinian brothers; but this is +not an age, nor a country, where six millions of freeborn people can be +controlled by bayonets and cannon." + +They were about rising from the table, when a servant announced that +some gentlemen desired to speak with Mr. Weems in private. He passed +into the drawing-room, and found himself in the presence of three men, +two of whom he recognized as small farmers of the neighborhood, and the +other as the landlord of a public house. With a brief salutation, he +seated himself beside them, and after a few commonplace remarks, paused, +as if to learn their business with him. + +After a little somewhat awkward hesitation, the publican broke silence. + +"Squire Weems, we've called about a rather unpleasant sort of business" + +"The sooner we transact it, then, the better for all, I fancy, +gentlemen." + +"Just so. Old Judge Weems, your father, was a true Virginian, squire, +and we know you are of the right sort, too." Beverly bowed in +acknowledgment of the compliment. "Squire, the boys hereabouts met down +thar at my house last night, to take into consideration them two +Northern fellows that are putting up with you." + +"Well, sir?" + +"We don't want any Yankee abolitionists in these parts." + +"Mr. Lucas, I have no guests for whom I will not vouch." + +"Can't help that, squire, them chaps is spotted, and the boys have voted +they must leave. As they be your company, us three've been deputized to +call on you and have a talk about it. We don't want to do nothing +unpleasant whar you're consarned, squire." + +"Gentlemen, my guests shall remain with me while they please to honor me +with their company, and I will protect them from violence or indignity +with my life." + +"There's no mistake but you're good grit, squire, but 'tain't no use. +You know what the boys mean to do, they'll do. Now, whar's the good of +kicking up a shindy about it?" + +"No good whatever, Mr. Lucas. You had better let this matter drop. You +know me too well to suppose that I would harbor dangerous characters. It +is my earnest desire to avoid everything that may bring about an +unnecessary excitement, or disturb the peace of the community; and I +shall therefore make no secret of this, interview to my friends. But +whether they remain with me or go, shall be entirely at their option. I +trust that my roof will be held sacred by my fellow-citizens." + +"There'll be no harm done to you or yours, Squire Weems, whatever +happens. But those strangers had better be out of these parts by +to-morrow, sure. Good morning, squire." + +"Good morning, gentlemen." + +And the three worthies took their departure, not fully satisfied whether +the object of their mission had been fulfilled. + +Beverly, anxious to avoid a collision with the wild spirits of the +neighborhood, which would be disagreeable, if not dangerous, to his +guests, frankly related to Harold and Arthur the tenor of the +conversation that had passed. Oriana was on fire with indignation, but +her concern for Harold's safety had its weight with her, and she wisely +refrained from opposing their departure; and both the young men, aware +that a prolongation of their visit would cause the family at Riverside +manor much inconvenience and anxiety, straightway announced their +intention of proceeding northward on the following morning. + +But it was no part of Seth Rawbon's purpose to allow his rival, Hare, to +depart in peace. The chastisement which he had received at Harold's +hands added a most deadly hate to the jealousy which his knowledge of +Oriana's preference had caused. He had considerable influence with +several of the dissolute and lawless characters of the vicinity, and a +liberal allowance of Monongahela, together with sundry pecuniary favors, +enabled him to depend upon their assistance in any adventure that did +not promise particularly serious results. Now the capture and mock trial +of a couple of Yankee strangers did not seem much out of the way to +these not over-scrupulous worthies; and Rawbon's cunning +representations as to the extent of their abolition proclivities were +scarcely necessary, in view of the liberality of his bribes, to secure +their cooperation in his scheme. + +Rawbon had been prowling about the manor house during the day, in the +hope of obtaining some clue to the intentions of the inmates, and +observing a mulatto boy engaged in arranging the boat for present use, +he walked carelessly along the bank to the old boat-house, and, by a few +adroit questions, ascertained that "Missis and the two gen'lmen gwine to +take a sail this arternoon." + +The evening was drawing on apace when Oriana, accompanied by Arthur and +Harold, set forth on the last of the many excursions they had enjoyed on +James River; but they had purposely selected a late hour, that on their +return they might realize the tranquil pleasures of a sail by moonlight. +Beverly was busy finishing some correspondence for the North, which he +intended giving into the charge of his friend Arthur, and he therefore +remained at home. Phil, a smart mulatto, about ten years of age, who was +a general favorite in the family and an especial pet of Oriana, was +allowed to accompany the party. + +It was a lovely evening, only cool enough to be comfortable for Oriana +to be wrapped in her woollen shawl. As the shadows of twilight darkened +on the silent river, a spirit of sadness was with the party, that vague +and painful melancholy that weighs upon the heart when happy ties are +about to be sundered, and loved ones are about to part. Arthur had +brought his flute, and with an effort to throw off the feeling of gloom, +he essayed a lively air; but it seemed like discord by association with +their thoughts. He ceased abruptly, and, at Oriana's request, chose a +more mournful theme. When the last notes of the plaintive melody had +been lost in the stillness of the night, there was an oppressive pause, +only broken by the rustle of the little sail and the faint rippling of +the wave. + +"I seem to be sailing into the shadows of misfortune," said Oriana, in a +low, sad tone. "I wish the moon would rise, for this darkness presses +upon my heart like the fingers of a sorrowful destiny. What a coward I +am to-night!" + +"A most obedient satellite," replied Arthur. "Look where she heralds +her approach by spreading a misty glow on the brow of yonder hill." + +"We have left the shadows of misfortune behind us," said Harold, as a +flood of moonlight flashed over the river, seeming to dash a million of +diamonds in the path of the gliding boat. + +"Alas! the fickle orb!" murmured Oriana; "it rises but to mock us, and +hides itself already in the bosom of that sable cloud. Is there not a +threat of rain there, Mr. Hare?" + +"It looks unpromising, at the best," said Harold; "I think it would be +prudent to return." + +Suddenly, little Phil, who had been lying at ease, with his head against +the thwarts, arose on his elbow and cried out: + +"Wha'dat?" + +"What is what, Phil?" asked Oriana. "Why, Phil, you have been dreaming," +she added, observing the lad's confusion at having spoken so vehemently. + +"Miss Orany, dar's a boat out yonder. I heard 'em pulling, sure." + +"Nonsense, Phil! you've been asleep." + +"By Gol! I heard 'em, sure. What a boat doing round here dis time o' +night? Dem's some niggers arter chickens, sure." + +And little Phil, satisfied that he had fathomed the mystery, lay down +again in a fit of silent indignation. The boat was put about, but the +wind had died away, and the sail flapped idly against the mast. Harold, +glad of the opportunity for a little exercise, shipped the sculls and +bent to his work. + +"Miss Oriana, put her head for the bank if you please. We shall have +less current to pull against in-shore." + +The boat glided along under the shadow of the bank, and no sound was +heard but the regular thugging and splashing of the oars and the voices +of insects on the shore. They approached a curve in the river where the +bank was thickly wooded, and dense shrubbery projected over the stream. + +"Wha' dat?" shouted Phil again, starting up in the bow and peering into +the darkness. A boat shot out from the shadow of the foliage, and her +course was checked directly in their path. The movement was so sudden +that, before Harold could check his headway, the two boats fouled. A +boathook was thrust into the thwarts; Arthur sprang to the bows to cast +it off. + +"Don't touch that," shouted a hoarse voice; and he felt the muzzle of a +pistol thrust into his breast. + +"None of that, Seth," cried another; and the speaker laid hold of his +comrade's arm. "We must have no shooting, you know." + +Arthur had thrown off the boathook, but some half-dozen armed men had +already leaped into the frail vessel, crowding it to such an extent that +a struggle, even had it not been madness against such odds, would have +occasioned great personal danger to Oriana. Both Arthur and Harold +seemed instinctively to comprehend this, and therefore offered no +opposition. Their boat was taken in tow, and in a few moments the entire +party, with one exception, were landed upon the adjacent bank. That +exception was little Phil. In the confusion that ensued upon the +collision of the two boats, the lad had quietly slipped overboard, and +swam ground to the stern where his mistress sat. "Miss Orany, hist! Miss +Orany!" + +The bewildered girl turned and beheld the black face peering over the +gunwale. + +"Miss Orany, here I is. O Lor'! Miss Orany, what we gwine to do?" + +She bowed her head toward him and whispered hurriedly, but calmly: + +"Mind what I tell you, Phil. You watch where they take us to, and then +run home and tell Master Beverly. Do you understand me, Phil?" + +"Yes, I does, Miss Orany;" and the little fellow struck out silently for +the shore, and crept among the bushes. + +Oriana betrayed no sign, of fear as she stood with her two companions on +the bank a few paces from their captors. The latter, in a low but +earnest tone, were disputing with one who seemed to act as their leader. + +"You didn't tell us nothing about the lady," said a brawny, +rugged-looking fellow, angrily. "Now, look here, Seth Rawbon, this ain't +a goin' to do. I'd cut your heart out, before I'd let any harm come to +Squire Weems's sister." + +"You lied to us, you long-headed Yankee turncoat," muttered another. +"What in thunder do you mean bringing us down here for kidnapping a +lady?" + +"Ain't I worried about it as much as you?" answered Rawbon. "Can't you +understand it's all a mistake?" + +"Well, now, you go and apologize to Miss Weems and fix matters, d'ye +hear?" + +"But what can we do?" + +"Do? Undo what you've done, and show her back into the boat." + +"But the two abo"-- + +"Damn them and you along with 'em! Come, boys, don't let's keep the lady +waiting thar." + +The party approached their prisoners, and one among them, hat in hand, +respectfully addressed Oriana. + +"Miss Weems, we're plaguy sorry this should 'a happened. It's a mistake +and none of our fault. Your boat's down thar and yer shan't be +merlested." + +"Am I free to go?" asked Oriana, calmly. + +"Free as air, Miss Weems." + +"With my companions?" + +"No, they remain with us," said Rawbon. + +"Then I remain with them," she replied, with dignity and firmness. + +The man who had first remonstrated with Rawbon, stepped up to him and +laid his hand heavily on his shoulder: + +"Look here, Seth Rawbon, you've played out your hand in this game, now +mind that. Miss Weems, you're free to go, anyhow, with them chaps or +not, just as you like." + +They stepped down the embankment, but the boats were nowhere to be seen. +Rawbon, anticipating some trouble with his gang, had made a pretence +only of securing the craft to a neighboring bush. The current had +carried the boats out into the stream, and they had floated down the +river and were lost to sight in the darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +There was no remedy but to cross the woodland and cornfields that for +about a league intervened between their position and the highway. They +commenced the tedious tramp, Arthur and Harold exerting themselves to +the utmost to protect Oriana from the brambles, and to guide her +footsteps along the uneven ground and among the decayed branches and +other obstacles that beset their path. Their rude companions, too, with +the exception of Rawbon, who walked moodily apart, seemed solicitous to +assist her with their rough attentions. To add to the disagreeable +nature of their situation, the rain began to fall in torrents before +they had accomplished one half of the distance. They were then in the +midst of a tract of wooded land that was almost impassable for a lady in +the darkness, on account of the yielding nature of the soil, and the +numerous ruts and hollows that were soon transformed into miniature +pools and streams. Oriana strove to treat the adventure as a theme for +laughter, and for awhile chatted gaily with her companions; but it was +evident that she was fast becoming weary, and that her thin-shod feet +were wounded by constant contact with the twigs and sharp stones that it +was impossible to avoid in the darkness. Her dress was torn, and heavy +with mud and moisture, and the two young men were pained to perceive +that, in spite of her efforts and their watchful care, she stumbled +frequently with exhaustion, and leaned heavily on their arms as she +labored through the miry soil. + +One of the party opportunely remembered a charcoal-burner's hut in the +vicinity, that would at least afford a rude shelter from the driving +storm. Several of the men hastened in search of it, and soon a halloo +not far distant indicated that the cabin, such as it was, had been +discovered. As they approached, they were surprised to observe rays of +light streaming through the cracks and crevices, as if a fire were +blazing within. It was an uninviting structure, hastily constructed of +unhewn logs, and upon ordinary occasions Oriana would have hesitated to +pass the threshold; but wet and weary as she was, she was glad to +obtain the shelter of even so poor a hovel. + +"There's a runaway in thar, I reckon," said one of the party. He threw +open the door, and several of the men entered. A fire of logs was +burning on the earthen floor, and beside it was stretched a negro's +form, wrapped in a tattered blanket. He started up as his unwelcome +visitors entered, and looked frightened and bewildered, as if suddenly +awakened from a sound sleep. However, he had no sooner laid eyes upon +Seth Rawbon than, with a yell of fear, he sprang with a powerful leap +through the doorway, leaving his blanket in the hands of those who +sought to grasp him. + +"That's my nigger Jim!" cried Rawbon, discharging his revolver at the +dusky form as it ran like a deer into the shadow of the woods. At every +shot, the negro jumped and screamed, but, from his accelerated speed, +was apparently untouched. + +"After him, boys!" shouted Rawbon. "Five dollars apiece and a gallon of +whisky if you bring the varmint in." + +With a whoop, the whole party went off in chase and were soon lost to +view in the darkness. + +Harold and Arthur led Oriana into the hut, and, spreading their coats +upon the damp floor, made a rude couch for her beside the fire. The poor +girl was evidently prostrated with fatigue and excitement, yet, with a +faint laugh and a jest as she glanced around upon the questionable +accommodations, she thanked them for their kindness, and seated herself +beside the blazing fagots. + +"This is a strange finale to our pleasure excursion," she said, as the +grateful warmth somewhat revived her spirits. "You must acknowledge me a +prophetess, gentlemen," she added, with a smile, "for you see that we +sailed indeed into the shadows of misfortune." + +"Should your health not suffer from this exposure," replied Arthur, "our +adventure will prove no misfortune, but only a theme for mirth +hereafter, when we recall to mind our present piteous plight." + +"Oh, I am strong, Mr. Wayne," she answered cheerfully, perceiving the +expression of solicitude in the countenances of her companions, "and +have passed the ordeal of many a thorough wetting with impunity. Never +fear but I shall fare well enough. I am only sorry and ashamed that all +our boasted Virginia hospitality can afford you no better quarters than +this for your last night among us." + +"Apart from the discomfort to yourself, this little episode will only +make brighter by contrast my remembrance of the many happy hours we have +passed together," said Arthur, with a tone of deep feeling that caused +Oriana to turn and gaze thoughtfully into the flaming pile. + +Harold said nothing, and stood leaning moodily against the wall of the +hovel, evidently a prey to painful thoughts. His mind wandered into the +glooms of the future, and dwelt upon the hour when he, perhaps, should +tread with hostile arms the soil that was the birthplace of his beloved. +"Can it be possible," he thought, "that between us twain, united as we +are in soul, there can exist such variance of opinion as will make her +kin and mine enemies, and perhaps the shedders of each other's blood!" + +There was a pause, and Oriana, her raiment being partially dried, +rested her head upon her arm and slumbered. + +The storm increased in violence, and the rain, pelting against the cabin +roof, with its weird music, formed a dismal accompaniment to the +grotesque discomfort of their situation. Arthur threw fresh fuel upon +the fire, and the crackling twigs sent up a fitful flame, that fell +athwart the face of the sleeping girl, and revealed an expression of +sorrow upon her features that caused him to turn away with a sigh. + +"Arthur," asked Harold, abruptly, "do you think this unfortunate affair +at Sumter will breed much trouble?" + +"I fear it," said Arthur, sadly. "Our Northern hearts are made of +sterner stuff than is consistent with the spirit of conciliation." + +"And what of Southern hearts?" + +"You have studied them," said Arthur, with a pensive smile, and bending +his gaze upon the sleeping maiden. + +Harold colored slightly, and glanced half reproachfully at his friend. + +"I cannot help believing," continued the latter, "that we are blindly +invoking a fatal strife, more in the spirit of exaltation than of calm +and searching philosophy. I am confident that the elements of union +still exist within the sections, but my instinct, no less than my +judgment, tells me that they will no longer exist when the +chariot-wheels of war shall have swept over the land. Whatever be the +disparity of strength, wealth and numbers, and whatever may be the +result of encounters upon the battle-field, such a terrible war as both +sides are capable of waging can never build up or sustain a fabric whose +cement must be brotherhood and kindly feeling. I would as soon think to +woo the woman of my choice with angry words and blows, as to reconcile +our divided fellow citizens by force of arms." + +"You are more a philosopher than a patriot," said Harold, with some +bitterness. + +"Not so," answered Arthur, warmly. "I love my country--so well, indeed, +that I cannot be aroused into hostility to any section of it. My reason +does not admit the necessity for civil war, and it becomes therefore a +sacred obligation with me to give my voice against the doctrine of +coercion. My judgment may err, or my sensibilities may be 'too full of +the milk of human kindness' to serve the stern exigencies of the crisis +with a Spartan's callousness and a Roman's impenetrability; but for you +to affirm that, because true to my own opinions, I must be false to my +country, is to deny me that independence of thought to which my country, +as a nation, owes its existence and its grandeur." + +"You boast your patriotism, and yet you seem to excuse those who seek +the dismemberment of your country." + +"I do not excuse them, but I would not have them judged harshly, for I +believe they have acted under provocation." + +"What provocation can justify rebellion against a government so +beneficent as ours?" + +"I will not pretend to justify, because I think there is much to be +forgiven on either side. But if anything can palliate the act, it is +that system of determined hostility which for years has been levelled +against an institution which they believe to be righteous and founded +upon divine precept. But I think this is not the hour for justification +or for crimination. I am convinced that the integrity of the Union can +only be preserved by withholding the armed hand at this crisis. And +pray Heaven, our government may forbear to strike!" + +"Would you, then, have our flag trampled upon with impunity, and our +government confessed a cipher, because, forsooth, you have a +constitutional repugnance to the severities of warfare? Away with such +sickly sentimentality! Such theories, if carried into practice, would +reduce us to a nation of political dwarfs and puny drivellers, fit only +to grovel at the footstools of tyrants." + +"I could better bear an insult to our flag than a deathblow to our +nationality. And I feel that our nationality would not survive a +struggle between the sections. There is no danger that we should be +dwarfed in intellect or spirit by practising forbearance toward our +brothers." + +"Is treason less criminal because it is the treason of brother against +brother? If so, then must a traitor of necessity go unpunished, since +the nature of the crime requires that the culprit be your countryman. +How hollow are your arguments when applied to existing facts!" + +"You forget that I counsel moderation as an expediency, as even a +necessity, for the public good. It were poor policy to compass the +country's ruin for the sake of bringing chastisement upon error." + +"That can be but a questionable love of country that would humiliate a +government to the act of parleying with rebellion." + +"My love of country is not confined to one section of the country, or to +one division of my countrymen. The lessons of the historic past have +taught me otherwise. If, when a schoolboy, poring over the pages of my +country's history, I have stood, in imagination, with Prescott at Bunker +Hill, and stormed with Ethan Allen at the gates of Ticonderoga, I have +also mourned with Washington at Valley Forge, and followed Marion and +Sumter through the wilds of Carolina. If I have fancied myself at work +with Yankee sailors at the guns, and poured the shivering broadside into +the Guerriere, I have helped to man the breastworks at New Orleans, and +seen the ranks that stood firm at Waterloo wavering before the blaze of +Southern rifles. If I have read of the hardy Northern volunteers on the +battle-plains of Mexico; I remember the Palmetto boys at Cherubusco, +and the brave Mississippians at Buena Vista. Is it a wonder, then, that +my heartstrings ache when I see the links breaking that bind me to such +memories? If I would have the Government parley awhile for the sake of +peace, even although the strict law sanction the bayonet and cannon, I +do it in the name of the sacred past, when the ties of brotherhood were +strong. I counsel not humiliation nor submission, but conciliation. I +counsel it, not only as an expedient, but as a tribute to the affinities +of almost a century. I love the Union too well to be willing that its +fate should be risked upon the uncertainties of war. I believe in my +conscience that the chances of its reconstruction depend rather upon +negotiation than upon battles. I may err, or you, as my opponent in +opinion, may err; for while I assume not infallibility for myself, I +deny it, with justice, to my neighbor. But I think as my heart and +intellect dictate, and my patriotism should not be questioned by one as +liable to error as myself. Should I yield my honest convictions upon a +question of such vital importance as my country's welfare, then indeed +should I be a traitor to my country and myself. But to accuse me of +questionable patriotism for my independence of thought, is, in itself, +treason against God and man." + +"I believe you sincere in your convictions, Arthur, not because touched +by your argument, but because I have known you too long and well to +believe you capable of an unworthy motive. But what, in the name of +common justice, would you have us do, when rebellion already thunders at +the gates of our citadels with belching cannon? Shall we sit by our +firesides and nod to the music of their artillery?" + +"I would have every American citizen, in this crisis, as in all others, +divest himself of all prejudice and sectional feeling: I would have him +listen to and ponder upon the opinions of his fellow citizens, and, with +the exercise of his best judgment, to discard the bad, and take counsel +from the good; then, I would have him conclude for himself, not whether +his flag has been insulted, or whether there are injuries to avenge, or +criminals to be punished, but what is best and surest to be done for +the welfare of his country. If he believe the Union can only be +preserved by war, let his voice be for war; if by peace, let him counsel +peace, as I do, from my heart; if he remain in doubt, let him incline to +peace, secure that in so doing he will best obey the teachings of +Christianity, the laws of humanity, and the mighty voice that is +speaking from the soul of enlightenment, pointing out the errors of the +past, and disclosing the secret of human happiness for the future." + +Arthur's eye kindled as he spoke, and the flush of excitement, to which +he was habitually a stranger, colored his pale cheek. Oriana had +awakened with the vehemence of his language, and gazing with interest +upon his now animated features, had been listening to his closing words. +Harold was about to answer, when suddenly the baying of a hound broke +through the noise of the storm. + +"That is a bloodhound!" exclaimed Harold with an accent of surprise. + +"Oh, no," said Oriana. "There are no bloodhounds in this neighborhood, +nor are they at all in use, I am sure, in Virginia." + +"I am not mistaken," replied Harold. "I have been made familiar with +their baying while surveying on the coast of Florida. Listen!" + +The deep, full tones came swelling upon the night wind, and fell with a +startling distinctness upon the ear. + +"It's my hound, Mister Hare," said a low, coarse voice at the doorway, +and Seth Rawbon entered the cabin and closed the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +"It's my hound. Miss Weems, and I guess he's on the track of that +nigger, Jim." + +Oriana started as if stung by a serpent, and rising to her feet, looked +upon the man with such an expression of contempt and loathing that the +ruffian's brow grew black with anger as he returned her gaze. Harold +confronted him, and spoke in a low, earnest tone, and between his +clenched teeth: + +"If you are a man you will go at once. This persecution of a woman is +beneath even your brutality. If you have an account with me, I will not +balk you. But relieve her from the outrage of your presence here." + +"I guess I'd better be around," replied Rawbon, coolly, as he leaned +against the door, with his hands in his coat pocket. "That dog is +dangerous when he's on the scent. You see, Miss Weems," he continued, +speaking over Harold's shoulder, "my niggers are plaguy troublesome, +and I keep the hound to cow them down a trifle. But he wouldn't hurt a +lady, I think--unless I happened to encourage him a bit, do you see." + +And the man showed his black teeth with a grin that caused Oriana to +shudder and turn away. + +Harold's brow was like a thunder-cloud, from beneath which his eyes +flashed like the lightning at midnight. + +"Your words imply a threat which I cannot understand. Ruffian! What do +mean?" + +"I mean no good to you, my buck!" + +His lip, with the deep cut upon it, curled with hate, but he still +leaned coolly against the door, though a quick ear might have caught a +click, as if he had cocked a pistol in his pocket. It was a habit with +Harold to go unarmed. Fearless and self-reliant by nature, even upon his +surveying expeditions in wild and out of the way districts, he carried +no weapon beyond sometimes a stout oaken staff. But now, his form +dilated, and the muscles of his arm contracted, as if he were about to +strike. Oriana understood the movement and the danger. She advanced +quietly but quickly to his side, and took his hand within her own. + +"He is not worth your anger, Harold. For my sake, Harold, do not provoke +him further," she added softly, as she drew him from the spot. + +At this moment the baying of the hound was heard, apparently in close +proximity to the hovel, and presently there was a heavy breathing and +snuffling at the threshold, followed by a bound against the door, and a +howl of rage and impatience. Nothing prevented the entrance of the +animal except the form of Rawbon, who still leaned quietly against the +rude frame, which, hanging upon leathern hinges, closed the aperture. + +There was something frightful in the hoarse snarling of the angry beast, +as he dashed his heavy shoulder against the rickety framework, and +Oriana shrank nervously to Harold's side. + +"Secure that dog!" he said, as, while soothing the trembling girl, he +looked over his shoulder reproachfully at Rawbon. His tone was low, and +even gentle, but it was tremulous with passion. But the man gave no +answer, and continued leering at them as before. + +Arthur walked to him and spoke almost in an accent of entreaty. + +"Sir, for the sake of your manhood, take away your dog and leave us." + +He did not answer. + +The hound, excited by the sound of voices, redoubled his efforts and his +fury. Oriana was sinking into Harold's arms. + +"This must end," he muttered. "Arthur, take her from me, she's fainting. +I'll go out and brain the dog." + +"Not yet, not yet," whispered Arthur. "For her sake be calm," and while +he received Oriana upon one arm, with the other he sought to stay his +friend. + +But Harold seized a brand from the fire, and sprang toward the door. + +"Stand from the door," he shouted, lifting the brand above Rawbon's +head. "Leave that, I say!" + +Rawbon's lank form straightened, and in an instant the revolver flashed +in the glare of the fagots. + +He did not shoot, but his face grew black with passion. + +"By God! you strike me, and I'll set the dog at the woman." + +At the sound of his master's voice, the hound set up a yell that seemed +unearthly. Harold was familiar with the nature of the species, and even +in the extremity of his anger, his anxiety for Oriana withheld his arm. + +"Look you here!" continued Rawbon, losing his quiet, mocking tone, and +fairly screaming with excitement, "do you see this?" He pointed to his +mangled lip, from which, by the action of his jaws while talking, the +plaster had just been torn, and the blood was streaming out afresh. "Do +you see this? I've got that to settle with you. I'll hunt you, by G--d! +as that hound hunts a nigger. Now see if I don't spoil that pretty face +of yours, some day, so that she won't look so sweet on you for all your +pretty talk." + +He seemed to calm abruptly after this, put up his pistol, and resumed +the wicked leer. + +"What would you have?" at last asked Arthur, mildly and with no trace of +anger in his voice. + +Rawbon turned to him with a searching glance, and, after a pause, said: + +"Terms." + +"What?" + +"I want to make terms with you." + +"About what?" + +"About this whole affair." + +"Well. Go on." + +"I know you can hurt me for this with the law, and I know you mean to. +Now I want this matter hushed up." + +Harold would have spoken, but Arthur implored him with a glance, and +answered: + +"What assurance can you give us against your outrages in the future?" + +"None." + +"None! Then why should we compromise with you?" + +"Because I've got the best hand to-night, and you know it. For her, you +know, you'll do 'most anything--now, won't you?" + +The fellow's complaisant smile caused Arthur to look away with disgust. +He turned to Harold, and they were conferring about Rawbon's strange +proposition, when Oriana raised her head suddenly and her face assumed +an expression of attention, as if her ear had caught a distant sound. +She had not forgotten little Phil, and knowing his sagacity and +faithfulness, she depended much upon his having followed her +instructions. And indeed, a moment after, the plashing of the hoofs of +horses in the wet soil could be distinctly heard. + +"Them's my overseer and his man, I guess," said Rawbon, with composure, +and he smiled again as he observed how effectually he had checked the +gleam of joy that had lightened Oriana's face. + +"'Twas he, you see, that set the dog on Jim's track, and now he's +following after, that's all." + +He had scarcely concluded, when a vigorous and excited voice was heard, +shouting: "There 'tis!--there's the hut, gentlemen! Push on!" + +"It is my brother! my brother!" cried Oriana, clasping her hands with +joy; and for the first time that night she burst into tears and sobbed +on Harold's shoulder. + +Rawbon's face grew livid with rage and disappointment. He flung open the +door and sprang out into the open air; but Oriana could see him pause +an instant at the threshold, and stooping, point into the cabin. The low +hissing word of command that accompanied the action reached her ear. She +knew what it meant and a faint shriek burst from her lips, more perhaps +from horror at the demoniac cruelty of the man, than from fear. The next +moment, a gigantic bloodhound, gaunt, mud-bespattered and with the froth +of fury oozing from his distended jaws, plunged through the doorway and +stood glaring in the centre of the cabin. + +Oriana stood like a sculptured ideal of terror, white and immovable; +Harold with his left arm encircled the rigid form, while his right hand +was uplifted, weaponless, but clenched with the energy of despair, till +the blood-drops burst from his palm. But Arthur stepped before them both +and fixed his calm blue eyes upon the monster's burning orbs. There was +neither fear, nor excitement, nor irresolution in that steadfast +gaze--it was like the clear, straightforward glance of a father checking +a wayward child--even the habitual sadness lingered in the deep azure, +and the features only changed to be cast in more placid mold. It was +the struggle of a brave and tranquil soul with the ferocious instincts +of the brute. The hound, crouched for a deadly spring, was fascinated by +this spectacle of the utter absence of emotion. His huge chest heaved +like a billow with his labored respiration, but the regular breathing of +the being that awed him was like that of a sleeping child. For full five +minutes--but it seemed an age--this silent but terrible duel was being +fought, and yet no succor came. Beverly and those who came with him must +have changed their course to pursue the fleeing Rawbon. + +"Lead her out softly, Harold," murmured Arthur, without changing a +muscle or altering his gaze. But the agony of suspense had been too +great--Oriana, with a convulsive shudder, swooned and hung like a corpse +upon Harold's arm. + +"Oh, God! she is dying, Arthur!" he could not help exclaiming, for it +was indeed a counterpart of death that he held in his embrace. + +Then only did Arthur falter for an instant, and the hound was at his +throat. The powerful jaws closed with a snap upon his shoulder, and you +might have heard the sharp fangs grate against the bone. The shock of +the spring brought Arthur to the ground, and man and brute rolled over +together, and struggled in the mud and gore. Harold bore the lifeless +girl out into the air, and returning, closed the door. He seized a +brand, and with both hands levelled a fierce blow at the dog's neck. The +stick shivered like glass, but the creature only shook his grisly head, +but never quit his hold. With his bare hand he seized the live coals +from the thickest of the fire and pressed them against the flanks and +stomach of the tenacious animal; the brute howled and quivered in every +limb, but still the blood-stained fangs were firmly set into the +lacerated flesh. With both hands clasped around the monster's throat, he +exerted his strength till the finger-bones seemed to crack. He could +feel the pulsations of the dog's heart grow fainter and slower, and +could see in his rolling and upheaved eyeballs that the death-pang was +upon him; but those iron jaws still were locked in the torn shoulder; +and as Harold beheld the big drops start from his friend's ashy brow, +and his eyes filming with the leaden hue of unconsciousness, the +agonizing thought came to him that the dog and the man were dying +together in that terrible embrace. + +It was then that he fairly sobbed with the sensation of relief, as he +heard the prancing of steeds close by the cabin-door; and Beverly, +entering hastily, with a cry of horror, stood one moment aghast as he +looked on the frightful scene. Then, with repeated shots from his +revolver, he scattered the dog's brains over Arthur's blood-stained +bosom. + +Harold arose, and, faint and trembling with excitement and exhaustion, +leaned against the wall. Beverly knelt by the side of the wounded man, +and placed his hand above his heart. Harold turned to him with an +anxious look. + +"He has but fainted from loss of blood," said Beverly. "Harold, where is +my sister?" + +As he spoke, Oriana, who, in the fresh night air, had recovered from her +swoon, pale and with dishevelled hair, appeared at the cabin-door. +Harold and Beverly sought to lead her out before her eyes fell upon +Arthur's bleeding form; but she had already seen the pale, calm face, +clotted with blood, but with the beautiful sad smile still lingering +upon the parted lips. She appeared to see neither Harold nor her +brother, but only those tranquil features, above which the angel of +Death seemed already to have brushed his dewy wing. She put aside +Beverly's arm, which was extended to support her, and thrust him away as +if he had been a stranger. She unloosed her hand from Harold's +affectionate grasp, and with a long and suppressed moan of intense +anguish, she kneeled down in the little pool of blood beside the +extended form, with her hands tightly clasped, and wept bitterly. + +They raised her tenderly, and assured her that Arthur was not dead. + +"Oh, no! oh, no!" she murmured, as the tears streamed out afresh, "he +must not die! He must not die for _me_! He is so good! so brave! A +child's heart, with the courage of a lion. Oh, Harold! why did you not +save him?" + +But as she took Harold's hand almost reproachfully, she perceived that +it was black and burnt, and he too was suffering; and she leaned her +brow upon his bosom and sobbed with a new sorrow. + +Beverly was almost vexed at the weakness his sister displayed. It was +unusual to her, and he forgot her weariness and the trial she had +passed. He had been binding some linen about Arthur's shoulder, and he +looked up and spoke to her in a less gentle tone. + +"Oriana, you are a child to-night. I have never seen you thus. Come, +help me with this bandage." + +She sighed heavily, but immediately ceased to weep, and said "Yes," +calmly and with firmness. Bending beside her brother, without faltering +or shrinking, she gave her white fingers to the painful task. + +In the stormy midnight, by the fitful glare of the dying embers, those +two silent men and that pale woman seemed to be keeping a vigil in an +abode of death. And the pattering rain and moan of the night-wind +sounded like a dirge. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Several gentlemen of the neighborhood, whom Beverly, upon hearing little +Phil's story, had hastily summoned to his assistance, now entered the +cabin, together with the male negroes of his household, who had mounted +the farm horses and eagerly followed to the rescue of their young +mistress. They had been detained without by an unsuccessful pursuit of +Rawbon, whose flight they had discovered, but who had easily evaded them +in the darkness. A rude litter was constructed for Arthur, but Oriana +declared herself well able to proceed on horseback, and would not listen +to any suggestion of delay on her account. She mounted Beverly's horse, +while he and Harold supplied themselves from among the horses that the +negroes had rode, and thus, slowly and silently, they threaded the +lonely forest, while ever and anon a groan from the litter struck +painfully upon their ears. + +Arrived at the manor house, a physician who had been summoned, +pronounced Arthur's hurt to be serious, but not dangerous. Upon +receiving this intelligence, Oriana and Harold were persuaded to retire, +and Beverly and his aunt remained as watchers at the bedside of the +wounded man. + +Oriana, despite her agitation, slept well, her rest being only disturbed +by fitful dreams, in which Arthur's pale face seemed ever present, now +smiling upon her mournfully, and now locked in the repose of death. She +arose somewhat refreshed, though still feverish and anxious, and walking +upon the veranda to breathe the morning air, she was joined by Harold, +with his hand in a sling, and much relieved by the application of a +poultice, which the skill of Miss Randolph had prepared. He informed her +that Arthur was sleeping quietly, and that she might dismiss all fears +as to his safety; and perhaps, if he had watched her closely, the +earnest expression of something more than pleasure with which she +received this assurance, might have given him cause for rumination. +Beverly descended soon afterward, and confirmed the favorable report +from the sick chamber, and Oriana retired into the house to assist in +preparing the morning meal. + +"Let us take a stroll by the riverside," said Beverly; "the air breathes +freshly after my night's vigil." + +"The storm has left none but traces of beauty behind," observed Harold, +as they crossed the lawn. The loveliness of the early morning was indeed +a pleasant sequel to the rude tempest of the preceding night. The +dewdrops glistened upon grass-blade and foliage, and the bosom of the +stream flashed merrily in the sunbeams. + +"It is," answered Beverly, "as if Nature were rejoicing that the war of +the elements is over, and a peace proclaimed. Would that the black cloud +upon our political horizon had as happily passed away." + +After a pause, he continued: "Harold, you need not fear to remain with +us a while longer. I am sure that Rawbon's confederates are heartily +ashamed of their participation in last night's outrage, and will on no +account be seduced to a similar adventure. Rawbon himself will not be +likely to show himself in this vicinity for some time to come, unless +as the inmate of a jail, for I have ordered a warrant to be issued +against him. The whole affair has resulted evidently from some +unaccountable antipathy which the fellow entertains against us." + +"I agree with you," replied Harold, "but still I think this is an +unpropitious time for the prolongation of my visit. There are events, I +fear, breeding for the immediate future, in which I must take a part. I +shall only remain with you a few days, that I may be assured of Arthur's +safety." + +"I will not disguise from you my impression that Virginia will withdraw +from the Union. In that case, we will be nominal enemies. God grant that +our paths may not cross each other." + +"Amen!" replied Harold, with much feeling. "But I do not understand why +we should be enemies. You surely will not lend your voice to this +rebellion?" + +"When the question of secession is before the people of my State, I +shall cast my vote as my judgment and conscience shall dictate. +Meanwhile I shall examine the issue, and, I trust, dispassionately. But +whatever may become of my individual opinion, where Virginia goes I go, +whatever be the event." + +"Would you uphold a wrong in the face of your own conscience?" + +"Oh, as to that, I do not hold it a question between right and wrong, +but simply of advisability. The right of secession I entertain no doubt +about." + +"No doubt as to the right of dismembering and destroying a government +which has fostered your infancy, developed your strength, and made you +one among the parts of a nation that has no peer in a world's history? +Is it possible that intellect and honesty can harbor such a doctrine!" + +"My dear Harold, you look at the subject as an enthusiast, and you allow +your heart not to assist but to control your brain. Men, by association, +become attached to forms and symbols, so as in time to believe that upon +their existence depends the substance of which they are but the signs. +Forty years ago, in the Hawaiian Islands, the death-penalty was +inflicted upon a native of the inferior caste, should he chance to pass +over the shadow of one of noble birth. So would you avenge an insult to +a shadow, while you allow the substance to be stolen from your grasp. +Our jewel, as freemen, is the right of self-government; the form of +government is a mere convenience--a machine, which may be dismembered, +destroyed, remodelled a thousand times, without detriment to the great +principle of which it is the outward sign." + +"You draw a picture of anarchy that would disgrace a confederation of +petty savage tribes. What miserable apology for a government would that +be whose integrity depends upon the caprice of the governed?" + +"It is as likely that a government should become tyrannical, as that a +people should become capricious. You have simply chosen an unfair word. +For _caprice_ substitute _will_, and you have my ideal of a true +republic." + +"And by that ideal, one State, by its individual act, might overturn the +entire system adopted for the convenience and safety of the whole." + +"Not so. It does not follow that the system should be overturned because +circumscribed in limit, more than that a business firm should +necessarily be ruined by the withdrawal of a partner. Observe, Harold, +that the General Government was never a sovereignty, and came into +existence only by the consent of each and every individual State. The +States were the sovereignties, and their connection with the Union, +being the mere creature of their will, can exist only by that will." + +"Why, Beverly, you might as well argue that this pencil-case, which +became mine by an act of volition on your part, because you gave it me, +ceases to be mine when you reclaim it." + +"If I had appointed you my amanuensis, and had transferred my pencil to +you simply for the purposes of your labor in my behalf, when I choose to +dismiss you, I should expect the return of my property. The States made +no gifts to the Federal Government for the sake of giving, but only +delegated certain powers for specific purposes. They never could have +delegated the power of coercion, since no one State or number of States +possessed that power as against their sister States." + +"But surely, in entering into the bonds of union, they formed a +contract with each other which should be inviolable." + +"Then, at the worst, the seceding States are guilty of a breach of +contract with the remaining States, but not with the General Government, +with which they made no contract. They formed a union, it is true. But +of what? Of sovereignties. How can those States be sovereignties which +admit a power above them, possessing the right of coercion? To admit the +right of coercion is to deny the existence of sovereignty." + +"You can find nothing in the Constitution to intimate the right of +secession." + +"Because its framers considered the right sufficiently established by +the very nature of the confederation. The fears upon the subject that +were expressed by Patrick Henry, and other zealous supporters of State +Rights, were quieted by the assurances of the opposite party, who +ridiculed the idea that a convention, similar to that which in each +State adopted the Constitution, could not thereafter, in representation +of the popular will, withdraw such State from the confederacy. You +have, in proof of this, but to refer to the annals of the occasion." + +"I discard the theory as utterly inconsistent with any legislative +power. We have either a government or we have not. If we have one, it +must possess within itself the power to sustain itself. Our chief +magistrate becomes otherwise a mere puppet, and our Congress a shallow +mockery, and the shadow only of a legislative body. Our nationality +becomes a word, and nothing more. Our place among the nations becomes +vacant, and the great Republic, our pride and the world's wonder, +crumbles into fragments, and with its downfall perishes the hope of the +oppressed of every clime. I wonder, Beverly, that you can coldly argue +against the very life of your country, and not feel the parricide's +remorse! Have you no lingering affection for the glorious structure +which our fathers built for and bequeathed to us, and which you now seek +to hurl from its foundations? Have you no pride and love for the brave +old flag that has been borne in the vanguard to victory so often, that +has shrouded the lifeless form of Lawrence, that has gladdened the +heart of the American wandering in foreign climes, and has spread its +sacred folds over the head of Washington, here, on your own native +soil?" + +"Yes, Harold, yes! I love the Union, and I love and am proud of the +brave old flag; I would die for either, and, although I reason with you +coldly, my soul yearns to them both, and my heart aches when I think +that soon, perhaps, they will no more belong to me. But I must sacrifice +even my pride and love to a stern sense of duty. So Washington did, when +he hurled his armed squadrons against the proud banner of St. George, +under which he had been trained in soldiership, and had won the laurel +of his early fame. He, too, no doubt, was not without a pang, to be +sundered from his share of Old England's glorious memories, the land of +his allegiance, the king whom he had served, the soil where the bones of +his ancestors lay at rest. It would cause me many a throb of agony to +draw my sword against the standard of the Republic--but I would do it, +Harold, if my conscience bade me, although my nearest friends, although +you, Harold--and I love you dearly--were in the foremost rank." + +"Where I will strive to be, should my country call upon me. But Heaven +forbid that we should meet thus, Beverly!" + +"Heaven forbid?" he replied, with a sigh, as he pressed Harold's hand. +"But yonder comes little Phil, running like mad, to tell us, doubtless, +that breakfast is cold with waiting for us." + +They retraced their steps, and found Miss Randolph and Oriana awaiting +their presence at the breakfast-table. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +During the four succeeding days, the house hold at Riverside manor were +much alarmed for Arthur's safety, for a violent fever had ensued, and, +to judge from the physician's evasive answers, the event was doubtful. +The family were unremitting in their attentions, and Oriana, quietly, +but with her characteristic self-will, insisted upon fulfilling her +share of the duties of a nurse. And no hand more gently smoothed the +sick man's pillow or administered more tenderly the cooling draught. It +seemed that Arthur's sleep was calmer when her form was bending over +him, and even when his thoughts were wandering and his eyes were +restless with delirium, they turned to welcome her as she took her +accustomed seat. Once, while she watched there alone in the twilight, +the open book unheeded in her hand, and her subdued eyes bent +thoughtfully upon his face as he slept unconscious of her presence, she +saw the white lips move and heard the murmur of the low, musical voice. +Her fair head was bent to catch the words--they were the words of +delirium or of dreams, but they brought a blush to her cheek. And yet +she bent her head still lower and listened, until her forehead rested on +the pillow, and when she looked up again with a sigh, and fixed her eyes +mechanically on the page before her, there was a trace of tears upon the +drooping lashes. + +He awoke from a refreshing slumber and it seemed that the fever was +gone; for his glance was calm and clear, and the old smile was upon his +lips. When he beheld Oriana, a slight flush passed over his cheek. + +"Are you indeed there, Miss Weems," he said, "or do I still dream? I +have been dreaming, I know not what, but I was very happy." He sighed, +and closed his eyes, as if he longed to woo back the vision which had +fled. She seemed to know what he had been dreaming, for while his cheek +paled again, hers glowed like an autumn cloud at sunset. + +"I trust you are much better, Mr. Wayne?" + +"Oh yes, much better. I fear I have been very troublesome to you all. +You have been very kind to me." + +"Do not speak so, Mr. Wayne," she replied, and a tear glistened in her +eyes. "If you knew how grateful we all are to you! You have suffered +terribly for my sake, Mr. Wayne. You have a brave, pure heart, and I +could hate myself with thinking that I once dared to wrong and to insult +it." + +"In my turn, I say do not speak so. I pray you, let there be no thoughts +between us that make you unhappy. What you accuse yourself of, I have +forgotten, or remember only as a passing cloud that lingered for a +moment on a pure and lovely sky. There must be no self-reproaches +between us twain, Miss Weems, for we must become strangers to each other +in this world, and when we part I would not leave with you one bitter +recollection." + +There was sorrow in his tone, and the young girl paused awhile and gazed +through the lattice earnestly into the gathering gloom of evening. + +"We must not be strangers, Mr. Wayne." + +"Alas! yes, for to be otherwise were fatal, at least to me." + +She did not answer, and both remained silent and thoughtful, so long, +indeed, that the night shadows obscured the room. Oriana arose and lit +the lamp. + +"I must go and prepare some supper for you," she said, in a lighter +tone. + +He took her hand as she stood at his bed-side and spoke in a low but +earnest voice: + +"You must forget what I have said to you, Miss Weems. I am weak and +feverish, and my brain has been wandering among misty dreams. If I have +spoken indiscreetly, you will forgive me, will you not?" + +"It is I that am to be forgiven, for allowing my patient to talk when +the doctor prescribes silence. I am going to get your supper, for I am +sure you must be hungry; so, good bye," she added gaily, as she smoothed +the pillow, and glided from the room. Oriana was silent and reserved for +some days after this, and Harold seemed also to be disturbed and ill at +ease. Some link appeared to be broken between them, for she did not look +into his eyes with the same frank, trusting gaze that had so often +returned his glance of tenderness, and sometimes even she looked +furtively away with heightened color, when, with some gentle +commonplace, his voice broke in upon her meditation. Arthur was now able +to sit for some hours daily in his easy-chair, and Oriana often came to +him at such times, and although they conversed but rarely, and upon +indifferent themes, she was never weary of reading to him, at his +request, some favorite book. And sometimes, as the author's sentiment +found an echo in her heart, she would pause and gaze listlessly at the +willow branches that waved before the casement, and both would remain +silent and pensive, till some member of the family entered, and broke in +upon their revery. + +"Come, Oriana," said Harold, one afternoon, "let us walk to the top of +yonder hillock, and look at this glorious sunset." + +She went for her bonnet and shawl, and joined him. They had reached the +summit of the hill before either of them broke silence, and then Oriana +mechanically made some commonplace remark about the beauty of the +western sky. He replied with a monosyllable, and sat down upon a +moss-covered rock. She plucked a few wild-flowers, and toyed with them. + +"Oriana, Arthur is much better now." + +"Much better, Harold." + +"I have no fears for his safety now. I think I shall go to-morrow." + +"Go, Harold?" + +"Yes, to New York. The President has appealed to the States for troops. +I am no soldier, but I cannot remain idle while my fellow citizens are +rallying to arms." + +"Will you fight, Harold?" + +"If needs be." + +"Against your countrymen?" + +"Against traitors." + +"Against me, perhaps." + +"Heaven forbid that the blood of any of your kin should be upon my +hands. I know how much you have suffered, dearest, with the thought that +this unhappy business may separate us for a time. Think you that the eye +of affection could fail to notice your dejection and reflective mood for +some days past?" + +Her face grew crimson, and she tore nervously the petals of the flower +in her hand. + +"Oriana, you are my betrothed, and no earthly discords should sever our +destinies or estrange our hearts. Why should we part at all. Be mine at +once, Oriana, and go with me to the loyal North, for none may tell how +soon a barrier may be set between your home and me." + +"That would be treason to my kindred and the home of my birth." + +"And to be severed from me--would it not be treason to your heart?" + +She did not answer. + +"I have spoken to Beverly about it, and he will not seek to control you. +We are most unhappy, Oriana, in our national troubles; why should we be +so in our domestic ties. We can be blest, even among the rude alarms of +war. This strife will soon be over, and you shall see the old homestead +once again. But while the dark cloud lowers, I call upon you, in the +name of your pledged affection, to share my fortunes with me, and bless +me with this dear hand." + +That hand remained passively within his own, but her bosom swelled with +emotion, and presently the large tears rolled upon her cheek. He would +have pressed her to his bosom, but she gently turned from him, and +sinking upon the sward, sobbed through her clasped fingers. + +"Why are you thus unhappy, dear Oriana?" he murmured, as he bent +tenderly above her. "Surely you do not love me less because of this +poison of rebellion that infects the land. And with love, woman's best +consolation, to be your comforter, why should you be unhappy?" + +She arose, pale and excited, and raised his hand to her lips. The act +seemed to him a strange one for an affianced bride, and he gazed upon +her with a troubled air. + +"Let us go home, Harold." + +"But tell me that you love me." + +She placed her two hands lightly about his neck, and looked up +mournfully but steadily into his face. + +"I will be your true wife, Harold, and pray heaven I may love you as you +deserve to be loved. But I am not well to-day, Harold. Let us speak no +more of this now, for there is something at my heart that must be +quieted with penitence and prayer. Oh, do not question me, Harold," she +added, as she leaned her cheek upon his breast; "we will talk with +Beverly, and to-morrow I shall be stronger and less foolish. Come, +Harold, let us go home." + +She placed her arm within his, and they walked silently homeward. When +they reached the house, Oriana was hastening to her chamber, but she +lingered at the threshold, and returned to Harold. + +"I am not well to-night, and shall not come down to tea. Good night, +Harold. Smile upon me as you were wont to do," she added, as she pressed +his hand and raised her swollen eyes, beneath whose white lids were +crushed two teardrops that were striving to burst forth. "Give me the +smile of the old time, and the old kiss, Harold," and she raised her +forehead to receive it. "Do not look disturbed; I have but a headache, +and shall be well to-morrow. Good night--dear--Harold." + +She strove to look pleasantly as she left the room, but Harold was +bewildered and anxious, and, till the summons came for supper, he paced +the veranda with slow and meditative steps. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The following morning was warm and springlike, and Arthur was +sufficiently strong and well to walk out a little in the open air. He +had been seated upon the veranda conversing with Beverly and Harold, +when the latter proposed a stroll with Beverly, with whom he wished to +converse in relation to his proposed marriage. As the beams of the +unclouded sun had already chased away the morning dew, and the air was +warm and balmy, Arthur walked out into the garden and breathed the +freshness of the atmosphere with the exhilaration of a convalescent +freed for the first time from the sick-room. Accidentally, or by +instinct, he turned his steps to the little grove which he knew was +Oriana's favorite haunt; and there, indeed, she sat, upon the rustic +bench, above which the drooping limbs of the willow formed a leafy +canopy. The pensive girl, her white hand, on which she leaned, buried +among the raven tresses, was gazing fixedly into the depths of the +clear sky, as if she sought to penetrate that azure veil, and find some +hope realized among the mysteries of the space beyond. The neglected +volume had fallen from her lap, and lay among the bluebells at her feet. +Arthur's feeble steps were unheard upon the sward, and he had taken his +seat beside her, before, conscious of an intruder, she started from her +dream. + +"The first pilgrimage of my convalescence is to your bower, my gentle +nurse. I have come to thank you for more kindness than I can ever repay, +except with grateful thoughts." + +She had risen when she became aware of his presence; and when she +resumed her seat, it seemed with hesitation, and almost an effort, as if +two impulses were struggling within her. But her pleasure to see him +abroad again was too hearty to be checked, and she timidly gave him the +hand which his extended palm invited to a friendly grasp. + +"Indeed, Mr. Wayne, I am very glad to see you so far recovered." + +"To your kind offices chiefly I owe it, and those of my good friends, +your brother and Harold, and our excellent Miss Randolph. My sick-room +has been the test of so much friendship, that I could almost be sinful +enough to regret the returning health which makes me no longer a +dependent on your care. But you are pale, Miss Weems. Or is it that my +eyes are unused to this broad daylight? Indeed, I trust you are not +ill?" + +"Oh, no, I am quite well," she answered; but it was with an involuntary +sigh that was in contrast with the words. "But you are not strong yet, +Mr. Wayne, and I must not let you linger too long in the fresh morning +air. We had best go in under shelter of the veranda." + +She arose, and would have led the way, but he detained her gently with a +light touch upon her sleeve. + +"Stay one moment, I pray you. I seem to breathe new life with this pure +air, and the perfume of these bowers awakens within me an inexpressible +and calm delight. I shall be all the better for one tranquil hour with +nature in bloom, if you, like the guardian nymph of these floral +treasures, will sit beside me." + +He drew her gently back into the seat, and looked long and earnestly +upon her face. She felt his gaze, but dared not return it, and her fair +head drooped like a flower that bends beneath the glance of a scorching +sun. + +"Miss Weems," he said at last, but his voice was so low and tremulous +that it scarce rose above the rustle of the swinging willow boughs, "you +are soon to be a bride, and in your path the kind Destinies will shower +blessings. When they wreathe the orange blossoms in your hair, and you +are led to the altar by the hand to which you must cling for life, if I +should not be there to wish you joy, you will not deem, will you, that I +am less your friend?" + +The fair head drooping yet lower was her only answer. + +"And when you shall be the mistress of a home where Content will be +shrined, the companion of your virtues, and over your threshold many +friends shall be welcomed, if I should never sit beside your +hearthstone, you will not, will you, believe that I have forgotten, or +that I could forget?" + +Still lower the fair head drooped, but she answered only with a falling +tear. + +"I told you the other day that we should be strangers through life, and +why, I must not tell, although perhaps your woman's heart may whisper, +and yet not condemn me for that which, Heaven knows, I have struggled +against--alas, in vain! Do not turn from me. I would not breathe a word +to you that in all honor you should not hear, although my heart seems +bursting with its longing, and I would yield my soul with rapture from +its frail casket, for but one moment's right to give its secret wings. I +will bid you farewell to-morrow"-- + +"To-morrow!" + +"Yes, the doctor says that the sea air will do me good, and an occasion +offers to-morrow which I shall embrace. It will be like setting forth +upon a journey through endless solitudes, where my only companions will +be a memory and a sorrow." + +He paused a while, but continued with an effort at composure. + +"Our hearts are tyrants to us, Miss Weems, and will not, sometimes, be +tutored into silence. I see that I have moved, but I trust not offended +you." + +"You have not offended," she murmured, but in so low a tone that perhaps +the words were lost in the faint moan of the swaying foliage. + +"What I have said," he continued earnestly, and taking her hand with a +gentle but respectful pressure, "has been spoken as one who is dying +speaks with his fleeting breath; for evermore my lips shall be shackled +against my heart, and the past shall be sealed and avoided as a +forbidden theme. We are, then, good friends at parting, are we not?" + +"Yes." + +"And, believe me, I shall be happiest when I think that you are +happy--for you will be happy." + +She sighed so deeply that the words were checked upon his lips, as if +some new emotion had turned the current of his thought. + +"Are you _not_ happy?" + +The tears that, in spite of her endeavor, burst from beneath the +downcast lids, answered him as words could not have done. He was +agitated and unnerved, and, leaning his brow against his hand, remained +silent while she wept. + +"Harold is a noble fellow," he said at last, after a long silence, and +when she had grown calmer, "and deserves to be loved as I am sure you +love him." + +"Oh, he has a noble heart, and I would die rather than cause him pain." + +"And you love him?" + +"I thought I loved him." + +The words were faint--hardly more than a breath upon her lips; but he +heard them, and his heart grew big with an undefined awe, as if some +vague danger were looming among the shadows of his destiny. Oriana +turned to him suddenly, and clasped his hand within her trembling +fingers. + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne! you must go, and never see me more. I am standing on the +brink of an abyss, and my heart bids me leap. I see the danger, and, oh +God! I have prayed for power to shun it. But Arthur, Arthur, if you do +not help me, I am lost. You are a man, an honest man, an honorable man, +who will not wrong your friend, or tempt the woman that cannot love you +without sin. Oh, save me from myself--from you--from the cruel wrong +that I could even dream of against him to whom I have sworn my woman's +faith. I am a child in your hands, Arthur, and in the face of the +reproaching Providence above me, I feel--I feel that I am at your mercy. +I feel that what you speak I must listen to; that should you bid me +stand beside you at the altar, I should not have courage to refuse. I +feel, oh God! Arthur, that I love you, and am betrothed to Harold. But +you are strong--you have courage, will, the power to defy such weakness +of the heart--and you will save me, for I know you are a good and honest +man." + +As she spoke, with her face upturned to him, and the hot tears rolling +down her cheeks, her fingers convulsively clasped about his hand, and +her form bending closer and closer toward him, till her cheek was +resting on his bosom, Arthur shuddered with intensity of feeling, and +from his averted eyes the scalding drops, that had never once before +moistened their surface, betrayed how terribly he was shaken with +emotion. + +But while she spoke, rapt as they were within themselves, they saw not +one who stood with folded arms beside the rustic bench, and gazed upon +them. + +"As God is my hope," said Arthur, "I will disarm temptation. Fear not. +From this hour we part. Henceforth the living and the dead shall not be +more estranged than we." + +He arose, but started as if an apparition met his gaze. Oriana knelt +beside him, and touched her lips to his hand in gratitude. An arm raised +her tenderly, and a gentle voice murmured her name. + +It was not Arthur's. + +Oriana raised her head, with a faint cry of terror. She gasped and +swooned upon the intruder's breast. + +It was Harold Hare who held her in his arms. + +Arthur, with folded arms, stood erect, but pale, in the presence of his +friend. His eye, sorrowful, yet calm, was fixed upon Harold, as if +awaiting his angry glance. But Harold looked only on the lifeless form +he held, and parting the tresses from her cold brow, his lips rested +there a moment with such a fond caress as sometimes a father gives his +child. + +"Poor girl!" he murmured, "would that my sorrow could avail for both. +Arthur, I have heard enough to know you would not do me wrong. Grief is +in store for us, but let us not be enemies." + +Mournfully, he gave his hand to Arthur, and Oriana, as she wakened from +her trance, beheld them locked in that sad grasp, like two twin statues +of despair. + +They led her to the house, and then the two young men walked out alone, +and talked frankly and tranquilly upon the subject. It was determined +that both should leave Riverside manor on the morrow, and that Oriana +should be left to commune with her own heart, and take counsel of time +and meditation. They would not grieve Beverly with their secret, at +least not for the present, when his sister was so ill prepared to bear +remonstrance or reproof. Harold wrote a kind letter for Oriana, in which +he released her from her pledged faith, asking only that she should take +time to study her heart, but in no wise let a sense of duty stand in the +way of her happiness. He took pains to conceal the depth of his own +affliction, and to avoid whatever she might construe as reproach. + +They would have gone without an interview with Oriana, but that would +have seemed strange to Beverly. However, Oriana, although pale and +nervous, met them in the morning with more composure than they had +anticipated. Harold, just before starting, drew her aside, and placed +the letter in her hand. + +"That will tell you all I would say, and you must read it when your +heart is strong and firm. Do not look so wretched. All may yet be well. +I would fain see you smile before I go." + +But though she had evidently nerved herself to be composed, the tears +would come, and her heart seemed rising to her throat and about to burst +in sobs. + +"I will be your true wife, Harold, and I will love you. Do not desert +me, do not cast me from you. I cannot bear to be so guilty. Indeed, +Harold, I will be true and faithful to you." + +"There is no guilt in that young heart," he answered, as he kissed her +forehead. "But now, we must not talk of love; hereafter, perhaps, when +time and absence shall teach us where to choose for happiness. Part from +me now as if I were your brother, and give me a sister's kiss. Would you +see Arthur?" + +She trembled and whispered painfully: + +"No, Harold, no--I dare not. Oh, Harold, bid him forget me." + +"It is better that you should not see him. Farewell! be brave. We are +good friends, remember. Farewell, dear girl." + +Beverly had been waiting with the carriage, and as the time was short, +he called to Harold. Arthur, who stood at the carriage wheel, simply +raised his hat to Oriana, as if in a parting salute. He would have given +his right hand to have pressed hers for a moment; but his will was iron, +and he did not once look back as the carriage whirled away. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +In the drawing-room of an elegant mansion in a fashionable quarter of +the city of New York, toward the close of April, a social party were +assembled, distributed mostly in small conversational groups. The head +of the establishment, a pompous, well-to-do merchant, stout, short, and +baldheaded, and evidently well satisfied with himself and his position +in society, was vehemently expressing his opinions upon the affairs of +the nation to an attentive audience of two or three elderly business +men, with a ponderous earnestness that proved him, in his own +estimation, as much _au fait_ in political affairs as in the routine of +his counting-room. An individual of middle age, a man of the world, +apparently, who was seated at a side-table, carelessly glancing over a +book of engravings, was the only one who occasionally exasperated the +pompous gentleman with contradictions or ill-timed interruptions. + +"The government must be sustained," said the stout gentleman, "and we, +the merchants of the North, will do it. It is money, sir, money," he +continued, unconsciously rattling the coin in his breeches pocket, "that +settles every question at the present day, and our money will bring +these beggarly rebels to their senses. They can't do without us, sir. +They would be ruined in six months, if shut out from commercial +intercourse with the North." + +"How long before you would be ruined by the operations of the same +cause?" inquired the individual at the side-table. + +"Sir, we of the North hold the wealth of the country in our pockets. +They can't fight against our money--they can't do it, sir." + +"Your ancestors fought against money, and fought passably well." + +"Yes, sir, for the great principles of human liberty." + +"Which these rebels believe they are fighting for. You have need of all +your money to keep a respectable army in the field. These Southerners +may have to fight in rags, as insurgents generally do: witness the +struggle of your Revolution; but until you lay waste their corn-fields +and drive off their cattle, they will have full stomachs, and that, +after all, is the first consideration." + +"You are an alien, sir, a foreigner; you know nothing of our great +institutions; you know nothing of the wealth of the North, and the +spirit of the people." + +"I see a great deal of bunting in the streets, and hear any quantity of +declamation at your popular gatherings. But as I journeyed northward +from New Orleans, I saw the same in the South--perhaps more of it." + +"And could not distinguish between the frenzy of treason and the +enthusiasm of patriotism?" + +"Not at all; except that treason seemed more earnest and unanimous." + +"You have seen with the eyes of an Englishman--of one hostile to our +institutions." + +"Oh, no; as a man of the world, a traveller, without prejudice or +passion, receiving impressions and noting them. I like your country; I +like your people. I have observed foibles in the North and in the South, +but there is an under-current of strong feeling and good sense which I +have noted and admired. I think your quarrel is one of foibles--one +conceived in the spirit of petulance, and about to be prosecuted in the +spirit of exaltation. I believe the professed mutual hatred of the +sections to be superficial, and that it could be cancelled. It is +fostered by the bitterness of fanatics, assisted by a very natural +disinclination on the part of the masses to yield a disputed point. If +hostilities should cease to-morrow, you would be better friends than +ever." + +"But the principle, sir! The right of the thing, and the wrong of the +thing! Can we parley with traitors? Can we negotiate with armed +rebellion? Is it not our paramount duty to set at rest forever the +doctrine of secession?" + +"As a matter of policy, perhaps. But as a right, I doubt it. Your +government I look upon as a mere agency appointed by contracting parties +to transact certain affairs for their convenience. Should one or more of +those contracting parties, sovereignties in themselves, hold it to their +interest to transact their business without the assistance of an agent, +I cannot perceive that the right can be denied by any provision of the +contract. In your case, the employers have dismissed their agent, who +seeks to reinstate the office by force of arms. As justly might my +lawyer, when I no longer need his services, attempt to coerce me into a +continuance of business relations, by invading my residence with a +loaded pistol. The States, without extinguishing their sovereignty, +created the Federal Government; it is the child of State legislation, +and now the child seeks to chastise and control the parent. The General +Government can possess no inherent or self-created function; its power, +its very existence, were granted for certain uses. As regards your +State's connection with that Government, no other State has the right to +interfere; but as for another State's connection with it, the power that +made it can unmake." + +"So you would have the government quietly acquiesce in the robbery of +public property, the occupation of Federal strongholds and the seizure +of ships and revenues in which they have but a share?" + +"If, by the necessity of the case, the seceded States hold in their +possession more than their share of public property, a division should +be made by arbitration, as in other cases where a distribution of common +property is required. It may have been a wrong and an insult to bombard +Fort Sumter and haul down the Federal flag, but that does not establish +a right on the part of the Federal Government to coerce the wrong-doing +States into a union with the others. And that, I take it, is the avowed +purpose of your administration." + +"Yes, and that purpose will be fulfilled. We have the money to do it, +and we will do it, sir." + +A tall, thin gentleman, with a white cravat and a bilious complexion, +approached the party from a different part of the room. + +"It can't be done with money, Mr. Pursely," said the new comer, "Unless +the great, the divine principle of universal human liberty is invoked. +An offended but merciful Providence has given the people this chance for +redemption, in the opportunity to strike the shackle from the slave. I +hold the war a blessing to the nation and to humanity, in that it will +cleanse the land from its curse of slavery. It is an invitation from God +to wipe away the record of our past tardiness and tolerance, by striking +at the great sin with fire and sword. The blood of millions is +nothing--the woe, the lamentation, the ruin of the land is nothing--the +overthrow of the Union itself is nothing, if we can but win God's smile +by setting a brand in the hand of the bondman to scourge his master. But +assuredly unless we arouse the slave to seize the torch and the dagger, +and avenge the wrongs of his race, Providence will frown upon our +efforts, and our arms will not prevail." + +A tall man in military undress replied with considerable emphasis: + +"Then your black-coated gentry must fight their own battle. The people +will not arm if abolition is to be the watchword. I for one will not +strike a blow if it be not understood that the institutions of the South +shall be respected." + +"The government must be sustained, that is the point," cried Mr. +Pursely. "It matters little what becomes of the negro, but the +government must be sustained. Otherwise, what security will there be +for property, and what will become of trade?" + +"Who thinks of trade or property at such a crisis?" interrupted an +enthusiast, in figured trowsers and a gay cravat. "Our beloved Union +must and shall be preserved. The fabric that our fathers reared for us +must not be allowed to crumble. We will prop it with our mangled +bodies," and he brushed a speck of dust from the fine broadcloth of his +sleeve. + +"The insult to our flag must be wiped out," said the military gentleman. +"The honor of the glorious stripes and stars must be vindicated to the +world." + +"Let us chastise these boasting Southrons," said another, "and prove our +supremacy in arms, and I shall be satisfied." + +"But above all," insisted a third, "we must check the sneers and +exultation of European powers, and show them that we have not forgotten +the art of war since the days of 1776 and 1812." + +"I should like to know what you are going to fight about," said the +Englishman, quietly; "for there appears to be much diversity of +opinion. However, if you are determined to cut each others' throats, +perhaps one pretext is as good as another, and a dozen better than only +one." + +In the quiet recess of a window, shadowed by the crimson curtains, sat a +fair young girl, and a man, young and handsome, but upon whose +countenance the traces of dissipation and of passion were deeply marked. +Miranda Ayleff was a Virginian, the cousin and quondam playmate of +Oriana Weems, like her an orphan, and a ward of Beverly. Her companion +was Philip Searle. She had known him in Richmond, and had become much +attached to him, but his habits and character were such, that her +friends, and Beverly chiefly, had earnestly discouraged their intimacy. +Philip left for the North, and Miranda, who at the date of our story was +the guest of Mrs. Pursely, her relative, met him in New York, after a +separation of two years. Philip, who, in spite of his evil ways, was +singularly handsome and agreeable in manners, found little difficulty in +fanning the old flame, and, upon the plea of old acquaintance, became a +frequent visitor upon Miranda at Mr. Pursely's mansion, where we now +find them, earnestly conversing, but in low tones, in the little +solitude of the great bay window. + +"You reproach me with vices which your unkindness has helped to stain me +with. Driven from your presence, whom alone I cared to live for, what +marvel if I sought oblivion in the wine-cup and the dice-box? Give me +one chance, Miranda, to redeem myself. Let me call you wife, and you +will become my guardian angel, and save me from myself." + +"You know that I love you, Philip," she replied, "and willingly would I +share your destiny, hoping to win you from evil. Go with me to Richmond. +We will speak with Beverly, who is kind and truly loves me. We will +convince him of your good purposes, and will win his consent to our +union." + +"No, Miranda; Beverly and your friends in Richmond will never believe me +worthy of you. Besides, it would be dangerous for me to visit Richmond. +I have identified myself with the Northern cause, and although, for your +sake, I might refrain from bearing arms against Virginia, yet I have +little sympathy with any there, where I have been branded as a drunkard +and a gambler." + +"Yet, Philip, is it not the land of your birth--the home of your +boyhood?" + +"The land of my shame and humiliation. No Miranda, I will not return to +Virginia. And if you love me, you will not return. What are these +senseless quarrels to us? We can be happy in each other's love, and +forget that madmen are at war around us. Why will you not trust me, +Miranda--why do you thus withhold from me my only hope of redemption +from the terrible vice that is killing me? I put my destiny, my very +life in your keeping, and you hesitate to accept the trust that alone +can save me. Oh, Miranda! you do not love me." + +"Philip, I cannot renounce my friends, my dear country, the home of my +childhood." + +"Then look you what will be my fate: I will join the armies of the +North, and fling away my life in battle against my native soil. Ruin and +death cannot come too soon when you forsake me." + +Miranda remained silent, but, through the gloom of the recess, he could +see the glistening of a tear upon her cheek. + +The hall-bell rang, and the servant brought in a card for Miss Ayleff. +Following it, Arthur Wayne was ushered into the room. + +She rose to receive him, somewhat surprised at a visit from a stranger. + +"I have brought these letters for you from my good friend Beverly +Weems," said Arthur. "At his request, I have ventured to call in person, +most happy, if you will forgive the presumption, in the opportunity." + +She gave her hand, and welcomed him gracefully and warmly, and, having +introduced Mr. Searle, excused herself while she glanced at the contents +of Beverly's letter. While thus employed, Arthur marked her changing +color; and then, lifting his eyes lest his scrutiny might be rude, +observed Philip's dark eye fixed upon her with a suspicious and +searching expression. Then Philip looked up, and their glances met--the +calm blue eye and the flashing black--but for an instant, but long +enough to confirm the instinctive feeling that there was no sympathy +between their hearts. + +A half-hour's general conversation ensued, but Philip appeared restless +and uneasy, and rose to take his leave. She followed him to the parlor +door. + +"Come to me to-morrow," she said, as she gave her hand, "and we will +talk again." + +A smile of triumph rested upon his pale lips for a second; but he +pressed her hand, and, murmuring an affectionate farewell, withdrew. + +Arthur remained a few moments, but observing that Miranda was pensive +and absent, he bade her good evening, accepting her urgent invitation to +call at an early period. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +"Well, Arthur," said Harold Hare, entering the room of the former at his +hotel, on the following evening, "I have come to bid you good bye. I +start for home to-morrow morning," he added, in reply to Arthur's +questioning glance. "I am to have a company of Providence boys in my old +friend Colonel R----'s regiment. And after a little brisk recruiting, +ho! for Washington and the wars!" + +"You have determined for the war, then?" + +"Of course. And you?" + +"I shall go to my Vermont farm, and live quietly among my books and +pastures." + +"A dull life, Arthur, when every wind that blows will bring to your ears +the swell of martial music and the din of arms." + +"If I were in love with the pomp of war, which, thank heaven, I am not, +Harold, I would rather dwell in a hermit's cave, than follow the fife +and drum over the bodies of my Southern countrymen." + +"Those Southern countrymen, that you seem to love better than the +country they would ruin, would have little remorse in marching over your +body, even among the ashes of your farm-house. Doubtless you would stand +at your threshold, and welcome their butchery, should their ruffian +legions ravage our land as far as your Green Mountains." + +"I do not think they will invade one foot of Northern soil, unless +compelled by strict military necessity. However, should the State to +which I owe allegiance be attacked by foreign or domestic foe, I will +stand among its defenders. But, dear Harold, let us not argue this sad +subject, which it is grief enough but to contemplate. Tell me of your +plans, and how I shall communicate with you, while you are absent. My +distress about this unhappy war will be keener, when I feel that my dear +friend may be its victim." + +Harold pressed his hand affectionately, and the two friends spoke of the +misty future, till Harold arose to depart. They had not mentioned +Oriana's name, though she was in their thoughts, and each, as he bade +farewell, knew that some part of the other's sadness was for her sake. + +Arthur accompanied Harold a short distance up Broadway, and returning, +found at the office of the hotel, a letter, without post-mark, to his +address. He stepped into the reading-room to peruse it. It was from +Beverly, and ran thus: + + "RICHMOND, _May_ --, 1861. + + "DEAR ARTHUR: The departure of a friend gives me an opportunity to + write you about a matter that I beg you will attend to, for my sake, + thoroughly. I learned this morning, upon receipt of a letter from + Mr. Pursely, that Miranda Ayleff, of whom we spoke together, and to + whom I presume you have already delivered my communication, is + receiving the visits of one Philip Searle, to whom, some two years + since, she was much attached. _Entre nous_, Arthur, I can tell you, + the man is a scoundrel of the deepest dye. Not only a drunkard and a + gambler, but dishonest, and unfit for any decent girl's society. He + is guilty of forgery against me, and, against my conscience, I + hushed the matter only out of consideration for her feelings. I + would still have concealed the matter from her, had this resumption + of their intimacy not occurred. But her welfare must cancel all + scruples of that character; and I therefore entreat you to see her + at once, and unmask the man fully and unequivocally. If necessary + you may show my letter for that purpose. I would go on to New York + myself immediately, were I not employed upon a State mission of + exceeding delicacy and importance; but I have full confidence in + your good judgment. Spare no arguments to induce her to return + immediately to Richmond. + + "Oriana has not been well; I know not what ails her, but, though she + makes no complaint, the girl seems really ill. She knows not of my + writing, for I would not pain her about Miranda, of whom she is very + fond. But I can venture, without consulting her, to send you her + good wishes. Let me hear from you in full about what I have written. + Your friend. + + "BEVERLY WEEMS." + + "P.S.--Knowing that you must yet be weak with your late illness, I + would have troubled Harold, rather than you, about this matter, but + I am ignorant of his present whereabouts, while I know that you + contemplated remaining a week or so in New York. Write me about the + ugly bite in the shoulder, from which I trust you are well + recovered. B.W." + +Arthur looked up from the letter, and beheld Philip Searle seated at the +opposite side of the table. He had entered while Arthur's attention was +absorbed in reading, and having glanced at the address of the envelope +which lay upon the table, he recognized the hand of Beverly. This +prompted him to pause, and taking up one of the newspapers which were +strewn about the table, he sat down, and while he appeared to read, +glanced furtively at his _vis-à-vis_ over the paper's edge. When his +presence was noticed, he bowed, and Arthur, with a slight and stern +inclination of the head, fixed his calm eye upon him with a searching +severity that brought a flush of anger to Philip's brow. + +"That is Weems' hand," he muttered, inwardly, "and by that fellow's +look, I fancy that no less a person than myself is the subject of his +epistle." + +Arthur had walked away, but, in his surprise at the unexpected presence +of Searle, he had allowed the letter to remain upon the table. No sooner +had he passed out of the room, than Philip quietly but rapidly stretched +his hand beneath the pile of scattered journals, and drew it toward him. +It required but an instant for his quick eye to catch the substance. His +face grew livid, and his teeth grated harshly with suppressed rage. + +"We shall have a game of plot and counterplot before this ends, my +man," he muttered. + +There were pen and paper on the table, and he wrote a few lines hastily, +placed them in the envelope, and put Beverly's letter in his pocket. He +had hardly finished when Arthur reëntered the room, advanced rapidly to +the table, and, with a look of relief, took up the envelope and its +contents, and again left the room. Philip's lip curled beneath the black +moustache with a smile of triumphant malice. + +"Keep it safe in your pocket for a few hours, my gamecock, and my +heiress to a beggar-girl, I'll have stone walls between you and me." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +The evening was somewhat advanced, but Arthur determined at once to seek +an interview with Miss Ayleff. Hastily arranging his toilet, he walked +briskly up Broadway, revolving in his mind a fit course for fulfilling +his delicate errand. + +To shorten his way, he turned into a cross street in the upper part of +the city. As he approached the hall door of a large brick house, his eye +chanced to fall upon a man who was ringing for admittance. The light +from the street lamp fell full upon his face, and he recognized the +features of Philip Searle. At that moment the door was opened, and +Philip entered. Arthur would have passed on, but something in the +appearance of the house arrested his attention, and, on closer scrutiny, +revealed to him its character. One of those impulses which sometimes +sway our actions, tempted him to enter, and learn, if possible, +something further respecting the habits of the man whose scheme he had +been commissioned to thwart. A moment's reflection might have changed +his purpose, but his hand was already upon the bell, and the summons was +quickly answered by a good-looking but faded young woman, with painted +cheeks and gay attire. She fixed her keen, bold eyes upon him for a few +seconds, and then, tossing her ringlets, pertly invited him to enter. + +"Who is within?" asked Arthur, standing in the hall. + +"Only the girls. Walk in." + +"The gentleman who came in before me, is he there?" + +"Do you want to see him?" she asked, suspiciously. + +"Oh, no. Only I would avoid being seen by any one." + +"He will not see you. Come right in." And she threw open the door, and +flaunted in. + +Arthur followed her without hesitation. + +Bursts of forced and cheerless laughter, and the shrill sound of rude +and flippant talk, smote unpleasantly upon his ear. The room was richly +furnished, but without taste or modesty. The tall mirrors were displayed +with ostentation, and the paintings, offensive in design, hung +conspicuous in showy frames. The numerous gas jets, flashing among +glittering crystal pendants, made vice more glaring and heartlessness +more terribly apparent. Women, with bold and haggard eyes, with brazen +brows, and cheeks from which the roses of virgin shame had been plucked +to bloom no more forever--mostly young girls, scourging their youth into +old age, and gathering poison at once for soul and body--with sensual +indolence reclined upon the rich ottomans, or with fantastic grace +whirled through lewd waltzes over the velvet carpets. There was laughter +without joy--there was frivolity without merriment--there was the +surface of enjoyment and the substance of woe, for beneath those painted +cheeks was the pallor of despair and broken health, and beneath those +whitened bosoms, half veiled with gaudy silks, were hearts that were +aching with remorse, or, yet more unhappy, benumbed and callous with +habitual sin. + +Yet there, like a crushed pearl upon a heap of garbage, lingers the +trace of beauty; and there, surely, though sepulchred in the caverns of +vice, dwells something that was once innocence, and not unredeemable. +But whence is the friendly word to come, whence the guardian hand that +might lift them from the slough. They live accursed by even charity, +shunned by philanthropy, and shut from the Christian world like a tribe +of lepers whose touch is contagion and whose breath is pestilence. In +the glittering halls of fashion, the high-born beauty, with wreaths +about her white temples and diamonds upon her chaste bosom, gives her +gloved hand for the dance, and forgets that an erring sister, by the +touch of those white fingers, might be raised from the grave of her +chastity, and clothed anew with the white garments of repentance. But +no; the cold world of fashion, that from its cushioned pew has listened +with stately devotion to the words of the Redeemer, has taught her that +to redeem the fallen is beneath her caste. The bond of sisterhood is +broken. The lost one must pursue her hideous destiny, each avenue of +escape blocked by the scorn and loathing which denies her the contact of +virtue and the counsel of purity. In the broad fields of charity, +invaded by cold philosophers, losing themselves in searching unreal and +vague philanthropies, none so practical in beneficence as to take her by +the hand, saying, "Go, and sin no more." + +But whenever the path of benevolence is intricate and doubtful, whenever +the work is linked with a riddle whose solving will breed discord and +trouble among men, whenever there is a chance to make philanthropy a +plea for hate, and bitterness and charity can be made a battle-cry to +arouse the spirit of destruction, and spread ruin and desolation over +the fair face of the earth, then will the domes of our churches resound +with eloquence, then will the journals of the land teem with their +mystic theories, then will the mourners of human woe be loud in +lamentation, and lift up their mighty voices to cry down an abstract +evil. When actual misery appeals to them, they are deaf; when the plain +and palpable error stalks before them, they turn aside. They are too +busy with the tangles of some philanthropic Gordian knot, to stretch out +a helping hand to the sufferer at their sides. They are frenzied with +their zeal to build a bridge over a spanless ocean, while the drowning +wretch is sinking within their grasp. They scorn the simple charity of +the good Samaritan; theirs must be a gigantic and splendid achievement +in experimental beneficence, worthy of their philosophic brains. The +wrong they would redress must be one that half the world esteems a +right; else there would be no room for their arguments, no occasion for +their invective, no excuse for their passion. To do good is too simple +for their transcendentalism; they must first make evil out of their +logic, and then, through blood and wasting flames, drive on the people +to destruction, that the imaginary evil may be destroyed. While Charity +soars so high among the clouds, she will never stoop to lift the +Magdalen from sin. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Arthur heaved an involuntary sigh, as he gazed upon those sad wrecks of +womanhood, striving to harden their sense of degradation by its impudent +display. But an expression of bewildered and sorrowful surprise suddenly +overspread his countenance. Seated alone upon a cushioned stool, at the +chimney-corner, was a young woman, her elbows resting upon her knees, +and her face bent thoughtfully upon her palms. She was apparently lost +in thought to all around her. She was thinking--of what? Perhaps of the +green fields where she played in childhood; perhaps of her days of +innocence; perhaps of the mother at whose feet she had once knelt in +prayer. But she was far away, in thought, from that scene of infamy of +which she was a part; for, in the glare of the gaslight, a tear +struggled through her eyelashes, and glittered like a ray from heaven +piercing the glooms of hell. + +Arthur walked to her, and placed his hand softly upon her yellow hair. + +"Oh, Mary!" he murmured, in a tone of gentle sorrow, that sounded +strangely amid the discordant merriment that filled the room. + +She looked up, at his touch, but when his voice fell upon her ear, she +arose suddenly and stood before him like one struck dumb betwixt +humiliation and wonder. The angel had not yet fled that bosom, for the +blush of shame glowed through the chalk upon her brow and outcrimsoned +the paint upon her cheek. As it passed away, she would have wreathed her +lip mechanically with the pert smile of her vocation, but the smile was +frozen ere it reached her lips, and the coarse words she would have +spoken died into a murmur and a sob. She sank down again upon the +cushion, and bent her face low down upon her hands. + +"Oh, Mary! is it you! is it you! I pray heaven your mother be in her +grave!" + +She rose and escaped quickly from the room; but he followed her and +checked her at the stairway. + +"Let me speak with you, Mary. No, not here; lead me to your room." + +He followed her up-stairs, and closing the door, sat beside her as she +leaned upon the bed and buried her face in the pillow. + +It was the child of his old nurse. Upon the hill-sides of his native +State they had played together when children, and now she lay there +before him, with scarce enough of woman's nature left to weep for her +own misery. + +"Mary, how is this? Look up, child," he said, taking her hand kindly. "I +had rather see you thus, bent low with sorrow, than bold and hard in +guilt. But yet look up and speak to me. I will be your friend, you know. +Tell me, why are you thus?" + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne, do not scold me, please don't. I was thinking of home +and mother when you came and put your hand on my head. Mother's dead." + +"Well for her, poor woman. But how came you thus?" + +"I scarcely seem to know. It seems to me a dream. I married John, and he +brought me to New York. Then the war came, and he went and was killed. +And mother was dead, and I had no friends in the great city. I could get +no work, and I was starving, indeed I was, Mr. Wayne. So a young man, +who was very handsome, and rich, I think, for he gave me money and fine +dresses, he promised me--Oh, Mr. Wayne, I was very wrong and foolish, +and I wish I could die, and be buried by my poor mother." + +"And did he bring you here?" + +"Oh no, sir. I came here two weeks ago, after he had left me. And when +he came in one night and found me here, he was very angry, and said he +would kill me if I told any one that I knew him. And I know why; but you +won't tell, Mr. Wayne, for it would make him angry. I have found out +that he is married to the mistress of this house. He's a bad man, I know +now, and often comes here drunk, and swears at the woman and the girls. +Hark! that's her room, next to mine, and I think he's in there now." + +The faint sound of voices, smothered by the walls, reached them from the +adjoining chamber; but as they listened, the door of that room opened, +and the loud and angry tones of a man, speaking at the threshold, could +be distinctly heard. Arthur quietly and carefully opened the door of +Mary's room, an inch or less, and listened at the aperture. He was not +mistaken; he recognized the voice of Philip Searle. + +"I'll do it, anyhow," said Philip, angrily, and with the thick utterance +of one who had been drinking. "I'll do it; and if you trouble me, I'll +fix you." + +"Philip, if you marry that girl I'll peach; I will, so help me G--d," +replied a woman's voice. "I've given you the money, and I've given you +plenty before, as much as I had to give you, Philip, and you know it. I +don't mind that, but you shan't marry till I'm dead. I'm your lawful +wife, and if I'm low now, it's your fault, for you drove me to it." + +"I'll drive you to hell if you worry me. I tell you she's got lots of +money, and a farm, and niggers, and you shall have half if you only keep +your mouth shut. Come, now, Molly, don't be a fool; what's the use, +now?" + +They went down the stairway together, and their voices were lost as they +descended. Arthur determined to follow and get some clue, if possible, +as to the man's, intentions. He therefore gave his address to Mary, and +made her promise faithfully to meet him on the following morning, +promising to befriend her and send her to his mother in Vermont. Hearing +the front door close, and surmising that Philip had departed, he bade +her good night, and descending hastily, was upon the sidewalk in time to +observe Philip's form in the starlight as he turned the corner. + +It was now ten o'clock; too late to call upon Miranda without disturbing +the household, which he desired to avoid. Arthur's present fear was that +possibly an elopement had been planned for that night, and he therefore +determined, if practicable, to keep Searle in view till he had traced +him home. The latter entered a refreshment saloon upon Broadway; Arthur +followed, and ordering, in a low tone, some dish that would require time +in the preparation, he stepped, without noise, into an alcove adjoining +one whence came the sound of conversation. + +"Well, what's up?" inquired a gruff, coarse voice. + +"Fill me some brandy," replied Philip. "I tell you, Bradshaw, it's +risky, but I'll do it. The old woman's rock. She'll blow upon me if she +gets the chance; but I'm in for it, and I'll put it through. We must +manage to keep it mum from her, and as soon as I get the girl I'll +accept the lieutenancy, and be off to the wars till all blows over. If +Moll should smoke me out there, I'll cross the line and take sanctuary +with Jeff. Davis." + +"What about the girl?" + +"Oh; she's all right," replied Philip, with a drunken chuckle. "I had an +interview with the dear creature this morning, and she's like wax in my +hands. It's all arranged for to-morrow morning. You be sure to have the +carriage ready at the Park--the same spot, you know--by ten o'clock. +She can't well get away before, but that will be time enough for the +train." + +"I want that money now." + +"Moll's hard up, but I got a couple of hundred from her. Here's fifty +for you; now don't grumble, I'm doing the best I can, d--n you, and you +know it. Now listen--I want to fix things with you about that blue-eyed +chap." + +The waiter here brought in Arthur's order, and a sudden silence ensued +in the alcove. The two men had evidently been unaware of the proximity +of a third party, and their tone, though low, had not been sufficiently +guarded to escape Arthur hearing, whose ear, leaning against the thin +partition, was within a few inches of Philip's head. A muttered curse +and the gurgling of liquor from a decanter was all that could be heard +for the space of a few-moments, when the two, after a brief whisper, +arose and left the place, not, however, without making ineffectual +efforts to catch a glimpse of the occupant of the tenanted alcove. +Arthur soon after followed them into the street. He was aware that he +was watched from the opposite corner, and that his steps were dogged in +the darkness. But he drew his felt hat well over his face, and by +mingling with the crowd that chanced to be pouring from one of the +theatres, he avoided recognition and passed unnoticed into his hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Arthur felt ill and much fatigued when he retired to rest, and was +restless and disturbed with fever throughout the night. He had +overtasked his delicate frame, yet scarce recovered from the effects of +recent suffering, and he arose in the morning with a feeling of +prostration that he could with difficulty overcome. However, he +refreshed himself with a cup of tea, and prepared to call upon Miss +Ayleff. It was but seven o'clock, a somewhat early hour for a morning +visit, but the occasion was one for little ceremony. As he was on the +point of leaving his room, there was a peremptory knock at the door, +and, upon his invitation to walk in, a stranger entered. It was a +gentlemanly personage, with a searching eye and a calm and quiet manner. +Arthur was vexed to be delayed, but received the intruder with a civil +inclination of the head, somewhat surprised, however, that no card had +been sent to give him intimation of the visit. + +"Are you Mr. Arthur Wayne?" inquired the stranger. + +"I am he," replied Arthur. "Be seated, sir." + +"I thank you. My name is ----. I am a deputy United States marshal of +this district." + +Arthur bowed, and awaited a further statement of the purpose of his +visit. + +"You have lately arrived from Virginia, I understand?" + +"A few days since, sir--from a brief sojourn in the vicinity of +Richmond." + +"And yesterday received a communication from that quarter?" + +"I did. A letter from an intimate acquaintance." + +"My office will excuse me from an imputation of inquisitiveness. May I +see that letter?" + +"Excuse me, sir. Its contents are of a private and delicate nature, and +intended only for my own perusal." + +"It is because its contents are of that nature that I am constrained to +ask you for it. Pardon me, Mr. Wayne; but to be brief and frank you, I +must either receive that communication by your good will, or call in my +officers, and institute a search. I am sure you will not make my duty +more unpleasant than necessary." + +Arthur paused awhile. He was conscious that it would be impossible for +him to avoid complying with the marshal's request, and yet it was most +annoying to be obliged to make a third party cognizant of the facts +contained in Beverly's epistle. + +"I have no desire to oppose you in the performance of your functions," +he finally replied, "but really there are very particular reasons why +the contents of this letter should not be made public." + +A very faint indication of a smile passed over the marshal's serious +face; Arthur did not observe it, but continued: + +"I will hand you the letter, for I perceive there has been some mistake +and misapprehension which of course it is your duty to clear up. But you +must promise me that, when your perusal of it shall have satisfied you +that its nature is strictly private, and not offensive to the law, you +will return it me and preserve an inviolable secrecy as to its +contents." + +"When I shall be satisfied on that score, I will do as you desire." + +Arthur handed him the letter, somewhat to the other's surprise, for he +had certainly been watching for an attempt at its destruction, or at +least was prepared for prevarication and stratagem. He took the paper +from its envelope and read it carefully. It was in the following words: + + Richmond, _May_ --, 1861. + + Dear Arthur: This will be handed to you by a sure hand. Communicate + freely with the bearer--he can be trusted. The arms can be safely + shipped as he represents, and you will therefore send them on at + once. Your last communication was of great service to the cause, + and, although I would be glad to have you with us, the President + thinks you are too valuable, for the present, where you are. When + you come, the commission will be ready for you. Yours truly, + + Beverly Weems, Capt. C.S.A. + +"Are you satisfied?" inquired Arthur, after the marshal had silently +concluded his examination of the document. + +"Perfectly satisfied," replied the other, placing the letter in his +pocket. "Mr. Wayne, it is my duty to arrest you." + +"Arrest me!" + +"In the name of the United States." + +"For what offence?" + +"Treason." + +Arthur remained for a while silent with astonishment. At last, as the +marshal arose and took his hat, he said: + +"I cannot conceive what act or word of mine can be construed as +treasonable. There is some mistake, surely; I am a quiet man, a stranger +in the city, and have conversed with but one or two persons since my +arrival. Explain to me, if you please, the particular nature of the +charge against me." + +"It is not my province, at this moment, to do so, Mr. Wayne. It is +sufficient that, upon information lodged with me last evening, and +forwarded to Washington by telegraph, I received from the Secretary of +War orders for your immediate arrest, should I find the information +true. I have found it true, and I arrest you." + +"Surely, nothing in that letter can be so misconstrued as to implicate +me." + +"Mr. Wayne, this prevarication is as useless as it is unseemly. You +_know_ that the letter is sufficient warrant for my proceeding. My +carriage is at the door. I trust you will accompany me without further +delay." + +"Sir, I was about to proceed, when you entered, upon an errand that +involves the safety and happiness of the young lady mentioned in that +letter. The letter itself will inform you of the circumstance, and I +assure you, events are in progress that require my immediate action. You +will at least allow me to visit the party?" + +The marshal looked at him with surprise. + +"What party?" + +"The lady of whom my friend makes mention." + +"I do not understand you. I can only conceive that, for some purpose of +your own, you are anxious to gain time. I must request you to accompany +me at once to the carriage." + +"You will permit me at least to send a, letter--a word--a warning?" + +"That your accomplice may receive information? Assuredly not." + +"Be yourself the messenger--or send"---- + +"This subterfuge is idle." He opened the door and stood beside it. "I +must request your company to the carriage." + +Arthur's cheek flushed for a moment with anger. + +"This severity," he said, "is ridiculous and unjust. I tell you, you and +those for whom you act will be accountable for a great crime--for +innocence betrayed--for a young life made desolate--for perhaps a +dishonored grave. I plead not for myself, but for one helpless and pure, +who at this hour may be the victim of a villain's plot. In the name of +humanity, I entreat you give me but time to avert the calamity, and I +will follow you without remonstrance. Go with me yourself. Be present at +the interview. Of what consequence to you will be an hour's delay?" + +"It may be of much consequence to those who are in league with you. I +cannot grant your request. You must come with me, sir, or I shall be +obliged to call for assistance," and he drew a pair of handcuffs from +his pocket. + +Arthur perceived that further argument or entreaty would be of no avail. +He was much agitated and distressed beyond measure at the possible +misfortune to Miranda, which, by this untimely arrest, he was powerless +to avert. Knowing nothing of the true contents of the letter which +Philip had substituted for the one received from Beverly, he could not +imagine an excuse for the marshal's inflexibility. He was quite ill, +too, and what with fever and agitation, his brain was in a whirl. He +leaned against the chair, faint and dispirited. The painful cough, the +harbinger of that fatal malady which had already brought a sister to an +early grave, oppressed him, and the hectic glowed upon his pale cheeks. +The marshal approached him, and laid his hand gently on his shoulder. + +"You seem ill," he said; "I am sorry to be harsh with you, but I must do +my duty. They will make you as comfortable as possible at the fort. But +you must come." + +Arthur followed him mechanically, and like one in a dream. They stepped +into the carriage and were driven rapidly away; but Arthur, as he +leaned back exhausted in his seat, murmured sorrowfully: + +"And poor little Mary, too! Who will befriend her now?" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +In the upper apartment of a cottage standing alone by the roadside on +the outskirts of Boston, Miranda, pale and dejected, sat gazing vacantly +at the light of the solitary lamp that lit the room. The clock was +striking midnight, and the driving rain beat dismally against the +window-blinds. But one month had passed since her elopement with Philip +Searle, yet her wan cheeks and altered aspect revealed how much of +suffering can be crowded into that little space of time. She started +from her revery when the striking of the timepiece told the lateness of +the hour. Heavy footsteps sounded upon the stairway, and, while she +listened, Philip, followed by Bradshaw, entered the room abruptly. + +"How is this?" asked Philip, angrily. "Why are you not in bed?" + +"I did not know it was so late, Philip," she answered, in a deprecating +tone. "I was half asleep upon the rocking-chair, listening to the +storm. It's a bad night, Philip. How wet you are!" + +He brushed off the hand she had laid upon his shoulder, and muttered, +with bad humor: + +"I've told you a dozen times I don't want you to sit up for me. Fetch +the brandy and glasses, and go to bed." + +"Oh, Philip, it is so late! Don't drink: to-night, Philip. You are wet, +and you look tired. Come to bed." + +"Do as I tell you," he answered, roughly, flinging himself into a chair, +and beckoning Bradshaw to a seat. Miranda sighed, and brought the bottle +and glasses from the closet. + +"Now, you go to sleep, do you hear; and don't be whining and crying all +night, like a sick girl." + +The poor girl moved slowly to the door, and turned at the threshold. + +"Good night, Philip." + +"Oh, good night--there, get along," he cried, impatiently, without +looking at her, and gulping down a tumblerful of spirits. Miranda closed +the door and left the two men alone together. + +They remained silent for a while, Bradshaw quietly sipping his liquor, +and Philip evidently disturbed and angry. + +"You're sure 'twas she?" he asked at last. + +"Oh, bother!" replied Bradshaw. "I'm not a mole nor a blind man. Don't I +know Moll when I see her?" + +"Curse her! she'll stick to me like a leech. What could have brought her +here? Do you think she's tracked me?" + +"She'd track you through fire, if she once got on the scent. Moll ain't +the gal to be fooled, and you know it." + +"What's to be done?" + +"Move out of this. Take the girl to Virginia. You'll be safe enough +there." + +"You're right, Bradshaw. It's the best way. I ought to have done it at +first. But, hang the girl, she'll weary me to death with her sermons and +crying fits. Moll's worth two of her for that, matter--she scolds, but +at least she never would look like a stuck fawn when I came home a +little queer. For the matter of that, she don't mind a spree herself at +times." And, emptying his glass, the libertine laughed at the +remembrance of some past orgies. + +While he was thus, in his half-drunken mood, consoling himself for +present perplexities by dwelling upon the bacchanalian joys of other +days, a carriage drove up the street, and stopped before the door. Soon +afterward, the hall bell was rung, and Philip, alarmed and astonished, +started from his seat. + +"Who's that?" he asked, almost in a whisper. + +"Don't know," replied his companion. + +"She couldn't have traced me here already--unless you have betrayed me, +Bradshaw," he added suddenly, darting a suspicious glance upon his +comrade. + +"You're just drunk enough to be a fool," replied Bradshaw, rising from +his seat, as a second summons, more violent than the first, echoed +through the corridors. "I'll go down and see what's the matter. Some +one's mistaken the house, I suppose. That's all." + +"Let no one in, Bradshaw," cried Philip, as that worthy left the room. +He descended the stairs, opened the door, and presently afterward the +carriage drove rapidly away. Philip, who had been listening earnestly, +could hear the sound of the wheels as they whirled over the pavement. + +"All right," he said, as he applied himself once more to the bottle +before him. "Some fool has mistaken his whereabouts. Curse me, but I'm +getting as nervous as an old woman." + +He was in the act of lifting the glass to his lips, when the door was +flung wide open. The glass fell from his hands, and shivered upon the +floor. Moll stood before him. + +She stood at the threshold with a wicked gleam in her eye, and a smile +of triumph upon her lips; then advanced into the room, closed the door +quietly, locked it, seated herself composedly in the nearest chair, and +filled herself a glass of spirits. Philip glared upon her with an +expression of mingled anger, fear and wonderment. + +"Are you a devil? Where in thunder did you spring from?" he asked at +last. + +"You'll make me a devil, with your tricks, Philip Searle," she said, +sipping the liquor, and looking at him wickedly over the rim of the +tumbler. + +"Ha! ha! ha!" she laughed aloud, as he muttered a curse between his +clenched teeth, "I'm not the country girl, Philip dear, that I was when +you whispered your sweet nonsense in my ear. I know your game, my bully +boy, and I'll play you card for card." + +"Bradshaw" shouted Philip, going to the door and striving to open it. + +"It's no use," she said, "I've got the key in my pocket. Sit down. I +want to talk to you. Don't be a fool." + +"Where's Bradshaw, Moll?" + +"At the depot by this time, I fancy, for the carriage went off at a +deuce of a rate." + +She laughed again, while he paced the room with angry strides. + +"'Twas he, then, that betrayed me. The villain! I'll have his life for +that, as I'm a sinner." + +"Your a great sinner; Philip Searle. Sit down, now, and be quiet. +Where's the girl?" + +"What girl?" + +"Miranda Ayleff. The girl you've ruined; the girl you've put in my +place, and that I've come to drive out of it. Where is she?" + +"Don't speak so loud, Moll. Be quiet, can't you? See here, Moll," he +continued, drawing a chair to her side, and speaking in his old winning +way--"see here, Moll: why can't you just let this matter stand as it is, +and take your share of the plunder? You know I don't care about the +girl; so what difference does it make to you, if we allow her to think +that she's my lawful wife? Come, give us a kiss, Moll, and let's hear no +more about it." + +"Honey won't catch such an old fly as I am, Philip," replied the woman, +but with a gentled tone. "Where is the girl?" she asked suddenly, +starting from the chair. "I want to see her. Is she in there?" + +"No," said Philip, quickly, and rising to her passage to the door of +Miranda's chamber. "She is not there, Moll; you can't see her. Are you +crazy? You'd frighten the poor girl out of her senses." + +"She's in there. I'm going in to speak with her. Yes I shall, Philip, +and you needn't stop me." + +"Keep back. Keep quiet, can't you?" + +"No. Don't hold me, Philip Searle. Keep your hands off me, if you know +what's good for you." + +She brushed past him, and laid her hand upon the door-knob; but he +seized her violently by the arm and pulled her back. The action hurt her +wrist, and she was boiling with rage in a second. With her clenched +fist, she struck him straight in the face repeatedly, while with every +blow, she screamed out an imprecation. + +"Keep quiet, you hag! Keep quiet, confound you!" said the infuriated +man. "Won't you? Take that!" and he planted his fist upon her mouth. + +The woman, through her tears and sobs, howled at him curse upon curse. +With one hand upon her throat, he essayed to choke her utterance, and +thus they scuffled about the room. + +"I'll cut you, Philip; I will, by ----" + +Her hand, in fact, was fumbling about her pocket, and she drew forth a +small knife and thrust it into his shoulder. They were near the table, +over which Philip had thrust her down. He was wild with rage and the +brandy he had drank. His right hand instinctively grasped the heavy +bottle that by chance it came in contact with. The next instant, it +descended full upon her forehead, and with a moan of fear and pain, she +fell like lead upon the floor, and lay bleeding and motionless. + +Philip, still grasping the shattered bottle, gazed aghast upon the +lifeless form. Then a cry of terror burst upon his ear. He turned, and +beheld Miranda, with dishevelled hair, pale as her night-clothes, +standing at the threshold of the open door. With a convulsive shudder, +she staggered into the room, and fainted at his feet, her white arm +stained with the blood that was sinking in little pools into the carpet. + +He stood there gazing from one to the other, but without seeking to +succor either. The fumes of brandy, and the sudden revulsion from active +wrath to apathy, seemed to stupefy his brain. At last he stooped beside +the outstretched form of Molly, and, with averted face, felt in her +pocket and drew out the key. Stealthily, as if he feared that they could +hear him, he moved toward the door, opened it, and passing through, +closed it gently, as one does who would not waken a sleeping child or +invalid. Rapidly, but with soft steps, he descended the stairs, and went +out into the darkness and the storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +When Miranda awakened from her swoon, the lamp was burning dimly, and +the first light of dawn came faintly through the blinds. All was still +around her, and for some moments she could not recall the terrible scene +which had passed before her eyes. Presently her fingers came in contact +with the clots of gore that were thickening on her garment, and she +arose quickly, and, with a shudder, tottered against the wall. Her eyes +fell upon Moll's white face, the brow mangled and bruised, and the +dishevelled hair soaking in the crimson tide that kept faintly oozing +from the cut. She was alone in the house with that terrible object; for +Philip, careless of her convenience, had only procured the services of a +girl from a neighboring farm-house, who attended to the household duties +during the day, and went home in the evening. But her womanly compassion +was stronger than her sense of horror, and kneeling by the side of the +prostrate woman, with inexpressible relief she perceived, by the slight +pulsation of the heart, that life was there. Entering her chamber, she +hastily put on a morning wrapper, and returning with towel and water, +raised Moll's head upon her lap, and washed the thick blood from her +face. The cooling moisture revived the wounded woman; her bosom swelled +with a deep sigh, and she opened her eyes and looked languidly around. + +"How do you feel now, madam?" asked Miranda, gently. + +"Who are you?" said Moll, in reply, after a moment's pause. + +"Miranda--Miranda Searle, the wife of Philip," she added, trembling at +the remembrance of the woman's treatment at her husband's hands. + +Molly raised herself with an effort, and sat upon the floor, looking at +Miranda, while she laughed with a loud and hollow sound. + +"Philip's wife, eh? And you love him, don't you? Well, dreams can't last +forever." + +"Don't you feel strong enough to get up and lie upon the bed?" asked +Miranda, soothingly, for she was uncomfortable tinder the strange glare +that the woman fixed upon her. + +"I'm well enough," said Moll. "Where's Philip?" + +"Indeed, I do not know. I am very sorry, ma'am, that--that"-- + +"Never mind. Give me a glass of water." + +Miranda hastened to comply, and Moll swallowed the water, and remained +silent for a moment. + +"Shan't I go for assistance?" asked Miranda, who was anxious to put an +end to this painful interview, and was also distressed about her +husband's absence. "There's no one except ourselves in the house, but I +can go to the farmer's house near by." + +"Not for the world," interrupted Moll, taking her by the arm. "I'm well +enough. Here, let me lean on you. That's it. I'll sit on the +rocking-chair. Thank you. Just bind my head up, will you? Is it an ugly +cut?" she asked, as Miranda, having procured some linen, carefully +bandaged the wounded part. + +"Oh, yes! It's very bad. Does it pain you much, ma'am?" + +"Never mind. There, that will do. Now sit down there. Don't be afraid of +me. I ain't a-going to hurt you. It's only the cut that makes me look so +ugly." + +"Oh, no! I am not at all afraid, ma'am," said Miranda, shuddering in +spite of herself. + +"You are a sweet-looking girl," said Moll, fixing her haggard, but yet +beautiful eyes upon the fragile form beside her. "It's a pity you must +be unhappy. Has that fellow been unkind to you?" + +"What fellow madam?" + +"Philip." + +"He is my husband, madam," replied Miranda, mildly, but with the +slightest accent of displeasure. + +"He is, eh? Hum! You love him dearly, don't you?" + +Miranda blushed, and asked: + +"Do you know my husband?" + +"Know him! If you knew him as well, it would be better for you. You'll +know him well enough before long. You come from Virginia, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"You must go back there." + +"If Philip wishes it." + +"I tell you, you must go at once--to-day. I will give you money, if you +have none. And you must never speak of what has happened in this house. +Do you understand me?" + +"But Philip"-- + +"Forget Philip. You must never see him any more. Why should you want to? +Don't you know that he's a brute, and will beat you as he beat me, if +you stay with him. Why should you care about him?" + +"He is my husband, and you should not speak about him so to me," said +Miranda, struggling with her tears, and scarce knowing in what vein to +converse with the rude woman, whose strange language bewildered and +frightened her. + +"Bah!" said Moll, roughly. "You're a simpleton. There, don't cry, though +heaven knows you've cause enough, poor thing! Philip Searle's a villain. +I could send him to the State prison if I chose." + +"Oh, no! don't say that; indeed, don't." + +"I tell you I could; but I will not, if you mind me, and do what I tell +you. I'm a bad creature, but I won't harm you, if I can help it. You +helped me when I was lying there, after that villain hurt me, and I +can't help liking you. And yet you've hurt me, too." + +"I!" + +"Yes. Shall I tell you a story? Poor girl! you're wretched enough now, +but you'd better know the truth at once. Listen to me: I was an innocent +girl, like you, once. Not so beautiful, perhaps, and not so good; for I +was always proud and willful, and loved to have my own way. I was a +country girl, and had money left to me by my dead parents. A young man +made my acquaintance. He was gay and handsome, and made me believe that +he loved me. Well, I married him--do you hear? I married him--at the +church, with witnesses, and a minister to make me his true and lawful +wife. Curse him! I wish he had dropped down dead at the altar. There, +you needn't shudder; it would have been well for you if he had. I +married him, and then commenced my days of sorrow and--of guilt. He +squandered my money at the gambling-table, and I was sometimes in rags +and without food. He was drunk half the time, and abused me; but I was +even with him there, and gave him as good as he gave me. He taught me to +drink, and such a time as we sometimes made together would have made +Satan blush. I thought I was low enough; but he drove me lower yet. He +put temptation in my way--he did, curse his black heart! though he +denied it. I fell as low as woman can fall, and then I suppose you think +he left me? Well, he did, for a time; he went off somewhere, and perhaps +it was then he was trying to ruin some other girl, as foolish as I had +been. But he came back, and got money from me--the wages of my sin. And +all the while, he was as handsome, and could talk as softly as if he was +a saint. And with that smooth tongue and handsome face he won another +bride, and married her--married her, I tell you; and that's why I can +send him to the State prison." + +"Send him! Who? My God! what do you mean?" cried Miranda, rising slowly +from her chair, with clasped hands and ashen cheeks. + +"Philip Searle, my husband!" shouted Moll, rising also, and standing +with gleaming eyes before the trembling girl. + +Miranda sank slowly back into her seat, tearless, but shuddering as +with an ague fit. Only from her lips, with a moaning sound, a murmur +came: + +"No, no, no! oh, no!" + +"May God strike me dead this instant, if it is not true!" said Moll, +sadly; for she felt for the poor girl's, distress. + +Miranda rose, her hands pressed tightly against her heart, and moved +toward the door with tottering and uncertain steps, like one who +suffocates and seeks fresh air. Then her white lips were stained with +purple; a red stream gushed from her mouth and dyed the vestment on her +bosom; and ere Moll could reach her, she had sunk, with an agonizing +sob, upon the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +The night after the unhappy circumstance we have related, in the +bar-room of a Broadway hotel, in New York city, a colonel of volunteers, +moustached and uniformed, and evidently in a very unmilitary condition +of unsteadiness, was entertaining a group of convivial acquaintances, +with bacchanalian exercises and martian gossip. + +He had already, with a month's experience at the seat of war, culled the +glories of unfought fields, and was therefore an object of admiration to +his civilian friends, and of envy to several unfledged heroes, whose +maiden swords had as yet only jingled on the pavement of Broadway, or +flashed in the gaslight of saloons. They were yet none the less +conscious of their own importance, these embryo Napoleons, but wore +their shoulder straps with a killing air, and had often, on a sunny +afternoon, stood the fire of bright eyes from innumerable promenading +batteries, with gallantry, to say the least. + +And now they stood, like Caesars, amid clouds of smoke, and wielded +their formidable goblets with the ease of veterans, though not always +with a soldierly precision. And why should they not? Their tailors had +made them heroes, every one; and they had never yet once led the van in +a retreat. + +"And how's Tim?" asked one of the black-coated hangers-on upon +prospective glory. + +"Tim's in hot water," answered the colonel, elevating his chin and elbow +with a gesture more suggestive of Bacchus than of Mars. + +"Hot brandy and water would be more like him," said the acknowledged wit +of the party, looking gravely at the sugar in his empty glass, as if +indifferent to the bursts of laughter which rewarded his appropriate +sally. + +"I'll tell you about it," said the colonel. "Fill up, boys. Thompson, +take a fresh segar." + +Thompson took it, and the boys filled up, while the colonel flung down a +specimen of Uncle Sam's eagle with an emphasis that demonstrated what +he would do for the bird when opportunity offered. + +"You see, we had a party of Congressmen in camp, and were cracking some +champagne bottles in the adjutant's tent. We considered it a military +necessity to floor the legislators, you know; but one old senator was +tough as a siege-gun, and wouldn't even wink at his third bottle. So the +corks flew about like minié balls, but never a man but was too good a +soldier to cry 'hold, enough.' As for that old demijohn of a senator, it +seemed he couldn't hold enough, and wouldn't if he could; so we directed +the main battle against him, and opened a masked battery upon him, by +uncovering a bottle of Otard; but he never flinched. It was a game of +_Brag_ all over, and every one kept ordering 'a little more grape.' +Presently, up slaps a mounted aid, galloping like mad, and in tumbles +the sleepy orderly for the officer of the day. + +"'That's you, Tim,' says I. But Tim was just then singing the Star +Spangled Banner in a convivial whisper to the tune of the Red, White, +and Blue, and wouldn't be disturbed on no account. + +"'Tumble out, Tim,' says I, 'or I'll have you court-martialled and +shot.' + +"'In the neck,' says Tim. But he did manage to tumble out, and finished +the last stanzas with a flourish, for the edification of the mounted +aid-de-camp. + +"'Where's the officer of the day?' asked the aid, looking suspiciously +at Tim's shaky knees. + +"'He stands before you,' replied Tim, steadying himself a little by +affectionately hanging on to the horse's tail. + +"'You sir? you're unfit for duty, and I'll report you, sir, at +headquarters,' said the aid, who was a West Pointer, you know, stiff as +a poker in regimentals. + +"'Sir!--hic,' replied Tim, with an attempt at offended dignity, the +effect of which was rather spoiled by the accompanying hiccough. + +"'Where's the colonel!' asked the aid. + +"'Drunk,' says that rascal, Tim, confidentially, with a knowing wink. + +"'Where's the adjutant?' + +"'Drunk.' + +"'Good God, sir, are you all drunk?' + +"''Cept the surgeon--he's got the measles.' + +"'Orderly, give this dispatch, to the first sober officer you can +find.' + +"'It's no use, captain,' says Tim, 'the regiment's drunk--'cept me, +hic!' and Tim lost his balance, and tumbled over the orderly, for you +see the captain put spurs to his horse rather suddenly, and whisked the +friendly tail out of his hands. + +"So we were all up before the general the next day, but swore ourselves +clear, all except Tim, who had the circumstantial evidence rather too +strong against him." + +"And such are the men in whom the country has placed its trust?" +muttered a grey-headed old gentleman, who, while apparently absorbed in +his newspaper, had been listening to the colonel's narrative. + +A young man who had lounged into the room approached the party and +caught the colonel's eye: + +"Ah! Searle, how are you? Come up and take a drink." + +A further requisition was made upon the bartender, and the company +indulged anew. Searle, although a little pale and nervous, was all life +and gaiety. His coming was a fresh brand on the convivial flame, and +the party, too much exhilarated to be content with pushing one vice to +excess, sallied forth in search of whatever other the great city might +afford. They had not to look far. Folly is at no fault in the metropolis +for food of whatever quality to feed upon; and they were soon +accommodated with excitement to their hearts content at a fashionable +gambling saloon on Broadway. The colonel played with recklessness and +daring that, if he carries it to the battle-field, will wreathe his brow +with laurels; but like many a rash soldier before him, he did not win. +On the contrary, his eagles took flight with a rapidity suggestive of +the old adage that "gold hath wings," and when, long after midnight, he +stood upon the deserted street alone with Philip Searle and his +reflections, he was a sadder and a soberer man. + +"Searle, I'm a ruined man." + +"You'll fight all the better for it," replied Philip, knocking the ashes +from his segar. "Come, you'll never mend the matter by taking cold here +in the night air; where do you put up? I'll see you home." + +"D--n you, you take it easy," said the colonel, bitterly. Philip could +afford to take it easy, for he had most of the colonel's money in his +pocket. In fact, the unhappy votary of Mars was more thoroughly ruined +than his companion was aware of, for when fortune was hitting him +hardest, he had not hesitated to bring into action a reserve of +government funds which had been intrusted to his charge for specific +purposes. + +"Searle," said the colonel, after they had walked along silently for a +few minutes, "I was telling you this evening about that vacant +captaincy." + +"Yes, you were telling me I shouldn't have it," replied Philip, with an +accent of injured friendship. + +"Well, I fancied it out of my power to do anything about it. But"-- + +"Well, but?"-- + +"I think I might get it for you, for--for"---- + +"A consideration?" suggested Philip, interrogatively. + +"Well, to be plain with you, let me have five hundred, and you've won +all of that to-night, and I'll get you the captaincy." + +"We'll talk about it to-morrow morning," replied Philip. + +And in the morning the bargain was concluded; Philip, with the promise +that all should be satisfactorily arranged, started the same day for +Washington, to await the commission so honorably disposed of by the +gallant colonel. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +We will let thirty days pass on, and bear the reader South of the +Potomac, beyond the Federal lines and within rifle-shot of an advanced +picket of the Confederate army, under General Beauregard. It was a +dismal night--the 16th of July. The rain fell heavily and the wind +moaned and shrieked through the lone forests like unhappy spirits +wailing in the darkness. A solitary horseman was cautiously wending his +way through the storm upon the Centreville road and toward the +Confederate Hue. He bore a white handkerchief, and from time to time, as +his ear seemed to catch a sound other than the voice of the tempest, he +drew his rein and raised the fluttering symbol at his drawn sword's +point. Through the dark masses of foliage that skirted the roadside, +presently could be seen the fitful glimmer of a watchfire, and the +traveller redoubled his precautions, but yet rode steadily on. + +"Halt!" cried a stern, loud voice from a clump of bushes that looked +black and threatening in the darkness. The horseman checked his horse +and sat immovable in the centre of the road. + +"Who goes there?" followed quick, in the same deep, peremptory tone. + +"An officer of the United States, with a flag of truce," was answered in +a clear, firm voice. + +"Stand where you are." There was a pause, and presently four dark forms +emerged from the roadside, and stood at the horse's head. + +"You've chosen a strange time for your errand, and a dangerous one," +said one of the party, with a mild and gentlemanly accent. + +"Who speaks?" + +"The officer in command of this picket." + +"Is not that Beverly Weems?" + +"The same. And surely I know that voice." + +"Of course you do, if you know Harold Hare." + +And the stranger, dismounting, stretched out his hand, which was eagerly +and warmly clasped, and followed by a silent and prolonged embrace. + +"How rash you have been, Harold," said Beverly, at last. "It is a mercy +that I was by, else might a bullet have been your welcome. Why did you +not wait till morning?" + +"Because my mission admits of no delay. It is most opportune that I have +met you. You have spoken to me at times, and Oriana often, of your young +cousin, Miranda." + +"Yes, Harold, what of her?" + +"Beverly, she is within a rifle-shot of where we stand, very sick--dying +I believe." + +"Good God, Harold! what strange tale is this?" + +"I am in command of an advanced picket, stationed at the old farm-house +yonder. Toward dusk this evening, a carriage drove up, and when +challenged, a pass was presented, with orders to assist the bearer, +Miranda Ayleff, beyond the lines. I remembered the name, and stepping to +the carriage door, beheld two females, one of whom was bending over her +companion, and holding a vial, a restorative, I suppose, to her lips. + +"'She has fainted, sir,' said the woman, 'and is very ill. I'm afraid +she won't last till she gets to Richmond. Can't you help her; isn't +there a surgeon among you at the farm-house there?' + +"We had no surgeon, but I had her taken into the house, and made as +comfortable as possible. When she recovered from her swoon, she asked +for you, and repeatedly for Oriana, and would not be comforted until I +promised her that she should be taken immediately on to Richmond. 'She +could not die there, among strangers,' she said; 'she must see one +friend before she died. She must go home at once and be forgiven.' And +thus she went, half in delirium, until I feared that her life would pass +away, from sheer exhaustion. I determined to ride over to your picket at +once, not dreaming, however, that you were in command. At dawn to-morrow +we shall probably be relieved, and it might be beyond my power then to +meet her wishes." + +"I need not say how much I thank you, Harold. But you were ever kind and +generous. Poor girl! Let us ride over at once, Harold. Who is her +companion?" + +"A woman some years her senior, but yet young, though prematurely faded. +I could get little from her. Not even her name. She is gloomy and +reserved, even morose at times; but she seems to be kind and attentive +to Miranda." + +Beverly left some hasty instructions with his sergeant, and rode over +with Harold to the farm-house. They found Miranda reclining upon a couch +of blankets, over which Harold had spread his military cloak, for the +dwelling had been stripped of its furniture, and was, in fact, little +more than a deserted ruin. The suffering girl was pale and attenuated, +and her sunken eyes were wild and bright with the fire of delirium. Yet +she seemed to recognize Beverly, and stretched out her thin arms when he +approached, exclaiming in tremulous accents: + +"Take me home, Beverly, oh, take me home!" + +Moll was seated by her side, upon a soldier's knapsack; her chin resting +upon her hands, and her black eyes fixed sullenly upon the floor. She +would give but short and evasive answers to Beverly's questions, and +stubbornly refused to communicate the particulars of Miranda's history. + +"She broke a blood-vessel a month ago in Boston. But she got better, +and was always wanting to go to her friends in Richmond. And so I +brought her on. And now you must take care of her, for I'm going back to +camp." + +This was about all the information she would give, and the two young men +ceased to importune her, and directed their attentions to the patient. + +The carriage was prepared and the cushions so arranged, with the help of +blankets, as to form a kind of couch within the vehicle. Upon this +Miranda was tenderly lifted, and when she was told that she should be +taken home without delay, and would soon see Oriana, she smiled like a +pleased child, and ceased complaining. + +Beverly stood beside his horse, with his hand clasped in Harold's. The +rain poured down upon them, and the single watchfire, a little apart +from which the silent sentinel stood leaning on his rifle, threw its +rude glare upon their saddened faces. + +"Good bye, old friend," said Beverly. "We have met strangely to-night, +and sadly. Pray heaven we may not meet more sadly on the battle-field." + +"Tell Oriana," replied Harold, "that I am with her in my prayers." He +had not spoken of her before, although Beverly had mentioned that she +was at the old manor house, and well. "I have not heard from Arthur," he +continued, "for I have been much about upon scouting parties since I +came, but I doubt not he is well, and I may find a letter when I return +to camp. Good bye; and may our next meeting see peace upon the land." + +They parted, and the carriage, with Beverly riding at its side, moved +slowly into the darkness, and was gone. + +Harold returned into the farm-house, and found Moll seated where he had +left her, and still gazing fixedly at the floor. He did not disturb her, +but paced the floor slowly, lost in his own melancholy thoughts. After a +silence of some minutes, the woman spoke, without looking up. + +"Have they gone?" + +"Yes." + +"She is dying, ain't she?" + +"I fear she is very ill." + +"I tell you, she's dying--and it's better that she is." + +She then relapsed into her former mood, but after a while, as Harold +paused at the window and looked out, she spoke again. + +"Will it soon be day?" + +"Within an hour, I think," replied Harold. "Do you go back at daylight?" + +"Yes." + +"You have no horse?" + +"You'll lend me one, won't you? If you don't, I don't care; I can walk." + +"We will do what we can for you. What is your business at the camp?" + +"Never mind," she answered gruffly. And then, after a pause, she asked: + +"Is there a man named Searle in your army--Philip Searle?" + +"Nay, I know not. There may be. I have never heard the name. Do you seek +such a person? Is he your friend, or relative?" + +"Never mind," she said again, and then was silent as before. + +With the approach of dawn, the sentry challenged an advancing troop, +which proved to be the relief picket guard. Harold saluted the officer +in command, and having left orders respectively with their +subordinates, they entered the farm-house together, and proceeded to the +apartment where Moll still remained seated. She did not seem to notice +their entrance; but when the new-comer's voice, in some casual remark, +reached her ear, she rose up suddenly, and walking straight forward to +where the two stood, looking out at the window, she placed her hand +heavily, and even rudely, upon his shoulder. He turned at the touch, and +beholding her, started back, with not only astonishment, but fear. + +"You needn't look so white, Philip Searle," she said at last, in a low, +hoarse tone. "It's not a ghost you're looking at. But perhaps you're +only angry that you only half did your business while you were at it." + +"Where did you pick up this woman?" asked Searle of Harold, drawing him +aside. + +"She came with an invalid on her way to Richmond," replied Harold. + +"What invalid?" + +He spoke almost in a whisper, but Moll overheard him, and answered +fiercely: + +"One that is dying, Philip; and you know well enough who murdered her. +'Twasn't me you struck the hardest blow that night. Do you see that +scar? That's nothing; but you struck her to the heart." + +"What does she mean?" asked Harold, looking sternly into Philip's +disturbed eye. + +"Heaven knows. She's mad," he answered. "Did she tell you nothing--no +absurd story?" + +"Nothing. She was sullen and uncommunicative, and half the time took no +notice of our questions." + +"No wonder, poor thing!" said Philip. "She's mad. However, I have some +little power with her, and if you will leave us alone awhile, I will +prevail upon her to go quietly back to Washington." + +Harold went up to the woman, who was leaning with folded arms against +the wall, and spoke kindly to her. + +"Should you want assistance, I will help you. We shall be going in half +an hour. You must be ready to go with us, you know, for you can't stay +here, where there may be fighting presently." + +"Thank you," she replied. "Don't mind me. I can take care of myself. +You can leave us alone together. I'm not afraid of him." + +Harold left the room, and busied himself about the preparations for +departure. Left alone with the woman he had wronged, Philip for some +moments paced the room nervously and with clouded brow. Finally, he +stopped abruptly before Moll, who had been following his motions with +her wild, unquiet eyes. + +"Where have you sprung from now, and what do you want?" + +"Do you see that scar?" she said again, but more fiercely than before. +"While that lasts, there's no love 'twixt you and me, and it'll last me +till my death." + +"Then why do you trouble me. If you don't love me, why do you hang about +me wherever I go? We'll be better friends away from each other than +together. Why don't you leave me alone?" + +"Ha! ha! we must be quits for that, you know," she answered, rather +wildly, and pointing to her forehead. "Do you think I'm a poor whining +fool like her, to get sick and die when you abuse me? I'll haunt you +till I die, Philip; and after, too, if I can, to punish you for that." + +Philip fancied that he detected the gleam of insanity in her eye, and he +was not wrong, for the terrible blow he had inflicted had injured her +brain; and her mind, weakened by dissipation and the action of +excitement upon her violent temperament, was tottering upon the verge of +madness. + +"When I was watching that poor sick girl," she continued, "I thought I +could have loved her, she was so beautiful and gentle, as she lay there, +white and thin, and never speaking a word against you, Philip, but +thinking of her friends far away, and asking to be taken home--home, +where her mother was sleeping under the sod--home, to be loved and +kissed again before she died. And I would have loved her if I hadn't +hated you so much that there wasn't room for the love of any living +creature in my bad heart. I used to sit all night and hear her +talk--talk in her dreams and in her fever--as if there were kind people +listening to her, people that were kind to her long ago. And the room +seemed full of angels sometimes, so that I was afraid to move and look +about; for I could swear I heard the fanning of their wings and the +rustle of their feet upon the carpet. Sometimes I saw big round tears +upon her wasted cheeks, and I wouldn't brush them away, for they looked +like jewels that the angels had dropped there. And then I tried to cry +myself, but, ha! ha! I had to laugh instead, although my heart was +bursting. I wished I could have cried; I'm sure it would have made my +heart so light, and perhaps it would have burst that ring of hot iron +that was pressing so hard around my head. It's there now, sinking and +burning right against my temples. But I can't cry, I haven't since I was +a little girl, long ago, long ago; but I think I cried when mother died, +long ago, long ago." + +She was speaking in a kind of dreamy murmur, while Philip paced the +room; and finally she sank down upon the floor, and sat there with her +hands pressed against her brows, rocking herself to and fro. + +"Moll," said Philip, stooping over her, and speaking in a gentle tone, +"I'm sorry I struck you, indeed I am; but I was drunk, and when you cut +me, I didn't know what I was about. Now let's be friends, there's a +good girl. You must go back to Washington, you know, and to New York, +and stay there till I come back. Won't you, now, Moll?" + +"Won't I? No, Philip Searle, I won't. I'll stay by you till you kill me; +yes, I will. You want to go after that poor girl and torment her; but +she's dying and soon you won't be able to hurt her any more." + +"Was it she, Moll, was it Miranda that came here with you? Was she going +to Richmond?" + +"She was going to heaven, Philip Searle, out of the reach of such as you +and me. I'm good enough for you, Philip, bad as I am; and I'm your wife, +besides." + +"You told her that?" + +"Told her? Ha! ha! Told her? do you think I'm going to make that a +secret? No, no. We're a bad couple, sure enough; but I'm not going to +deny you, for all that. Look you, young man," she continued, addressing +Harold, who at that moment entered the room, "that is Philip Searle, and +Philip Searle is my husband--my husband, curse his black heart! and if +he dares deny it, I'll have him in the State prison, for I can do it." + +"She's perfectly insane," said Philip; but Harold looked thoughtful and +perplexed, and scanned his fellow-officer's countenance with a searching +glance. + +"At all events," he said, "she must not remain here. My good woman, we +are ready now, and you must come with us. We have a horse for you, and +will make you comfortable. Are you ready?" + +"No," she replied, sullenly, "I won't go. I'll stay with my husband." + +"Nay," remonstrated Harold, gently, "you cannot stay here. This is no +place for women. When we arrive at headquarters, you shall tell your +story to General McDowell, and he will see that you are taken care of, +and have justice if you have been wronged. But you must not keep us +waiting. We are soldiers, you know, and must do our duty." + +Still, however, she insisted upon remaining where she was; but when two +soldiers, at a gesture from Harold, approached and took her gently by +the arms, she offered no resistance, and suffered herself to be led +quietly out. Harold coldly saluted Searle, and left him in charge of the +post; while himself and party, accompanied by Moll and the coachman who +had driven them from Washington, were soon briskly marching toward the +camp. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Toward dusk of the same day, while Philip and his lieutenant were seated +at the rude pine table, conversing after their evening meal, the +sergeant of the guard entered with a slip of paper, on which was traced +a line in pencil. + +"Is the bearer below?" asked Philip, as he cast his eyes over the paper. + +"Yes, sir. He was challenged a minute ago, and answered with the +countersign and that slip for you, sir." + +"It's all right, sergeant; you may send him up. Mr. Williams," he +continued, to his comrade, "will you please to look about a little and +see that all is in order. I will speak a few words with this messenger." + +The lieutenant and sergeant left the room, and presently afterward there +entered, closing the door carefully after him, no less a personage than +Seth Rawbon. + +"You're late," said Philip, motioning him to a chair. + +"There's an old proverb to answer that," answered Rawbon, as he +leisurely adjusted his lank frame upon the seat. Having established +himself to his satisfaction, he continued: + +"I had to make a considerable circuit to avoid the returning picket, who +might have bothered me with questions. I'm in good time, though. If +you've made up your mind to go, you'll do it as well by night, and safer +too." + +"What have you learned?" + +"Enough to make me welcome at headquarters. You were right about the +battle. There'll be tough work soon. They're fixing for a general +advance. If you expect to do your first fighting under the stars and +bars, you must swear by them to-night." + +"Have you been in Washington?" + +"Every nook and corner of it. They don't keep their eyes skinned, I +fancy, up there. Your fancy colonels have slippery tongues when the +champagne corks are flying. If they fight as hard as they drink, they'll +give us trouble. Well, what do you calculate to do?" he added, after a +pause, during which Philip was moody and lost in thought. + +Philip rose from his seat and paced the floor uneasily, while Rawbon +filled a glass from a flask of brandy on the table. It was now quite +dark without, and neither of them observed the figure of a woman +crouched on the narrow veranda, her chin resting on the sill of the open +window. At last Philip resumed his seat, and he, too, swallowed a deep +draught from the flask of brandy. + +"Tell me what I can count upon?" he asked. + +"The same grade you have, and in a crack regiment. It's no use asking +for money. They've none to spare for such as you--now don't look +savage--I mean they won't buy men that hain't seen service, and you +can't expect them to. I told you all about that before, and it's time +you had your mind made up." + +"What proofs of good faith can you give me?" + +Rawbon thrust his hand into his bosom and drew out a roll of parchment. + +"This commission, under Gen. Beauregard's hand, to be approved when you +report yourself at headquarters." + +Philip took the document and read it attentively, while Rawbon occupied +himself with filling his pipe from a leathern pouch. The female figure +stepped in at the window, and, gliding noiselessly into the room, seated +herself in a third chair by the table before either of the men became +aware of her presence. They started up with astonishment and +consternation. She did not seem to heed them, but leaning upon the +table, she stretched her hand to the brandy flask and applied it to her +lips. + +"Who's this?" demanded Rawbon, with his hand upon the hilt of his large +bowie knife. + +"Curse her! my evil genius," answered Philip, grating his teeth with +anger. It was Moll. + +"What's this, Philip!" she said, clutching the parchment which had been +dropped upon the table. + +"Leave that," ejaculated her husband, savagely, and darting to take it +from her. + +But she eluded his grasp, and ran with the document into a corner of the +room. + +"Ha! ha! ha! I know what it is," she said, waving it about as a +schoolboy sometimes exultingly exhibits a toy that he has mischievously +snatched from a comrade. + +"It's your death-warrant, Philip Searle, if somebody sees it over +yonder. I heard you. I heard you. You're going over to fight for Jeff. +Davis. Well, I don't care, but I'll go with you. Don't come near me. +Don't hurt me, Philip, or I'll scream to the soldier out there." + +"I won't hurt you, Moll. Be quiet now, there's a good girl. Come here +and take a sup more of brandy." + +"I won't. You want to hurt me. But you can't. I'm a match for you both. +Ha! ha! You don't know how nicely I slipped away from the soldiers when +they, were resting. I went into the thick bushes, right down in the +water, and lay still. I wanted to laugh when I saw them, hunting for me, +and I could almost have touched the young officer if I had wished. But I +lay still as a mouse, and they went off and never found me. Ha! ha! ha!" + +"Is she drunk or mad?" asked Rawbon. + +"Mad," answered Philip, "but cunning enough to do mischief, if she has a +mind to. Moll, dear, come sit down here and be quiet; come, now." + +"Mad? mad?" murmured Moll, catching his word. "No, I'm not mad," she +continued wildly, passing her hands over her brows, "but I saw spirits +just now in the woods, and heard voices, and they've frightened me. The +ghost of the girl that died in the hospital was there. You knew little +blue-eyed Lizzie, Philip. She was cursing me when she died and calling +for her mother. But I don't care. The man paid me well for getting her, +and 'twasn't my fault if she got sick and died. Poor thing! poor thing! +poor little blue-eyed Lizzie! She was innocent enough when she first +came, but she got to be as bad as any--until she got sick and died. Poor +little Lizzie!" And thus murmuring incoherently, the unhappy woman sat +down upon the floor, and bent her head upon her knees. + +"Clap that into her mouth," whispered Philip, handing Rawbon his +handkerchief rolled tightly into a ball. "Quietly now, but quick. Look +out now. She's strong as a trooper." + +They approached her without noise, but suddenly, and while Philip +grasped her wrists, Rawbon threw back her head, and forcing the jaws +open by a violent pressure of his knuckles against the joint, thrust +the handkerchief between her teeth and bound it tightly there with two +turns of his sash. The shriek was checked upon her lips and changed into +a painful, gurgling groan. The poor creature, with convulsive efforts, +struggled to free her arms from Philip's grasp, but he managed to keep +his hold until Rawbon had secured her wrists with the stout cord that +suspended his canteen. A silk neckerchief was then tightly bound around +her ankles, and Moll, with heaving breast and glaring eyes, lay, moaning +piteously, but speechless and motionless, upon the floor. + +"We can leave her there," said Rawbon. "It's not likely any of your men +will come in, until morning at least. Let's be off at once." + +Philip snatched up the parchment where it had fallen, and silently +followed his companion. + +"We are going beyond the line to look about a bit," he said to the +sergeant on duty, as they passed his post. "Keep all still and quiet +till we return." + +"Take some of the boys with you, captain," replied the sergeant. "We're +unpleasant close to those devils, sir." + +"It's all right, sergeant. There's no danger," And nodding to Seth, the +two walked leisurely along the road until concealed by the darkness, +when they quickened their pace and pushed boldly toward the Confederate +lines. + +Half an hour, or less perhaps, after their departure, the sentry, posted +at about a hundred yards from the house, observed an unusual light +gleaming from the windows of the old farm-house. He called the attention +of Lieutenant Williams, who was walking by in conversation with the +sergeant, to the circumstance. + +"Is not the captain there?" asked the lieutenant. + +"No, sir," replied the sergeant, "he started off to go beyond the line +half an hour ago." + +"Alone?" + +"No, sir; that chap that came in at dusk was with him." + +"It's strange he should have gone without speaking to me about it." + +"I wanted him to take some of our fellows along, sir, but he didn't care +to. By George! that house is afire, sir. Look there." + +While talking, they had been proceeding toward the farm-house, when the +light from the windows brightened suddenly into a broad glare, and +called forth the sergeant's exclamation. Before they reached the +building a jet of flame had leaped from one of the casements, and +continued to whirl like a flaming ribbon in the air. They quickened +their pace to a run, and bursting into the doorway, were driven back by +a dense volume of smoke, that rolled in black masses along the corridor. +They went in again, and the sergeant pushed open the door of the room +where Moll lay bound, but shut it quickly again, as a tongue of flame +lashed itself toward him like an angry snake. + +"It's all afire, sir," he said, coughing and spluttering through the +smoke. "Are there any of the captain's traps inside?" + +"Nothing at all," replied the lieutenant. "Let's go in, however, and see +what can be done." + +They entered, but were driven back by the baffling smoke and the flames +that were now licking all over the dry plastering of the room. + +"It's no use," said the lieutenant, when they had gained their breath in +the open air. "There's no water, except in the brook down yonder, and +what the men have in their canteens. The house is like tinder. Let it +go, sergeant; it's not worth saving at the risk of singing your +whiskers." + +The men had now come up, and gathered about the officer to receive his +commands. + +"Let the old shed go, my lads," he said. "It's well enough that some +rebel should give us a bonfire now and then. Only stand out of the +glare, boys, or you may have some of those devils yonder making targets +of you." + +The men fell back into the shadow, and standing in little groups, or +seated upon the sward, watched the burning house, well pleased to have +some spectacle to relieve the monotony of the night. And they looked +with indolent gratification, passing the light jest and the merry word, +while the red flames kept up their wild sport, and great masses of +rolling vapor upheaved from the crackling roof, and blackened the +midnight sky. None sought to read the mystery of that conflagration. It +was but an old barn gone to ashes a little before its time. Perhaps some +mischievous hand among them had applied the torch for a bit of +deviltry. Perhaps the flames had caught from Rawbon's pipe, which he had +thrown carelessly among a heap of rubbish when startled by Molly's +sudden apparition. Or yet, perhaps, though Heaven forbid it, for the +sake of human nature, the same hand that had struck so nearly fatally +once, had been tempted to complete the work of death in a more terrible +form. + +But within those blistering walls, who can tell what ghastly revels the +mad flames were having over their bound and solitary victim! Perhaps, as +she lay there with distended jaws, and eyeballs starting from their +sockets, that brain, amid the visions of its madness, became conscious +of the first kindling of the subtle element that was so soon to clasp +her in its terrible embrace. How dreadful, while the long minutes +dragged, to watch its stealthy progress, and to feel that one little +effort of an unbound hand could avert the danger, and yet to lie there +helpless, motionless, without even the power to give utterance to the +shriek of terror which strained her throat to suffocation. And then, as +the creeping flame became stronger and brighter, and took long and +silent leaps from one object to another, gliding along the lathed, and +papered wall, rolling and curling along the raftered ceiling, would not +the wretched woman, raving already in delirium, behold the spectres that +her madness feared, beckoning to her in the lurid glare, or gliding in +and out among the wild fires that whirled in fantastic gambols around +and overhead! Nearer and nearer yet the rolling flame advances; it +commences to hiss and murmur in its progress; it wreathes itself about +the chairs and tables, and laps up the little pool of brandy spilled +from the forgotten flask; it plays about her feet, and creeps lazily +amid the folds of her gown, yet wet from the brook in which she had +concealed herself that day; it scorches and shrivels up the flesh upon +her limbs, while pendent fiery tongues leap from the burning rafters, +and kiss her cheeks and brows where the black veins swell almost to +bursting; every muscle and nerve of her frame is strained with +convulsive efforts to escape, but the cords only sink into the bloating +flesh, and she lies there crisping like a log, and as powerless to +move. The dense, black smoke hangs over her like a pall, but prostrate +as she is, it cannot sink low enough to suffocate and end her agony. How +the bared bosom heaves! how the tortured limbs writhe, and the +blackening cuticle emits a nauseous steam! The black blood oozing from +her nostrils proclaims how terrible the inward struggle. The whole frame +bends and shrinks, and warps like a fragment of leather thrown into a +furnace--the flame has reached her vitals--at last, by God's mercy, she +is dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +At dawn of the morning of the 21st of July, an officer in plain undress +was busily writing at a table in a plainly-furnished apartment of a +farm-house near Manassas. He was of middle age and medium size, with +dark complexion, bold, prominent features, and steady, piercing black +eyes. His manner and the respectful demeanor of several officers in +attendance, rather than any insignia of office which he wore, bespoke +him of high rank; and the earnest attention which he bestowed upon his +labor, together with the numerous orders, written and verbal, which he +delivered at intervals to members of his staff, denoted that an affair +of importance was in hand. Several horses, ready caparisoned, were held +by orderlies at the door-way, and each aid, as he received instructions, +mounted and dashed away at a gallop. + +The building was upon a slight elevation of land, and along the plain +beneath could be seen the long rows of tents and the curling smoke of +camp-fires; while the hum of many voices in the distance, with here and +there a bugle-blast and the spirit-stirring roll of drums, denoted the +site of the Confederate army. The reveille had just sounded, and the din +of active preparation could be heard throughout the camp. Regiments were +forming, and troops of horse were marshalling in squadron, while others +were galloping here and there; while, through the ringing of sabres and +the strains of marshal music, the low rumbling of the heavy-wheeled +artillery was the most ominous sound. + +An orderly entered the apartment where General Beauregard was writing, +and spoke with one of the members of the staff in waiting. + +"What is it, colonel?" asked the general, looking up. + +"An officer from the outposts, with two prisoners, general." And he +added something in a lower tone. + +"Very opportune," said Beauregard. "Let them come in." + +The orderly withdrew and reentered with Captain Weems, followed by +Philip Searle and Rawbon. A glance of recognition passed between the +latter and Beauregard, and Seth, obeying a gesture of the general, +advanced and placed a small package on the table. The general opened it +hastily and glanced over its contents. + +"As I thought," he muttered. "You are sure as to the disposition of the +advance?" + +"Quite sure of the main features." + +"When did you get in?" + +"Only an hour ago. Their vanguard was close behind. Before noon, I think +they will be upon you in three columns from the different roads." + +"Very well, you may go now. Come to me in half an hour. I shall have +work for you. Who is that with you?" + +"Captain Searle." + +"Of whom we spoke?" + +"The same." + +The general nodded, and Seth left the apartment. Beauregard for a second +scanned Philip's countenance with a searching glance. + +"Approach, sir, if you please. We have little time for words. Have you +information to impart?" + +"Nothing beyond what I think you know already. You may expect at every +moment to hear the boom of McDowell's guns." + +"On the right?" + +"I think the movement will be on your left. Richardson remains on the +southern road, in reserve. Tyler commands the centre. Carlisle, Bicket +and Ayre will give you trouble there with their batteries. Hunter and +Heintzelman, with fourteen thousand, will act upon your left." + +"Then we are wrong, Taylor," said Beauregard, turning to an officer at +his side; and rising, the two conversed for a moment in low but earnest +tone. + +"It is plausible," said Beauregard, at length. "Taylor, ride down to Bee +and see about it. Captain Searle, you will report yourself to Colonel +Hampton at once. He will have orders for you. Captain Weems, you will +please see him provided for. Come, gentlemen, to the field!" + +The general and his staff were soon mounted and riding rapidly toward +the masses and long lines of troops that were marshalling on the plain +below. + +Beverly stood at the doorway alone with Philip Searle. He was grave and +sad, although the bustle and preparation of an expected battle lent a +lustre to his eye. To his companion he was stern and distant, and they +both walked onward for some moments without a word. At a short distance +from the building, they came upon a black groom holding two saddled +horses. + +"Mount, sir, if you please," said Beverly, and they rode forward at a +rapid pace. Philip was somewhat surprised to observe that their course +lay away from the camp, and in fact the sounds of military life were +lessening as they went on. They passed the brow of the hill and +descended by a bridle-path into a little valley, thick with shrubbery +and trees. At the gateway of a pleasant looking cottage Beverly drew +rein. + +"I must ask you to enter here," he said, dismounting. "Within a few +hours we shall both be, probably, in the ranks of battle; but first I +have a duty to perform." + +They entered the cottage, within which all was hushed and still; the +sounds of an active household were not heard. They ascended the little +stair, and Beverly pushed gently open the door of an apartment and +motioned to Philip to enter. He paused at first, for as he stood on the +threshold a low sob reached his ear. + +"Pass in," said Beverly, in a grave, stern tone. "I have promised that I +would bring you, else, be assured, I would not linger in your presence." + +They entered. It was a small, pleasant room, and through the lattice +interwoven with woodbine the rising sun looked in like a friendly +visitor. Upon a bed was stretched the form of a young girl, sleeping or +dead, it would be hard to tell, the features were so placid and +beautiful in repose. One ray of sunlight fell among the tangles of her +golden hair, and glowed like a halo above the marble-white brow. The +long dark lashes rested upon her cheek with a delicate contrast like +that of the velvety moss when it peeps from the new-fallen snow. Her +hands were folded upon her bosom above the white coverlet; they clasped +a lily, that seemed as if sculptured upon a churchyard stone, so white +was the flower, so white the bosom that it pressed. One step nearer +revealed that she was dead; earthly sleep was never so calm and +beautiful. By the bedside Oriana Weems was seated, weeping silently. +She arose when her brother entered, and went to him, putting her hands +about his neck. Beverly tenderly circled his arm about her waist, and +they stood together at the bedside, gazing on all that death had left +upon earth of their young cousin, Miranda. + +"She died this morning very soon after you left," said Oriana, "without +pain and I think without sorrow, for she wore that same sweet smile that +you see now frozen upon her lips. Oh, Beverly, I am sorry you brought +_him_ here!" she added, in a lower tone, glancing with a shudder at +Philip Searle, who stood looking with a frown out at the lattice, and +stopping the sunbeam from coming into the room. "It seems," she +continued, "as if his presence brought a curse that would drag upon the +angels' wings that are bearing her to heaven. Though, thank God, she is +beyond his power to harm her now!" and she knelt beside the pillow and +pressed her lips upon the cold, white brow. + +"She wished to see him, Oriana, before she died," said Beverly, "and I +promised to bring him; and yet I am glad she passed away before his +coming, for I am sure he could bring no peace with him for the dying, +and his presence now is but an insult to the dead." + +When he had spoken, there was silence for a while, which was broken by +the sudden boom of a distant cannon. They all started at the sound, for +it awakened them from mournful memories, to yet perhaps more solemn +thoughts of what was to come before that bright sun should rise upon the +morrow. Beverly turned slowly to where Philip stood, and pointed sternly +at the death-bed. + +"You have seen enough, if you have dared to look at all," he said. "I +have not the power, nor the will, to punish. A soldier's death to-day is +what you can best pray for, that you may not live to think of this +hereafter. She sent for you to forgive you, but died and you are +unforgiven. Bad as you are, I pity you that you must go to battle +haunted by the remembrance of this murder that you have done." + +Philip half turned with an angry curl upon his lip, as if prepared for +some harsh answer; but he saw the white thin face and folded hands, and +left the room without a word. + +"Farewell! dear sister," said Beverly, clasping the weeping girl in his +arms. "I have already overstaid the hour, and must spur hard to be at my +post in time. God bless you! it may be I shall never see you again; if +so, I leave you to God and my country. But I trust all will be well." + +"Oh, Beverly! come back to me, my brother; I am alone in the world +without you. I would not have you swerve from your duty, although death +came with it; but yet, remember that I am alone without you, and be not +rash or reckless. I will watch and pray for you beside this death-bed, +Beverly, while you are fighting, and may God be with you." + +Beverly summoned an old negress to the room, and consigned his sister to +her care. Descending the stairs rapidly, he leaped upon his horse, and +waving his hand to Philip, who was already mounted, they plunged along +the valley, and ascending the crest of the hill, beheld, while they +still spurred on, the vast army in motion before them, while far off in +the vanward, from time to time, the dull, heavy booming of artillery +told that the work was already begun. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +On the evening of the 20th July, Hunter's division, to which Harold Hare +was attached, was bivouacked on the old Braddock Road, about a mile and +a half southeast of Centreville. It was midnight. There was a strange +and solemn hush throughout the camp, broken only by the hail of the +sentinel and the occasional trampling of horses hoofs, as some +aid-de-camp galloped hastily along the line. Some of the troops were +sleeping, dreaming, perhaps, of home, and far away, for the time, from +the thought of the morrow's danger. But most were keeping vigil through +the long hours of darkness, communing with themselves or talking in low +murmurs with some comrade; for each soldier knew that the battle-hour +was at hand. Harold was stretched upon his cloak, striving in vain to +win the boon of an hour's sleep, for he was weary with the toil of the +preceding day; but he could not shut out from his brain the whirl of +excitement and suspense which that night kept so many tired fellows +wakeful when they most needed rest. It was useless to court slumber, on +the eve, perhaps, of his eternal sleep; he arose and walked about into +the night. + +Standing beside the dying embers of a watchfire, wrapped in his blanket, +and gazing thoughtfully into the little drowsy flames that yet curled +about the blackened fagots, was a tall and manly form, which Harold +recognized as that of his companion in arms, a young lieutenant of his +company. He approached, and placed his hand upon his fellow-soldier's +arm. + +"What book of fate are you reading in the ashes, Harry?" he asked, in a +pleasant tone, anxious to dispel some portion of his own and his +comrade's moodiness. + +The soldier turned to him and smiled, but sorrowfully and with effort. + +"My own destiny, perhaps," he answered. "Those ashes were glowing once +with light and warmth, and before the dawn they will be cold, as you or +I may be to-morrow, Harold." + +"I thought you were too old a soldier to nurse such fancies upon the +eve of battle. I must confess that I, who am a novice in this work, am +as restless and nervous as a woman; but you have been seasoned by a +Mexican campaign, and I came to you expressly to be laughed into +fortitude again." + +"You must go on till you meet one more lighthearted than myself," +answered the other, with a sigh. "Ah! Harold, I have none of the old +elasticity about me to-night. I would I were back under my father's +roof, never to hear the roll of the battle-drum again. This is a cruel +war, Harold." + +"A just one." + +"Yes, but cruel. Have you any that you love over yonder, Harold? Any +that are dear to you, and that you must strike at on the morrow?" + +"Yes, Harry, that is it. It is, as you say, a cruel war." + +"I have a brother there," continued his companion; and he looked sadly +into the gloom, as if he yearned through the darkness and distance to +catch a glimpse of the well-known form. "A brother that, when I last saw +him, was a little rosy-cheeked boy, and used to ride upon my knee. He +is scarce more than a boy now, and yet he will shoulder his musket +to-morrow, and stand in the ranks perhaps to be cut down by the hand +that has caressed him. He was our mother's darling, and it is a mercy +that she is not living to see us armed against each other." + +"It is a painful thought," said Harold, "and one that you should dismiss +from contemplation. The chances are thousands to one that you will never +meet in battle." + +"I trust the first bullet that will be fired may reach my heart, rather +than that we should. But who can tell? I have a strange, gloomy feeling +upon me; I would say a presentiment, if I were superstitious." + +"It is a natural feeling upon the eve of battle. Think no more of it. +Look how prettily the moon is creeping from under the edge of yonder +cloud. We shall have a bright day for the fight, I think." + +"Yes, that's a comfort. One fights all the better in the warm sunlight, +as if to show the bright heavens what bloodthirsty devils we can be upon +occasion. Hark!" + +It was the roll of the drum, startling the stillness of the night; and +presently, the brief, stern orders of the sergeants could be heard +calling the men into the ranks. There is a strange mingled feeling of +awe and excitement in this marshalling of men at night for a dangerous +expedition. The orders are given instinctively in a more subdued and +sterner tone, as if in unison with the solemnity of the hour. The tramp +of marching feet strikes with a more distinct and hollow sound upon the +ear. The dark masses seem to move more compactly, as if each soldier +drew nearer to his comrade for companionship. The very horses, although +alert and eager, seem to forego their prancing, and move with sober +tread. And when the word "forward!" rings along the dark column, and the +long and silent ranks bend and move on as with an electric impulse, +there is a thrill in every vein, and each heart contracts for an +instant, as if the black portals of a terrible destiny were open in the +van. + +A half hour of silent hurry and activity passed away, and at last the +whole army was in motion. It was now three o'clock; the moon shone down +upon the serried ranks, gleaming from bayonet and cannon, and +stretching long black shadows athwart the road. From time to time along +the column could be heard the ringing voice of some commander, as he +galloped to the van, cheering his men with some well-timed allusion, or +dispelling the surrounding gloom with a cheerful promise of victory. +Where the wood road branched from the Warrentown turnpike, Gen. +McDowell, standing in his open carriage, looked down upon the passing +columns, and raised his hat, when the excited soldiers cheered as they +hurried on. Here Hunter's column turned to the right, while the main +body moved straight on to the centre. Then all became more silent than +before, and the light jest passing from comrade to comrade was less +frequent, for each one felt that every step onward brought him nearer to +the foe. + +The eastern sky soon paled into a greyish light, and ruddy streaks +pushed out from the horizon. The air breathed fresher and purer than in +the darkness, and the bright sun, with an advance guard of thin, rosy +clouds, shot upward from the horizon in a blaze of splendor. It was the +Sabbath morn. + +The boom of a heavy gun is heard from the centre. Carlisle has opened +the ball. The day's work is begun. Another! The echoes spring from the +hillsides all around, like a thousand angry tongues that threaten death. +But on the right, no trace of an enemy is to be seen. Burnside's brigade +was in the van; they reached the ford at Sudley's Springs; a momentary +confusion ensues as the column prepares to cross. Soon the men are +pushing boldly through the shallow stream, but the temptation is too +great for their parched throats; they stoop to drink and to fill their +canteens from the cool wave. But as they look up they see a cloud of +dust rolling up from the plain beyond, and their thirst has passed +away--they know that the foe is there. + +An aid comes spurring down the bank, waving his hand and splashing into +the stream. + +"Forward, men! forward!" + +Hunter gallops to meet him, with his staff clattering at his horse's +heels. + +"Break the heads of regiments from the column and push on--push on!" + +The field officers dash along the ranks, and the men spring to their +work, as the word of command is echoed from mouth to mouth. + +Crossing the stream, their course extended for a mile through a thick +wood, but soon they came to the open country, with undulating fields, +rolling toward a little valley through which a brooklet ran. And beyond +that stream, among the trees and foliage which line its bank and extend +in wooded patches southward, the left wing of the enemy are in battle +order. + +From a clump of bushes directly in front, came a puff of white smoke +wreathed with flame; the whir of the hollow ball is heard, and it +ploughs the moist ground a few rods from our advance. + +Scarcely had the dull report reverberated, when, in quick succession, a +dozen jets of fire gleamed out, and the shells came plunging into the +ranks. Burnside's brigade was in advance and unsupported, but under the +iron hail the line was formed, and the cry "Forward!" was answered with +a cheer. A long grey line spread out upon the hillside, forming rapidly +from the outskirts of the little wood. It was the Southern infantry, +and soon along their line a deadly fire of musketry was opened. + +Meanwhile the heavy firing from the left and further on, announced that +the centre and extreme left were engaged. A detachment of regulars was +sent to Burnside's relief, and held the enemy in check till a portion of +Porter's and Heintzelman's division came up and pressed them back from +their position. + +The battle was fiercely raging in the centre, where the 69th had led the +van and were charging the murderous batteries with the bayonet. We must +leave their deeds to be traced by the historic pen, and confine our +narrative to the scene in which Harold bore a part. The nearest battery, +supported by Carolinians, had been silenced. The Mississippians had +wavered before successive charges, and an Alabama regiment, after four +times hurling back the serried ranks that dashed against them, had +fallen back, outflanked and terribly cut up. On the left was a +farm-house, situated on an elevated ridge a little back from the road. +Within, while the fiercest battle raged, was its solitary inmate, an +aged and bed-ridden lady, whose paralyzed and helpless form was +stretched upon the bed where for fourscore years she had slept the calm +sleep of a Christian. She had sent her attendants from the dwelling to +seek a place of safety, but would not herself consent to be removed, for +she heard the whisper of the angel of death, and chose to meet, him +there in the house of her childhood. For the possession of the hill on +which the building stood, the opposing hosts were hotly struggling. The +fury of the battle seemed to concentre there, and through the time-worn +walls the shot was plunging, splintering the planks and beams, and +shivering the stone foundation. Sherman's battery came thundering up the +hill upon its last desperate advance. Just as the foaming horses were +wheeled upon its summit, the van of Hampton's legion sprang up the +opposite side, and the crack of a hundred rifles simultaneously sounded. +Down fell the cannoneers beside their guns before those deadly missiles, +and the plunging horses were slaughtered in the traces, or, wounded to +the death, lashed out their iron hoofs among the maimed and writhing +soldiers and into the heaps of dead. The battery was captured, but held +only fop an instant, when two companies of Rhode Islanders, led on by +Harold Hare, charged madly up the hill. + +"Save the guns, boys!" he cried, as the gallant fellows bent their heads +low, and sprang up the ascent right in the face of the blazing rifles. + +"Fire low! stand firm! drive them back once again, my brave Virginians!" +shouted a young Southern officer, springing to the foremost rank. + +The mutual fire was delivered almost at the rifles' muzzles, and the +long sword-bayonets clashed together. Without yielding ground, for a few +terrible seconds they thrust and parried with the clanging steel, while +on either side the dead were stiffening beneath their feet, and the +wounded, with shrieks of agony, were clutching at their limbs. Harold +and the young Southron met; their swords clashed together once in the +smoke and dust, and but once, when each drew back and lowered his +weapon, while all around were striking. Then, amid that terrible +discord, their two left hands were pressed together for an instant, and +a low "God bless you!" came from the lips of both. + +"To the right, Beverly, keep you to the right!" said Harold, and he +himself, straight through the hostile ranks, sprang in an opposite +direction. + +When Harold's party had first charged up the hill, the young lieutenant +with whom he had conversed beside the watch-fire on the previous +evening, was at the head of his platoon, and as the two bodies met, he +sent the last shot from his revolver full in the faces of the foremost +rank. So close were they, that the victim of that shot, struck in the +centre of the forehead, tottered forward, and fell into his arms. There +was a cry of horror that pierced even above the shrieks of the wounded +and the yells of the fierce combatants. One glance at that fair, +youthful face sufficed;--it was his brother--dead in his arms, dead by a +brother's hand. The yellow hair yet curled above the temples, but the +rosy bloom upon the cheek was gone; already the ashen hue of death was +there. There was a small round hole just where the golden locks waved +from the edge of the brow, and from it there slowly welled a single +globule of black gore. It left the face undisfigured--pale, but tranquil +and undistorted as a sleeping child's--not even a clot of blood was +there to mar its beauty. The strong and manly soldier knelt upon the +dust, and holding the dead boy with both arms clasped about his waist, +bent his head low down upon the lifeless bosom, and gasped with an agony +more terrible than that which the death-wound gives. + +"Charley! Oh God! Charley! Charley!" was all that came from his white +lips, and he sat there like stone, with the corpse in his arms, still +murmuring "Charley!" unconscious that blades were flashing and bullets +whistling around him. The blood streamed from his wounds, the bayonets +were gleaming round, and once a random shot ploughed into his thigh and +shivered the bone. He only bent a little lower and his voice was +fainter; but still he murmured "Charley! Oh God! Charley," and never +unfolded his arms from its embrace. And there, when the battle was over, +the Southrons found him, dead--with his dead brother in his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +At the door-way of the building on the hill, where the aged invalid was +yielding her last breath amid the roar of battle, a wounded officer sat +among the dying and the dead, while the conflict swept a little away +from that quarter of the field. The blood was streaming from the +shattered bosom, and feebly he strove to staunch it with his silken +scarf. He had dragged himself through gore and dust until he reached +that spot, and now, rising again with a convulsive effort, he leaned his +red hands against the wall, and entered over the fragments of the door, +which had been shivered by a shell. With tottering steps he passed along +the hall and up the little stairway, as one who had been familiar with +the place. Before the door of the aged lady's chamber he paused a moment +and listened; all was still there, although the terrible tumult of the +battle was sounding all around. He entered; he advanced to the +bed-side; the dying woman was murmuring a prayer. A random shot had torn +the shrivelled flesh upon her bosom and the white counterpane was +stained with blood. She did not see him--her thoughts were away from +earth, she was already seeking communion with the spirits of the blest. +The soldier knelt by that strange death-bed and leaned his pale brow +upon the pillow. + +"Mother!" + +How strangely the word sounded amid the shouts of combatants and the din +of war. It was like a good angel's voice drowning the discords of hell. + +"Mother!" + +She heard not the cannon's roar, but that one word, scarce louder than +the murmur of a dreaming infant, reached her ear. The palsied head was +turned upon the pillow and the light of life returned to her glazing +eyes. + +"Who speaks?" she gasped, while her thin hands were tremulously clasped +together with emotion. + +"'Tis I, mother. Philip, your son." + +"Philip, my son!" and the nerveless form, that had scarce moved for +years, was raised upon the bed by the last yearning effort of a mother's +love. + +"Is it you, Philip, is it you, indeed? I can scarce see your form, but +surely I have heard the voice of my boy;--my long absent boy. Oh! +Philip! why have I not heard it oftener to comfort my old age?" + +"I am dying, mother. I have been a bad son and a guilty man. But I am +dying, mother. Oh! I am punished for my sin! The avenging bullet struck +me down at the gate of the home I had deserted--the home I have made +desolate to you. Mother, I have crawled here to die." + +"To die! O God! your hand is cold--or is it but the chill of death upon +my own? Oh! I had thought to have said farewell to earth forever, but +yet let me linger but a little while, O Lord! if but to bless my son." +She sank exhausted upon the pillow, but yet clasped the gory fingers of +the dying man. + +"Philip, are you there? Let me hear your voice. I hear strange murmurs +afar off; but not the voice of my son. Are you there, Philip, are you +there?" + +Philip Searle was crouching lower and lower by the bed-side, and his +forehead, upon which the dews of death were starting, lay languidly +beside the thin, white locks that rested on the pillow. + +"Look, mother!" he said, raising his head and glaring into the corner of +the room. "Do you see that form in white?--there--she with the pale +cheeks and golden hair! I saw her once before to-day, when she lay +stretched upon the bed, with a lily in her white fingers. And once again +I saw her in that last desperate charge, when the bullet struck my side. +And now she is there again, pale, motionless, but smiling. Does she +smile in mockery or forgiveness? I could rather bear a frown than that +terrible--that frozen smile. O God! she is coming to me, mother, she is +coming to me--she will lay her cold hand upon me. No--it is not she! it +is Moll--look, mother, it is Moll, all blackened with smoke and seared +with living fire. O God! how terrible! But, mother, I did not do that. +When I saw the flames afar off, I shuddered, for I knew how it must be. +But I did not do it, Moll, by my lost soul, I did not!" He started to +his feet with a convulsive effort. The hot blood spurted from his wound +with the exertion and spattered upon the face and breast of his +mother--but she felt it not, for she was dead. The last glimmering ray +of reason seemed to drive away the phantoms. He turned toward those +sharp and withered features, he saw the fallen jaw and lustreless glazed +eye. A shudder shook his frame at every point, and with a groan of pain +and terror, he fell forward upon the corpse--a corpse himself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +The Federal troops, with successive charges, had now pushed the enemy +from their first position, and the torn battalions were still being +hurled against the batteries that swept their ranks. The excellent +generalship of the Confederate leaders availed itself of the valor and +impetuosity of their assailants to lure them, by consecutive advance and +backward movement, into the deadly range of their well planted guns. It +was then that, far to the right, a heavy column could be seen moving +rapidly in the rear of the contending hosts. Was it a part of Hunter's +division that had turned the enemy's rear? Such was the thought at +first, and with the delusion triumphant cheers rang from the parched +throats of the weary Federals. They were soon to be undeceived. The +stars and bars flaunted amid those advancing ranks, and the constant +yells of the Confederates proclaimed the truth. Johnston was pouring his +fresh troops upon the battle-field. The field was lost, but still was +struggled for in the face of hope. It was now late in the afternoon, and +the soldiers, exhausted with their desperate exertions, fought on, +doggedly, but without that fiery spirit which earlier in the day had +urged them to the cannon's mouth. There was a lull in the storm of +carnage, the brief pause that precedes the last terrific fury of the +tempest. The Confederates were concentrating their energies for a +decisive effort. It came. From the woods that skirted the left centre of +their position, a squadron of horsemen came thundering down upon our +columns. Right down upon Carlisle's battery they rode, slashing the +cannoneers and capturing the guns. Then followed their rushing ranks of +infantry, and full upon our flank swooped down another troop of cavalry, +dashing into the road where the baggage-train had been incautiously +advanced. Our tired and broken regiments were scattered to the right and +left. In vain a few devoted officers spurred among them, and called on +them to rally; they broke from the ranks in every quarter of the field, +and rushed madly up the hillsides and into the shelter of the trees. +The magnificent army that had hailed the rising sun with hopes of +victory was soon pouring along the road in inextricable confusion and +disorderly retreat. Foot soldier and horseman, field-piece and wagon, +caisson and ambulance, teamster and cannoneer, all were mingled together +and rushing backward from the field they had half won, with their backs +to the pursuing foe. That rout has been traced, to our shame, in +history; the pen of the novelist shuns the disgraceful theme. + +Harold, although faint with loss of blood, which oozed from a +flesh-wound in his shoulder, was among the gallant few who strove to +stem the ebbing current; struck at last by a spent ball in the temple, +he fell senseless to the ground. He would have been trampled upon and +crushed by the retreating column, had not a friendly hand dragged him +from the road to a little mound over which spread the branches of an +oak. Here he was found an hour afterward by a body of Confederate troops +and lifted into an ambulance with others wounded and bleeding like +himself. + +While the vehicle, with its melancholy freight, was being slowly +trailed over the scene of the late battle, Harold partially recovered +his benumbed senses. He lay there as in a dream, striving to recall +himself to consciousness of his position. He felt the dull throbbing +pain upon his brow and the stinging sensation in his shoulder, and knew +that he was wounded, but whether dangerously or not he could not judge. +He could feel the trickling of blood from the bosom of a wounded comrade +at his side, and could hear the groans of another whose thigh was +shattered by the fragment of a shell; but the situation brought no +feeling of repugnance, for he was yet half stunned and lay as in a +lethargy, wishing only to drain one draught of water and then to sleep. +The monotonous rumbling of the ambulance wheels sounded distinctly upon +his ear, and he could listen, with a kind of objectless curiosity, to +the casual conversation of the driver, as he exchanged words here and +there with others, who were returning upon the same dismal errand from +the scene of carnage. The shadows of night spread around him, covering +the field of battle like a pall flung in charity by nature over the +corpses of the slain. Then his bewildered fancies darkened with the +surrounding gloom, and he thought that he was coffined and in a hearse, +being dragged to the graveyard to be buried. He put forth his hand to +push the coffin lid, but it fell again with weakness, and when his +fingers came in contact with the splintered bone that protruded from his +neighbor's thigh, and he felt the warm gushing of the blood that welled +with each throb of the hastily bound artery, he puzzled his dreamy +thoughts to know what it might mean. At last all became a blank upon his +brain, and he relapsed once more into unconsciousness. + +And so, from dreamy wakefulness to total oblivion he passed to and fro, +without an interval to part the real from the unreal. He was conscious +of being lifted into the arms of men, and being borne along carefully by +strong arms. Whither? It seemed to his dull senses that they were +bearing him into a sepulchre, but he was not terrified, but careless and +resigned; or if he thought of it at all, it was to rejoice that when +laid there, he should be undisturbed. Presently a vague fancy passed +athwart his mind, that perhaps the crawling worms would annoy him, and +he felt uneasy, but yet not afraid. Afterward, there was a sensation of +quiet and relief, and his brain, for a space, was in repose. Then a +bright form bent over him, and he thought it was an angel. He could feel +a soft hand brushing the dampness from his brow, and fingers, whose +light touch soothed him, parting his clotted hair. The features grew +more distinct, and it pleased him to look upon them, although he strove +in vain to fix them in his memory, until a tear-drop fell upon his +cheek, and recalled his wandering senses; then he knew that Oriana was +bending over him and weeping. + +He was in the cottage where Beverly had last parted from his sister; not +in the same room, for they feared to place him there, where Miranda was +lying in a shroud, with a coffin by her bed-side, lest the sad spectacle +should disturb him when he woke. But he lay upon a comfortable bed in +another room, and Beverly and Oriana stood beside, while the surgeon +dressed his wounds. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +No need to say that Harold was well cared for by his two friendly foes. +Beverly had given his personal parole for his safe keeping, and he was +therefore free from all surveillance or annoyance on that score. His +wounds were not serious, although the contusion on the temple, which, +however, had left the skull uninjured, occasioned some uneasiness at +first. But the third day he was able to leave his bed, and with his arm +in a sling, sat comfortably in an easy-chair, and conversed freely with +his two excellent nurses. + +"Did Beverly tell you of Arthur's imprisonment?" he asked of Oriana, +breaking a pause in the general conversation. + +"Yes," she answered, looking down, with a scarcely perceptible blush +upon her cheek. "Poor Arthur! Yours is a cruel government, Harold, that +would make traitors of such men. His noble heart would not harbor a +dangerous thought, much less a traitorous design." + +"I think with you," said Harold. "There is some strange mistake, which +we must fathom. I received his letter only the day preceding the battle. +Had there been no immediate prospect of an engagement, I would have +asked a furlough, and have answered it in person. I have small reason to +regret my own imprisonment," he added, "my jailers are so kind; yet I do +regret it for his sake." + +"You know that we are powerless to help him," said Beverly, "or even to +shorten your captivity, since your government will not exchange with us. +However, you must write, both to Arthur and to Mr. Lincoln, and I will +use my best interest with the general to have your letters sent on with +a flag." + +"I know that you will do all in your power, and I trust that my +representations may avail with the government, for I judge from Arthur's +letter that he is not well, although he makes no complaint. He is but +delicate at the best, and what with the effects of his late injuries, I +fear that the restraint of a prison may go ill with him." + +"How unnatural is this strife that makes us sorrow for our foes no less +than for our friends?" said Oriana. "I seem to be living in a strange +clime, and in an age that has passed away. And how long can friendship +endure this fiery ordeal? How many scenes of carnage like this last +terrible one can afflict the land, without wiping away all trace of +brotherhood, and leaving in the void the seed of deadly hate?" + +"If this repulse," said Beverly, "which your arms have suffered so early +in the contest, will awaken the North to a sense of the utter futility +of their design of subjugation, the blood that flowed at Manassas will +not have been shed in vain." + +"No, not in vain," replied Harold, "but its fruits will be other than +you anticipate. The North will be awakened, but only to gird up its +loins and put forth its giant strength. The shame of that one defeat +will be worth to us hereafter a hundred victories. The North has +been smitten in its sleep; it will arouse from its lethargy like a lion +awakening under the smart of the hunter's spear. Beverly, base no vain +hopes upon the triumph of the hour; it seals your doom, for it serves +but to throw into the scale against you the aroused energies that till +now have been withheld." + +"You count upon your resources, Harold, like a purse-proud millionaire, +who boasts his bursting coffers. We depend rather upon our determined +hearts and resolute right hands. Upon our power to endure, greater than +yours to inflict, reverse. Upon our united people, and the spirit that +animates them, which can never be subdued. The naked Britons could +defend their native soil against Caesar's legions, the veterans of a +hundred fights. Shall we do less, who have already tasted the fruits of +liberty so dearly earned? Harold, your people have assumed an impossible +task, and you may as well go cast your treasures into the sea as +squander them in arms to smite your kith and kin. We are Americans, like +yourselves; and when you confess that _you_ can be conquered by invading +armies, then dream of conquering us." + +"And we will startle you from your dream with the crack of our Southern +rifles," added Oriana, somewhat maliciously, while Harold smiled at her +enthusiasm. + +"There is a great deal of romance in both your natures," he replied. +"But it is not so good as powder for a fighting medium. The spirit you +boast of will not support you long without the aid of good round +dollars." + +"Thank heaven we have less faith in their efficacy than you Northern +gold-worshippers," observed Oriana, with playful sarcasm. "While our +soldiers have good round corn-cakes, they will ask for no richer metals +than lead and steel. Have you never heard of the regiment of +Mississippians, who, having received their pay in government +certificates, to a man tore up the documents as they took up the line of +march, saying 'we do not fight for money?'" + +Harold smiled, thinking perhaps that nothing better could have been done +with the currency in question. + +"I think," said Beverly, "you are far out of the way in your estimate of +our resources. The South is strictly an agricultural country, and as +such, best able to support itself under the exhaustion consequent upon a +lengthened warfare, especially as it will remain in the attitude of +resistance to invasion. From the bosom of its prolific soil it can draw +its natural nourishment and retain its vigor throughout any period of +isolation, while you are draining your resources for the means of +providing an active aggressive warfare. The rallying of our white +population to the battle field will not interrupt the course of +agricultural pursuit, while every enlistment in the North will take one +man away from the tillage of the land or from some industrial +avocation." + +"Not so," replied Harold. "Our armies for the most part will be +recruited from the surplus population, and abundant hands will remain +behind for the purposes of industry." + +"At first, perhaps. But not after a few more such fields as were fought +on Sunday last. To carry out even a show of your project of subjugation, +you must keep a million of men in the field from year to year. Your +manufacturing interests will be paralyzed, your best customers shut out. +You will be spending enormously and producing little beyond the +necessities of consumption. We, on the contrary, will be producing as +usual, and spending little more than before." + +"Can your armies be fed, clothed, and equipped without expense?" + +"No. But all our means will be applied to military uses, and our +operations will be necessarily much less expensive than yours. In other +matters, we will forget our habits of extravagance. We will become, by +the law of necessity, economists in place of spendthrifts. We will +gather in rich harvests, but will stint ourselves to the bare +necessities of life, that our troops may be fed and clothed. The money +that our wealthy planters have been in the habit of spending yearly in +Northern cities and watering places, will be circulated at home. Some +fifty millions of Southern dollars, heretofore annually wasted in +fashionable dissipation, will thus be kept in our own pockets and out of +yours. The spendthrift sons of our planters, and their yet more +extravagant daughters, will be found studying economy in the rude school +of the soldier, and plying the needle to supply the soldiers' wants, in +place of drawing upon the paternal estates for frivolous enjoyments. Our +spending population will be on the battle-field, and the laborer will +remain in the cotton and corn-field. There will be suffering and +privation, it is true, but rest assured, Harold, we will bear it all +without a murmur, as our fathers did in the days of '76. And we will +trust to the good old soil we are defending to give us our daily bread." + +"Or if it should not," said Oriana, "we can at least claim from it, each +one, a grave, over which the foot of the invader may trample, but not +over our living bodies." + +"I have no power to convince you of your error," answered Harold. "Let +us speak of it no more, since it is destined that the sword must decide +between us. Beverly, you promised that I should go visit my wounded +comrades, who have not yet been removed. Shall we go now? I think it +would do me good to breathe the air." + +They prepared for the charitable errand, and Oriana went with them, with +a little basket of delicacies for the suffering prisoners. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +It was a fair morning in August, the twentieth day after the eventful +21st of July. Beverly was busy with his military duties, and Harold, who +had already fully recovered from his wounds, was enjoying, in company +with Oriana, a pleasant canter over the neighboring country. They came +to where the rolling meadow subsided into a level plain of considerable +extent on either side of the road. At its verge a thick forest formed a +dark background, beyond which the peering summits of green hills showed +that the landscape was rugged and uneven. Oriana slackened her pace, and +pointed out over the broad expanse of level country. + +"You see this plain that stretches to our right and left?" + +"Of course I do," replied Harold. + +"Yes; but I want you to mark it well," she continued, with a significant +glance; "and also that stretch of woodland yonder, beyond which, you +see, the country rises again." + +"Yes, a wild country, I should judge, like that to the left, where we +fought your batteries a month ago." + +"It is, indeed, a wild country as you say. There are ravines there, and +deep glens, fringed with almost impenetrable shrubbery, and deep down in +these recesses flows many a winding water-course, lined and overarched +with twisted foliage. Are you skillful at threading a woodland +labyrinth?" + +"Yes; my surveying expeditions have schooled me pretty well. Why do you +ask? Do you want me to guide you through the wilderness, in search of a +hermit's cave." + +"Perhaps; women have all manner of caprices, you know. But I want you to +pay attention to those landmarks. Over yonder, there are some nooks that +would do well to hide a runaway. I have explored some of them myself, +for I passed some months here formerly, before the war. Poor Miranda's +family resided once in the little cottage where we are stopping now. +That is why I came from Richmond to spend a few days and be with +Beverly. I little thought that my coming would bring me to Miranda's +death-bed. Look there, now: you have a better view of where the forest +ascends into the hilly ground." + +"Why are you so topographical to-day? One would think you were tempting +me to run away," said Harold, smiling, as he followed her pointing +finger with his eyes. + +"No; I know you would not do that, because Beverly, you know, has +pledged himself for your safe-keeping." + +"Very true; and I am therefore a closer prisoner than if I were loaded +down with chains. When do you return to Richmond?" + +"I shall return on the day after to-morrow. Beverly has been charged +with an important service, and will be absent for several weeks. But he +can procure your parole, if you wish, and you can come to the old +manor-house again." + +"I think I shall not accept parole," replied Harold, thoughtfully. "I +must escape, if possible, for Arthur's sake. Beverly, of course, will +release himself from all obligations about me, before he goes?" + +"Yes, to-morrow; but you will be strictly guarded, unless you give +parole. See here, I have a little present for you; it is not very +pretty, but it is useful." + +She handed him a small pocket-compass, set in a brass case. + +"You can have this too," she added, drawing a small but strong and sharp +poignard from her bosom. "But you must promise me never to use it except +to save your life?" + +"I will promise that cheerfully," said Harold, as he received the +precious gifts. + +"To-morrow we will ride out again. We will have the same horses that +bear us so bravely now. Do you note how strong and well-bred is the +noble animal you ride?" + +"Yes," said Harold, patting the glorious arch of his steed's neck. "He's +a fine fellow, and fleet, I warrant." + +"Fleet as the winds. There are few in this neighborhood that can match +him. Let us go home now. You need not tell Beverly that I have given you +presents. And be ready to ride to-morrow at four o'clock precisely." + +He understood her thoroughly, and they cantered homeward, conversing +upon indifferent subjects and reverting no further to their previous +somewhat enigmatical theme. + +On the following afternoon, at four o'clock precisely, the horses were +at the door, and five minutes afterward a mounted officer, followed by +two troopers, galloped up the lane and drew rein at the gateway. + +Harold was arranging the girths of Oriana's saddle, and she herself was +standing in her riding-habit beside the porch. The officer, dismounting, +approached her and raised his cap in respectful salute. He was young and +well-looking, evidently one accustomed to polite society. + +"Good afternoon, Captain Haralson," said Oriana, with her most gracious +smile. "I am very glad to see you, although, as you bring your military +escort, I presume you come to see Beverly upon business, and not for the +friendly visit you promised me. But Beverly is not here." + +"I left him at the camp on duty, Miss Weems," replied the captain. "It +is my misfortune that my own duties have been too strict of late to +permit me the pleasure of my contemplated visit." + +"I must bide my time, captain. Let me introduce my friend. Captain Hare, +our prisoner, Mr. Haralson; but I know you will help me to make him +forget it, when I tell you that he was my brother's schoolmate and is +our old and valued friend." + +The young officer took Harold frankly by the hand, but he looked grave +and somewhat disconcerted as he answered: + +"Captain Hare, as a soldier, will forgive me that my duty compels me to +play a most ungracious part upon our first acquaintance. I have orders +to return with him to headquarters, where I trust his acceptance of +parole will enable me to avail myself of your introduction to show him +what courtesy our camp life admits, in atonement for the execution of my +present unpleasant devoir." + +"I shall esteem your acquaintance the more highly," answered Harold, +"that you know so well to blend your soldiership with kindness. I am +entirely at your disposition, sir, having only to apologize to Miss +Weems for the deprivation of her contemplated ride." + +"Oh, no, we must not lose our ride," said Oriana. "It is perhaps the +last we shall enjoy together, and such a lovely afternoon. I am sure +that Captain Haralson is too gallant to interrupt our excursion." + +She turned to him with an arch smile, but he looked serious as he +replied: + +"Alas! Miss Weems, our gallantry receives some rude rebuffs in the harsh +school of the soldier. It grieves me to mar your harmless recreation, +but even that mortification I must endure when it comes in the strict +line of my duty." + +"But your duty does not forbid you to take a canter with us this +charming afternoon. Now put away that military sternness, which does not +become you at all, and help me to mount my pretty Nelly, who is getting +impatient to be off. And so am I. Come, you will get into camp in due +season, for we will go only as far as the Run, and canter all the way." + +She took his arm, and he assisted her to the saddle, won into +acquiescence by her graceful obstinacy, and, in fact, seeing but little +harm the tufted hills rolled into one another like the waves of a +swelling sea, their crests tipped with the slant rays of the descending +sun, and their graceful slopes alternating among purple shadows and +gleams of floating light. + +"It is indeed so beautiful," answered Harold, "that I should deem you +might be content to live there as of old, without inviting the terrible +companionship of Mars." + +"We do not invite it," said the young captain. "Leave us in peaceful +possession of our own, and no war cries shall echo among those hills. If +Mars has driven his chariot into our homes, he comes at your bidding, an +unwelcome intruder, to be scourged back again." + +"At our bidding! No. The first gun that was fired at Sumter summoned +him, and if he should leave his foot-prints deep in your soil, you have +well earned the penalty." + +"It will cost you, to inflict it, many such another day's work as that +at Manassas a month ago." + +The taunt was spoken hastily, and the young Southron colored as if +ashamed of his discourtesy, and added: + +"Forgive me my ungracious speech. It was my first field, sir, and I am +wont to speak of it too boastingly. I shall become more modest, I hope, +when I shall have a better right to be a boaster." + +"Oh," replied Harold, "I admit the shame of our discomfiture, and take +it as a good lesson to our negligence and want of purpose. But all that +has passed away. One good whipping has awakened us to an understanding +of the work we have in hand. Henceforth we will apply ourselves to the +task in earnest." + +"You think, then, that your government will prosecute the war more +vigorously than before?" + +"Undoubtedly. You have heard but the prelude of a gale that shall sweep +every vestige of treason from the land." + +"Let it blow on," said the Southron, proudly. "There will be +counter-blasts to meet it. You cannot raise a tempest that will make us +bow our heads." + +"Do you not think," interrupted Oriana, "that a large proportion of your +Northern population are ready at least to listen to terms of +separation?" + +"No," replied Harold, firmly. "Or if there be any who entertain such +thoughts, we will make them outcasts among us, and the finger of scorn +will be pointed at them as recreant to their holiest duty." + +"That is hardly fair," said Oriana. "Why should you scorn or maltreat +those who honestly believe that the doctrine in support of which so many +are ready to stake their lives and their fortunes, may be worthy of +consideration? Do you believe us all mad and wicked people in the +South--people without hearts, and without brains, incapable of forming +an opinion that is worth an argument? If there are some among you who +think we are acting for the best, and Heaven knows we are acting with +sincerity, you should give them at least a hearing, for the sake of +liberty of conscience. Remember, there are millions of us united in +sentiment in the South, and millions, perhaps, abroad who think with us. +How can you decide by your mere impulses where the right lies?" + +"We decide by the promptings of our loyal hearts, and by our reason, +which tells us that secession is treason, and that treason must be +crushed." + +"Heart and brain have been mistaken ere now," returned Oriana. "But if +you are a type of your countrymen, I see that hard blows alone will +teach you that God has given us the right to think for ourselves." + +"Do you believe, then," asked Haralson, "that there can be no peace +between us until one side or the other shall be exhausted and subdued?" + +"Not so," replied Harold. "I think that when we have retrieved the +disgrace of Bull Run and given you in addition, some wholesome +chastisement, your better judgment will return to you, and you will +accept forgiveness at our hands and return to your allegiance." + +"You are mistaken," said the Southron. "Even were we ready to accept +your terms, you would not be ready to grant them. Should the North +succeed in striking some heavy blow at the South, I will tell you what +will happen; your abolitionists will seize the occasion of the peoples' +exultation to push their doctrine to a consummation. Whenever you shall +hear the tocsin of victory sounding in the North, then listen for the +echoing cry of emancipation--for you will hear it. You will see it in +every column of your daily prints; you will hear your statesmen urging +it in your legislative halls, and your cabinet ministers making it their +theme. And, most dangerous of all, you will hear your generals and +colonels, demagogues, at heart, and soldiers only of occasion, preaching +it to their battalions, and making converts of their subordinates by the +mere influences of their rank and calling. And when your military +chieftains harangue their soldiers upon political themes, think not of +our treason as you call it, but look well to the political freedom that +is still your own. With five hundred thousand armed puppets, moving at +the will of a clique of ambitious epauletted politicians and +experimentalists, you may live to witness, whether we be subdued or not, +a _coup d'etat_ for which there is a precedent not far back in the +annals of republics." + +"Have you already learned to contemplate the danger that you are +incurring? Do you at last fear the monster that you have nursed and +strengthened in your midst? Well, if your slaves should rise against +you, surely you cannot blame us for the evil of your own creation." + +"It is the hope of your abolitionists, not our fear, that I am +rehearsing. Should your armies obtain a foothold on our soil, we know +that you will put knives and guns into the hands of our slaves, and +incite them to emulate the deeds of their race in San Domingo. You will +parcel out our lands and wealth to your victorious soldiery, not so much +as a reward for their past services, but to seal the bond between them +and the government that will seek to rule by their bayonets. You see, we +know the peril and are prepared to meet it. Should you conquer us, at +the same time you would conquer the liberties of the Northern citizen. +You will be at the mercy of the successful general whose triumph may +make him the idol of the armed millions that alone can accomplish our +subjugation. In the South, butchery and rapine by hordes of desperate +negroes--in the North anarchy and political intrigue, to be merged into +dictatorship and the absolutism of military power. Such would be the +results of your triumph and our defeat." + +"Those are the visions of a heated brain," said Harold. "I must confess +that your fighting is better than your logic. There is no danger to our +country that the loyalty of its people cannot overcome--as it will your +rebellion." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +They had now approached the edge of the plain which Oriana had pointed +out on the preceding day. The sun, which had been tinging the western +sky with gorgeous hues, was peering from among masses of purple and +golden clouds, within an hour's space of the horizon. Captain Haralson, +interested and excited by his disputation, had been riding leisurely +along by the side of his prisoner, taking but little note of the route +or of the lapse of time. + +"Cease your unprofitable argument," cried Oriana, "and let us have a +race over this beautiful plain. Look! 'tis as smooth as a race-course, +and I will lay you a wager, Captain Haralson, that my Nelly will lead +you to yonder clump, by a neck." + +She touched her horse lightly with the whip, and turned from the road +into the meadows. + +"It is late, Miss Weems," said the Southron, "and I must report at +headquarters before sundown. Besides, I am badly mounted, and it would +be but a sorry victory to distance me. I pray you, let us return." + +"Nonsense! Nelly is not breathed. I must have one fair run over this +field; and, gentlemen, I challenge you both to outstrip Nelly if you +can." + +With a merry shout, she struck the fleet mare smartly on the flank, and +the spirited animal, more at the sound of her voice than aroused by the +whip-lash, stretched forward her neck and sprang over the tufted level. +Harold waved his hand, as if in invitation, to his companion, and was +soon urging his powerful horse in the same direction. Haralson shouted +to them to stop, but they only turned their heads and beckoned to him +gaily, and plunging the spurs into the strong but heavy-hoofed charger +that he rode, he followed them as best he could. He kept close in their +rear very well at first, but he soon observed that he was losing +distance, and that the two swift steeds in front, that had been held in +check a little at the start, were now skimming the smooth meadow at a +tremendous pace. + +"Halt!" he cried, at the top of his lungs; but either they heard it not +or heeded it not, for they still swept on, bending low forward in the +saddle, almost side by side. + +A vague suspicion crossed his mind. + +"Halt, there!" + +Oriana glanced over her shoulder, and could see a sunray gleaming from +something that he held in his right hand. He had drawn a pistol from his +holster. She slackened her pace a little, and allowing Harold to take +the lead, rode on in the line between him and the pursuer. Harold turned +in his saddle. She could hear the tones of his voice rushing past her on +the wind. + +"Come no further with me, lest suspicion attach to yourself. The good +horse will bear me beyond pursuit. Remember, it is for Arthur's sake I +have consented you should make this sacrifice. God bless you! and +farewell!" + +A pistol-shot resounded in the air. Oriana knew it was fired but to +intimidate--the distance was too great to give the leaden messenger a +deadlier errand. Yet she drew rein, and waited, breathless with +excitement and swift motion, till Haralson came up. He turned one +reproachful glance upon her as he passed, and spurred on in pursuit. +Harold turned once again, to assure himself that she was unhurt, then +waved his hand, and urging his swift steed to the utmost, sped on toward +the forest which was now close at hand. The two troopers soon came +galloping up to where Oriana still sat motionless upon her saddle, +watching the race with strained eyes and heaving bosom. + +"Your prisoner has escaped," she said; "spur on in pursuit." + +She knew that it was of no avail, for Harold had already disappeared +among the mazes of the wood, and the sun was just dipping below the +horizon. Darkness would soon shroud the fugitive in its friendly mantle. +She turned Nelly's head homeward, and cantered silently away in the +gathering twilight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + +When Captain Haralson and the two troopers reached the verge of the +forest, they could trace for a short distance the hoof-prints of +Harold's horse, and followed them eagerly among the labyrinthine paths +which the fugitive had made through the tangled shrubbery and among the +briery thickets. But soon the gloom of night closed in upon them in the +depth of the silent wood, and they were left without a sign by which to +direct the pursuit. It was near midnight when they reached the further +edge of the forest, and there, throwing fantastic gleams of red light +among the shadows of the tall trees, they caught sight of what seemed to +be the glimmer of a watchfire. Soon after, the growl of a hound was +heard, followed by a deep-mouthed bay, and approaching cautiously, they +were hailed by the watchful sentinel. It was a Confederate picket, +posted on the outskirt of the forest, and Haralson, making himself +known, rode up to where the party, awakened by their approach, had +roused themselves from their blankets, and were standing with ready +rifles beside the blazing fagots. + +Haralson made known his errand to the officer in command, and the +sentries were questioned, but all declared that nothing had disturbed +their watch; if the fugitive had passed their line, he had succeeded in +eluding their vigilance. + +"I must send one of my men back to camp to report the escape," said +Haralson, "and will ask you to spare me a couple of your fellows to help +me hunt the Yankee down. Confound him, I deserve to lose my epaulettes +for my folly, but I'll follow him to the Potomac, rather than return to +headquarters without him." + +"Who was it?" asked the officer; "was he of rank?" + +"A captain, Captain Hare, well named for his fleetness; but he was +mounted superbly, and I suspect the whole thing was cut and dried." + +"Hare?" cried a hoarse voice; and the speaker, a tall, lank man, who had +been stretched by the fire, with the head of a large, gaunt bloodhound +in his lap, rose suddenly and stepped forward. + +"Harold Hare, by G--d!" he exclaimed; "I know the fellow. Captain, I'm +with you on this hunt, and Bully there, too, who is worth the pair of +us. Hey, Bully?" + +The dog stretched himself lazily, and lifted his heavy lip with a grin +above the formidable fangs that glistened in the gleam of the watchfire. + +"You may go," said his officer, "but I can't spare another. You three, +with the dog, will be enough. Rawbon's as good a man as you can get, +captain. Set a thief to catch a thief, and a Yankee to outwit a Yankee. +You'd better start at once, unless you need rest or refreshment." + +"Nothing," replied Haralson. "Let your man put something into his +haversack. Good night, lieutenant. Come along, boys, and keep your eyes +peeled, for these Yankees are slippery eels, you know." + +Seth Rawbon had already bridled his horse that was grazing hard by, and +the party, with the hound close at his master's side, rode forth upon +their search. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +Harold had perceived the watchfire an hour earlier than his pursuers, +having obtained thus much the advantage of them by the fleetness of his +steed. He moved well off to the right, riding slowly and cautiously, +until another faint glimmer in that direction gave him to understand +that he was about equi-distant between two pickets of the enemy. He +dismounted at the edge of the forest, and securing his steed to the +branch of a tree, crept forward a few paces beyond the shelter of the +wood, and looked about earnestly in the darkness. Nothing could be seen +but the long, straggling line of the forest losing itself in the gloom, +and the black outlines, of the hills before him; but his quick ear +detected the sound of coming hoof and the ringing of steel scabbards. A +patrol was approaching, and fearful that his horse, conscious of the +neighborhood of his kind, might betray his presence with a sign of +recognition, he hurried back, and standing beside the animal, caressed +his glossy neck and won his attention with the low murmurs of his voice. +The good steed remained silent, only pricking up his ears and peering +through the branches as the patrol went clattering by. Harold waited +till the trampling of hoofs died away in the distance, and judging, from +their riding on without a challenge or a pause, that there was no sentry +within hail, he mounted and rode boldly out into the open country. The +stars were mostly obscured by heavy clouds, but here and there was a +patch of clear blue sky, and his eye, practised with many a surveying +night-tramp, discovered at last a twinkling guide by which to shape his +path in a northerly direction. It was a wild, rough country over which +he passed. With slow and careful steps, his sagacious steed moved on, +obedient to the rein, at one time topping the crest of a rugged hill, +and then winding at a snail's pace down the steep declivity, or +following the tortuous course of the streamlet through deep ravines, +whose jagged and bush-clad sides frowned down upon them on either side, +deepening the gloom of night. + +So all through the long hours of darkness, Harold toiled on his lonely +way, startled at times by the shriek of the night bird, and listening +intently to catch the sign of danger. At last the dawn, welcome although +it enhanced the chances of detection, blushed faintly through the +clouded eastern sky, and Harold, through the mists of morning, could see +a fair and rolling landscape stretched before him. The sky was overcast, +and presently the heavy drops began to fall. Consulting the little +friendly compass which Oriana had given him, he pushed on briskly, +turning always to the right or left, as the smoke, circling from some +early housewife's kitchen, betrayed the dangerous neighborhood of a +human habitation. + +Crossing a rivulet, he dismounted, and filled a small leathern bottle +that he carried with him, his good steed and himself meanwhile +satisfying their thirst from the cool wave. His appetite, freshened by +exercise, caused him to remember a package which Oriana's forethought +had provided for him on the preceding afternoon. He drew it from, his +pocket, and while his steed clipped the tender herbage from the +streamlet's bank, he made an excellent breakfast of the corn bread and +bacon, and other substantial edibles, which his kind friend had +bountifully supplied. Man and horse thus refreshed, he remounted, and +rode forward at a gallant pace, the strong animal he bestrode seeming as +yet to show no signs of fatigue. + +The rain was now falling in torrents, a propitious circumstance, since +it lessened the probabilities of his encountering the neighboring +inhabitants, most of whom must have sought shelter from the pelting +storm. He occasionally came up with a trudging negro, sometimes a group +of three or four, who answered timidly whenever he accosted them, and +glanced at him askance, but yet gave the information he requested. Once, +indeed, he could discern a troop of cavalry plashing along at same +distance through the muddy road, but he screened himself in a cornfield, +and was unobserved. His watch had been injured in the battle, and he had +no means, except conjecture, of judging of the hour; but by the flagging +pace of his horse, and his own fatigue, he knew that he must have been +many hours in the saddle. Surely the Potomac must be at hand! Yet there +was no sign of it, and over interminable hill and dale, through +corn-fields, and over patches of woodland and meadow, the weary steed +was urged on, slipping and sliding in the saturated soil. What was that +sound which caused his horse to prick up his ears and quicken his pace +with the instinct of danger? He heard it himself distinctly. It was the +baying of a bloodhound. + +"They are on my track!" muttered Harold; "and unless the river is at +hand, I am lost. Forward, sir! forward, good fellow!" he shouted +cheerily to his horse, and the noble animal, snorting and tossing his +silken mane, answered with an effort, and broke into a gallop. + +Down one hill into a little valley they pushed on, and up the ascent of +another. They reached the crest, and then, thank Heaven! there was the +broad river, winding through the valley. Dull and leaden hued as it +looked, reflecting the clouded sky, he had never hailed it so joyfully +when sparkling with sunbeams as he did at the close of that weary day. +Yet the danger was not past; up and down the stream he gazed, and far to +the right he could distinguish a group of tents peering from among the +foliage of a grove, and marking the site of a Confederate battery. But +just in front of him was a cheering sight; an armed schooner swung +lazily at anchor in the channel, and the wet bunting that drooped +listlessly over her stern, revealed the stars and stripes. + +The full tones of the bloodhound's voice aroused him to the necessity of +action; he turned in the saddle and glanced over the route he had come. +On the crest of the hill beyond that on which he stood, the forms of +three horsemen were outlined against the greyish sky. They distinguished +him at the same moment, for he could hear their shouts of exultation, +borne to him on the humid air. + +It was yet a full mile to the river bank, and his horse was almost +broken down with fatigue. Dashing his armed heels against the throbbing +flanks of the jaded animal, he rushed down the hill in a straight line +for the water. The sun was already below the horizon, and darkness was +coming on apace. As he pushed on, the shouts of his pursuers rang louder +upon his ear at every rod; it was evident that they were fresh mounted, +while his own steed was laboring, with a last effort, over the rugged +ground, stumbling among stones, and groaning at intervals with the +severity of exertion. He could hear the trampling behind him, he could +catch the words of triumph that seemed to be shouted almost in his very +ear. A bullet whizzed by him, and then another, and with each report +there came a derisive cheer. But it was now quite dark, and that, with +the rapid motion, rendered him comparatively fearless of being struck. +He spurred on, straining his eyes to see what was before him, for it +seemed that the ground in front became suddenly and curiously lost in +the mist and gloom. Just then, simultaneously with the report of a +pistol, he felt his good steed quiver beneath him; a bullet had reached +his flank, and the poor animal fell upon his knees and rolled over in +the agony of death. + +It was well that he had fallen; Harold, thrown forward a few feet, +touched the earth upon the edge of the rocky bank that descended +precipitously a hundred feet or more to the river--a few steps further, +and horse and rider would have plunged over the verge of the bluff. + +Harold, though bruised by his fall, was not considerably hurt; without +hesitation, he commenced the hazardous descent, difficult by day, but +perilous and uncertain in the darkness. Clinging to each projecting rock +and feeling cautiously for a foothold among the slippery ledges, he had +accomplished half the distance and could already hear the light plashing +of the wave upon the boulders below. He heard a voice above, shouting: +"Look out for the bluff there, we must be near it!" + +The warning came too late. There was a cry of terror--the blended voice +of man and horse, startling the night and causing Harold to crouch with +instinctive horror close to the dripping rock. There was a rush of wind +and the bounding by of a dark whirling body, which rolled over and over, +tearing over the sharp angles of the cliff, and scattering the loose +fragments of stone over him as he clung motionless to his support. Then +there was a dull thump below, and a little afterward a terrible moan, +and then all was still. + +Harold continued his descent and reached the base of the bluff in +safety. Through the darkness he could see a dark mass lying like a +shadow among the pointed stones, with the waves of the river rippling +about it. He approached it. There lay the steed gasping in the last +agony, and the rider beneath him, crushed, mangled and dead. He stooped +down by the side of the corpse; it was bent double beneath the quivering +body of the dying horse, in such a manner as must have snapped the spine +in twain. Harold lifted the head, but let it fall again with a shudder, +for his fingers had slipped into the crevice of the cleft skull and were +all smeared with the oozing brain. Yet, despite the obscurity and the +disfigurement, despite the bursting eyeballs and the clenched jaws +through which the blood was trickling, he recognized the features of +Seth Rawbon. + +No time for contemplation or for revery. There was a scrambling +overhead, with now and then a snarl and an angry growl. And further up, +he heard the sound of voices, labored and suppressed, as of men who were +speaking while toiling at some unwonted exercise. Harold threw off his +coat and boots, and waded out into the river. The dark hull of the +schooner could be seen looming above the gloomy surface of the water, +and he dashed toward it through the deepening wave. There was a splash +behind him and soon he could hear the puffing and short breathing of a +swimming dog. He was then up to his arm-pits in the water, and a few +yards further would bring him off his footing. He determined to wait the +onset there, while he could yet stand firm upon the shelving bottom. He +had not long to wait. The bloodhound made directly for him; he could see +his eyes snapping and glaring like red coals above the black water. +Harold braced himself as well as he could upon the yielding sand, and +held his poignard, Oriana's welcome gift, with a steady grasp. The dog +came so close that his fetid breath played upon Harold's cheek; then he +aimed a swift blow at his neck, but the brute dodged it like a fish. +Harold lost his balance and fell forward into the water, but in falling, +he launched out his left hand and caught the tough loose skin above the +animal's shoulder. He held it with the grasp of a drowning man, and over +and over they rolled in the water, like two sea monsters at their sport. +With all his strength, Harold drew the fierce brute toward him, +circling his neck tightly with his left arm, and pressed the sharp blade +against his throat. The hot blood gushed out over his hand, but he drove +the weapon deeper, slitting the sinewy flesh to the right and left, till +the dog ceased to struggle. Then Harold flung the huge carcass from him, +and struck out, breathless as he was, for the schooner. It was time, for +already his pursuers were upon the bank, aiming their pistol shots at +the black spot which they could just distinguish cleaving through the +water. But a few vigorous strokes carried him beyond their vision and +they ceased firing. Soon he heard the sound of muffled oars and a dark +shape seemed to rise from the water in front of him. The watch on board +the schooner, alarmed by the firing, had sent a boat's crew to +reconnoitre. Harold divined that it was so, and hailing the approaching +boat, was taken in, and ten minutes afterward, stood, exhausted but +safe, upon the schooner's deck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +With the earliest opportunity, Harold proceeded to Washington, and +sought an interview with the President, in relation to Arthur's case. +Mr. Lincoln received him kindly, but could give no information +respecting the arrest or alleged criminality of his friend. "There were +so many and pressing affairs of state that he could find no room for +individual cases in his memory." However, he referred him to the +Secretary of War, with a request that the latter would look into the +matter. By dint of persistent inquiries at various sources, Harold +finally ascertained that the prisoner had a few days previously been +released, upon the assurance of the surgeon at the fort, that his +failing health required his immediate removal. Inquiry had been made +into the circumstances leading to his arrest; made too late, however, to +benefit the victim of a State mistake, whose delicate health had already +been too severely tried by the discomforts attendant upon his +situation. However, enough had been ascertained to leave but little +doubt as to his innocence; and Arthur, with the ghastly signs of a rapid +consumption upon his wan cheek, was dismissed from the portals of a +prison, which had already prepared him for the tomb. + +Harold hastened to Vermont, whither he knew the invalid had been +conveyed. It was toward the close of the first autumn day that he +entered the little village, upon whose outskirts was situated the farm +of his dying friend. The air was mild and balmy, but the voices of +nature seemed to him more hushed than usual, as if in mournful unison +with his own sad reveries. He had passed on foot from the village to the +farm-house, and when he opened the little white wicket, and walked along +the gravelled avenue that led to the flower-clad porch, the willows on +either side seemed to droop lower than willows are used to droop, and +the soft September air sighed through the swinging boughs, like the +prelude of a dirge. + +Arthur was reclining upon an easy-chair upon the little porch, and +beside him sat a venerable lady, reading from the worn silver-clasped +Bible, which rested on her lap. The lady rose when he approached; and +Arthur, whose gaze had been wandering among the autumn clouds, that +wreathed the points of the far-off mountains, turned his head languidly, +when the footsteps broke his dream. + +He did not rise. Alas! he was too weak to do so without the support of +his aged mother's arm, which had so often cradled him in infancy and had +now become the staff of his broken manhood. But a beautiful and happy +smile illumined his pale lips, and spread all over the thin and wasted +features, like sunlight gleaming on the grey surface of a church-yard +stone. He lifted his attenuated hand, and when Harold clasped it, the +fingers were so cold and deathlike that their pressure seemed to close +about his heart, compressing it, and chilling the life current in his +veins. + +"I knew that you would come, Harold. Although I read that you were +missing at the close of that dreadful battle, something told me that we +should meet again. Whether it was a sick man's fancy, or the foresight +of a parting soul, it is realized, for you are here. And you come not +too soon, Harold," he added, with a pressure of the feeble hand, "for I +am going fast--fast from the discords of earth--fast to the calm and +harmony beyond." + +"Oh, Arthur, how changed you are!" said Harold, who could not keep from +fastening his gaze on the white, sunken cheek and hollow eyes of his +dying comrade. "But you will get better now, will you not--now that you +are home again, and we can nurse you?" + +Arthur shook his head with a mournful smile, and the fit of painful +coughing which overtook him answered his friend's vain hope. + +"No, Harold, no. All of earth is past to me, even hope. And I am ready, +cheerful even, to go, except for the sake of some loved ones that will +sorrow for me." + +He took his mother's hand as he spoke, and looked at her with touching +tenderness, while the poor dame brushed away her tears. + +"I have but a brief while to stay behind," she said, "and my sorrow will +be less, to know that you have ever been a good son to me. Oh, Mr. Hare, +he might have lived to comfort me, and close my old eyes in death, if +they had not been so cruel with him, and locked him within prison +walls. He, who never dreamed of wrong, and never injured willingly a +worm in his path." + +"Nay, mother, they were not unkind to me in the fort, and did what they +could to make me comfortable. But, Harold, it is wrong. I have thought +of it in the long, weary nights in prison, and I have thought of it when +I knew that death was beckoning me to come and rest from the thoughts of +earth. It is wrong to tamper with the sacred law that shields the +citizen. I believe that many a man within those fortress walls is as +innocent in the eyes of God as those who sent him there. Yet I accuse +none of willful wrong, but only of unconscious error. If the sacrifice +of my poor life could shed one ray upon the darkness, I would rejoice to +be the victim that I am, of a violated right. But all, statesmen, and +chieftains, and humble citizens, are being swept along upon the +whirlwinds of passion; all hearts are ablaze with the fiery magnificence +of war, and none will take warning till the land shall be desolate, and +thousands, stricken in their prime, shall be sleeping--where I shall +soon be--beneath the cold sod. I am weary, mother, and chill. Let us go +in." + +They bore him in and helped him to his bed, where he lay pale and +silent, seeming much worse from the fatigue of conversation and the +excitement of his meeting with his old college friend. Mrs. Wayne left +him in charge of Harold, while she went below to prepare what little +nourishment he could take, and to provide refreshment for her guest. + +Arthur lay, for a space, with his eyes closed, and apparently in sleep. +But he looked up, at last, and stretched out his hand to Harold, who +pressed the thin fingers, whiter than the coverlet on which they rested. + +"Is mother there?" + +"No, Arthur," replied Harold. "Shall I call her?" + +"No. I thought to have spoken to you, to-morrow, of something that has +been often my theme of thought; but I know not what strange feeling has +crept upon me; and perhaps, Harold--for we know not what the morrow may +bring--perhaps I had better speak now." + +"It hurts you, Arthur; you are too weak. Indeed, you must sleep now, and +to-morrow we shall talk." + +"No; now, Harold. It will not hurt me, or if it does, it matters little +now. Harold, I would fain that no shadow of unkindness should linger +between us twain when I am gone." + +"Why should there, Arthur? You have been my true friend always, and as +such shall I remember you." + +"Yet have I wronged you; yet have I caused you much grief and +bitterness, and only your own generous nature preserved us from +estrangement. Harold, have you heard from _her_?" + +"I have seen her, Arthur. During my captivity, she was my jailer; in my +sickness, for I was slightly wounded, she was my nurse. I will tell you +all about it to-morrow." + +"Yes, to-morrow," replied Arthur, breathing heavily. "To-morrow! the +word sounds meaningless to me, like something whose significance has +left me. Is she well, Harold?" + +"Yes." + +"And happy?" + +"I think so, Arthur. As happy as any of us can be, amid severed ties and +dread uncertainties." + +"I am glad that she is well. Harold, you will tell her, for I am sure +you will meet again, you will tell her it was my dying wish that you two +should be united. Will you promise, Harold?" + +"I will tell her all that you wish, Arthur." + +"I seem to feel that I shall be happy in my grave, to know that, she +will be your wife; to know that my guilty love--for I loved her, Harold, +and it _was_ guilt to love--to know that it left no poison behind, that +its shadow has passed away from the path that you must tread." + +"Speak not of guilt, my friend. There could live no crime between two +such noble hearts. And had I thought you would have accepted the +sacrifice, I could almost have been happy to have given her to you, so +much was her happiness the aim of my own love." + +"Yes, for you have a glorious heart, Harold; and I thank Heaven that she +cannot fail to love you. And you do not think, do you, Harold, that it +would be wrong for you two to speak of me when I am gone? I cannot bear +to think that you should deem it necessary to drive me from your +memories, as one who had stepped in between your hearts. I am sure she +will love you none the less for her remembrance of me, and therefore +sometimes you will talk together of me, will you not?" + +"Yes, we will often talk of you, for what dearer theme to both could we +choose; what purer recollections could our memories cherish than of the +friend we both loved so much, and who so well deserved our love?" + +"And I am forgiven, Harold?" + +"Were there aught to be forgiven, I would forgive; but I have never +harbored in my most secret heart one trace of anger or resentment toward +you. Do not talk more, dear Arthur. To-morrow, perhaps, you will be +stronger, and then we will speak again. Here comes your mother, and she +will scold me for letting you fatigue yourself so much." + +"Raise me a little on the pillow, please. I seem to breathe more heavily +to-night. Thank you, I will sleep now. Good night, mother; I will eat +the gruel when I wake. I had rather sleep now. Good night, Harold!" + +He fell into a slumber almost immediately, and they would not disturb +him, although his mother had prepared the food he had been used to +take. + +"I think he is better to-night. He seems to sleep more tranquilly," said +Mrs. Wayne. "If you will step below, I have got a dish of tea for you, +and some little supper." + +Harold went down and refreshed himself at the widow's neat and +hospitable board, and then walked out into the evening, to dissipate, if +possible, the cloud that was lowering about his heart. He paced up and +down the avenue of willows, and though the fresh night air soothed the +fever of his brain, he could not chase away the gloom that weighed upon +his spirit. His mind wandered among mournful memories--the field of +battle, strewn with the dying and the dead; the hospital where brave +suffering men were groaning under the surgeon's knife; the sick chamber, +where his friend was dying. + +"And I, too," he thought, "have become the craftsman of Death, training +my arm and intellect to be cunning in the butchery of my fellows! +Wearing the instrument of torture at my side, and using the faculties +God gave me to mutilate His image. Yet, from the pulpit and the +statesman's chair, and far back through ages from the pages of history, +precept and example have sought to record its justification, under the +giant plea of necessity. But is it justified? Has man, in his +enlightenment, sufficiently studied to throw aside the hereditary errors +that come from the past, clothed in barbarous splendors to mislead +thought and dazzle conscience? Oh, for one glimpse of the Eternal Truth! +to teach us how far is delegated to mortal man the right to take away +the life he cannot give. When shall the sword be held accursed? When +shall man cease to meddle with the most awful prerogative of his God? +When shall our right hands be cleansed forever from the stain of blood, +and homicide be no longer a purpose and a glory upon earth? I shudder +when I look up at the beautiful serenity of this autumn sky, and +remember that my deed has loosened an immortal soul from its clay, and +hurled it, unprepared, into its Maker's presence. My conscience would +rebuke my hand, should it willfully shatter the sculptor's marble +wrought into human shape, or deface the artist's ideal pictured upon +canvas, or destroy aught that is beautiful and costly of man's ingenuity +and labor. And yet these I might replace with emptying a purse into the +craftsman's hand. But will my gold recall the vital spark into those +cold forms that, stricken by my steel or bullet, are rotting in their +graves? The masterpiece of God I have destroyed. His image have I +defaced; the wonderful mechanism that He alone can mold, and molded for +His own holy purpose, have I shattered and dismembered; the soul, an +essence of His own eternity, have I chased from its alotted earthly +home, and I rely for my justification upon--what?--the fact that my +victim differed from me in political belief. Must the hand of man be +raised against the workmanship of God because an earthly bond has been +sundered? Our statesmen teach us so, the ministers of our faith +pronounce it just; but, oh God! should it be wrong! When the blood is +hot, when the heart throbs with exaltation, when martial music swells, +and the war-steed prances, and the bayonets gleam in the bright +sunlight--then I think not of the doubt, nor of the long train of +horrors, the tears, the bereavements, the agonies, of which this martial +magnificence is but the vanguard. But now, in the still calmness of the +night, when all around me and above me breathes of the loveliness and +holiness of peace, I fear. I question nature, hushed as she is and +smiling in repose, and her calm beauty tells me that Peace is sacred; +that her Master sanctions no discords among His children. I question my +own conscience, and it tells me that the sword wins not the everlasting +triumph--that the voice of war finds no echo within the gates of +heaven." + +Ill-comforted by his reflections, he returned to the quiet dwelling, and +entered the chamber of his friend. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + +The sufferer was still sleeping, and Mrs. Wayne was watching by the +bedside. Harold seated himself beside her, and gazed mournfully upon the +pale, still features that already, but for the expression of pain that +lingered there, seemed to have passed from the quiet of sleep to the +deeper calm of death. + +"Each moment that I look," said Mrs. Wayne, wiping her tears away, "I +seem to see the grey shadows of the grave stealing over his brow. The +doctor was here a few moments before you came. The minister, too, sat +with him all the morning. I know from their kind warning that I shall +soon be childless. He has but a few hours to be with me. Oh, my son! my +son!" + +She bent her head upon the pillow, and wept silently in the bitterness +of her heart. Harold forebore to check that holy grief; but when the +old lady, with Christian resignation, had recovered her composure, he +pressed her to seek that repose which her aged frame so much needed. + +"I will sit by Arthur while you rest awhile; you have already overtasked +your strength with vigil. I will awake you should there be a change." + +She consented to lie upon the sofa, and soon wept herself to sleep, for +she was really quite broken down with watching. Everything was hushed +around, save the monotones of the insects in the fields, and the +breathing of those that slept. If there is an hour when the soul is +lifted above earth and communes with holy things, it is in the stillness +of the country night, when the solitary watcher sits beside the pillow +of a loved one, waiting the coming of the dark angel, whose footsteps +are at the threshold. Harold sat gazing silently at the face of the +invalid; sometimes a feeble smile would struggle with the lines of +suffering upon the pinched and haggard lineaments, and once from the +white lips came the murmur of a name, so low that only the solemn +stillness made the sound palpable--the name of Oriana. + +Toward midnight, Arthur's breathing became more difficult and painful, +and his features changed so rapidly that Harold became fearful that the +end was come. With a sigh, he stepped softly to the sofa, and wakened +Mrs. Wayne, taking her gently by the hand which trembled in his grasp. +She knew that she was awakened to a terrible sorrow--that she was about +to bid farewell to the joy of her old age. Arthur opened his eyes, but +the weeping mother turned from them; she could not bear to meet them, +for already the glassy film was veiling the azure depths whose light had +been so often turned to her in tenderness. + +"Give me some air, mother. It is so close--I cannot breathe." + +They raised him upon the pillow, and his mother supported the languid +head upon her bosom. + +"Arthur, my son! are you suffering, my poor boy?" + +"Yes. It will pass away. Do not grieve. Kiss me, dear mother." + +He was gasping for breath, and his hand was tightly clasped about his +mother's withered palm. She wiped the dampness from his brow, mingling +her tears with the cold dews of death. + +"Is Harold there?" + +"Yes, Arthur." + +"You will not forget? And you will love and guard her well?" + +"Yes, Arthur." + +"Put away the sword, Harold; it is accursed of God. Is not that the +moonlight that streams upon the bed?" + +"Yes. Does it disturb you, Arthur?" + +"No. Let it come in. Let it all come in; it seems a flood of glory." + +His voice grew faint, till they could scarce hear its murmur. His +breathing was less painful, and the old smile began to wreathe about his +lips, smoothing the lines of pain. + +"Kiss me, dear mother! You need not hold me. I am well enough--I am +happy, mother. I can sleep now." + +He slept no earthly slumber. As the summer air that wafts a rose-leaf +from its stem, gently his last sigh stole upon the stillness of the +night. Harold lifted the lifeless form from the mother's arms, and when +it drooped upon the pillow, he turned away, that the parent might close +the lids of the dead son. + + +THE END. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession +by Benjamin Wood + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORT LAFAYETTE *** + +***** This file should be named 12452-8.txt or 12452-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/4/5/12452/ + +Produced by Curtis Weyant, Stephen Hope and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/12452-8.zip b/old/12452-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..40c2ead --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12452-8.zip diff --git a/old/12452-h.zip b/old/12452-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a61435 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12452-h.zip diff --git a/old/12452-h/12452-h.htm b/old/12452-h/12452-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..479c880 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12452-h/12452-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6527 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fort Lafayette, by Benjamin Wood. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession, by Benjamin Wood + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession + +Author: Benjamin Wood + +Release Date: May 27, 2004 [EBook #12452] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORT LAFAYETTE *** + + + + +Produced by Curtis Weyant, Stephen Hope and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>FORT LAFAYETTE</h1> + +<h1>OR</h1> + +<h1>LOVE AND SECESSION</h1> +<br /> + +<h2>A Novel</h2> + +<h2>BY BENJAMIN WOOD</h2> +<br /> + +<h2>MDCCCLXII</h2> + +<h2>1862</h2> + + +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>——"Whom they please they lay in basest bonds."<br /></span> +<span><i>Venice Preserved.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"O, beauteous Peace!<br /></span> +<span>Sweet union of a state! what else but thou<br /></span> +<span>Gives safety, strength, and glory to a people?"<br /></span> +<span><i>Thomson.</i><br /></span> +</div></div><br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Oh, Peace! thou source and soul of social life;<br /></span> +<span>Beneath whose calm inspiring influence,<br /></span> +<span>Science his views enlarges, art refines,<br /></span> +<span>And swelling commerce opens all her ports;<br /></span> +<span>Blest be the man divine, who gives us thee!"<br /></span> +<span><i>Thomson.</i><br /></span> +</div></div><br /> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"A peace is of the nature of a conquest;<br /></span> +<span>For then both parties nobly are subdued,<br /></span> +<span>And neither party loser."<br /></span> +<span><i>Shakspeare.</i><br /></span> +</div></div><br /> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<br /> + + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><b>CHAPTER XXV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><b>CHAPTER XXVI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXVII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXVIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXIX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXX"><b>CHAPTER XXX</b></a><br /> + +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_I"></a><h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>There is a pleasant villa on the southern bank of the James River, a few +miles below the city of Richmond. The family mansion, an old fashioned +building of white stone, surrounded by a spacious veranda, and embowered +among stately elms and grave old oaks, is sure to attract the attention +of the traveller by its picturesque appearance, and the dreamy elegance +and air of comfort that pervade the spot. The volumes of smoke that roll +from the tall chimneys, the wide portals of the hall, flung open as if +for a sign of welcome, the merry chat and cheerful faces of the sable +household, lazily alternating their domestic labors with a sly romp or a +lounge in some quiet nook, these and other traits of the old Virginia +home, complete the picture of hospitable affluence which the stranger +instinctively draws as his gaze lingers on the grateful scene. The house +stands on a wooded knoll, within a bowshot of the river bank, and from +the steps of the back veranda, where creeping flowers form a perfumed +network of a thousand hues, the velvety lawn shelves gracefully down to +the water's edge.</p> + +<p>Toward sunset of one of the early days of April, 1861, a young girl +stood leaning upon the wicket of a fence which separated the garden from +the highway. She stood there dreamily gazing along the road, as if +awaiting the approach of some one who would be welcome when he came. The +slanting rays of the declining sun glanced through the honeysuckles and +tendrils that intertwined among the white palings, and threw a subdued +light upon her face. It was a face that was beautiful in repose, but +that promised to be more beautiful when awakened into animation. The +large, grey eyes were half veiled with their black lashes at that +moment, and their expression was thoughtful and subdued; but ever as the +lids were raised, when some distant sound arrested her attention, the +expression changed with a sudden flash, and a gleam like an electric +fire darted from the glowing orbs. Her features were small and +delicately cut, the nostrils thin and firm, and the lips most +exquisitely molded, but in the severe chiselling of their arched lines +betraying a somewhat passionate and haughty nature. But the rose tint +was so warm upon her cheek, the raven hair clustered with such luxuriant +grace about her brows, and the <i>petite</i> and lithe figure was so +symmetrical at every point, that the impression of haughtiness was lost +in the contemplation of so many charms.</p> + +<p>Oriana Weems, the subject of our sketch, was an orphan. Her father, a +wealthy Virginian, died while his daughter was yet an infant, and her +mother, who had been almost constantly an invalid, did not long survive. +Oriana and her brother, Beverly, her senior by two years, had thus been +left at an early age in the charge of their mother's sister, a maiden +lady of excellent heart and quiet disposition, who certainly had most +conscientiously fulfilled the sacred trust. Oriana had returned but a +twelvemonth before from a northern seminary, where she had gathered up +more accomplishments than she would ever be likely to make use of in the +old homestead; while Beverly, having graduated at Yale the preceding +month, had written to his sister that she might expect him that very +day, in company with his classmate and friend, Arthur Wayne.</p> + +<p>She stood, therefore, at the wicket, gazing down the road, in +expectation of catching the first glimpse of her brother and his friend, +for whom horses had been sent to Richmond, to await their arrival at the +depot. So much was she absorbed in revery, that she failed to observe a +solitary horseman who approached from the opposite direction. He plodded +leisurely along until within a few feet of the wicket, when he quietly +drew rein and gazed for a moment in silence upon the unconscious girl. +He was a tall, gaunt man, with stooping shoulders, angular features, +lank, black hair and a sinister expression, in which cunning and malice +combined. He finally urged his horse a step nearer, and as softly as +his rough voice would admit, he bade: "Good evening, Miss Oriana."</p> + +<p>She started, and turned with a suddenness that caused the animal he rode +to swerve. Recovering her composure as suddenly, she slightly inclined +her head and turning from him, proceeded toward the house.</p> + +<p>"Stay, Miss Oriana, if you please."</p> + +<p>She paused and glanced somewhat haughtily over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"May I speak a word with you?"</p> + +<p>"My aunt, sir, is within; if you have business, I will inform her of +your presence."</p> + +<p>"My business is with you, Miss Weems," and, dismounting, he passed +through the gate and stepped quickly to her side.</p> + +<p>"Why do you avoid me?"</p> + +<p>Her dark eye flashed in the twilight, and she drew her slight form up +till it seemed to gain a foot in height.</p> + +<p>"We do not seek to enlarge our social circle, Mr. Rawbon. You will +excuse me if I leave you abruptly, but the night dew begins to fall."</p> + +<p>She moved on, but he followed and placed his hand gently on her arm. +She shook it off with more of fierceness than dignity, and the man's +eyes fairly sought the ground beneath the glance she gave him.</p> + +<p>"You know that I love you," he said, in a hoarse murmur, "and that's the +reason you treat me like a dog."</p> + +<p>She turned her back upon him, and walked, as if she heard him not, along +the garden path. His brow darkened, and quickening his pace, he stepped +rudely before her and blocked the way.</p> + +<p>"Look you, Miss Weems, you have insulted me with your proud ways time +and time again, and I have borne it tamely, because I loved you, and +because I've sworn that I shall have you. It's that puppy, Harold Hare, +that has stepped in between you and me. Now mark you," and he raised his +finger threateningly, "I won't be so meek with him as I've been with +you."</p> + +<p>The girl shuddered slightly, but recovering, walked forward with a step +so stately and commanding, that Rawbon, bold and angry as he was, +involuntarily made way for her, and she sprang up the steps of the +veranda and passed into the hall. He stood gazing after her for a +moment, nervously switching the rosebush at his side with his heavy +horsewhip; then, with a muttered curse, he strode hastily away, and +leaping upon his horse, galloped furiously down the road.</p> + +<p>Seth Rawbon was a native of Massachusetts, but for some ten years +previously to the date at which our tale commences, he had been mostly a +resident of Richmond, where his acuteness and active business habits had +enabled him to accumulate an independent fortune. His wealth and +vigorous progressive spirit had given him a certain degree of influence +among the middle classes of the community, but his uncouth manner, and a +suspicion that he was not altogether free from the degradation of +slave-dealing, had, to his great mortification and in spite of his +persistent efforts, excluded him from social intercourse with the +aristocracy of the Old Dominion. He was not a man, however, to give way +to obstacles, and with characteristic vanity and self-reliance, he had, +shortly after her return from school, greatly astonished the proud +Oriana with a bold declaration of love and an offer of his hand and +fortune. Not intimidated by a sharp and decidedly ungracious refusal, he +had at every opportunity advocated his hopeless suit, and with so much +persistence and effrontery, that the object of his unwelcome passion had +been goaded from indifference to repugnance and absolute loathing. +Harold Hare, whose name he had mentioned with so much bitterness in the +course of the interview we have represented, was a young Rhode Islander, +who had, upon her brother's invitation, sojourned a few weeks at the +mansion some six months previously, while on his way to engage in a +surveying expedition in Western Virginia. He had promised to return in +good time, to join Beverly and his guest, Arthur Wayne, at the close of +their academic labors.</p> + +<p>A few moments after Rawbon's angry departure, the family carriage drove +rapidly up to the hall door, and the next instant Beverly was in his +sister's arms, and had been affectionately welcomed by his +old-fashioned, kindly looking aunt. As he turned to introduce his +friend, Arthur, the latter was gazing with an air of absent admiration +upon the kindled features of Oriana. The two young men were of the same +age, apparently about one-and-twenty; but in character and appearance +they were widely different. Beverly was, in countenance and manner, +curiously like his sister, except that the features were bolder and more +strongly marked. Arthur, on the contrary, was delicate in feature almost +to effeminacy. His brow was pale and lofty, and above the auburn locks +were massed like a golden coronet. His eyes were very large and blue, +with a peculiar softness and sadness that suited well the expression of +thoughtfulness and repose about his lips. He was taller than his friend, +and although well-formed and graceful, was slim and evidently not in +robust health. His voice, as he spoke in acknowledgment of the +introduction, was low and musical, but touched with a mournfulness that +was apparent even in the few words of conventional courtesy that he +pronounced.</p> + +<p>Having thus domiciliated them comfortably in the old hall, we will leave +them to recover from the fatigues of the journey, and to taste of the +plentiful hospitalities of Riverside manor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_II"></a><h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Early in the fresh April morning, the party at Riverside manor were +congregated in the hall, doing full justice to Aunt Nancy's substantial +breakfast.</p> + +<p>"Oriana," said Beverly, as he paused from demolishing a well-buttered +batter cake, and handed his cup for a second supply of the fragrant +Mocha, "I will leave it to your <i>savoir faire</i> to transform our friend +Arthur into a thorough southerner, before we yield him back to his Green +Mountains. He is already half a convert to our institutions, and will +give you not half so much trouble as that obstinate Harold Hare."</p> + +<p>She slightly colored at the name, but quietly remarked:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wayne must look about him and judge from his own observation, not +my arguments. I certainly do not intend to annoy him during his visit, +with political discussions."</p> + +<p>"And yet you drove Harold wild with your flaming harangues, and gave +him more logic in an afternoon ride than he had ever been bored with in +Cambridge in a month."</p> + +<p>"Only when he provoked and invited the assault," she replied, smiling. +"But I trust, Mr. Wayne, that the cloud which is gathering above our +country will not darken the sunshine of your visit at Riverside manor. +It is unfortunate that you should have come at an unpropitious moment, +when we cannot promise you that perhaps there will not be some cold +looks here and there among the townsfolk, to give you a false impression +of a Virginia welcome."</p> + +<p>"Not at all, Oriana; Arthur will have smiles and welcome enough here at +the manor house to make him proof against all the hard looks in +Richmond. I prevailed on him to come at all hazards, and we are bound to +have a good time and don't want you to discourage us; eh, Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"I am but little of a politician, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "although I +take our country's differences much at heart. I shall surely not provoke +discussion with you, like our friend Harold, upon an unpleasant +subject, while you give me <i>carte blanche</i> to enjoy your conversation +upon themes more congenial to my nature."</p> + +<p>She inclined her head with rather more of gravity than the nature of the +conversation warranted, and her lips were slightly compressed as she +observed that Arthur's blue eyes were fixed pensively, but intently, on +her face.</p> + +<p>The meal being over, Oriana and Wayne strolled on the lawn toward the +river bank, while the carriage was being prepared for a morning drive. +They stood on the soft grass at the water's edge, and as Arthur gazed +with a glow of pleasure at the beautiful prospect before him, his fair +companion pointed out with evident pride the many objects of beauty and +interest that were within view on the opposite bank.</p> + +<p>"Are you a sailor, Mr. Wayne? If so, we must have out the boat this +afternoon, and you will find some fairy nooks beyond the bend that will +repay you for exploring them, if you have a taste for a lovely +waterscape. I know you are proud of the grand old hills of your native +State, but we have something to boast of too in our Virginia scenery."</p> + +<p>"If you will be my helmswoman, I can imagine nothing more delightful +than the excursion you propose. But I am inland bred, and must place +myself at the mercy of your nautical experience."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am a skillful captain, Mr. Wayne, and will make a good sailor of +you before you leave us. Mr. Hare will tell you that I am to be trusted +with the helm, even when the wind blows right smartly, as it sometimes +does even on that now placid stream. But with his memories of the +magnificent Hudson, he was too prone to quiz me about what he called our +pretty rivulet. You know him, do you not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well. He was Beverly's college-mate and mine, though somewhat our +senior."</p> + +<p>"And your warm friend, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and well worthy our friendship. Somewhat high-tempered and +quick-spoken, but with a heart—like your brother's, Miss Weems, as +generous and frank as a summer day."</p> + +<p>"I do not think him high-tempered beyond the requisites of manhood," she +replied, with something like asperity in her tone. "I cannot endure +your meek, mild mannered men, who seem to forget their sex, and almost +make me long to change my own with them, that their sweet dispositions +may be better placed."</p> + +<p>He glanced at her with a somewhat surprised air, that brought a slight +blush to her cheek; but he seemed unconscious of it, and said, almost +mechanically:</p> + +<p>"And yet, that same high spirit, which you prize so dearly, had, in his +case, almost caused you a severe affliction."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Have you not heard how curiously Beverly's intimacy with Harold was +brought about? And yet it was not likely that he should have told you, +although I know no harm in letting you know."</p> + +<p>She turned toward him with an air of attention, as if in expectation.</p> + +<p>"It was simply this. Not being class-mates, they had been almost +strangers to each other at college, until, by a mere accident, an +argument respecting your Southern institutions led to an angry dispute, +and harsh words passed between them. Being both of the ardent +temperament you so much admire, a challenge ensued, and, in spite of my +entreaty and remonstrance, a duel. Your brother was seriously wounded, +and Harold, shocked beyond expression, knelt by his side as he lay +bleeding on the sward, and bitterly accusing himself, begged his +forgiveness, and, I need not add, received it frankly. Harold was +unremitting in his attentions to your brother during the period of his +illness, and from the day of that hostile meeting, the most devoted +friendship has existed between them. But it was an idle quarrel, Miss +Weems, and was near to have cost you an only brother."</p> + +<p>She remained silent for a few moments, and was evidently affected by the +recital. Then she spoke, softly as if communing with herself: "Harold is +a brave and noble fellow, and I thank God that he did not kill my +brother!" and a bright tear rolled upon her cheek. She dashed it away, +almost angrily, and glancing steadily at Arthur:</p> + +<p>"Do you condemn duelling?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly."</p> + +<p>"But what would you have men do in the face of insult? Would you not +have fought under the same provocation?"</p> + +<p>"No, nor under any provocation. I hold too sacred the life that God has +given. With God's help, I shall not shed human blood, except in the +strict line of necessity and duty."</p> + +<p>"It is evident, sir, that you hold your own life most sacred," she said, +with a curl of her proud lip that was unmistakable.</p> + +<p>She did not observe the pallor that overspread his features, nor the +expression, not of anger, but of anguish, that settled upon his face, +for she had turned half away from him, and was gazing vacantly across +the river. There was an unpleasant pause, which was broken by the noise +of voices in alarm near the house, the trampling of hoofs, and the +rattle of wheels.</p> + +<p>The carriage had been standing at the door, while Beverly was arranging +some casual business, which delayed him in his rooms. While the +attention of the groom in charge had been attracted by some freak of his +companions, a little black urchin, not over five years of age, had +clambered unnoticed into the vehicle, and seizing the long whip, began +to flourish it about with all his baby strength. The horses, which were +high bred and spirited, had become impatient, and feeling the lash, +started suddenly, jerking themselves free from the careless grasp of the +inattentive groom. The sudden shout of surprise and terror that arose +from the group of idle negroes, startled the animals into a gallop, and +they went coursing, not along the road, but upon the lawn, straight +toward the river bank, which, in the line of their course, was +precipitous and rocky. As Oriana and Arthur turned at the sound, they +beheld the frightened steeds plunging across the lawn, and upon the +carriage seat the little fellow who had caused the mischief was +crouching bewildered and helpless, and screaming with affright. Oriana +clasped her hands, and cried tearfully:</p> + +<p>"Oh! poor little Pomp will be killed!"</p> + +<p>In fact the danger was imminent, for the lawn at that spot merged into a +rocky space, forming a little bluff which overhung the stream some +fifteen, feet. Oriana's hand was laid instinctively upon Arthur's +shoulder, and with the other she pointed, with a gesture of bewildered +anxiety, at the approaching vehicle. Arthur paused only long enough to +understand the situation, and then stepping calmly a few paces to the +left, stood directly in the path of the rushing steeds.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wayne! no, no!" cried Oriana, in a tone half of fear and half +supplication; but he stood there unmoved, with the same quiet, mournful +expression that he habitually wore. The horses faltered somewhat when +they became conscious of this fixed, calm figure directly in their +course. They would have turned, but their impetus was too great, and +they swerved only enough to bring the head of the off horse in a line +with Arthur's body. As coolly as if he was taking up a favorite book, +but with a rapid movement, he grasped the rein below the bit with both +hands firmly, and swung upon it with his whole weight. The frightened +animal turned half round, stumbled, and rolled upon his side, his mate +falling upon his knees beside him; the carriage was overturned with a +crash, and little Pompey pitched out upon the greensward, unhurt.</p> + +<p>By this time, Beverly, followed by a crowd of excited negroes, had +reached the spot.</p> + +<p>"How is it, Arthur," said Beverly, placing his hand affectionately on +his friend's shoulder, "are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No," he replied, the melancholy look softening into a pleasant smile; +but as he rose and adjusted his disordered dress, he coughed +painfully—the same dry, hacking cough that had often made those who +loved him turn to him with an anxious look. It was evident that his +delicate frame was ill suited to such rough exercise.</p> + +<p>"We shall be cheated out of our ride this morning," said Beverly, "for +that axle has been less fortunate than you, Arthur; it is seriously +hurt."</p> + +<p>They moved slowly toward the house, Oriana looking silently at the grass +as she walked mechanically at her brother's side. When Arthur descended +into the drawing-room, after having changed his soiled apparel, he found +her seated there alone, by the casement, with her brow upon her hand. He +sat down at the table and glanced abstractedly over the leaves of a +scrap-book. Thus they sat silently for a quarter hour, when she arose, +and stood beside him.</p> + +<p>"Will you forgive me, Mr. Wayne?"</p> + +<p>He looked up and saw that she had been weeping. The haughty curl of the +lip and proud look from the eye were all gone, and her expression was of +humility and sorrow. She held out her hand to him with an air almost of +entreaty. He raised it respectfully to his lips, and with the low, +musical voice, sadder than ever before, he said:</p> + +<p>"I am sorry that you should grieve about anything. There is nothing to +forgive. Let us forget it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wayne, how unkind I have been, and how cruelly I have wronged +you!"</p> + +<p>She pressed his hand between both her palms for a moment, and looked +into his face, as if studying to read if some trace of resentment were +not visible. But the blue eyes looked down kindly and mournfully upon +her, and bursting into tears, she turned from him, and hurriedly left +the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_III"></a><h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The incident related in the preceding chapter seemed to have effected a +marked change in the demeanor of Oriana toward her brother's guest. She +realized with painful force the wrong that her thoughtlessness, more +than her malice, had inflicted on a noble character, and it required all +of Arthur's winning sweetness of disposition to remove from her mind the +impression that she stood, while in his presence, in the light of an +unforgiven culprit. They were necessarily much in each other's company, +in the course of the many rambles and excursions that were devised to +relieve the monotony of the old manor house, and Oriana was surprised to +feel herself insensibly attracted toward the shy and pensive man, whose +character, so far as it was betrayed by outward sign, was the very +reverse of her own impassioned temperament. She discovered that the +unruffled surface covered an under-current of pure thought and exquisite +feeling, and when, on the bosom of the river, or in the solitudes of +the forest, his spirit threw off its reserve under the spell of nature's +inspiration, she felt her own impetuous organization rebuked and held in +awe by the simple and quiet grandeur that his eloquence revealed.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, some two weeks after his arrival at the Riverside manor, +while returning from a canter in the neighborhood, they paused upon an +eminence that overlooked a portion of the city of Richmond. There, upon +an open space, could be seen a great number of the citizens assembled, +apparently listening to the harangue of an orator. The occasional cheer +that arose from the multitude faintly reached their ears, and that mass +of humanity, restless, turbulent and excited, seemed, even at that +distance, to be swayed by some mighty passion.</p> + +<p>"Look, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "at this magnificent circle of gorgeous +scenery, that you are so justly proud of, that lies around you in the +golden sunset like a dream of a fairy landscape. See how the slanting +rays just tip the crest of that distant ridge, making it glow like a +coronet of gold, and then, leaping into the river beneath; spangle its +bosom with dazzling sheen, save where a part rests in the purple shadow +of the mountain. Look to the right, and see how those crimson clouds +seem bending from heaven to kiss the yellow corn-fields that stretch +along the horizon. And at your feet, the city of Richmond extends along +the valley."</p> + +<p>"We admit the beauty of the scene and the accuracy of the description," +said Beverly, "but, for my part, I should prefer the less romantic view +of some of Aunt Nancy's batter-cakes, for this ride has famished me."</p> + +<p>"Now look below," continued Arthur, "at that swarm of human beings +clustering together like angry bees. As we stand here gazing at the +glorious pageant which nature spreads out before us, one might suppose +that only for some festival of rejoicing or thanksgiving would men +assemble at such an hour and in such a scene. But what are the beauties +of the landscape, bathed in the glories of the setting-sun, to them? +They have met to listen to words of passion and bitterness, to doctrines +of strife, to denunciations and criminations against their fellow-men. +And, doubtless, a similar scene of freemen invoking the spirit of +contention that we behold yonder in that pleasant valley of the Old +Dominion, is being enacted at the North and at the South, at the East +and at the West, all over the length and breadth of our country. The +seeds of discord are being carefully and persistently gathered and +disseminated, and on both sides, these erring mortals will claim to be +acting in the name of patriotism. Beverly, do you surmise nothing +ominous of evil in that gathering?"</p> + +<p>"Ten to one, some stirring news from Charleston. We must ride over after +supper, Arthur, and learn the upshot of it."</p> + +<p>"And I will be a sybil for the nonce," said Oriana, with a kindling eye, +"and prophecy that Southern cannon have opened upon Sumter."</p> + +<p>In the evening, in despite of a threatening sky, Arthur and Beverly +mounted their horses and galloped toward Richmond. As they approached +the city, the rain fell heavily and they sought shelter at a wayside +tavern. Observing the public room to be full, they passed into a private +parlor and ordered some slight refreshment. In the adjoining tap-room +they could hear the voices of excited men, discussing some topic of +absorbing interest. Their anticipations were realized, for they quickly +gathered from the tenor of the disjointed conversation that the +bombardment of Fort Sumter had begun.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet my pile," said a rough voice, "that the gridiron bunting won't +float another day in South Carolina."</p> + +<p>"I'll go you halves on that, hoss, and you and I won't grow greyer nor +we be, before Old Virginny says 'me too.'"</p> + +<p>"Seth Rawbon, you'd better be packing your traps for Massachusetts. +She'll want you afore long."</p> + +<p>"Boys," ejaculated the last-mentioned personage, with an oath, "I left +off being a Massachusetts man twelve years ago. I'm with <i>you,</i> and you +know it. Let's drink. Boys, here's to spunky little South Carolina; may +she go in and win! Stranger, what'll you drink?"</p> + +<p>"I will not drink," replied a clear, manly voice, which had been silent +till then.</p> + +<p>"And why will you not drink?" rejoined the other, mocking the dignified +and determined tone in which the invitation was refused.</p> + +<p>"It is sufficient that I will not."</p> + +<p>"Mayhap you don't like my sentiment?"</p> + +<p>"Right."</p> + +<p>"Look you, Mr. Harold Hare, I know you well, and I think we'll take you +down from your high horse before you're many hours older in these parts. +Boys, let's make him drink to South Carolina."</p> + +<p>"Who is he, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"He's an abolitionist; just the kind that'll look a darned sight more +natural in a coat of tar and feathers. Cut out his heart and you'll find +John Brown's picture there as large as life."</p> + +<p>At the mention of Harold's name, Arthur and Beverly had started up +simultaneously, and throwing open the bar-room door, entered hastily. +Harold had risen from his seat and stood confronting Rawbon with an air +in which anger and contempt were strangely blended. The latter leaned +with awkward carelessness against the counter, sipping a glass of +spirits and water with a malicious smile.</p> + +<p>"You are an insolent scoundrel," said Harold, "and I would horsewhip +you, if you were worth the pains."</p> + +<p>Rawbon looked around and for a second seemed to study the faces of +those about him. Then lazily reaching over toward Harold, he took him by +the arm and drew him toward the counter.</p> + +<p>"Say, you just come and drink to South Carolina."</p> + +<p>The heavy horsewhip in Harold's hand rose suddenly and descended like a +flash. The knotted lash struck Rawbon full in the mouth, splitting the +lips like a knife. In an instant several knives were drawn, and Rawbon, +spluttering an oath through the spurting blood that choked his +utterance, drew a revolver from its holster at his side.</p> + +<p>The entrance of the two young men was timely. They immediately placed +themselves in front of Harold, and Arthur, with his usual mild +expression, looked full in Rawbon's eye, although the latter's pistol +was in a line with his breast.</p> + +<p>"Stand out of the way, you two," shouted Rawbon, savagely.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this, gentlemen?" said Beverly, quietly, to the +excited bystanders, to several of whom he was personally known.</p> + +<p>"Squire Weems," replied one among them, "you had better stand aside. +Rawbon has a lien on that fellow's hide. He's an abolitionist, anyhow, +and ain't worth your interference."</p> + +<p>"He is my very intimate friend, and I will answer for him to any one +here," said Beverly, warmly.</p> + +<p>"I will answer for myself," said Hare, pressing forward.</p> + +<p>"Then answer that!" yelled Rawbon, levelling and shooting with a rapid +movement. But Wayne's quiet eye had been riveted upon him all the while, +and he had thrown up the ruffian's arm as he pulled the trigger.</p> + +<p>Beverly's eyes flashed like live coals, and he sprang at Rawbon's +throat, but the crowd pressed between them, and for a while the utmost +confusion prevailed, but no blows were struck. The landlord, a sullen, +black-browed man, who had hitherto leaned silently on the counter, +taking no part in the fray, now interposed.</p> + +<p>"Come, I don't want no more loose shooting here!" and, by way of +assisting his remark, he took down his double-barrelled shot-gun and +jumped upon the counter. The fellow was well known for a desperate +though not quarrelsome character, and his action had the effect of +somewhat quieting the excited crowd.</p> + +<p>"Boys," continued he, "it's only Yankee against Yankee, anyhow; if +they're gwine to fight, let the stranger have fair play. Here stranger, +if you're a friend of Squire Weems, you kin have a fair show in my +house, I reckon, so take hold of this," and taking a revolver from his +belt, he passed it to Beverly, who cocked it and slipped it into +Harold's hand. Rawbon, who throughout the confusion had been watching +for the opportunity of a shot at his antagonist, now found himself front +to front with the object of his hate, for the bystanders had +instinctively drawn back a space, and even Wayne and Weems, willing to +trust to their friend's coolness and judgment, had stepped aside.</p> + +<p>Harold sighted his man as coolly as if he had been aiming at a squirrel. +Rawbon did not flinch, for he was not wanting in physical courage, but +he evidently concluded that the chances were against him, and with a +bitter smile, he walked slowly toward the door. Turning at the +threshold, he scowled for a moment at Harold, as if hesitating whether +to accept the encounter.</p> + +<p>"I'll fix you yet," he finally muttered, and left the room. A few +moments afterward, the three friends were mounted and riding briskly +toward Riverside manor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV"></a><h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Oriana, after awaiting till a late hour the return of her brother and +his friend, had retired to rest, and was sleeping soundly when the party +entered the house, after their remarkable adventure. She was therefore +unconscious, upon descending from her apartment in the morning, of the +addition to her little household. Standing upon the veranda, she +perceived what she supposed to be her brother's form moving among the +shrubbery in the garden. She hastened to accost him, curious to +ascertain the nature of the excitement in Richmond on the preceding +afternoon. Great was her astonishment and unfeigned her pleasure, upon +turning a little clump of bushes, to find herself face to face with +Harold Hare.</p> + +<p>He had been lost in meditation, but upon seeing her his brow lit up as a +midnight sky brightens when a passing cloud has unshrouded the full +moon. With a cry of joy she held out both her hands to him, which he +pressed silently for a moment as he gazed tenderly upon the upturned, +smiling face, and then, pushing back the black tresses, he touched her +white forehead with his lips.</p> + +<p>Arthur Wayne was looking out from his lattice above, and his eye chanced +to turn that way at the moment of the meeting. He started as if struck +with a sudden pang, and his cheek, always pale, became of an ashen hue. +Long he gazed with labored breath upon the pair, as if unable to realize +what he had seen; then, with a suppressed moan, he sank into a chair, +and leaned his brow heavily upon his hand. Thus for half an hour he +remained motionless; it was only after a second summons that he roused +himself and descended to the morning meal.</p> + +<p>At the breakfast table Oriana was in high spirits, and failed to observe +that Arthur was more sad than usual. Her brother, however, was +preoccupied and thoughtful, and even Harold, although happy in the +society of one he loved, could not refrain from moments of abstraction. +Of course the adventure of the preceding night was concealed from +Oriana, but it yet furnished the young men with matter for reflection; +and, coupled with the exciting intelligence from South Carolina, it +suggested, to Harold especially, a vision of an unhappy future. It was +natural that the thought should obtrude itself of how soon a barrier +might be placed between friends and loved ones, and the most sacred ties +sundered, perhaps forever.</p> + +<p>Miss Randolph, Oriana's aunt, usually reserved and silent, seemed on +this occasion the most inquisitive and talkative of the party. Her +interest in the momentous turn that affairs had taken was naturally +aroused, and she questioned the young men closely as to their view of +the probable consequences.</p> + +<p>"Surely," she remarked, "a nation of Christian people will choose some +alternative other than the sword to adjust their differences."</p> + +<p>"Why, aunt," replied Oriana, with spirit, "what better weapon than the +sword for the oppressed?"</p> + +<p>"I fear there is treason lurking in that little heart of yours," said +Harold, with a pensive smile.</p> + +<p>"I am a true Southerner, Mr. Hare; and if I were a man, I would take +down my father's rifle and march into General Beauregard's camp. We have +been too long anathematized as the vilest of God's creatures, because we +will not turn over to the world's cold charity the helpless beings that +were bequeathed into our charge by our fathers. I would protect my slave +against Northern fanaticism as firmly as I would guard my children from +the interference of a stranger, were I a mother."</p> + +<p>"The government against which you would rebel," said Harold, +"contemplates no interference with your slaves."</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Hare," rejoined Oriana, warmly, "we of the South can see the +spirit of abolitionism sitting in the executive chair, as plainly as we +see the sunshine on an unclouded summer day. As well might we change +places with our bondmen, as submit to this deliberate crusade against +our institutions. Mr. Wayne, you are a man not prone to prejudice, I +sincerely believe. Would you from your heart assert that this government +is not hostile to Southern slavery?"</p> + +<p>"I believe you are, on both sides, too sensitive upon the unhappy +subject. You are breeding danger, and perhaps ruin, out of abstract +ideas, and civil war will have laid the country waste before either +party will have awakened to a knowledge that no actual cause of +contention exists."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Beverly, "the mere fact that the two sections are +hostile in sentiment, is the best reason why they should be hostile in +deed, if a separation can only be accomplished by force of arms."</p> + +<p>"And do you really fancy," said Harold, sharply, "that a separation is +possible, in the face of the opposition of twenty millions of loyal +citizens?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," interrupted Oriana, "in the face of the opposing world. We +established our right to self-government in 1776; and in 1861 we are +prepared to prove our power to sustain that right."</p> + +<p>"You are a young enthusiast," said Harold, smiling. "This rebellion will +be crushed before the flowers in that garden shall be touched with the +earliest frost."</p> + +<p>"I think you have formed a false estimate of the movement," remarked +Beverly, gravely; "or rather, you have not fully considered of the +subject."</p> + +<p>"Harold," said Arthur, sadly, "I regret, and perhaps censure, equally +with yourself, the precipitancy of our Carolinian brothers; but this is +not an age, nor a country, where six millions of freeborn people can be +controlled by bayonets and cannon."</p> + +<p>They were about rising from the table, when a servant announced that +some gentlemen desired to speak with Mr. Weems in private. He passed +into the drawing-room, and found himself in the presence of three men, +two of whom he recognized as small farmers of the neighborhood, and the +other as the landlord of a public house. With a brief salutation, he +seated himself beside them, and after a few commonplace remarks, paused, +as if to learn their business with him.</p> + +<p>After a little somewhat awkward hesitation, the publican broke silence.</p> + +<p>"Squire Weems, we've called about a rather unpleasant sort of business"</p> + +<p>"The sooner we transact it, then, the better for all, I fancy, +gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Just so. Old Judge Weems, your father, was a true Virginian, squire, +and we know you are of the right sort, too." Beverly bowed in +acknowledgment of the compliment. "Squire, the boys hereabouts met down +thar at my house last night, to take into consideration them two +Northern fellows that are putting up with you."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir?"</p> + +<p>"We don't want any Yankee abolitionists in these parts."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lucas, I have no guests for whom I will not vouch."</p> + +<p>"Can't help that, squire, them chaps is spotted, and the boys have voted +they must leave. As they be your company, us three've been deputized to +call on you and have a talk about it. We don't want to do nothing +unpleasant whar you're consarned, squire."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, my guests shall remain with me while they please to honor me +with their company, and I will protect them from violence or indignity +with my life."</p> + +<p>"There's no mistake but you're good grit, squire, but 'tain't no use. +You know what the boys mean to do, they'll do. Now, whar's the good of +kicking up a shindy about it?"</p> + +<p>"No good whatever, Mr. Lucas. You had better let this matter drop. You +know me too well to suppose that I would harbor dangerous characters. It +is my earnest desire to avoid everything that may bring about an +unnecessary excitement, or disturb the peace of the community; and I +shall therefore make no secret of this, interview to my friends. But +whether they remain with me or go, shall be entirely at their option. I +trust that my roof will be held sacred by my fellow-citizens."</p> + +<p>"There'll be no harm done to you or yours, Squire Weems, whatever +happens. But those strangers had better be out of these parts by +to-morrow, sure. Good morning, squire."</p> + +<p>"Good morning, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>And the three worthies took their departure, not fully satisfied whether +the object of their mission had been fulfilled.</p> + +<p>Beverly, anxious to avoid a collision with the wild spirits of the +neighborhood, which would be disagreeable, if not dangerous, to his +guests, frankly related to Harold and Arthur the tenor of the +conversation that had passed. Oriana was on fire with indignation, but +her concern for Harold's safety had its weight with her, and she wisely +refrained from opposing their departure; and both the young men, aware +that a prolongation of their visit would cause the family at Riverside +manor much inconvenience and anxiety, straightway announced their +intention of proceeding northward on the following morning.</p> + +<p>But it was no part of Seth Rawbon's purpose to allow his rival, Hare, to +depart in peace. The chastisement which he had received at Harold's +hands added a most deadly hate to the jealousy which his knowledge of +Oriana's preference had caused. He had considerable influence with +several of the dissolute and lawless characters of the vicinity, and a +liberal allowance of Monongahela, together with sundry pecuniary favors, +enabled him to depend upon their assistance in any adventure that did +not promise particularly serious results. Now the capture and mock trial +of a couple of Yankee strangers did not seem much out of the way to +these not over-scrupulous worthies; and Rawbon's cunning +representations as to the extent of their abolition proclivities were +scarcely necessary, in view of the liberality of his bribes, to secure +their cooperation in his scheme.</p> + +<p>Rawbon had been prowling about the manor house during the day, in the +hope of obtaining some clue to the intentions of the inmates, and +observing a mulatto boy engaged in arranging the boat for present use, +he walked carelessly along the bank to the old boat-house, and, by a few +adroit questions, ascertained that "Missis and the two gen'lmen gwine to +take a sail this arternoon."</p> + +<p>The evening was drawing on apace when Oriana, accompanied by Arthur and +Harold, set forth on the last of the many excursions they had enjoyed on +James River; but they had purposely selected a late hour, that on their +return they might realize the tranquil pleasures of a sail by moonlight. +Beverly was busy finishing some correspondence for the North, which he +intended giving into the charge of his friend Arthur, and he therefore +remained at home. Phil, a smart mulatto, about ten years of age, who was +a general favorite in the family and an especial pet of Oriana, was +allowed to accompany the party.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely evening, only cool enough to be comfortable for Oriana +to be wrapped in her woollen shawl. As the shadows of twilight darkened +on the silent river, a spirit of sadness was with the party, that vague +and painful melancholy that weighs upon the heart when happy ties are +about to be sundered, and loved ones are about to part. Arthur had +brought his flute, and with an effort to throw off the feeling of gloom, +he essayed a lively air; but it seemed like discord by association with +their thoughts. He ceased abruptly, and, at Oriana's request, chose a +more mournful theme. When the last notes of the plaintive melody had +been lost in the stillness of the night, there was an oppressive pause, +only broken by the rustle of the little sail and the faint rippling of +the wave.</p> + +<p>"I seem to be sailing into the shadows of misfortune," said Oriana, in a +low, sad tone. "I wish the moon would rise, for this darkness presses +upon my heart like the fingers of a sorrowful destiny. What a coward I +am to-night!"</p> + +<p>"A most obedient satellite," replied Arthur. "Look where she heralds +her approach by spreading a misty glow on the brow of yonder hill."</p> + +<p>"We have left the shadows of misfortune behind us," said Harold, as a +flood of moonlight flashed over the river, seeming to dash a million of +diamonds in the path of the gliding boat.</p> + +<p>"Alas! the fickle orb!" murmured Oriana; "it rises but to mock us, and +hides itself already in the bosom of that sable cloud. Is there not a +threat of rain there, Mr. Hare?"</p> + +<p>"It looks unpromising, at the best," said Harold; "I think it would be +prudent to return."</p> + +<p>Suddenly, little Phil, who had been lying at ease, with his head against +the thwarts, arose on his elbow and cried out:</p> + +<p>"Wha'dat?"</p> + +<p>"What is what, Phil?" asked Oriana. "Why, Phil, you have been dreaming," +she added, observing the lad's confusion at having spoken so vehemently.</p> + +<p>"Miss Orany, dar's a boat out yonder. I heard 'em pulling, sure."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Phil! you've been asleep."</p> + +<p>"By Gol! I heard 'em, sure. What a boat doing round here dis time o' +night? Dem's some niggers arter chickens, sure."</p> + +<p>And little Phil, satisfied that he had fathomed the mystery, lay down +again in a fit of silent indignation. The boat was put about, but the +wind had died away, and the sail flapped idly against the mast. Harold, +glad of the opportunity for a little exercise, shipped the sculls and +bent to his work.</p> + +<p>"Miss Oriana, put her head for the bank if you please. We shall have +less current to pull against in-shore."</p> + +<p>The boat glided along under the shadow of the bank, and no sound was +heard but the regular thugging and splashing of the oars and the voices +of insects on the shore. They approached a curve in the river where the +bank was thickly wooded, and dense shrubbery projected over the stream.</p> + +<p>"Wha' dat?" shouted Phil again, starting up in the bow and peering into +the darkness. A boat shot out from the shadow of the foliage, and her +course was checked directly in their path. The movement was so sudden +that, before Harold could check his headway, the two boats fouled. A +boathook was thrust into the thwarts; Arthur sprang to the bows to cast +it off.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch that," shouted a hoarse voice; and he felt the muzzle of a +pistol thrust into his breast.</p> + +<p>"None of that, Seth," cried another; and the speaker laid hold of his +comrade's arm. "We must have no shooting, you know."</p> + +<p>Arthur had thrown off the boathook, but some half-dozen armed men had +already leaped into the frail vessel, crowding it to such an extent that +a struggle, even had it not been madness against such odds, would have +occasioned great personal danger to Oriana. Both Arthur and Harold +seemed instinctively to comprehend this, and therefore offered no +opposition. Their boat was taken in tow, and in a few moments the entire +party, with one exception, were landed upon the adjacent bank. That +exception was little Phil. In the confusion that ensued upon the +collision of the two boats, the lad had quietly slipped overboard, and +swam ground to the stern where his mistress sat. "Miss Orany, hist! Miss +Orany!"</p> + +<p>The bewildered girl turned and beheld the black face peering over the +gunwale.</p> + +<p>"Miss Orany, here I is. O Lor'! Miss Orany, what we gwine to do?"</p> + +<p>She bowed her head toward him and whispered hurriedly, but calmly:</p> + +<p>"Mind what I tell you, Phil. You watch where they take us to, and then +run home and tell Master Beverly. Do you understand me, Phil?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I does, Miss Orany;" and the little fellow struck out silently for +the shore, and crept among the bushes.</p> + +<p>Oriana betrayed no sign, of fear as she stood with her two companions on +the bank a few paces from their captors. The latter, in a low but +earnest tone, were disputing with one who seemed to act as their leader.</p> + +<p>"You didn't tell us nothing about the lady," said a brawny, +rugged-looking fellow, angrily. "Now, look here, Seth Rawbon, this ain't +a goin' to do. I'd cut your heart out, before I'd let any harm come to +Squire Weems's sister."</p> + +<p>"You lied to us, you long-headed Yankee turncoat," muttered another. +"What in thunder do you mean bringing us down here for kidnapping a +lady?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't I worried about it as much as you?" answered Rawbon. "Can't you +understand it's all a mistake?"</p> + +<p>"Well, now, you go and apologize to Miss Weems and fix matters, d'ye +hear?"</p> + +<p>"But what can we do?"</p> + +<p>"Do? Undo what you've done, and show her back into the boat."</p> + +<p>"But the two abo"—</p> + +<p>"Damn them and you along with 'em! Come, boys, don't let's keep the lady +waiting thar."</p> + +<p>The party approached their prisoners, and one among them, hat in hand, +respectfully addressed Oriana.</p> + +<p>"Miss Weems, we're plaguy sorry this should 'a happened. It's a mistake +and none of our fault. Your boat's down thar and yer shan't be +merlested."</p> + +<p>"Am I free to go?" asked Oriana, calmly.</p> + +<p>"Free as air, Miss Weems."</p> + +<p>"With my companions?"</p> + +<p>"No, they remain with us," said Rawbon.</p> + +<p>"Then I remain with them," she replied, with dignity and firmness.</p> + +<p>The man who had first remonstrated with Rawbon, stepped up to him and +laid his hand heavily on his shoulder:</p> + +<p>"Look here, Seth Rawbon, you've played out your hand in this game, now +mind that. Miss Weems, you're free to go, anyhow, with them chaps or +not, just as you like."</p> + +<p>They stepped down the embankment, but the boats were nowhere to be seen. +Rawbon, anticipating some trouble with his gang, had made a pretence +only of securing the craft to a neighboring bush. The current had +carried the boats out into the stream, and they had floated down the +river and were lost to sight in the darkness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_V"></a><h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>There was no remedy but to cross the woodland and cornfields that for +about a league intervened between their position and the highway. They +commenced the tedious tramp, Arthur and Harold exerting themselves to +the utmost to protect Oriana from the brambles, and to guide her +footsteps along the uneven ground and among the decayed branches and +other obstacles that beset their path. Their rude companions, too, with +the exception of Rawbon, who walked moodily apart, seemed solicitous to +assist her with their rough attentions. To add to the disagreeable +nature of their situation, the rain began to fall in torrents before +they had accomplished one half of the distance. They were then in the +midst of a tract of wooded land that was almost impassable for a lady in +the darkness, on account of the yielding nature of the soil, and the +numerous ruts and hollows that were soon transformed into miniature +pools and streams. Oriana strove to treat the adventure as a theme for +laughter, and for awhile chatted gaily with her companions; but it was +evident that she was fast becoming weary, and that her thin-shod feet +were wounded by constant contact with the twigs and sharp stones that it +was impossible to avoid in the darkness. Her dress was torn, and heavy +with mud and moisture, and the two young men were pained to perceive +that, in spite of her efforts and their watchful care, she stumbled +frequently with exhaustion, and leaned heavily on their arms as she +labored through the miry soil.</p> + +<p>One of the party opportunely remembered a charcoal-burner's hut in the +vicinity, that would at least afford a rude shelter from the driving +storm. Several of the men hastened in search of it, and soon a halloo +not far distant indicated that the cabin, such as it was, had been +discovered. As they approached, they were surprised to observe rays of +light streaming through the cracks and crevices, as if a fire were +blazing within. It was an uninviting structure, hastily constructed of +unhewn logs, and upon ordinary occasions Oriana would have hesitated to +pass the threshold; but wet and weary as she was, she was glad to +obtain the shelter of even so poor a hovel.</p> + +<p>"There's a runaway in thar, I reckon," said one of the party. He threw +open the door, and several of the men entered. A fire of logs was +burning on the earthen floor, and beside it was stretched a negro's +form, wrapped in a tattered blanket. He started up as his unwelcome +visitors entered, and looked frightened and bewildered, as if suddenly +awakened from a sound sleep. However, he had no sooner laid eyes upon +Seth Rawbon than, with a yell of fear, he sprang with a powerful leap +through the doorway, leaving his blanket in the hands of those who +sought to grasp him.</p> + +<p>"That's my nigger Jim!" cried Rawbon, discharging his revolver at the +dusky form as it ran like a deer into the shadow of the woods. At every +shot, the negro jumped and screamed, but, from his accelerated speed, +was apparently untouched.</p> + +<p>"After him, boys!" shouted Rawbon. "Five dollars apiece and a gallon of +whisky if you bring the varmint in."</p> + +<p>With a whoop, the whole party went off in chase and were soon lost to +view in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Harold and Arthur led Oriana into the hut, and, spreading their coats +upon the damp floor, made a rude couch for her beside the fire. The poor +girl was evidently prostrated with fatigue and excitement, yet, with a +faint laugh and a jest as she glanced around upon the questionable +accommodations, she thanked them for their kindness, and seated herself +beside the blazing fagots.</p> + +<p>"This is a strange finale to our pleasure excursion," she said, as the +grateful warmth somewhat revived her spirits. "You must acknowledge me a +prophetess, gentlemen," she added, with a smile, "for you see that we +sailed indeed into the shadows of misfortune."</p> + +<p>"Should your health not suffer from this exposure," replied Arthur, "our +adventure will prove no misfortune, but only a theme for mirth +hereafter, when we recall to mind our present piteous plight."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am strong, Mr. Wayne," she answered cheerfully, perceiving the +expression of solicitude in the countenances of her companions, "and +have passed the ordeal of many a thorough wetting with impunity. Never +fear but I shall fare well enough. I am only sorry and ashamed that all +our boasted Virginia hospitality can afford you no better quarters than +this for your last night among us."</p> + +<p>"Apart from the discomfort to yourself, this little episode will only +make brighter by contrast my remembrance of the many happy hours we have +passed together," said Arthur, with a tone of deep feeling that caused +Oriana to turn and gaze thoughtfully into the flaming pile.</p> + +<p>Harold said nothing, and stood leaning moodily against the wall of the +hovel, evidently a prey to painful thoughts. His mind wandered into the +glooms of the future, and dwelt upon the hour when he, perhaps, should +tread with hostile arms the soil that was the birthplace of his beloved. +"Can it be possible," he thought, "that between us twain, united as we +are in soul, there can exist such variance of opinion as will make her +kin and mine enemies, and perhaps the shedders of each other's blood!"</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and Oriana, her raiment being partially dried, +rested her head upon her arm and slumbered.</p> + +<p>The storm increased in violence, and the rain, pelting against the cabin +roof, with its weird music, formed a dismal accompaniment to the +grotesque discomfort of their situation. Arthur threw fresh fuel upon +the fire, and the crackling twigs sent up a fitful flame, that fell +athwart the face of the sleeping girl, and revealed an expression of +sorrow upon her features that caused him to turn away with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Arthur," asked Harold, abruptly, "do you think this unfortunate affair +at Sumter will breed much trouble?"</p> + +<p>"I fear it," said Arthur, sadly. "Our Northern hearts are made of +sterner stuff than is consistent with the spirit of conciliation."</p> + +<p>"And what of Southern hearts?"</p> + +<p>"You have studied them," said Arthur, with a pensive smile, and bending +his gaze upon the sleeping maiden.</p> + +<p>Harold colored slightly, and glanced half reproachfully at his friend.</p> + +<p>"I cannot help believing," continued the latter, "that we are blindly +invoking a fatal strife, more in the spirit of exaltation than of calm +and searching philosophy. I am confident that the elements of union +still exist within the sections, but my instinct, no less than my +judgment, tells me that they will no longer exist when the +chariot-wheels of war shall have swept over the land. Whatever be the +disparity of strength, wealth and numbers, and whatever may be the +result of encounters upon the battle-field, such a terrible war as both +sides are capable of waging can never build up or sustain a fabric whose +cement must be brotherhood and kindly feeling. I would as soon think to +woo the woman of my choice with angry words and blows, as to reconcile +our divided fellow citizens by force of arms."</p> + +<p>"You are more a philosopher than a patriot," said Harold, with some +bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Not so," answered Arthur, warmly. "I love my country—so well, indeed, +that I cannot be aroused into hostility to any section of it. My reason +does not admit the necessity for civil war, and it becomes therefore a +sacred obligation with me to give my voice against the doctrine of +coercion. My judgment may err, or my sensibilities may be 'too full of +the milk of human kindness' to serve the stern exigencies of the crisis +with a Spartan's callousness and a Roman's impenetrability; but for you +to affirm that, because true to my own opinions, I must be false to my +country, is to deny me that independence of thought to which my country, +as a nation, owes its existence and its grandeur."</p> + +<p>"You boast your patriotism, and yet you seem to excuse those who seek +the dismemberment of your country."</p> + +<p>"I do not excuse them, but I would not have them judged harshly, for I +believe they have acted under provocation."</p> + +<p>"What provocation can justify rebellion against a government so +beneficent as ours?"</p> + +<p>"I will not pretend to justify, because I think there is much to be +forgiven on either side. But if anything can palliate the act, it is +that system of determined hostility which for years has been levelled +against an institution which they believe to be righteous and founded +upon divine precept. But I think this is not the hour for justification +or for crimination. I am convinced that the integrity of the Union can +only be preserved by withholding the armed hand at this crisis. And +pray Heaven, our government may forbear to strike!"</p> + +<p>"Would you, then, have our flag trampled upon with impunity, and our +government confessed a cipher, because, forsooth, you have a +constitutional repugnance to the severities of warfare? Away with such +sickly sentimentality! Such theories, if carried into practice, would +reduce us to a nation of political dwarfs and puny drivellers, fit only +to grovel at the footstools of tyrants."</p> + +<p>"I could better bear an insult to our flag than a deathblow to our +nationality. And I feel that our nationality would not survive a +struggle between the sections. There is no danger that we should be +dwarfed in intellect or spirit by practising forbearance toward our +brothers."</p> + +<p>"Is treason less criminal because it is the treason of brother against +brother? If so, then must a traitor of necessity go unpunished, since +the nature of the crime requires that the culprit be your countryman. +How hollow are your arguments when applied to existing facts!"</p> + +<p>"You forget that I counsel moderation as an expediency, as even a +necessity, for the public good. It were poor policy to compass the +country's ruin for the sake of bringing chastisement upon error."</p> + +<p>"That can be but a questionable love of country that would humiliate a +government to the act of parleying with rebellion."</p> + +<p>"My love of country is not confined to one section of the country, or to +one division of my countrymen. The lessons of the historic past have +taught me otherwise. If, when a schoolboy, poring over the pages of my +country's history, I have stood, in imagination, with Prescott at Bunker +Hill, and stormed with Ethan Allen at the gates of Ticonderoga, I have +also mourned with Washington at Valley Forge, and followed Marion and +Sumter through the wilds of Carolina. If I have fancied myself at work +with Yankee sailors at the guns, and poured the shivering broadside into +the Guerriere, I have helped to man the breastworks at New Orleans, and +seen the ranks that stood firm at Waterloo wavering before the blaze of +Southern rifles. If I have read of the hardy Northern volunteers on the +battle-plains of Mexico; I remember the Palmetto boys at Cherubusco, +and the brave Mississippians at Buena Vista. Is it a wonder, then, that +my heartstrings ache when I see the links breaking that bind me to such +memories? If I would have the Government parley awhile for the sake of +peace, even although the strict law sanction the bayonet and cannon, I +do it in the name of the sacred past, when the ties of brotherhood were +strong. I counsel not humiliation nor submission, but conciliation. I +counsel it, not only as an expedient, but as a tribute to the affinities +of almost a century. I love the Union too well to be willing that its +fate should be risked upon the uncertainties of war. I believe in my +conscience that the chances of its reconstruction depend rather upon +negotiation than upon battles. I may err, or you, as my opponent in +opinion, may err; for while I assume not infallibility for myself, I +deny it, with justice, to my neighbor. But I think as my heart and +intellect dictate, and my patriotism should not be questioned by one as +liable to error as myself. Should I yield my honest convictions upon a +question of such vital importance as my country's welfare, then indeed +should I be a traitor to my country and myself. But to accuse me of +questionable patriotism for my independence of thought, is, in itself, +treason against God and man."</p> + +<p>"I believe you sincere in your convictions, Arthur, not because touched +by your argument, but because I have known you too long and well to +believe you capable of an unworthy motive. But what, in the name of +common justice, would you have us do, when rebellion already thunders at +the gates of our citadels with belching cannon? Shall we sit by our +firesides and nod to the music of their artillery?"</p> + +<p>"I would have every American citizen, in this crisis, as in all others, +divest himself of all prejudice and sectional feeling: I would have him +listen to and ponder upon the opinions of his fellow citizens, and, with +the exercise of his best judgment, to discard the bad, and take counsel +from the good; then, I would have him conclude for himself, not whether +his flag has been insulted, or whether there are injuries to avenge, or +criminals to be punished, but what is best and surest to be done for +the welfare of his country. If he believe the Union can only be +preserved by war, let his voice be for war; if by peace, let him counsel +peace, as I do, from my heart; if he remain in doubt, let him incline to +peace, secure that in so doing he will best obey the teachings of +Christianity, the laws of humanity, and the mighty voice that is +speaking from the soul of enlightenment, pointing out the errors of the +past, and disclosing the secret of human happiness for the future."</p> + +<p>Arthur's eye kindled as he spoke, and the flush of excitement, to which +he was habitually a stranger, colored his pale cheek. Oriana had +awakened with the vehemence of his language, and gazing with interest +upon his now animated features, had been listening to his closing words. +Harold was about to answer, when suddenly the baying of a hound broke +through the noise of the storm.</p> + +<p>"That is a bloodhound!" exclaimed Harold with an accent of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Oriana. "There are no bloodhounds in this neighborhood, +nor are they at all in use, I am sure, in Virginia."</p> + +<p>"I am not mistaken," replied Harold. "I have been made familiar with +their baying while surveying on the coast of Florida. Listen!"</p> + +<p>The deep, full tones came swelling upon the night wind, and fell with a +startling distinctness upon the ear.</p> + +<p>"It's my hound, Mister Hare," said a low, coarse voice at the doorway, +and Seth Rawbon entered the cabin and closed the door behind him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI"></a><h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"It's my hound. Miss Weems, and I guess he's on the track of that +nigger, Jim."</p> + +<p>Oriana started as if stung by a serpent, and rising to her feet, looked +upon the man with such an expression of contempt and loathing that the +ruffian's brow grew black with anger as he returned her gaze. Harold +confronted him, and spoke in a low, earnest tone, and between his +clenched teeth:</p> + +<p>"If you are a man you will go at once. This persecution of a woman is +beneath even your brutality. If you have an account with me, I will not +balk you. But relieve her from the outrage of your presence here."</p> + +<p>"I guess I'd better be around," replied Rawbon, coolly, as he leaned +against the door, with his hands in his coat pocket. "That dog is +dangerous when he's on the scent. You see, Miss Weems," he continued, +speaking over Harold's shoulder, "my niggers are plaguy troublesome, +and I keep the hound to cow them down a trifle. But he wouldn't hurt a +lady, I think—unless I happened to encourage him a bit, do you see."</p> + +<p>And the man showed his black teeth with a grin that caused Oriana to +shudder and turn away.</p> + +<p>Harold's brow was like a thunder-cloud, from beneath which his eyes +flashed like the lightning at midnight.</p> + +<p>"Your words imply a threat which I cannot understand. Ruffian! What do +mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean no good to you, my buck!"</p> + +<p>His lip, with the deep cut upon it, curled with hate, but he still +leaned coolly against the door, though a quick ear might have caught a +click, as if he had cocked a pistol in his pocket. It was a habit with +Harold to go unarmed. Fearless and self-reliant by nature, even upon his +surveying expeditions in wild and out of the way districts, he carried +no weapon beyond sometimes a stout oaken staff. But now, his form +dilated, and the muscles of his arm contracted, as if he were about to +strike. Oriana understood the movement and the danger. She advanced +quietly but quickly to his side, and took his hand within her own.</p> + +<p>"He is not worth your anger, Harold. For my sake, Harold, do not provoke +him further," she added softly, as she drew him from the spot.</p> + +<p>At this moment the baying of the hound was heard, apparently in close +proximity to the hovel, and presently there was a heavy breathing and +snuffling at the threshold, followed by a bound against the door, and a +howl of rage and impatience. Nothing prevented the entrance of the +animal except the form of Rawbon, who still leaned quietly against the +rude frame, which, hanging upon leathern hinges, closed the aperture.</p> + +<p>There was something frightful in the hoarse snarling of the angry beast, +as he dashed his heavy shoulder against the rickety framework, and +Oriana shrank nervously to Harold's side.</p> + +<p>"Secure that dog!" he said, as, while soothing the trembling girl, he +looked over his shoulder reproachfully at Rawbon. His tone was low, and +even gentle, but it was tremulous with passion. But the man gave no +answer, and continued leering at them as before.</p> + +<p>Arthur walked to him and spoke almost in an accent of entreaty.</p> + +<p>"Sir, for the sake of your manhood, take away your dog and leave us."</p> + +<p>He did not answer.</p> + +<p>The hound, excited by the sound of voices, redoubled his efforts and his +fury. Oriana was sinking into Harold's arms.</p> + +<p>"This must end," he muttered. "Arthur, take her from me, she's fainting. +I'll go out and brain the dog."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, not yet," whispered Arthur. "For her sake be calm," and while +he received Oriana upon one arm, with the other he sought to stay his +friend.</p> + +<p>But Harold seized a brand from the fire, and sprang toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Stand from the door," he shouted, lifting the brand above Rawbon's +head. "Leave that, I say!"</p> + +<p>Rawbon's lank form straightened, and in an instant the revolver flashed +in the glare of the fagots.</p> + +<p>He did not shoot, but his face grew black with passion.</p> + +<p>"By God! you strike me, and I'll set the dog at the woman."</p> + +<p>At the sound of his master's voice, the hound set up a yell that seemed +unearthly. Harold was familiar with the nature of the species, and even +in the extremity of his anger, his anxiety for Oriana withheld his arm.</p> + +<p>"Look you here!" continued Rawbon, losing his quiet, mocking tone, and +fairly screaming with excitement, "do you see this?" He pointed to his +mangled lip, from which, by the action of his jaws while talking, the +plaster had just been torn, and the blood was streaming out afresh. "Do +you see this? I've got that to settle with you. I'll hunt you, by G—d! +as that hound hunts a nigger. Now see if I don't spoil that pretty face +of yours, some day, so that she won't look so sweet on you for all your +pretty talk."</p> + +<p>He seemed to calm abruptly after this, put up his pistol, and resumed +the wicked leer.</p> + +<p>"What would you have?" at last asked Arthur, mildly and with no trace of +anger in his voice.</p> + +<p>Rawbon turned to him with a searching glance, and, after a pause, said:</p> + +<p>"Terms."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"I want to make terms with you."</p> + +<p>"About what?"</p> + +<p>"About this whole affair."</p> + +<p>"Well. Go on."</p> + +<p>"I know you can hurt me for this with the law, and I know you mean to. +Now I want this matter hushed up."</p> + +<p>Harold would have spoken, but Arthur implored him with a glance, and +answered:</p> + +<p>"What assurance can you give us against your outrages in the future?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"None! Then why should we compromise with you?"</p> + +<p>"Because I've got the best hand to-night, and you know it. For her, you +know, you'll do 'most anything—now, won't you?"</p> + +<p>The fellow's complaisant smile caused Arthur to look away with disgust. +He turned to Harold, and they were conferring about Rawbon's strange +proposition, when Oriana raised her head suddenly and her face assumed +an expression of attention, as if her ear had caught a distant sound. +She had not forgotten little Phil, and knowing his sagacity and +faithfulness, she depended much upon his having followed her +instructions. And indeed, a moment after, the plashing of the hoofs of +horses in the wet soil could be distinctly heard.</p> + +<p>"Them's my overseer and his man, I guess," said Rawbon, with composure, +and he smiled again as he observed how effectually he had checked the +gleam of joy that had lightened Oriana's face.</p> + +<p>"'Twas he, you see, that set the dog on Jim's track, and now he's +following after, that's all."</p> + +<p>He had scarcely concluded, when a vigorous and excited voice was heard, +shouting: "There 'tis!—there's the hut, gentlemen! Push on!"</p> + +<p>"It is my brother! my brother!" cried Oriana, clasping her hands with +joy; and for the first time that night she burst into tears and sobbed +on Harold's shoulder.</p> + +<p>Rawbon's face grew livid with rage and disappointment. He flung open the +door and sprang out into the open air; but Oriana could see him pause +an instant at the threshold, and stooping, point into the cabin. The low +hissing word of command that accompanied the action reached her ear. She +knew what it meant and a faint shriek burst from her lips, more perhaps +from horror at the demoniac cruelty of the man, than from fear. The next +moment, a gigantic bloodhound, gaunt, mud-bespattered and with the froth +of fury oozing from his distended jaws, plunged through the doorway and +stood glaring in the centre of the cabin.</p> + +<p>Oriana stood like a sculptured ideal of terror, white and immovable; +Harold with his left arm encircled the rigid form, while his right hand +was uplifted, weaponless, but clenched with the energy of despair, till +the blood-drops burst from his palm. But Arthur stepped before them both +and fixed his calm blue eyes upon the monster's burning orbs. There was +neither fear, nor excitement, nor irresolution in that steadfast +gaze—it was like the clear, straightforward glance of a father checking +a wayward child—even the habitual sadness lingered in the deep azure, +and the features only changed to be cast in more placid mold. It was +the struggle of a brave and tranquil soul with the ferocious instincts +of the brute. The hound, crouched for a deadly spring, was fascinated by +this spectacle of the utter absence of emotion. His huge chest heaved +like a billow with his labored respiration, but the regular breathing of +the being that awed him was like that of a sleeping child. For full five +minutes—but it seemed an age—this silent but terrible duel was being +fought, and yet no succor came. Beverly and those who came with him must +have changed their course to pursue the fleeing Rawbon.</p> + +<p>"Lead her out softly, Harold," murmured Arthur, without changing a +muscle or altering his gaze. But the agony of suspense had been too +great—Oriana, with a convulsive shudder, swooned and hung like a corpse +upon Harold's arm.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! she is dying, Arthur!" he could not help exclaiming, for it +was indeed a counterpart of death that he held in his embrace.</p> + +<p>Then only did Arthur falter for an instant, and the hound was at his +throat. The powerful jaws closed with a snap upon his shoulder, and you +might have heard the sharp fangs grate against the bone. The shock of +the spring brought Arthur to the ground, and man and brute rolled over +together, and struggled in the mud and gore. Harold bore the lifeless +girl out into the air, and returning, closed the door. He seized a +brand, and with both hands levelled a fierce blow at the dog's neck. The +stick shivered like glass, but the creature only shook his grisly head, +but never quit his hold. With his bare hand he seized the live coals +from the thickest of the fire and pressed them against the flanks and +stomach of the tenacious animal; the brute howled and quivered in every +limb, but still the blood-stained fangs were firmly set into the +lacerated flesh. With both hands clasped around the monster's throat, he +exerted his strength till the finger-bones seemed to crack. He could +feel the pulsations of the dog's heart grow fainter and slower, and +could see in his rolling and upheaved eyeballs that the death-pang was +upon him; but those iron jaws still were locked in the torn shoulder; +and as Harold beheld the big drops start from his friend's ashy brow, +and his eyes filming with the leaden hue of unconsciousness, the +agonizing thought came to him that the dog and the man were dying +together in that terrible embrace.</p> + +<p>It was then that he fairly sobbed with the sensation of relief, as he +heard the prancing of steeds close by the cabin-door; and Beverly, +entering hastily, with a cry of horror, stood one moment aghast as he +looked on the frightful scene. Then, with repeated shots from his +revolver, he scattered the dog's brains over Arthur's blood-stained +bosom.</p> + +<p>Harold arose, and, faint and trembling with excitement and exhaustion, +leaned against the wall. Beverly knelt by the side of the wounded man, +and placed his hand above his heart. Harold turned to him with an +anxious look.</p> + +<p>"He has but fainted from loss of blood," said Beverly. "Harold, where is +my sister?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Oriana, who, in the fresh night air, had recovered from her +swoon, pale and with dishevelled hair, appeared at the cabin-door. +Harold and Beverly sought to lead her out before her eyes fell upon +Arthur's bleeding form; but she had already seen the pale, calm face, +clotted with blood, but with the beautiful sad smile still lingering +upon the parted lips. She appeared to see neither Harold nor her +brother, but only those tranquil features, above which the angel of +Death seemed already to have brushed his dewy wing. She put aside +Beverly's arm, which was extended to support her, and thrust him away as +if he had been a stranger. She unloosed her hand from Harold's +affectionate grasp, and with a long and suppressed moan of intense +anguish, she kneeled down in the little pool of blood beside the +extended form, with her hands tightly clasped, and wept bitterly.</p> + +<p>They raised her tenderly, and assured her that Arthur was not dead.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! oh, no!" she murmured, as the tears streamed out afresh, "he +must not die! He must not die for <i>me</i>! He is so good! so brave! A +child's heart, with the courage of a lion. Oh, Harold! why did you not +save him?"</p> + +<p>But as she took Harold's hand almost reproachfully, she perceived that +it was black and burnt, and he too was suffering; and she leaned her +brow upon his bosom and sobbed with a new sorrow.</p> + +<p>Beverly was almost vexed at the weakness his sister displayed. It was +unusual to her, and he forgot her weariness and the trial she had +passed. He had been binding some linen about Arthur's shoulder, and he +looked up and spoke to her in a less gentle tone.</p> + +<p>"Oriana, you are a child to-night. I have never seen you thus. Come, +help me with this bandage."</p> + +<p>She sighed heavily, but immediately ceased to weep, and said "Yes," +calmly and with firmness. Bending beside her brother, without faltering +or shrinking, she gave her white fingers to the painful task.</p> + +<p>In the stormy midnight, by the fitful glare of the dying embers, those +two silent men and that pale woman seemed to be keeping a vigil in an +abode of death. And the pattering rain and moan of the night-wind +sounded like a dirge.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Several gentlemen of the neighborhood, whom Beverly, upon hearing little +Phil's story, had hastily summoned to his assistance, now entered the +cabin, together with the male negroes of his household, who had mounted +the farm horses and eagerly followed to the rescue of their young +mistress. They had been detained without by an unsuccessful pursuit of +Rawbon, whose flight they had discovered, but who had easily evaded them +in the darkness. A rude litter was constructed for Arthur, but Oriana +declared herself well able to proceed on horseback, and would not listen +to any suggestion of delay on her account. She mounted Beverly's horse, +while he and Harold supplied themselves from among the horses that the +negroes had rode, and thus, slowly and silently, they threaded the +lonely forest, while ever and anon a groan from the litter struck +painfully upon their ears.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the manor house, a physician who had been summoned, +pronounced Arthur's hurt to be serious, but not dangerous. Upon +receiving this intelligence, Oriana and Harold were persuaded to retire, +and Beverly and his aunt remained as watchers at the bedside of the +wounded man.</p> + +<p>Oriana, despite her agitation, slept well, her rest being only disturbed +by fitful dreams, in which Arthur's pale face seemed ever present, now +smiling upon her mournfully, and now locked in the repose of death. She +arose somewhat refreshed, though still feverish and anxious, and walking +upon the veranda to breathe the morning air, she was joined by Harold, +with his hand in a sling, and much relieved by the application of a +poultice, which the skill of Miss Randolph had prepared. He informed her +that Arthur was sleeping quietly, and that she might dismiss all fears +as to his safety; and perhaps, if he had watched her closely, the +earnest expression of something more than pleasure with which she +received this assurance, might have given him cause for rumination. +Beverly descended soon afterward, and confirmed the favorable report +from the sick chamber, and Oriana retired into the house to assist in +preparing the morning meal.</p> + +<p>"Let us take a stroll by the riverside," said Beverly; "the air breathes +freshly after my night's vigil."</p> + +<p>"The storm has left none but traces of beauty behind," observed Harold, +as they crossed the lawn. The loveliness of the early morning was indeed +a pleasant sequel to the rude tempest of the preceding night. The +dewdrops glistened upon grass-blade and foliage, and the bosom of the +stream flashed merrily in the sunbeams.</p> + +<p>"It is," answered Beverly, "as if Nature were rejoicing that the war of +the elements is over, and a peace proclaimed. Would that the black cloud +upon our political horizon had as happily passed away."</p> + +<p>After a pause, he continued: "Harold, you need not fear to remain with +us a while longer. I am sure that Rawbon's confederates are heartily +ashamed of their participation in last night's outrage, and will on no +account be seduced to a similar adventure. Rawbon himself will not be +likely to show himself in this vicinity for some time to come, unless +as the inmate of a jail, for I have ordered a warrant to be issued +against him. The whole affair has resulted evidently from some +unaccountable antipathy which the fellow entertains against us."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," replied Harold, "but still I think this is an +unpropitious time for the prolongation of my visit. There are events, I +fear, breeding for the immediate future, in which I must take a part. I +shall only remain with you a few days, that I may be assured of Arthur's +safety."</p> + +<p>"I will not disguise from you my impression that Virginia will withdraw +from the Union. In that case, we will be nominal enemies. God grant that +our paths may not cross each other."</p> + +<p>"Amen!" replied Harold, with much feeling. "But I do not understand why +we should be enemies. You surely will not lend your voice to this +rebellion?"</p> + +<p>"When the question of secession is before the people of my State, I +shall cast my vote as my judgment and conscience shall dictate. +Meanwhile I shall examine the issue, and, I trust, dispassionately. But +whatever may become of my individual opinion, where Virginia goes I go, +whatever be the event."</p> + +<p>"Would you uphold a wrong in the face of your own conscience?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, I do not hold it a question between right and wrong, +but simply of advisability. The right of secession I entertain no doubt +about."</p> + +<p>"No doubt as to the right of dismembering and destroying a government +which has fostered your infancy, developed your strength, and made you +one among the parts of a nation that has no peer in a world's history? +Is it possible that intellect and honesty can harbor such a doctrine!"</p> + +<p>"My dear Harold, you look at the subject as an enthusiast, and you allow +your heart not to assist but to control your brain. Men, by association, +become attached to forms and symbols, so as in time to believe that upon +their existence depends the substance of which they are but the signs. +Forty years ago, in the Hawaiian Islands, the death-penalty was +inflicted upon a native of the inferior caste, should he chance to pass +over the shadow of one of noble birth. So would you avenge an insult to +a shadow, while you allow the substance to be stolen from your grasp. +Our jewel, as freemen, is the right of self-government; the form of +government is a mere convenience—a machine, which may be dismembered, +destroyed, remodelled a thousand times, without detriment to the great +principle of which it is the outward sign."</p> + +<p>"You draw a picture of anarchy that would disgrace a confederation of +petty savage tribes. What miserable apology for a government would that +be whose integrity depends upon the caprice of the governed?"</p> + +<p>"It is as likely that a government should become tyrannical, as that a +people should become capricious. You have simply chosen an unfair word. +For <i>caprice</i> substitute <i>will</i>, and you have my ideal of a true +republic."</p> + +<p>"And by that ideal, one State, by its individual act, might overturn the +entire system adopted for the convenience and safety of the whole."</p> + +<p>"Not so. It does not follow that the system should be overturned because +circumscribed in limit, more than that a business firm should +necessarily be ruined by the withdrawal of a partner. Observe, Harold, +that the General Government was never a sovereignty, and came into +existence only by the consent of each and every individual State. The +States were the sovereignties, and their connection with the Union, +being the mere creature of their will, can exist only by that will."</p> + +<p>"Why, Beverly, you might as well argue that this pencil-case, which +became mine by an act of volition on your part, because you gave it me, +ceases to be mine when you reclaim it."</p> + +<p>"If I had appointed you my amanuensis, and had transferred my pencil to +you simply for the purposes of your labor in my behalf, when I choose to +dismiss you, I should expect the return of my property. The States made +no gifts to the Federal Government for the sake of giving, but only +delegated certain powers for specific purposes. They never could have +delegated the power of coercion, since no one State or number of States +possessed that power as against their sister States."</p> + +<p>"But surely, in entering into the bonds of union, they formed a +contract with each other which should be inviolable."</p> + +<p>"Then, at the worst, the seceding States are guilty of a breach of +contract with the remaining States, but not with the General Government, +with which they made no contract. They formed a union, it is true. But +of what? Of sovereignties. How can those States be sovereignties which +admit a power above them, possessing the right of coercion? To admit the +right of coercion is to deny the existence of sovereignty."</p> + +<p>"You can find nothing in the Constitution to intimate the right of +secession."</p> + +<p>"Because its framers considered the right sufficiently established by +the very nature of the confederation. The fears upon the subject that +were expressed by Patrick Henry, and other zealous supporters of State +Rights, were quieted by the assurances of the opposite party, who +ridiculed the idea that a convention, similar to that which in each +State adopted the Constitution, could not thereafter, in representation +of the popular will, withdraw such State from the confederacy. You +have, in proof of this, but to refer to the annals of the occasion."</p> + +<p>"I discard the theory as utterly inconsistent with any legislative +power. We have either a government or we have not. If we have one, it +must possess within itself the power to sustain itself. Our chief +magistrate becomes otherwise a mere puppet, and our Congress a shallow +mockery, and the shadow only of a legislative body. Our nationality +becomes a word, and nothing more. Our place among the nations becomes +vacant, and the great Republic, our pride and the world's wonder, +crumbles into fragments, and with its downfall perishes the hope of the +oppressed of every clime. I wonder, Beverly, that you can coldly argue +against the very life of your country, and not feel the parricide's +remorse! Have you no lingering affection for the glorious structure +which our fathers built for and bequeathed to us, and which you now seek +to hurl from its foundations? Have you no pride and love for the brave +old flag that has been borne in the vanguard to victory so often, that +has shrouded the lifeless form of Lawrence, that has gladdened the +heart of the American wandering in foreign climes, and has spread its +sacred folds over the head of Washington, here, on your own native +soil?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Harold, yes! I love the Union, and I love and am proud of the +brave old flag; I would die for either, and, although I reason with you +coldly, my soul yearns to them both, and my heart aches when I think +that soon, perhaps, they will no more belong to me. But I must sacrifice +even my pride and love to a stern sense of duty. So Washington did, when +he hurled his armed squadrons against the proud banner of St. George, +under which he had been trained in soldiership, and had won the laurel +of his early fame. He, too, no doubt, was not without a pang, to be +sundered from his share of Old England's glorious memories, the land of +his allegiance, the king whom he had served, the soil where the bones of +his ancestors lay at rest. It would cause me many a throb of agony to +draw my sword against the standard of the Republic—but I would do it, +Harold, if my conscience bade me, although my nearest friends, although +you, Harold—and I love you dearly—were in the foremost rank."</p> + +<p>"Where I will strive to be, should my country call upon me. But Heaven +forbid that we should meet thus, Beverly!"</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid?" he replied, with a sigh, as he pressed Harold's hand. +"But yonder comes little Phil, running like mad, to tell us, doubtless, +that breakfast is cold with waiting for us."</p> + +<p>They retraced their steps, and found Miss Randolph and Oriana awaiting +their presence at the breakfast-table.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>During the four succeeding days, the house hold at Riverside manor were +much alarmed for Arthur's safety, for a violent fever had ensued, and, +to judge from the physician's evasive answers, the event was doubtful. +The family were unremitting in their attentions, and Oriana, quietly, +but with her characteristic self-will, insisted upon fulfilling her +share of the duties of a nurse. And no hand more gently smoothed the +sick man's pillow or administered more tenderly the cooling draught. It +seemed that Arthur's sleep was calmer when her form was bending over +him, and even when his thoughts were wandering and his eyes were +restless with delirium, they turned to welcome her as she took her +accustomed seat. Once, while she watched there alone in the twilight, +the open book unheeded in her hand, and her subdued eyes bent +thoughtfully upon his face as he slept unconscious of her presence, she +saw the white lips move and heard the murmur of the low, musical voice. +Her fair head was bent to catch the words—they were the words of +delirium or of dreams, but they brought a blush to her cheek. And yet +she bent her head still lower and listened, until her forehead rested on +the pillow, and when she looked up again with a sigh, and fixed her eyes +mechanically on the page before her, there was a trace of tears upon the +drooping lashes.</p> + +<p>He awoke from a refreshing slumber and it seemed that the fever was +gone; for his glance was calm and clear, and the old smile was upon his +lips. When he beheld Oriana, a slight flush passed over his cheek.</p> + +<p>"Are you indeed there, Miss Weems," he said, "or do I still dream? I +have been dreaming, I know not what, but I was very happy." He sighed, +and closed his eyes, as if he longed to woo back the vision which had +fled. She seemed to know what he had been dreaming, for while his cheek +paled again, hers glowed like an autumn cloud at sunset.</p> + +<p>"I trust you are much better, Mr. Wayne?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, much better. I fear I have been very troublesome to you all. +You have been very kind to me."</p> + +<p>"Do not speak so, Mr. Wayne," she replied, and a tear glistened in her +eyes. "If you knew how grateful we all are to you! You have suffered +terribly for my sake, Mr. Wayne. You have a brave, pure heart, and I +could hate myself with thinking that I once dared to wrong and to insult +it."</p> + +<p>"In my turn, I say do not speak so. I pray you, let there be no thoughts +between us that make you unhappy. What you accuse yourself of, I have +forgotten, or remember only as a passing cloud that lingered for a +moment on a pure and lovely sky. There must be no self-reproaches +between us twain, Miss Weems, for we must become strangers to each other +in this world, and when we part I would not leave with you one bitter +recollection."</p> + +<p>There was sorrow in his tone, and the young girl paused awhile and gazed +through the lattice earnestly into the gathering gloom of evening.</p> + +<p>"We must not be strangers, Mr. Wayne."</p> + +<p>"Alas! yes, for to be otherwise were fatal, at least to me."</p> + +<p>She did not answer, and both remained silent and thoughtful, so long, +indeed, that the night shadows obscured the room. Oriana arose and lit +the lamp.</p> + +<p>"I must go and prepare some supper for you," she said, in a lighter +tone.</p> + +<p>He took her hand as she stood at his bed-side and spoke in a low but +earnest voice:</p> + +<p>"You must forget what I have said to you, Miss Weems. I am weak and +feverish, and my brain has been wandering among misty dreams. If I have +spoken indiscreetly, you will forgive me, will you not?"</p> + +<p>"It is I that am to be forgiven, for allowing my patient to talk when +the doctor prescribes silence. I am going to get your supper, for I am +sure you must be hungry; so, good bye," she added gaily, as she smoothed +the pillow, and glided from the room. Oriana was silent and reserved for +some days after this, and Harold seemed also to be disturbed and ill at +ease. Some link appeared to be broken between them, for she did not look +into his eyes with the same frank, trusting gaze that had so often +returned his glance of tenderness, and sometimes even she looked +furtively away with heightened color, when, with some gentle +commonplace, his voice broke in upon her meditation. Arthur was now able +to sit for some hours daily in his easy-chair, and Oriana often came to +him at such times, and although they conversed but rarely, and upon +indifferent themes, she was never weary of reading to him, at his +request, some favorite book. And sometimes, as the author's sentiment +found an echo in her heart, she would pause and gaze listlessly at the +willow branches that waved before the casement, and both would remain +silent and pensive, till some member of the family entered, and broke in +upon their revery.</p> + +<p>"Come, Oriana," said Harold, one afternoon, "let us walk to the top of +yonder hillock, and look at this glorious sunset."</p> + +<p>She went for her bonnet and shawl, and joined him. They had reached the +summit of the hill before either of them broke silence, and then Oriana +mechanically made some commonplace remark about the beauty of the +western sky. He replied with a monosyllable, and sat down upon a +moss-covered rock. She plucked a few wild-flowers, and toyed with them.</p> + +<p>"Oriana, Arthur is much better now."</p> + +<p>"Much better, Harold."</p> + +<p>"I have no fears for his safety now. I think I shall go to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Go, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to New York. The President has appealed to the States for troops. +I am no soldier, but I cannot remain idle while my fellow citizens are +rallying to arms."</p> + +<p>"Will you fight, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"If needs be."</p> + +<p>"Against your countrymen?"</p> + +<p>"Against traitors."</p> + +<p>"Against me, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid that the blood of any of your kin should be upon my +hands. I know how much you have suffered, dearest, with the thought that +this unhappy business may separate us for a time. Think you that the eye +of affection could fail to notice your dejection and reflective mood for +some days past?"</p> + +<p>Her face grew crimson, and she tore nervously the petals of the flower +in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Oriana, you are my betrothed, and no earthly discords should sever our +destinies or estrange our hearts. Why should we part at all. Be mine at +once, Oriana, and go with me to the loyal North, for none may tell how +soon a barrier may be set between your home and me."</p> + +<p>"That would be treason to my kindred and the home of my birth."</p> + +<p>"And to be severed from me—would it not be treason to your heart?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer.</p> + +<p>"I have spoken to Beverly about it, and he will not seek to control you. +We are most unhappy, Oriana, in our national troubles; why should we be +so in our domestic ties. We can be blest, even among the rude alarms of +war. This strife will soon be over, and you shall see the old homestead +once again. But while the dark cloud lowers, I call upon you, in the +name of your pledged affection, to share my fortunes with me, and bless +me with this dear hand."</p> + +<p>That hand remained passively within his own, but her bosom swelled with +emotion, and presently the large tears rolled upon her cheek. He would +have pressed her to his bosom, but she gently turned from him, and +sinking upon the sward, sobbed through her clasped fingers.</p> + +<p>"Why are you thus unhappy, dear Oriana?" he murmured, as he bent +tenderly above her. "Surely you do not love me less because of this +poison of rebellion that infects the land. And with love, woman's best +consolation, to be your comforter, why should you be unhappy?"</p> + +<p>She arose, pale and excited, and raised his hand to her lips. The act +seemed to him a strange one for an affianced bride, and he gazed upon +her with a troubled air.</p> + +<p>"Let us go home, Harold."</p> + +<p>"But tell me that you love me."</p> + +<p>She placed her two hands lightly about his neck, and looked up +mournfully but steadily into his face.</p> + +<p>"I will be your true wife, Harold, and pray heaven I may love you as you +deserve to be loved. But I am not well to-day, Harold. Let us speak no +more of this now, for there is something at my heart that must be +quieted with penitence and prayer. Oh, do not question me, Harold," she +added, as she leaned her cheek upon his breast; "we will talk with +Beverly, and to-morrow I shall be stronger and less foolish. Come, +Harold, let us go home."</p> + +<p>She placed her arm within his, and they walked silently homeward. When +they reached the house, Oriana was hastening to her chamber, but she +lingered at the threshold, and returned to Harold.</p> + +<p>"I am not well to-night, and shall not come down to tea. Good night, +Harold. Smile upon me as you were wont to do," she added, as she pressed +his hand and raised her swollen eyes, beneath whose white lids were +crushed two teardrops that were striving to burst forth. "Give me the +smile of the old time, and the old kiss, Harold," and she raised her +forehead to receive it. "Do not look disturbed; I have but a headache, +and shall be well to-morrow. Good night—dear—Harold."</p> + +<p>She strove to look pleasantly as she left the room, but Harold was +bewildered and anxious, and, till the summons came for supper, he paced +the veranda with slow and meditative steps.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX"></a><h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The following morning was warm and springlike, and Arthur was +sufficiently strong and well to walk out a little in the open air. He +had been seated upon the veranda conversing with Beverly and Harold, +when the latter proposed a stroll with Beverly, with whom he wished to +converse in relation to his proposed marriage. As the beams of the +unclouded sun had already chased away the morning dew, and the air was +warm and balmy, Arthur walked out into the garden and breathed the +freshness of the atmosphere with the exhilaration of a convalescent +freed for the first time from the sick-room. Accidentally, or by +instinct, he turned his steps to the little grove which he knew was +Oriana's favorite haunt; and there, indeed, she sat, upon the rustic +bench, above which the drooping limbs of the willow formed a leafy +canopy. The pensive girl, her white hand, on which she leaned, buried +among the raven tresses, was gazing fixedly into the depths of the +clear sky, as if she sought to penetrate that azure veil, and find some +hope realized among the mysteries of the space beyond. The neglected +volume had fallen from her lap, and lay among the bluebells at her feet. +Arthur's feeble steps were unheard upon the sward, and he had taken his +seat beside her, before, conscious of an intruder, she started from her +dream.</p> + +<p>"The first pilgrimage of my convalescence is to your bower, my gentle +nurse. I have come to thank you for more kindness than I can ever repay, +except with grateful thoughts."</p> + +<p>She had risen when she became aware of his presence; and when she +resumed her seat, it seemed with hesitation, and almost an effort, as if +two impulses were struggling within her. But her pleasure to see him +abroad again was too hearty to be checked, and she timidly gave him the +hand which his extended palm invited to a friendly grasp.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, Mr. Wayne, I am very glad to see you so far recovered."</p> + +<p>"To your kind offices chiefly I owe it, and those of my good friends, +your brother and Harold, and our excellent Miss Randolph. My sick-room +has been the test of so much friendship, that I could almost be sinful +enough to regret the returning health which makes me no longer a +dependent on your care. But you are pale, Miss Weems. Or is it that my +eyes are unused to this broad daylight? Indeed, I trust you are not +ill?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I am quite well," she answered; but it was with an involuntary +sigh that was in contrast with the words. "But you are not strong yet, +Mr. Wayne, and I must not let you linger too long in the fresh morning +air. We had best go in under shelter of the veranda."</p> + +<p>She arose, and would have led the way, but he detained her gently with a +light touch upon her sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Stay one moment, I pray you. I seem to breathe new life with this pure +air, and the perfume of these bowers awakens within me an inexpressible +and calm delight. I shall be all the better for one tranquil hour with +nature in bloom, if you, like the guardian nymph of these floral +treasures, will sit beside me."</p> + +<p>He drew her gently back into the seat, and looked long and earnestly +upon her face. She felt his gaze, but dared not return it, and her fair +head drooped like a flower that bends beneath the glance of a scorching +sun.</p> + +<p>"Miss Weems," he said at last, but his voice was so low and tremulous +that it scarce rose above the rustle of the swinging willow boughs, "you +are soon to be a bride, and in your path the kind Destinies will shower +blessings. When they wreathe the orange blossoms in your hair, and you +are led to the altar by the hand to which you must cling for life, if I +should not be there to wish you joy, you will not deem, will you, that I +am less your friend?"</p> + +<p>The fair head drooping yet lower was her only answer.</p> + +<p>"And when you shall be the mistress of a home where Content will be +shrined, the companion of your virtues, and over your threshold many +friends shall be welcomed, if I should never sit beside your +hearthstone, you will not, will you, believe that I have forgotten, or +that I could forget?"</p> + +<p>Still lower the fair head drooped, but she answered only with a falling +tear.</p> + +<p>"I told you the other day that we should be strangers through life, and +why, I must not tell, although perhaps your woman's heart may whisper, +and yet not condemn me for that which, Heaven knows, I have struggled +against—alas, in vain! Do not turn from me. I would not breathe a word +to you that in all honor you should not hear, although my heart seems +bursting with its longing, and I would yield my soul with rapture from +its frail casket, for but one moment's right to give its secret wings. I +will bid you farewell to-morrow"—</p> + +<p>"To-morrow!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the doctor says that the sea air will do me good, and an occasion +offers to-morrow which I shall embrace. It will be like setting forth +upon a journey through endless solitudes, where my only companions will +be a memory and a sorrow."</p> + +<p>He paused a while, but continued with an effort at composure.</p> + +<p>"Our hearts are tyrants to us, Miss Weems, and will not, sometimes, be +tutored into silence. I see that I have moved, but I trust not offended +you."</p> + +<p>"You have not offended," she murmured, but in so low a tone that perhaps +the words were lost in the faint moan of the swaying foliage.</p> + +<p>"What I have said," he continued earnestly, and taking her hand with a +gentle but respectful pressure, "has been spoken as one who is dying +speaks with his fleeting breath; for evermore my lips shall be shackled +against my heart, and the past shall be sealed and avoided as a +forbidden theme. We are, then, good friends at parting, are we not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And, believe me, I shall be happiest when I think that you are +happy—for you will be happy."</p> + +<p>She sighed so deeply that the words were checked upon his lips, as if +some new emotion had turned the current of his thought.</p> + +<p>"Are you <i>not</i> happy?"</p> + +<p>The tears that, in spite of her endeavor, burst from beneath the +downcast lids, answered him as words could not have done. He was +agitated and unnerved, and, leaning his brow against his hand, remained +silent while she wept.</p> + +<p>"Harold is a noble fellow," he said at last, after a long silence, and +when she had grown calmer, "and deserves to be loved as I am sure you +love him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has a noble heart, and I would die rather than cause him pain."</p> + +<p>"And you love him?"</p> + +<p>"I thought I loved him."</p> + +<p>The words were faint—hardly more than a breath upon her lips; but he +heard them, and his heart grew big with an undefined awe, as if some +vague danger were looming among the shadows of his destiny. Oriana +turned to him suddenly, and clasped his hand within her trembling +fingers.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wayne! you must go, and never see me more. I am standing on the +brink of an abyss, and my heart bids me leap. I see the danger, and, oh +God! I have prayed for power to shun it. But Arthur, Arthur, if you do +not help me, I am lost. You are a man, an honest man, an honorable man, +who will not wrong your friend, or tempt the woman that cannot love you +without sin. Oh, save me from myself—from you—from the cruel wrong +that I could even dream of against him to whom I have sworn my woman's +faith. I am a child in your hands, Arthur, and in the face of the +reproaching Providence above me, I feel—I feel that I am at your mercy. +I feel that what you speak I must listen to; that should you bid me +stand beside you at the altar, I should not have courage to refuse. I +feel, oh God! Arthur, that I love you, and am betrothed to Harold. But +you are strong—you have courage, will, the power to defy such weakness +of the heart—and you will save me, for I know you are a good and honest +man."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, with her face upturned to him, and the hot tears rolling +down her cheeks, her fingers convulsively clasped about his hand, and +her form bending closer and closer toward him, till her cheek was +resting on his bosom, Arthur shuddered with intensity of feeling, and +from his averted eyes the scalding drops, that had never once before +moistened their surface, betrayed how terribly he was shaken with +emotion.</p> + +<p>But while she spoke, rapt as they were within themselves, they saw not +one who stood with folded arms beside the rustic bench, and gazed upon +them.</p> + +<p>"As God is my hope," said Arthur, "I will disarm temptation. Fear not. +From this hour we part. Henceforth the living and the dead shall not be +more estranged than we."</p> + +<p>He arose, but started as if an apparition met his gaze. Oriana knelt +beside him, and touched her lips to his hand in gratitude. An arm raised +her tenderly, and a gentle voice murmured her name.</p> + +<p>It was not Arthur's.</p> + +<p>Oriana raised her head, with a faint cry of terror. She gasped and +swooned upon the intruder's breast.</p> + +<p>It was Harold Hare who held her in his arms.</p> + +<p>Arthur, with folded arms, stood erect, but pale, in the presence of his +friend. His eye, sorrowful, yet calm, was fixed upon Harold, as if +awaiting his angry glance. But Harold looked only on the lifeless form +he held, and parting the tresses from her cold brow, his lips rested +there a moment with such a fond caress as sometimes a father gives his +child.</p> + +<p>"Poor girl!" he murmured, "would that my sorrow could avail for both. +Arthur, I have heard enough to know you would not do me wrong. Grief is +in store for us, but let us not be enemies."</p> + +<p>Mournfully, he gave his hand to Arthur, and Oriana, as she wakened from +her trance, beheld them locked in that sad grasp, like two twin statues +of despair.</p> + +<p>They led her to the house, and then the two young men walked out alone, +and talked frankly and tranquilly upon the subject. It was determined +that both should leave Riverside manor on the morrow, and that Oriana +should be left to commune with her own heart, and take counsel of time +and meditation. They would not grieve Beverly with their secret, at +least not for the present, when his sister was so ill prepared to bear +remonstrance or reproof. Harold wrote a kind letter for Oriana, in which +he released her from her pledged faith, asking only that she should take +time to study her heart, but in no wise let a sense of duty stand in the +way of her happiness. He took pains to conceal the depth of his own +affliction, and to avoid whatever she might construe as reproach.</p> + +<p>They would have gone without an interview with Oriana, but that would +have seemed strange to Beverly. However, Oriana, although pale and +nervous, met them in the morning with more composure than they had +anticipated. Harold, just before starting, drew her aside, and placed +the letter in her hand.</p> + +<p>"That will tell you all I would say, and you must read it when your +heart is strong and firm. Do not look so wretched. All may yet be well. +I would fain see you smile before I go."</p> + +<p>But though she had evidently nerved herself to be composed, the tears +would come, and her heart seemed rising to her throat and about to burst +in sobs.</p> + +<p>"I will be your true wife, Harold, and I will love you. Do not desert +me, do not cast me from you. I cannot bear to be so guilty. Indeed, +Harold, I will be true and faithful to you."</p> + +<p>"There is no guilt in that young heart," he answered, as he kissed her +forehead. "But now, we must not talk of love; hereafter, perhaps, when +time and absence shall teach us where to choose for happiness. Part from +me now as if I were your brother, and give me a sister's kiss. Would you +see Arthur?"</p> + +<p>She trembled and whispered painfully:</p> + +<p>"No, Harold, no—I dare not. Oh, Harold, bid him forget me."</p> + +<p>"It is better that you should not see him. Farewell! be brave. We are +good friends, remember. Farewell, dear girl."</p> + +<p>Beverly had been waiting with the carriage, and as the time was short, +he called to Harold. Arthur, who stood at the carriage wheel, simply +raised his hat to Oriana, as if in a parting salute. He would have given +his right hand to have pressed hers for a moment; but his will was iron, +and he did not once look back as the carriage whirled away.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_X"></a><h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>In the drawing-room of an elegant mansion in a fashionable quarter of +the city of New York, toward the close of April, a social party were +assembled, distributed mostly in small conversational groups. The head +of the establishment, a pompous, well-to-do merchant, stout, short, and +baldheaded, and evidently well satisfied with himself and his position +in society, was vehemently expressing his opinions upon the affairs of +the nation to an attentive audience of two or three elderly business +men, with a ponderous earnestness that proved him, in his own +estimation, as much <i>au fait</i> in political affairs as in the routine of +his counting-room. An individual of middle age, a man of the world, +apparently, who was seated at a side-table, carelessly glancing over a +book of engravings, was the only one who occasionally exasperated the +pompous gentleman with contradictions or ill-timed interruptions.</p> + +<p>"The government must be sustained," said the stout gentleman, "and we, +the merchants of the North, will do it. It is money, sir, money," he +continued, unconsciously rattling the coin in his breeches pocket, "that +settles every question at the present day, and our money will bring +these beggarly rebels to their senses. They can't do without us, sir. +They would be ruined in six months, if shut out from commercial +intercourse with the North."</p> + +<p>"How long before you would be ruined by the operations of the same +cause?" inquired the individual at the side-table.</p> + +<p>"Sir, we of the North hold the wealth of the country in our pockets. +They can't fight against our money—they can't do it, sir."</p> + +<p>"Your ancestors fought against money, and fought passably well."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, for the great principles of human liberty."</p> + +<p>"Which these rebels believe they are fighting for. You have need of all +your money to keep a respectable army in the field. These Southerners +may have to fight in rags, as insurgents generally do: witness the +struggle of your Revolution; but until you lay waste their corn-fields +and drive off their cattle, they will have full stomachs, and that, +after all, is the first consideration."</p> + +<p>"You are an alien, sir, a foreigner; you know nothing of our great +institutions; you know nothing of the wealth of the North, and the +spirit of the people."</p> + +<p>"I see a great deal of bunting in the streets, and hear any quantity of +declamation at your popular gatherings. But as I journeyed northward +from New Orleans, I saw the same in the South—perhaps more of it."</p> + +<p>"And could not distinguish between the frenzy of treason and the +enthusiasm of patriotism?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all; except that treason seemed more earnest and unanimous."</p> + +<p>"You have seen with the eyes of an Englishman—of one hostile to our +institutions."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; as a man of the world, a traveller, without prejudice or +passion, receiving impressions and noting them. I like your country; I +like your people. I have observed foibles in the North and in the South, +but there is an under-current of strong feeling and good sense which I +have noted and admired. I think your quarrel is one of foibles—one +conceived in the spirit of petulance, and about to be prosecuted in the +spirit of exaltation. I believe the professed mutual hatred of the +sections to be superficial, and that it could be cancelled. It is +fostered by the bitterness of fanatics, assisted by a very natural +disinclination on the part of the masses to yield a disputed point. If +hostilities should cease to-morrow, you would be better friends than +ever."</p> + +<p>"But the principle, sir! The right of the thing, and the wrong of the +thing! Can we parley with traitors? Can we negotiate with armed +rebellion? Is it not our paramount duty to set at rest forever the +doctrine of secession?"</p> + +<p>"As a matter of policy, perhaps. But as a right, I doubt it. Your +government I look upon as a mere agency appointed by contracting parties +to transact certain affairs for their convenience. Should one or more of +those contracting parties, sovereignties in themselves, hold it to their +interest to transact their business without the assistance of an agent, +I cannot perceive that the right can be denied by any provision of the +contract. In your case, the employers have dismissed their agent, who +seeks to reinstate the office by force of arms. As justly might my +lawyer, when I no longer need his services, attempt to coerce me into a +continuance of business relations, by invading my residence with a +loaded pistol. The States, without extinguishing their sovereignty, +created the Federal Government; it is the child of State legislation, +and now the child seeks to chastise and control the parent. The General +Government can possess no inherent or self-created function; its power, +its very existence, were granted for certain uses. As regards your +State's connection with that Government, no other State has the right to +interfere; but as for another State's connection with it, the power that +made it can unmake."</p> + +<p>"So you would have the government quietly acquiesce in the robbery of +public property, the occupation of Federal strongholds and the seizure +of ships and revenues in which they have but a share?"</p> + +<p>"If, by the necessity of the case, the seceded States hold in their +possession more than their share of public property, a division should +be made by arbitration, as in other cases where a distribution of common +property is required. It may have been a wrong and an insult to bombard +Fort Sumter and haul down the Federal flag, but that does not establish +a right on the part of the Federal Government to coerce the wrong-doing +States into a union with the others. And that, I take it, is the avowed +purpose of your administration."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and that purpose will be fulfilled. We have the money to do it, +and we will do it, sir."</p> + +<p>A tall, thin gentleman, with a white cravat and a bilious complexion, +approached the party from a different part of the room.</p> + +<p>"It can't be done with money, Mr. Pursely," said the new comer, "Unless +the great, the divine principle of universal human liberty is invoked. +An offended but merciful Providence has given the people this chance for +redemption, in the opportunity to strike the shackle from the slave. I +hold the war a blessing to the nation and to humanity, in that it will +cleanse the land from its curse of slavery. It is an invitation from God +to wipe away the record of our past tardiness and tolerance, by striking +at the great sin with fire and sword. The blood of millions is +nothing—the woe, the lamentation, the ruin of the land is nothing—the +overthrow of the Union itself is nothing, if we can but win God's smile +by setting a brand in the hand of the bondman to scourge his master. But +assuredly unless we arouse the slave to seize the torch and the dagger, +and avenge the wrongs of his race, Providence will frown upon our +efforts, and our arms will not prevail."</p> + +<p>A tall man in military undress replied with considerable emphasis:</p> + +<p>"Then your black-coated gentry must fight their own battle. The people +will not arm if abolition is to be the watchword. I for one will not +strike a blow if it be not understood that the institutions of the South +shall be respected."</p> + +<p>"The government must be sustained, that is the point," cried Mr. +Pursely. "It matters little what becomes of the negro, but the +government must be sustained. Otherwise, what security will there be +for property, and what will become of trade?"</p> + +<p>"Who thinks of trade or property at such a crisis?" interrupted an +enthusiast, in figured trowsers and a gay cravat. "Our beloved Union +must and shall be preserved. The fabric that our fathers reared for us +must not be allowed to crumble. We will prop it with our mangled +bodies," and he brushed a speck of dust from the fine broadcloth of his +sleeve.</p> + +<p>"The insult to our flag must be wiped out," said the military gentleman. +"The honor of the glorious stripes and stars must be vindicated to the +world."</p> + +<p>"Let us chastise these boasting Southrons," said another, "and prove our +supremacy in arms, and I shall be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"But above all," insisted a third, "we must check the sneers and +exultation of European powers, and show them that we have not forgotten +the art of war since the days of 1776 and 1812."</p> + +<p>"I should like to know what you are going to fight about," said the +Englishman, quietly; "for there appears to be much diversity of +opinion. However, if you are determined to cut each others' throats, +perhaps one pretext is as good as another, and a dozen better than only +one."</p> + +<p>In the quiet recess of a window, shadowed by the crimson curtains, sat a +fair young girl, and a man, young and handsome, but upon whose +countenance the traces of dissipation and of passion were deeply marked. +Miranda Ayleff was a Virginian, the cousin and quondam playmate of +Oriana Weems, like her an orphan, and a ward of Beverly. Her companion +was Philip Searle. She had known him in Richmond, and had become much +attached to him, but his habits and character were such, that her +friends, and Beverly chiefly, had earnestly discouraged their intimacy. +Philip left for the North, and Miranda, who at the date of our story was +the guest of Mrs. Pursely, her relative, met him in New York, after a +separation of two years. Philip, who, in spite of his evil ways, was +singularly handsome and agreeable in manners, found little difficulty in +fanning the old flame, and, upon the plea of old acquaintance, became a +frequent visitor upon Miranda at Mr. Pursely's mansion, where we now +find them, earnestly conversing, but in low tones, in the little +solitude of the great bay window.</p> + +<p>"You reproach me with vices which your unkindness has helped to stain me +with. Driven from your presence, whom alone I cared to live for, what +marvel if I sought oblivion in the wine-cup and the dice-box? Give me +one chance, Miranda, to redeem myself. Let me call you wife, and you +will become my guardian angel, and save me from myself."</p> + +<p>"You know that I love you, Philip," she replied, "and willingly would I +share your destiny, hoping to win you from evil. Go with me to Richmond. +We will speak with Beverly, who is kind and truly loves me. We will +convince him of your good purposes, and will win his consent to our +union."</p> + +<p>"No, Miranda; Beverly and your friends in Richmond will never believe me +worthy of you. Besides, it would be dangerous for me to visit Richmond. +I have identified myself with the Northern cause, and although, for your +sake, I might refrain from bearing arms against Virginia, yet I have +little sympathy with any there, where I have been branded as a drunkard +and a gambler."</p> + +<p>"Yet, Philip, is it not the land of your birth—the home of your +boyhood?"</p> + +<p>"The land of my shame and humiliation. No Miranda, I will not return to +Virginia. And if you love me, you will not return. What are these +senseless quarrels to us? We can be happy in each other's love, and +forget that madmen are at war around us. Why will you not trust me, +Miranda—why do you thus withhold from me my only hope of redemption +from the terrible vice that is killing me? I put my destiny, my very +life in your keeping, and you hesitate to accept the trust that alone +can save me. Oh, Miranda! you do not love me."</p> + +<p>"Philip, I cannot renounce my friends, my dear country, the home of my +childhood."</p> + +<p>"Then look you what will be my fate: I will join the armies of the +North, and fling away my life in battle against my native soil. Ruin and +death cannot come too soon when you forsake me."</p> + +<p>Miranda remained silent, but, through the gloom of the recess, he could +see the glistening of a tear upon her cheek.</p> + +<p>The hall-bell rang, and the servant brought in a card for Miss Ayleff. +Following it, Arthur Wayne was ushered into the room.</p> + +<p>She rose to receive him, somewhat surprised at a visit from a stranger.</p> + +<p>"I have brought these letters for you from my good friend Beverly +Weems," said Arthur. "At his request, I have ventured to call in person, +most happy, if you will forgive the presumption, in the opportunity."</p> + +<p>She gave her hand, and welcomed him gracefully and warmly, and, having +introduced Mr. Searle, excused herself while she glanced at the contents +of Beverly's letter. While thus employed, Arthur marked her changing +color; and then, lifting his eyes lest his scrutiny might be rude, +observed Philip's dark eye fixed upon her with a suspicious and +searching expression. Then Philip looked up, and their glances met—the +calm blue eye and the flashing black—but for an instant, but long +enough to confirm the instinctive feeling that there was no sympathy +between their hearts.</p> + +<p>A half-hour's general conversation ensued, but Philip appeared restless +and uneasy, and rose to take his leave. She followed him to the parlor +door.</p> + +<p>"Come to me to-morrow," she said, as she gave her hand, "and we will +talk again."</p> + +<p>A smile of triumph rested upon his pale lips for a second; but he +pressed her hand, and, murmuring an affectionate farewell, withdrew.</p> + +<p>Arthur remained a few moments, but observing that Miranda was pensive +and absent, he bade her good evening, accepting her urgent invitation to +call at an early period.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Well, Arthur," said Harold Hare, entering the room of the former at his +hotel, on the following evening, "I have come to bid you good bye. I +start for home to-morrow morning," he added, in reply to Arthur's +questioning glance. "I am to have a company of Providence boys in my old +friend Colonel R——'s regiment. And after a little brisk recruiting, +ho! for Washington and the wars!"</p> + +<p>"You have determined for the war, then?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. And you?"</p> + +<p>"I shall go to my Vermont farm, and live quietly among my books and +pastures."</p> + +<p>"A dull life, Arthur, when every wind that blows will bring to your ears +the swell of martial music and the din of arms."</p> + +<p>"If I were in love with the pomp of war, which, thank heaven, I am not, +Harold, I would rather dwell in a hermit's cave, than follow the fife +and drum over the bodies of my Southern countrymen."</p> + +<p>"Those Southern countrymen, that you seem to love better than the +country they would ruin, would have little remorse in marching over your +body, even among the ashes of your farm-house. Doubtless you would stand +at your threshold, and welcome their butchery, should their ruffian +legions ravage our land as far as your Green Mountains."</p> + +<p>"I do not think they will invade one foot of Northern soil, unless +compelled by strict military necessity. However, should the State to +which I owe allegiance be attacked by foreign or domestic foe, I will +stand among its defenders. But, dear Harold, let us not argue this sad +subject, which it is grief enough but to contemplate. Tell me of your +plans, and how I shall communicate with you, while you are absent. My +distress about this unhappy war will be keener, when I feel that my dear +friend may be its victim."</p> + +<p>Harold pressed his hand affectionately, and the two friends spoke of the +misty future, till Harold arose to depart. They had not mentioned +Oriana's name, though she was in their thoughts, and each, as he bade +farewell, knew that some part of the other's sadness was for her sake.</p> + +<p>Arthur accompanied Harold a short distance up Broadway, and returning, +found at the office of the hotel, a letter, without post-mark, to his +address. He stepped into the reading-room to peruse it. It was from +Beverly, and ran thus:</p> + +<div class="blkquot"><p>"RICHMOND, <i>May</i> —, 1861. + +<p> "DEAR ARTHUR: The departure of a friend gives me an opportunity to + write you about a matter that I beg you will attend to, for my sake, + thoroughly. I learned this morning, upon receipt of a letter from + Mr. Pursely, that Miranda Ayleff, of whom we spoke together, and to + whom I presume you have already delivered my communication, is + receiving the visits of one Philip Searle, to whom, some two years + since, she was much attached. <i>Entre nous</i>, Arthur, I can tell you, + the man is a scoundrel of the deepest dye. Not only a drunkard and a + gambler, but dishonest, and unfit for any decent girl's society. He + is guilty of forgery against me, and, against my conscience, I + hushed the matter only out of consideration for her feelings. I + would still have concealed the matter from her, had this resumption + of their intimacy not occurred. But her welfare must cancel all + scruples of that character; and I therefore entreat you to see her + at once, and unmask the man fully and unequivocally. If necessary + you may show my letter for that purpose. I would go on to New York + myself immediately, were I not employed upon a State mission of + exceeding delicacy and importance; but I have full confidence in + your good judgment. Spare no arguments to induce her to return + immediately to Richmond.</p> + +<p> "Oriana has not been well; I know not what ails her, but, though she + makes no complaint, the girl seems really ill. She knows not of my + writing, for I would not pain her about Miranda, of whom she is very + fond. But I can venture, without consulting her, to send you her + good wishes. Let me hear from you in full about what I have written. + Your friend.</p> + +<p> "BEVERLY WEEMS."</p> + +<p> "P.S.—Knowing that you must yet be weak with your late illness, I + would have troubled Harold, rather than you, about this matter, but + I am ignorant of his present whereabouts, while I know that you + contemplated remaining a week or so in New York. Write me about the + ugly bite in the shoulder, from which I trust you are well + recovered. B.W."</p></div> + +<p>Arthur looked up from the letter, and beheld Philip Searle seated at the +opposite side of the table. He had entered while Arthur's attention was +absorbed in reading, and having glanced at the address of the envelope +which lay upon the table, he recognized the hand of Beverly. This +prompted him to pause, and taking up one of the newspapers which were +strewn about the table, he sat down, and while he appeared to read, +glanced furtively at his <i>vis-à-vis</i> over the paper's edge. When his +presence was noticed, he bowed, and Arthur, with a slight and stern +inclination of the head, fixed his calm eye upon him with a searching +severity that brought a flush of anger to Philip's brow.</p> + +<p>"That is Weems' hand," he muttered, inwardly, "and by that fellow's +look, I fancy that no less a person than myself is the subject of his +epistle."</p> + +<p>Arthur had walked away, but, in his surprise at the unexpected presence +of Searle, he had allowed the letter to remain upon the table. No sooner +had he passed out of the room, than Philip quietly but rapidly stretched +his hand beneath the pile of scattered journals, and drew it toward him. +It required but an instant for his quick eye to catch the substance. His +face grew livid, and his teeth grated harshly with suppressed rage.</p> + +<p>"We shall have a game of plot and counterplot before this ends, my +man," he muttered.</p> + +<p>There were pen and paper on the table, and he wrote a few lines hastily, +placed them in the envelope, and put Beverly's letter in his pocket. He +had hardly finished when Arthur reëntered the room, advanced rapidly to +the table, and, with a look of relief, took up the envelope and its +contents, and again left the room. Philip's lip curled beneath the black +moustache with a smile of triumphant malice.</p> + +<p>"Keep it safe in your pocket for a few hours, my gamecock, and my +heiress to a beggar-girl, I'll have stone walls between you and me."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<p>The evening was somewhat advanced, but Arthur determined at once to seek +an interview with Miss Ayleff. Hastily arranging his toilet, he walked +briskly up Broadway, revolving in his mind a fit course for fulfilling +his delicate errand.</p> + +<p>To shorten his way, he turned into a cross street in the upper part of +the city. As he approached the hall door of a large brick house, his eye +chanced to fall upon a man who was ringing for admittance. The light +from the street lamp fell full upon his face, and he recognized the +features of Philip Searle. At that moment the door was opened, and +Philip entered. Arthur would have passed on, but something in the +appearance of the house arrested his attention, and, on closer scrutiny, +revealed to him its character. One of those impulses which sometimes +sway our actions, tempted him to enter, and learn, if possible, +something further respecting the habits of the man whose scheme he had +been commissioned to thwart. A moment's reflection might have changed +his purpose, but his hand was already upon the bell, and the summons was +quickly answered by a good-looking but faded young woman, with painted +cheeks and gay attire. She fixed her keen, bold eyes upon him for a few +seconds, and then, tossing her ringlets, pertly invited him to enter.</p> + +<p>"Who is within?" asked Arthur, standing in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Only the girls. Walk in."</p> + +<p>"The gentleman who came in before me, is he there?"</p> + +<p>"Do you want to see him?" she asked, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Only I would avoid being seen by any one."</p> + +<p>"He will not see you. Come right in." And she threw open the door, and +flaunted in.</p> + +<p>Arthur followed her without hesitation.</p> + +<p>Bursts of forced and cheerless laughter, and the shrill sound of rude +and flippant talk, smote unpleasantly upon his ear. The room was richly +furnished, but without taste or modesty. The tall mirrors were displayed +with ostentation, and the paintings, offensive in design, hung +conspicuous in showy frames. The numerous gas jets, flashing among +glittering crystal pendants, made vice more glaring and heartlessness +more terribly apparent. Women, with bold and haggard eyes, with brazen +brows, and cheeks from which the roses of virgin shame had been plucked +to bloom no more forever—mostly young girls, scourging their youth into +old age, and gathering poison at once for soul and body—with sensual +indolence reclined upon the rich ottomans, or with fantastic grace +whirled through lewd waltzes over the velvet carpets. There was laughter +without joy—there was frivolity without merriment—there was the +surface of enjoyment and the substance of woe, for beneath those painted +cheeks was the pallor of despair and broken health, and beneath those +whitened bosoms, half veiled with gaudy silks, were hearts that were +aching with remorse, or, yet more unhappy, benumbed and callous with +habitual sin.</p> + +<p>Yet there, like a crushed pearl upon a heap of garbage, lingers the +trace of beauty; and there, surely, though sepulchred in the caverns of +vice, dwells something that was once innocence, and not unredeemable. +But whence is the friendly word to come, whence the guardian hand that +might lift them from the slough. They live accursed by even charity, +shunned by philanthropy, and shut from the Christian world like a tribe +of lepers whose touch is contagion and whose breath is pestilence. In +the glittering halls of fashion, the high-born beauty, with wreaths +about her white temples and diamonds upon her chaste bosom, gives her +gloved hand for the dance, and forgets that an erring sister, by the +touch of those white fingers, might be raised from the grave of her +chastity, and clothed anew with the white garments of repentance. But +no; the cold world of fashion, that from its cushioned pew has listened +with stately devotion to the words of the Redeemer, has taught her that +to redeem the fallen is beneath her caste. The bond of sisterhood is +broken. The lost one must pursue her hideous destiny, each avenue of +escape blocked by the scorn and loathing which denies her the contact of +virtue and the counsel of purity. In the broad fields of charity, +invaded by cold philosophers, losing themselves in searching unreal and +vague philanthropies, none so practical in beneficence as to take her by +the hand, saying, "Go, and sin no more."</p> + +<p>But whenever the path of benevolence is intricate and doubtful, whenever +the work is linked with a riddle whose solving will breed discord and +trouble among men, whenever there is a chance to make philanthropy a +plea for hate, and bitterness and charity can be made a battle-cry to +arouse the spirit of destruction, and spread ruin and desolation over +the fair face of the earth, then will the domes of our churches resound +with eloquence, then will the journals of the land teem with their +mystic theories, then will the mourners of human woe be loud in +lamentation, and lift up their mighty voices to cry down an abstract +evil. When actual misery appeals to them, they are deaf; when the plain +and palpable error stalks before them, they turn aside. They are too +busy with the tangles of some philanthropic Gordian knot, to stretch out +a helping hand to the sufferer at their sides. They are frenzied with +their zeal to build a bridge over a spanless ocean, while the drowning +wretch is sinking within their grasp. They scorn the simple charity of +the good Samaritan; theirs must be a gigantic and splendid achievement +in experimental beneficence, worthy of their philosophic brains. The +wrong they would redress must be one that half the world esteems a +right; else there would be no room for their arguments, no occasion for +their invective, no excuse for their passion. To do good is too simple +for their transcendentalism; they must first make evil out of their +logic, and then, through blood and wasting flames, drive on the people +to destruction, that the imaginary evil may be destroyed. While Charity +soars so high among the clouds, she will never stoop to lift the +Magdalen from sin.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Arthur heaved an involuntary sigh, as he gazed upon those sad wrecks of +womanhood, striving to harden their sense of degradation by its impudent +display. But an expression of bewildered and sorrowful surprise suddenly +overspread his countenance. Seated alone upon a cushioned stool, at the +chimney-corner, was a young woman, her elbows resting upon her knees, +and her face bent thoughtfully upon her palms. She was apparently lost +in thought to all around her. She was thinking—of what? Perhaps of the +green fields where she played in childhood; perhaps of her days of +innocence; perhaps of the mother at whose feet she had once knelt in +prayer. But she was far away, in thought, from that scene of infamy of +which she was a part; for, in the glare of the gaslight, a tear +struggled through her eyelashes, and glittered like a ray from heaven +piercing the glooms of hell.</p> + +<p>Arthur walked to her, and placed his hand softly upon her yellow hair.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mary!" he murmured, in a tone of gentle sorrow, that sounded +strangely amid the discordant merriment that filled the room.</p> + +<p>She looked up, at his touch, but when his voice fell upon her ear, she +arose suddenly and stood before him like one struck dumb betwixt +humiliation and wonder. The angel had not yet fled that bosom, for the +blush of shame glowed through the chalk upon her brow and outcrimsoned +the paint upon her cheek. As it passed away, she would have wreathed her +lip mechanically with the pert smile of her vocation, but the smile was +frozen ere it reached her lips, and the coarse words she would have +spoken died into a murmur and a sob. She sank down again upon the +cushion, and bent her face low down upon her hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mary! is it you! is it you! I pray heaven your mother be in her +grave!"</p> + +<p>She rose and escaped quickly from the room; but he followed her and +checked her at the stairway.</p> + +<p>"Let me speak with you, Mary. No, not here; lead me to your room."</p> + +<p>He followed her up-stairs, and closing the door, sat beside her as she +leaned upon the bed and buried her face in the pillow.</p> + +<p>It was the child of his old nurse. Upon the hill-sides of his native +State they had played together when children, and now she lay there +before him, with scarce enough of woman's nature left to weep for her +own misery.</p> + +<p>"Mary, how is this? Look up, child," he said, taking her hand kindly. "I +had rather see you thus, bent low with sorrow, than bold and hard in +guilt. But yet look up and speak to me. I will be your friend, you know. +Tell me, why are you thus?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wayne, do not scold me, please don't. I was thinking of home +and mother when you came and put your hand on my head. Mother's dead."</p> + +<p>"Well for her, poor woman. But how came you thus?"</p> + +<p>"I scarcely seem to know. It seems to me a dream. I married John, and he +brought me to New York. Then the war came, and he went and was killed. +And mother was dead, and I had no friends in the great city. I could get +no work, and I was starving, indeed I was, Mr. Wayne. So a young man, +who was very handsome, and rich, I think, for he gave me money and fine +dresses, he promised me—Oh, Mr. Wayne, I was very wrong and foolish, +and I wish I could die, and be buried by my poor mother."</p> + +<p>"And did he bring you here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, sir. I came here two weeks ago, after he had left me. And when +he came in one night and found me here, he was very angry, and said he +would kill me if I told any one that I knew him. And I know why; but you +won't tell, Mr. Wayne, for it would make him angry. I have found out +that he is married to the mistress of this house. He's a bad man, I know +now, and often comes here drunk, and swears at the woman and the girls. +Hark! that's her room, next to mine, and I think he's in there now."</p> + +<p>The faint sound of voices, smothered by the walls, reached them from the +adjoining chamber; but as they listened, the door of that room opened, +and the loud and angry tones of a man, speaking at the threshold, could +be distinctly heard. Arthur quietly and carefully opened the door of +Mary's room, an inch or less, and listened at the aperture. He was not +mistaken; he recognized the voice of Philip Searle.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it, anyhow," said Philip, angrily, and with the thick utterance +of one who had been drinking. "I'll do it; and if you trouble me, I'll +fix you."</p> + +<p>"Philip, if you marry that girl I'll peach; I will, so help me G—d," +replied a woman's voice. "I've given you the money, and I've given you +plenty before, as much as I had to give you, Philip, and you know it. I +don't mind that, but you shan't marry till I'm dead. I'm your lawful +wife, and if I'm low now, it's your fault, for you drove me to it."</p> + +<p>"I'll drive you to hell if you worry me. I tell you she's got lots of +money, and a farm, and niggers, and you shall have half if you only keep +your mouth shut. Come, now, Molly, don't be a fool; what's the use, +now?"</p> + +<p>They went down the stairway together, and their voices were lost as they +descended. Arthur determined to follow and get some clue, if possible, +as to the man's, intentions. He therefore gave his address to Mary, and +made her promise faithfully to meet him on the following morning, +promising to befriend her and send her to his mother in Vermont. Hearing +the front door close, and surmising that Philip had departed, he bade +her good night, and descending hastily, was upon the sidewalk in time to +observe Philip's form in the starlight as he turned the corner.</p> + +<p>It was now ten o'clock; too late to call upon Miranda without disturbing +the household, which he desired to avoid. Arthur's present fear was that +possibly an elopement had been planned for that night, and he therefore +determined, if practicable, to keep Searle in view till he had traced +him home. The latter entered a refreshment saloon upon Broadway; Arthur +followed, and ordering, in a low tone, some dish that would require time +in the preparation, he stepped, without noise, into an alcove adjoining +one whence came the sound of conversation.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's up?" inquired a gruff, coarse voice.</p> + +<p>"Fill me some brandy," replied Philip. "I tell you, Bradshaw, it's +risky, but I'll do it. The old woman's rock. She'll blow upon me if she +gets the chance; but I'm in for it, and I'll put it through. We must +manage to keep it mum from her, and as soon as I get the girl I'll +accept the lieutenancy, and be off to the wars till all blows over. If +Moll should smoke me out there, I'll cross the line and take sanctuary +with Jeff. Davis."</p> + +<p>"What about the girl?"</p> + +<p>"Oh; she's all right," replied Philip, with a drunken chuckle. "I had an +interview with the dear creature this morning, and she's like wax in my +hands. It's all arranged for to-morrow morning. You be sure to have the +carriage ready at the Park—the same spot, you know—by ten o'clock. +She can't well get away before, but that will be time enough for the +train."</p> + +<p>"I want that money now."</p> + +<p>"Moll's hard up, but I got a couple of hundred from her. Here's fifty +for you; now don't grumble, I'm doing the best I can, d—n you, and you +know it. Now listen—I want to fix things with you about that blue-eyed +chap."</p> + +<p>The waiter here brought in Arthur's order, and a sudden silence ensued +in the alcove. The two men had evidently been unaware of the proximity +of a third party, and their tone, though low, had not been sufficiently +guarded to escape Arthur hearing, whose ear, leaning against the thin +partition, was within a few inches of Philip's head. A muttered curse +and the gurgling of liquor from a decanter was all that could be heard +for the space of a few-moments, when the two, after a brief whisper, +arose and left the place, not, however, without making ineffectual +efforts to catch a glimpse of the occupant of the tenanted alcove. +Arthur soon after followed them into the street. He was aware that he +was watched from the opposite corner, and that his steps were dogged in +the darkness. But he drew his felt hat well over his face, and by +mingling with the crowd that chanced to be pouring from one of the +theatres, he avoided recognition and passed unnoticed into his hotel.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Arthur felt ill and much fatigued when he retired to rest, and was +restless and disturbed with fever throughout the night. He had +overtasked his delicate frame, yet scarce recovered from the effects of +recent suffering, and he arose in the morning with a feeling of +prostration that he could with difficulty overcome. However, he +refreshed himself with a cup of tea, and prepared to call upon Miss +Ayleff. It was but seven o'clock, a somewhat early hour for a morning +visit, but the occasion was one for little ceremony. As he was on the +point of leaving his room, there was a peremptory knock at the door, +and, upon his invitation to walk in, a stranger entered. It was a +gentlemanly personage, with a searching eye and a calm and quiet manner. +Arthur was vexed to be delayed, but received the intruder with a civil +inclination of the head, somewhat surprised, however, that no card had +been sent to give him intimation of the visit.</p> + +<p>"Are you Mr. Arthur Wayne?" inquired the stranger.</p> + +<p>"I am he," replied Arthur. "Be seated, sir."</p> + +<p>"I thank you. My name is ——. I am a deputy United States marshal of +this district."</p> + +<p>Arthur bowed, and awaited a further statement of the purpose of his +visit.</p> + +<p>"You have lately arrived from Virginia, I understand?"</p> + +<p>"A few days since, sir—from a brief sojourn in the vicinity of +Richmond."</p> + +<p>"And yesterday received a communication from that quarter?"</p> + +<p>"I did. A letter from an intimate acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"My office will excuse me from an imputation of inquisitiveness. May I +see that letter?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, sir. Its contents are of a private and delicate nature, and +intended only for my own perusal."</p> + +<p>"It is because its contents are of that nature that I am constrained to +ask you for it. Pardon me, Mr. Wayne; but to be brief and frank you, I +must either receive that communication by your good will, or call in my +officers, and institute a search. I am sure you will not make my duty +more unpleasant than necessary."</p> + +<p>Arthur paused awhile. He was conscious that it would be impossible for +him to avoid complying with the marshal's request, and yet it was most +annoying to be obliged to make a third party cognizant of the facts +contained in Beverly's epistle.</p> + +<p>"I have no desire to oppose you in the performance of your functions," +he finally replied, "but really there are very particular reasons why +the contents of this letter should not be made public."</p> + +<p>A very faint indication of a smile passed over the marshal's serious +face; Arthur did not observe it, but continued:</p> + +<p>"I will hand you the letter, for I perceive there has been some mistake +and misapprehension which of course it is your duty to clear up. But you +must promise me that, when your perusal of it shall have satisfied you +that its nature is strictly private, and not offensive to the law, you +will return it me and preserve an inviolable secrecy as to its +contents."</p> + +<p>"When I shall be satisfied on that score, I will do as you desire."</p> + +<p>Arthur handed him the letter, somewhat to the other's surprise, for he +had certainly been watching for an attempt at its destruction, or at +least was prepared for prevarication and stratagem. He took the paper +from its envelope and read it carefully. It was in the following words:</p> + +<div class="blkquot"><p>Richmond, <i>May</i> —, 1861. + +<p> Dear Arthur: This will be handed to you by a sure hand. Communicate + freely with the bearer—he can be trusted. The arms can be safely + shipped as he represents, and you will therefore send them on at + once. Your last communication was of great service to the cause, + and, although I would be glad to have you with us, the President + thinks you are too valuable, for the present, where you are. When + you come, the commission will be ready for you. Yours truly,</p> + +<p> Beverly Weems, Capt. C.S.A.</p></div> + +<p>"Are you satisfied?" inquired Arthur, after the marshal had silently +concluded his examination of the document.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly satisfied," replied the other, placing the letter in his +pocket. "Mr. Wayne, it is my duty to arrest you."</p> + +<p>"Arrest me!"</p> + +<p>"In the name of the United States."</p> + +<p>"For what offence?"</p> + +<p>"Treason."</p> + +<p>Arthur remained for a while silent with astonishment. At last, as the +marshal arose and took his hat, he said:</p> + +<p>"I cannot conceive what act or word of mine can be construed as +treasonable. There is some mistake, surely; I am a quiet man, a stranger +in the city, and have conversed with but one or two persons since my +arrival. Explain to me, if you please, the particular nature of the +charge against me."</p> + +<p>"It is not my province, at this moment, to do so, Mr. Wayne. It is +sufficient that, upon information lodged with me last evening, and +forwarded to Washington by telegraph, I received from the Secretary of +War orders for your immediate arrest, should I find the information +true. I have found it true, and I arrest you."</p> + +<p>"Surely, nothing in that letter can be so misconstrued as to implicate +me."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wayne, this prevarication is as useless as it is unseemly. You +<i>know</i> that the letter is sufficient warrant for my proceeding. My +carriage is at the door. I trust you will accompany me without further +delay."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I was about to proceed, when you entered, upon an errand that +involves the safety and happiness of the young lady mentioned in that +letter. The letter itself will inform you of the circumstance, and I +assure you, events are in progress that require my immediate action. You +will at least allow me to visit the party?"</p> + +<p>The marshal looked at him with surprise.</p> + +<p>"What party?"</p> + +<p>"The lady of whom my friend makes mention."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you. I can only conceive that, for some purpose of +your own, you are anxious to gain time. I must request you to accompany +me at once to the carriage."</p> + +<p>"You will permit me at least to send a, letter—a word—a warning?"</p> + +<p>"That your accomplice may receive information? Assuredly not."</p> + +<p>"Be yourself the messenger—or send"——</p> + +<p>"This subterfuge is idle." He opened the door and stood beside it. "I +must request your company to the carriage."</p> + +<p>Arthur's cheek flushed for a moment with anger.</p> + +<p>"This severity," he said, "is ridiculous and unjust. I tell you, you and +those for whom you act will be accountable for a great crime—for +innocence betrayed—for a young life made desolate—for perhaps a +dishonored grave. I plead not for myself, but for one helpless and pure, +who at this hour may be the victim of a villain's plot. In the name of +humanity, I entreat you give me but time to avert the calamity, and I +will follow you without remonstrance. Go with me yourself. Be present at +the interview. Of what consequence to you will be an hour's delay?"</p> + +<p>"It may be of much consequence to those who are in league with you. I +cannot grant your request. You must come with me, sir, or I shall be +obliged to call for assistance," and he drew a pair of handcuffs from +his pocket.</p> + +<p>Arthur perceived that further argument or entreaty would be of no avail. +He was much agitated and distressed beyond measure at the possible +misfortune to Miranda, which, by this untimely arrest, he was powerless +to avert. Knowing nothing of the true contents of the letter which +Philip had substituted for the one received from Beverly, he could not +imagine an excuse for the marshal's inflexibility. He was quite ill, +too, and what with fever and agitation, his brain was in a whirl. He +leaned against the chair, faint and dispirited. The painful cough, the +harbinger of that fatal malady which had already brought a sister to an +early grave, oppressed him, and the hectic glowed upon his pale cheeks. +The marshal approached him, and laid his hand gently on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You seem ill," he said; "I am sorry to be harsh with you, but I must do +my duty. They will make you as comfortable as possible at the fort. But +you must come."</p> + +<p>Arthur followed him mechanically, and like one in a dream. They stepped +into the carriage and were driven rapidly away; but Arthur, as he +leaned back exhausted in his seat, murmured sorrowfully:</p> + +<p>"And poor little Mary, too! Who will befriend her now?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>In the upper apartment of a cottage standing alone by the roadside on +the outskirts of Boston, Miranda, pale and dejected, sat gazing vacantly +at the light of the solitary lamp that lit the room. The clock was +striking midnight, and the driving rain beat dismally against the +window-blinds. But one month had passed since her elopement with Philip +Searle, yet her wan cheeks and altered aspect revealed how much of +suffering can be crowded into that little space of time. She started +from her revery when the striking of the timepiece told the lateness of +the hour. Heavy footsteps sounded upon the stairway, and, while she +listened, Philip, followed by Bradshaw, entered the room abruptly.</p> + +<p>"How is this?" asked Philip, angrily. "Why are you not in bed?"</p> + +<p>"I did not know it was so late, Philip," she answered, in a deprecating +tone. "I was half asleep upon the rocking-chair, listening to the +storm. It's a bad night, Philip. How wet you are!"</p> + +<p>He brushed off the hand she had laid upon his shoulder, and muttered, +with bad humor:</p> + +<p>"I've told you a dozen times I don't want you to sit up for me. Fetch +the brandy and glasses, and go to bed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Philip, it is so late! Don't drink: to-night, Philip. You are wet, +and you look tired. Come to bed."</p> + +<p>"Do as I tell you," he answered, roughly, flinging himself into a chair, +and beckoning Bradshaw to a seat. Miranda sighed, and brought the bottle +and glasses from the closet.</p> + +<p>"Now, you go to sleep, do you hear; and don't be whining and crying all +night, like a sick girl."</p> + +<p>The poor girl moved slowly to the door, and turned at the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Philip."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good night—there, get along," he cried, impatiently, without +looking at her, and gulping down a tumblerful of spirits. Miranda closed +the door and left the two men alone together.</p> + +<p>They remained silent for a while, Bradshaw quietly sipping his liquor, +and Philip evidently disturbed and angry.</p> + +<p>"You're sure 'twas she?" he asked at last.</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother!" replied Bradshaw. "I'm not a mole nor a blind man. Don't I +know Moll when I see her?"</p> + +<p>"Curse her! she'll stick to me like a leech. What could have brought her +here? Do you think she's tracked me?"</p> + +<p>"She'd track you through fire, if she once got on the scent. Moll ain't +the gal to be fooled, and you know it."</p> + +<p>"What's to be done?"</p> + +<p>"Move out of this. Take the girl to Virginia. You'll be safe enough +there."</p> + +<p>"You're right, Bradshaw. It's the best way. I ought to have done it at +first. But, hang the girl, she'll weary me to death with her sermons and +crying fits. Moll's worth two of her for that, matter—she scolds, but +at least she never would look like a stuck fawn when I came home a +little queer. For the matter of that, she don't mind a spree herself at +times." And, emptying his glass, the libertine laughed at the +remembrance of some past orgies.</p> + +<p>While he was thus, in his half-drunken mood, consoling himself for +present perplexities by dwelling upon the bacchanalian joys of other +days, a carriage drove up the street, and stopped before the door. Soon +afterward, the hall bell was rung, and Philip, alarmed and astonished, +started from his seat.</p> + +<p>"Who's that?" he asked, almost in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Don't know," replied his companion.</p> + +<p>"She couldn't have traced me here already—unless you have betrayed me, +Bradshaw," he added suddenly, darting a suspicious glance upon his +comrade.</p> + +<p>"You're just drunk enough to be a fool," replied Bradshaw, rising from +his seat, as a second summons, more violent than the first, echoed +through the corridors. "I'll go down and see what's the matter. Some +one's mistaken the house, I suppose. That's all."</p> + +<p>"Let no one in, Bradshaw," cried Philip, as that worthy left the room. +He descended the stairs, opened the door, and presently afterward the +carriage drove rapidly away. Philip, who had been listening earnestly, +could hear the sound of the wheels as they whirled over the pavement.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said, as he applied himself once more to the bottle +before him. "Some fool has mistaken his whereabouts. Curse me, but I'm +getting as nervous as an old woman."</p> + +<p>He was in the act of lifting the glass to his lips, when the door was +flung wide open. The glass fell from his hands, and shivered upon the +floor. Moll stood before him.</p> + +<p>She stood at the threshold with a wicked gleam in her eye, and a smile +of triumph upon her lips; then advanced into the room, closed the door +quietly, locked it, seated herself composedly in the nearest chair, and +filled herself a glass of spirits. Philip glared upon her with an +expression of mingled anger, fear and wonderment.</p> + +<p>"Are you a devil? Where in thunder did you spring from?" he asked at +last.</p> + +<p>"You'll make me a devil, with your tricks, Philip Searle," she said, +sipping the liquor, and looking at him wickedly over the rim of the +tumbler.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha!" she laughed aloud, as he muttered a curse between his +clenched teeth, "I'm not the country girl, Philip dear, that I was when +you whispered your sweet nonsense in my ear. I know your game, my bully +boy, and I'll play you card for card."</p> + +<p>"Bradshaw" shouted Philip, going to the door and striving to open it.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," she said, "I've got the key in my pocket. Sit down. I +want to talk to you. Don't be a fool."</p> + +<p>"Where's Bradshaw, Moll?"</p> + +<p>"At the depot by this time, I fancy, for the carriage went off at a +deuce of a rate."</p> + +<p>She laughed again, while he paced the room with angry strides.</p> + +<p>"'Twas he, then, that betrayed me. The villain! I'll have his life for +that, as I'm a sinner."</p> + +<p>"Your a great sinner; Philip Searle. Sit down, now, and be quiet. +Where's the girl?"</p> + +<p>"What girl?"</p> + +<p>"Miranda Ayleff. The girl you've ruined; the girl you've put in my +place, and that I've come to drive out of it. Where is she?"</p> + +<p>"Don't speak so loud, Moll. Be quiet, can't you? See here, Moll," he +continued, drawing a chair to her side, and speaking in his old winning +way—"see here, Moll: why can't you just let this matter stand as it is, +and take your share of the plunder? You know I don't care about the +girl; so what difference does it make to you, if we allow her to think +that she's my lawful wife? Come, give us a kiss, Moll, and let's hear no +more about it."</p> + +<p>"Honey won't catch such an old fly as I am, Philip," replied the woman, +but with a gentled tone. "Where is the girl?" she asked suddenly, +starting from the chair. "I want to see her. Is she in there?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Philip, quickly, and rising to her passage to the door of +Miranda's chamber. "She is not there, Moll; you can't see her. Are you +crazy? You'd frighten the poor girl out of her senses."</p> + +<p>"She's in there. I'm going in to speak with her. Yes I shall, Philip, +and you needn't stop me."</p> + +<p>"Keep back. Keep quiet, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"No. Don't hold me, Philip Searle. Keep your hands off me, if you know +what's good for you."</p> + +<p>She brushed past him, and laid her hand upon the door-knob; but he +seized her violently by the arm and pulled her back. The action hurt her +wrist, and she was boiling with rage in a second. With her clenched +fist, she struck him straight in the face repeatedly, while with every +blow, she screamed out an imprecation.</p> + +<p>"Keep quiet, you hag! Keep quiet, confound you!" said the infuriated +man. "Won't you? Take that!" and he planted his fist upon her mouth.</p> + +<p>The woman, through her tears and sobs, howled at him curse upon curse. +With one hand upon her throat, he essayed to choke her utterance, and +thus they scuffled about the room.</p> + +<p>"I'll cut you, Philip; I will, by ——"</p> + +<p>Her hand, in fact, was fumbling about her pocket, and she drew forth a +small knife and thrust it into his shoulder. They were near the table, +over which Philip had thrust her down. He was wild with rage and the +brandy he had drank. His right hand instinctively grasped the heavy +bottle that by chance it came in contact with. The next instant, it +descended full upon her forehead, and with a moan of fear and pain, she +fell like lead upon the floor, and lay bleeding and motionless.</p> + +<p>Philip, still grasping the shattered bottle, gazed aghast upon the +lifeless form. Then a cry of terror burst upon his ear. He turned, and +beheld Miranda, with dishevelled hair, pale as her night-clothes, +standing at the threshold of the open door. With a convulsive shudder, +she staggered into the room, and fainted at his feet, her white arm +stained with the blood that was sinking in little pools into the carpet.</p> + +<p>He stood there gazing from one to the other, but without seeking to +succor either. The fumes of brandy, and the sudden revulsion from active +wrath to apathy, seemed to stupefy his brain. At last he stooped beside +the outstretched form of Molly, and, with averted face, felt in her +pocket and drew out the key. Stealthily, as if he feared that they could +hear him, he moved toward the door, opened it, and passing through, +closed it gently, as one does who would not waken a sleeping child or +invalid. Rapidly, but with soft steps, he descended the stairs, and went +out into the darkness and the storm.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>When Miranda awakened from her swoon, the lamp was burning dimly, and +the first light of dawn came faintly through the blinds. All was still +around her, and for some moments she could not recall the terrible scene +which had passed before her eyes. Presently her fingers came in contact +with the clots of gore that were thickening on her garment, and she +arose quickly, and, with a shudder, tottered against the wall. Her eyes +fell upon Moll's white face, the brow mangled and bruised, and the +dishevelled hair soaking in the crimson tide that kept faintly oozing +from the cut. She was alone in the house with that terrible object; for +Philip, careless of her convenience, had only procured the services of a +girl from a neighboring farm-house, who attended to the household duties +during the day, and went home in the evening. But her womanly compassion +was stronger than her sense of horror, and kneeling by the side of the +prostrate woman, with inexpressible relief she perceived, by the slight +pulsation of the heart, that life was there. Entering her chamber, she +hastily put on a morning wrapper, and returning with towel and water, +raised Moll's head upon her lap, and washed the thick blood from her +face. The cooling moisture revived the wounded woman; her bosom swelled +with a deep sigh, and she opened her eyes and looked languidly around.</p> + +<p>"How do you feel now, madam?" asked Miranda, gently.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" said Moll, in reply, after a moment's pause.</p> + +<p>"Miranda—Miranda Searle, the wife of Philip," she added, trembling at +the remembrance of the woman's treatment at her husband's hands.</p> + +<p>Molly raised herself with an effort, and sat upon the floor, looking at +Miranda, while she laughed with a loud and hollow sound.</p> + +<p>"Philip's wife, eh? And you love him, don't you? Well, dreams can't last +forever."</p> + +<p>"Don't you feel strong enough to get up and lie upon the bed?" asked +Miranda, soothingly, for she was uncomfortable tinder the strange glare +that the woman fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>"I'm well enough," said Moll. "Where's Philip?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I do not know. I am very sorry, ma'am, that—that"—</p> + +<p>"Never mind. Give me a glass of water."</p> + +<p>Miranda hastened to comply, and Moll swallowed the water, and remained +silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Shan't I go for assistance?" asked Miranda, who was anxious to put an +end to this painful interview, and was also distressed about her +husband's absence. "There's no one except ourselves in the house, but I +can go to the farmer's house near by."</p> + +<p>"Not for the world," interrupted Moll, taking her by the arm. "I'm well +enough. Here, let me lean on you. That's it. I'll sit on the +rocking-chair. Thank you. Just bind my head up, will you? Is it an ugly +cut?" she asked, as Miranda, having procured some linen, carefully +bandaged the wounded part.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! It's very bad. Does it pain you much, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind. There, that will do. Now sit down there. Don't be afraid of +me. I ain't a-going to hurt you. It's only the cut that makes me look so +ugly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I am not at all afraid, ma'am," said Miranda, shuddering in +spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"You are a sweet-looking girl," said Moll, fixing her haggard, but yet +beautiful eyes upon the fragile form beside her. "It's a pity you must +be unhappy. Has that fellow been unkind to you?"</p> + +<p>"What fellow madam?"</p> + +<p>"Philip."</p> + +<p>"He is my husband, madam," replied Miranda, mildly, but with the +slightest accent of displeasure.</p> + +<p>"He is, eh? Hum! You love him dearly, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Miranda blushed, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you know my husband?"</p> + +<p>"Know him! If you knew him as well, it would be better for you. You'll +know him well enough before long. You come from Virginia, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You must go back there."</p> + +<p>"If Philip wishes it."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, you must go at once—to-day. I will give you money, if you +have none. And you must never speak of what has happened in this house. +Do you understand me?"</p> + +<p>"But Philip"—</p> + +<p>"Forget Philip. You must never see him any more. Why should you want to? +Don't you know that he's a brute, and will beat you as he beat me, if +you stay with him. Why should. you care about him?"</p> + +<p>"He is my husband, and you should not speak about him so to me," said +Miranda, struggling with her tears, and scarce knowing in what vein to +converse with the rude woman, whose strange language bewildered and +frightened her.</p> + +<p>"Bah!" said Moll, roughly. "You're a simpleton. There, don't cry, though +heaven knows you've cause enough, poor thing! Philip Searle's a villain. +I could send him to the State prison if I chose."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! don't say that; indeed, don't."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I could; but I will not, if you mind me, and do what I tell +you. I'm a bad creature, but I won't harm you, if I can help it. You +helped me when I was lying there, after that villain hurt me, and I +can't help liking you. And yet you've hurt me, too."</p> + +<p>"I!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Shall I tell you a story? Poor girl! you're wretched enough now, +but you'd better know the truth at once. Listen to me: I was an innocent +girl, like you, once. Not so beautiful, perhaps, and not so good; for I +was always proud and willful, and loved to have my own way. I was a +country girl, and had money left to me by my dead parents. A young man +made my acquaintance. He was gay and handsome, and made me believe that +he loved me. Well, I married him—do you hear? I married him—at the +church, with witnesses, and a minister to make me his true and lawful +wife. Curse him! I wish he had dropped down dead at the altar. There, +you needn't shudder; it would have been well for you if he had. I +married him, and then commenced my days of sorrow and—of guilt. He +squandered my money at the gambling-table, and I was sometimes in rags +and without food. He was drunk half the time, and abused me; but I was +even with him there, and gave him as good as he gave me. He taught me to +drink, and such a time as we sometimes made together would have made +Satan blush. I thought I was low enough; but he drove me lower yet. He +put temptation in my way—he did, curse his black heart! though he +denied it. I fell as low as woman can fall, and then I suppose you think +he left me? Well, he did, for a time; he went off somewhere, and perhaps +it was then he was trying to ruin some other girl, as foolish as I had +been. But he came back, and got money from me—the wages of my sin. And +all the while, he was as handsome, and could talk as softly as if he was +a saint. And with that smooth tongue and handsome face he won another +bride, and married her—married her, I tell you; and that's why I can +send him to the State prison."</p> + +<p>"Send him! Who? My God! what do you mean?" cried Miranda, rising slowly +from her chair, with clasped hands and ashen cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Philip Searle, my husband!" shouted Moll, rising also, and standing +with gleaming eyes before the trembling girl.</p> + +<p>Miranda sank slowly back into her seat, tearless, but shuddering as +with an ague fit. Only from her lips, with a moaning sound, a murmur +came:</p> + +<p>"No, no, no! oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"May God strike me dead this instant, if it is not true!" said Moll, +sadly; for she felt for the poor girl's, distress.</p> + +<p>Miranda rose, her hands pressed tightly against her heart, and moved +toward the door with tottering and uncertain steps, like one who +suffocates and seeks fresh air. Then her white lips were stained with +purple; a red stream gushed from her mouth and dyed the vestment on her +bosom; and ere Moll could reach her, she had sunk, with an agonizing +sob, upon the floor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The night after the unhappy circumstance we have related, in the +bar-room of a Broadway hotel, in New York city, a colonel of volunteers, +moustached and uniformed, and evidently in a very unmilitary condition +of unsteadiness, was entertaining a group of convivial acquaintances, +with bacchanalian exercises and martian gossip.</p> + +<p>He had already, with a month's experience at the seat of war, culled the +glories of unfought fields, and was therefore an object of admiration to +his civilian friends, and of envy to several unfledged heroes, whose +maiden swords had as yet only jingled on the pavement of Broadway, or +flashed in the gaslight of saloons. They were yet none the less +conscious of their own importance, these embryo Napoleons, but wore +their shoulder straps with a killing air, and had often, on a sunny +afternoon, stood the fire of bright eyes from innumerable promenading +batteries, with gallantry, to say the least.</p> + +<p>And now they stood, like Caesars, amid clouds of smoke, and wielded +their formidable goblets with the ease of veterans, though not always +with a soldierly precision. And why should they not? Their tailors had +made them heroes, every one; and they had never yet once led the van in +a retreat.</p> + +<p>"And how's Tim?" asked one of the black-coated hangers-on upon +prospective glory.</p> + +<p>"Tim's in hot water," answered the colonel, elevating his chin and elbow +with a gesture more suggestive of Bacchus than of Mars.</p> + +<p>"Hot brandy and water would be more like him," said the acknowledged wit +of the party, looking gravely at the sugar in his empty glass, as if +indifferent to the bursts of laughter which rewarded his appropriate +sally.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you about it," said the colonel. "Fill up, boys. Thompson, +take a fresh segar."</p> + +<p>Thompson took it, and the boys filled up, while the colonel flung down a +specimen of Uncle Sam's eagle with an emphasis that demonstrated what +he would do for the bird when opportunity offered.</p> + +<p>"You see, we had a party of Congressmen in camp, and were cracking some +champagne bottles in the adjutant's tent. We considered it a military +necessity to floor the legislators, you know; but one old senator was +tough as a siege-gun, and wouldn't even wink at his third bottle. So the +corks flew about like minié balls, but never a man but was too good a +soldier to cry 'hold, enough.' As for that old demijohn of a senator, it +seemed he couldn't hold enough, and wouldn't if he could; so we directed +the main battle against him, and opened a masked battery upon him, by +uncovering a bottle of Otard; but he never flinched. It was a game of +<i>Brag</i> all over, and every one kept ordering 'a little more grape.' +Presently, up slaps a mounted aid, galloping like mad, and in tumbles +the sleepy orderly for the officer of the day.</p> + +<p>"'That's you, Tim,' says I. But Tim was just then singing the Star +Spangled Banner in a convivial whisper to the tune of the Red, White, +and Blue, and wouldn't be disturbed on no account.</p> + +<p>"'Tumble out, Tim,' says I, 'or I'll have you court-martialled and +shot.'</p> + +<p>"'In the neck,' says Tim. But he did manage to tumble out, and finished +the last stanzas with a flourish, for the edification of the mounted +aid-de-camp.</p> + +<p>"'Where's the officer of the day?' asked the aid, looking suspiciously +at Tim's shaky knees.</p> + +<p>"'He stands before you,' replied Tim, steadying himself a little by +affectionately hanging on to the horse's tail.</p> + +<p>"'You sir? you're unfit for duty, and I'll report you, sir, at +headquarters,' said the aid, who was a West Pointer, you know, stiff as +a poker in regimentals.</p> + +<p>"'Sir!—hic,' replied Tim, with an attempt at offended dignity, the +effect of which was rather spoiled by the accompanying hiccough.</p> + +<p>"'Where's the colonel!' asked the aid.</p> + +<p>"'Drunk,' says that rascal, Tim, confidentially, with a knowing wink.</p> + +<p>"'Where's the adjutant?'</p> + +<p>"'Drunk.'</p> + +<p>"'Good God, sir, are you all drunk?'</p> + +<p>"''Cept the surgeon—he's got the measles.'</p> + +<p>"'Orderly, give this dispatch, to the first sober officer you can +find.'</p> + +<p>"'It's no use, captain,' says Tim, 'the regiment's drunk—'cept me, +hic!' and Tim lost his balance, and tumbled over the orderly, for you +see the captain put spurs to his horse rather suddenly, and whisked the +friendly tail out of his hands.</p> + +<p>"So we were all up before the general the next day, but swore ourselves +clear, all except Tim, who had the circumstantial evidence rather too +strong against him."</p> + +<p>"And such are the men in whom the country has placed its trust?" +muttered a grey-headed old gentleman, who, while apparently absorbed in +his newspaper, had been listening to the colonel's narrative.</p> + +<p>A young man who had lounged into the room approached the party and +caught the colonel's eye:</p> + +<p>"Ah! Searle, how are you? Come up and take a drink."</p> + +<p>A further requisition was made upon the bartender, and the company +indulged anew. Searle, although a little pale and nervous, was all life +and gaiety. His coming was a fresh brand on the convivial flame, and +the party, too much exhilarated to be content with pushing one vice to +excess, sallied forth in search of whatever other the great city might +afford. They had not to look far. Folly is at no fault in the metropolis +for food of whatever quality to feed upon; and they were soon +accommodated with excitement to their hearts content at a fashionable +gambling saloon on Broadway. The colonel played with recklessness and +daring that, if he carries it to the battle-field, will wreathe his brow +with laurels; but like many a rash soldier before him, he did not win. +On the contrary, his eagles took flight with a rapidity suggestive of +the old adage that "gold hath wings," and when, long after midnight, he +stood upon the deserted street alone with Philip Searle and his +reflections, he was a sadder and a soberer man.</p> + +<p>"Searle, I'm a ruined man."</p> + +<p>"You'll fight all the better for it," replied Philip, knocking the ashes +from his segar. "Come, you'll never mend the matter by taking cold here +in the night air; where do you put up? I'll see you home."</p> + +<p>"D—n you, you take it easy," said the colonel, bitterly. Philip could +afford to take it easy, for he had most of the colonel's money in his +pocket. In fact, the unhappy votary of Mars was more thoroughly ruined +than his companion was aware of, for when fortune was hitting him +hardest, he had not hesitated to bring into action a reserve of +government funds which had been intrusted to his charge for specific +purposes.</p> + +<p>"Searle," said the colonel, after they had walked along silently for a +few minutes, "I was telling you this evening about that vacant +captaincy."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you were telling me I shouldn't have it," replied Philip, with an +accent of injured friendship.</p> + +<p>"Well, I fancied it out of my power to do anything about it. But"—</p> + +<p>"Well, but?"—</p> + +<p>"I think I might get it for you, for—for"——</p> + +<p>"A consideration?" suggested Philip, interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"Well, to be plain with you, let me have five hundred, and you've won +all of that to-night, and I'll get you the captaincy."</p> + +<p>"We'll talk about it to-morrow morning," replied Philip.</p> + +<p>And in the morning the bargain was concluded; Philip, with the promise +that all should be satisfactorily arranged, started the same day for +Washington, to await the commission so honorably disposed of by the +gallant colonel.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>We will let thirty days pass on, and bear the reader South of the +Potomac, beyond the Federal lines and within rifle-shot of an advanced +picket of the Confederate army, under General Beauregard. It was a +dismal night—the 16th of July. The rain fell heavily and the wind +moaned and shrieked through the lone forests like unhappy spirits +wailing in the darkness. A solitary horseman was cautiously wending his +way through the storm upon the Centreville road and toward the +Confederate Hue. He bore a white handkerchief, and from time to time, as +his ear seemed to catch a sound other than the voice of the tempest, he +drew his rein and raised the fluttering symbol at his drawn sword's +point. Through the dark masses of foliage that skirted the roadside, +presently could be seen the fitful glimmer of a watchfire, and the +traveller redoubled his precautions, but yet rode steadily on.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" cried a stern, loud voice from a clump of bushes that looked +black and threatening in the darkness. The horseman checked his horse +and sat immovable in the centre of the road.</p> + +<p>"Who goes there?" followed quick, in the same deep, peremptory tone.</p> + +<p>"An officer of the United States, with a flag of truce," was answered in +a clear, firm voice.</p> + +<p>"Stand where you are." There was a pause, and presently four dark forms +emerged from the roadside, and stood at the horse's head.</p> + +<p>"You've chosen a strange time for your errand, and a dangerous one," +said one of the party, with a mild and gentlemanly accent.</p> + +<p>"Who speaks?"</p> + +<p>"The officer in command of this picket."</p> + +<p>"Is not that Beverly Weems?"</p> + +<p>"The same. And surely I know that voice."</p> + +<p>"Of course you do, if you know Harold Hare."</p> + +<p>And the stranger, dismounting, stretched out his hand, which was eagerly +and warmly clasped, and followed by a silent and prolonged embrace.</p> + +<p>"How rash you have been, Harold," said Beverly, at last. "It is a mercy +that I was by, else might a bullet have been your welcome. Why did you +not wait till morning?"</p> + +<p>"Because my mission admits of no delay. It is most opportune that I have +met you. You have spoken to me at times, and Oriana often, of your young +cousin, Miranda."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Harold, what of her?"</p> + +<p>"Beverly, she is within a rifle-shot of where we stand, very sick—dying +I believe."</p> + +<p>"Good God, Harold! what strange tale is this?"</p> + +<p>"I am in command of an advanced picket, stationed at the old farm-house +yonder. Toward dusk this evening, a carriage drove up, and when +challenged, a pass was presented, with orders to assist the bearer, +Miranda Ayleff, beyond the lines. I remembered the name, and stepping to +the carriage door, beheld two females, one of whom was bending over her +companion, and holding a vial, a restorative, I suppose, to her lips.</p> + +<p>"'She has fainted, sir,' said the woman, 'and is very ill. I'm afraid +she won't last till she gets to Richmond. Can't you help her; isn't +there a surgeon among you at the farm-house there?'</p> + +<p>"We had no surgeon, but I had her taken into the house, and made as +comfortable as possible. When she recovered from her swoon, she asked +for you, and repeatedly for Oriana, and would not be comforted until I +promised her that she should be taken immediately on to Richmond. 'She +could not die there, among strangers,' she said; 'she must see one +friend before she died. She must go home at once and be forgiven.' And +thus she went, half in delirium, until I feared that her life would pass +away, from sheer exhaustion. I determined to ride over to your picket at +once, not dreaming, however, that you were in command. At dawn to-morrow +we shall probably be relieved, and it might be beyond my power then to +meet her wishes."</p> + +<p>"I need not say how much I thank you, Harold. But you were ever kind and +generous. Poor girl! Let us ride over at once, Harold. Who is her +companion?"</p> + +<p>"A woman some years her senior, but yet young, though prematurely faded. +I could get little from her. Not even her name. She is gloomy and +reserved, even morose at times; but she seems to be kind and attentive +to Miranda."</p> + +<p>Beverly left some hasty instructions with his sergeant, and rode over +with Harold to the farm-house. They found Miranda reclining upon a couch +of blankets, over which Harold had spread his military cloak, for the +dwelling had been stripped of its furniture, and was, in fact, little +more than a deserted ruin. The suffering girl was pale and attenuated, +and her sunken eyes were wild and bright with the fire of delirium. Yet +she seemed to recognize Beverly, and stretched out her thin arms when he +approached, exclaiming in tremulous accents:</p> + +<p>"Take me home, Beverly, oh, take me home!"</p> + +<p>Moll was seated by her side, upon a soldier's knapsack; her chin resting +upon her hands, and her black eyes fixed sullenly upon the floor. She +would give but short and evasive answers to Beverly's questions, and +stubbornly refused to communicate the particulars of Miranda's history.</p> + +<p>"She broke a blood-vessel a month ago in Boston. But she got better, +and was always wanting to go to her friends in Richmond. And so I +brought her on. And now you must take care of her, for I'm going back to +camp."</p> + +<p>This was about all the information she would give, and the two young men +ceased to importune her, and directed their attentions to the patient.</p> + +<p>The carriage was prepared and the cushions so arranged, with the help of +blankets, as to form a kind of couch within the vehicle. Upon this +Miranda was tenderly lifted, and when she was told that she should be +taken home without delay, and would soon see Oriana, she smiled like a +pleased child, and ceased complaining.</p> + +<p>Beverly stood beside his horse, with his hand clasped in Harold's. The +rain poured down upon them, and the single watchfire, a little apart +from which the silent sentinel stood leaning on his rifle, threw its +rude glare upon their saddened faces.</p> + +<p>"Good bye, old friend," said Beverly. "We have met strangely to-night, +and sadly. Pray heaven we may not meet more sadly on the battle-field."</p> + +<p>"Tell Oriana," replied Harold, "that I am with her in my prayers." He +had not spoken of her before, although Beverly had mentioned that she +was at the old manor house, and well. "I have not heard from Arthur," he +continued, "for I have been much about upon scouting parties since I +came, but I doubt not he is well, and I may find a letter when I return +to camp. Good bye; and may our next meeting see peace upon the land."</p> + +<p>They parted, and the carriage, with Beverly riding at its side, moved +slowly into the darkness, and was gone.</p> + +<p>Harold returned into the farm-house, and found Moll seated where he had +left her, and still gazing fixedly at the floor. He did not disturb her, +but paced the floor slowly, lost in his own melancholy thoughts. After a +silence of some minutes, the woman spoke, without looking up.</p> + +<p>"Have they gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"She is dying, ain't she?"</p> + +<p>"I fear she is very ill."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, she's dying—and it's better that she is."</p> + +<p>She then relapsed into her former mood, but after a while, as Harold +paused at the window and looked out, she spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Will it soon be day?"</p> + +<p>"Within an hour, I think," replied Harold. "Do you go back at daylight?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You have no horse?"</p> + +<p>"You'll lend me one, won't you? If you don't, I don't care; I can walk."</p> + +<p>"We will do what we can for you. What is your business at the camp?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," she answered gruffly. And then, after a pause, she asked:</p> + +<p>"Is there a man named Searle in your army—Philip Searle?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know not. There may be. I have never heard the name. Do you seek +such a person? Is he your friend, or relative?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," she said again, and then was silent as before.</p> + +<p>With the approach of dawn, the sentry challenged an advancing troop, +which proved to be the relief picket guard. Harold saluted the officer +in command, and having left orders respectively with their +subordinates, they entered the farm-house together, and proceeded to the +apartment where Moll still remained seated. She did not seem to notice +their entrance; but when the new-comer's voice, in some casual remark, +reached her ear, she rose up suddenly, and walking straight forward to +where the two stood, looking out at the window, she placed her hand +heavily, and even rudely, upon his shoulder. He turned at the touch, and +beholding her, started back, with not only astonishment, but fear.</p> + +<p>"You needn't look so white, Philip Searle," she said at last, in a low, +hoarse tone. "It's not a ghost you're looking at. But perhaps you're +only angry that you only half did your business while you were at it."</p> + +<p>"Where did you pick up this woman?" asked Searle of Harold, drawing him +aside.</p> + +<p>"She came with an invalid on her way to Richmond," replied Harold.</p> + +<p>"What invalid?"</p> + +<p>He spoke almost in a whisper, but Moll overheard him, and answered +fiercely:</p> + +<p>"One that is dying, Philip; and you know well enough who murdered her. +'Twasn't me you struck the hardest blow that night. Do you see that +scar? That's nothing; but you struck her to the heart."</p> + +<p>"What does she mean?" asked Harold, looking sternly into Philip's +disturbed eye.</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows. She's mad," he answered. "Did she tell you nothing—no +absurd story?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. She was sullen and uncommunicative, and half the time took no +notice of our questions."</p> + +<p>"No wonder, poor thing!" said Philip. "She's mad. However, I have some +little power with her, and if you will leave us alone awhile, I will +prevail upon her to go quietly back to Washington."</p> + +<p>Harold went up to the woman, who was leaning with folded arms against +the wall, and spoke kindly to her.</p> + +<p>"Should you want assistance, I will help you. We shall be going in half +an hour. You must be ready to go with us, you know, for you can't stay +here, where there may be fighting presently."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she replied. "Don't mind me. I can take care of myself. +You can leave us alone together. I'm not afraid of him."</p> + +<p>Harold left the room, and busied himself about the preparations for +departure. Left alone with the woman he had wronged, Philip for some +moments paced the room nervously and with clouded brow. Finally, he +stopped abruptly before Moll, who had been following his motions with +her wild, unquiet eyes.</p> + +<p>"Where have you sprung from now, and what do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Do you see that scar?" she said again, but more fiercely than before. +"While that lasts, there's no love 'twixt you and me, and it'll last me +till my death."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you trouble me. If you don't love me, why do you hang about +me wherever I go? We'll be better friends away from each other than +together. Why don't you leave me alone?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! we must be quits for that, you know," she answered, rather +wildly, and pointing to her forehead. "Do you think I'm a poor whining +fool like her, to get sick and die when you abuse me? I'll haunt you +till I die, Philip; and after, too, if I can, to punish you for that."</p> + +<p>Philip fancied that he detected the gleam of insanity in her eye, and he +was not wrong, for the terrible blow he had inflicted had injured her +brain; and her mind, weakened by dissipation and the action of +excitement upon her violent temperament, was tottering upon the verge of +madness.</p> + +<p>"When I was watching that poor sick girl," she continued, "I thought I +could have loved her, she was so beautiful and gentle, as she lay there, +white and thin, and never speaking a word against you, Philip, but +thinking of her friends far away, and asking to be taken home—home, +where her mother was sleeping under the sod—home, to be loved and +kissed again before she died. And I would have loved her if I hadn't +hated you so much that there wasn't room for the love of any living +creature in my bad heart. I used to sit all night and hear her +talk—talk in her dreams and in her fever—as if there were kind people +listening to her, people that were kind to her long ago. And the room +seemed full of angels sometimes, so that I was afraid to move and look +about; for I could swear I heard the fanning of their wings and the +rustle of their feet upon the carpet. Sometimes I saw big round tears +upon her wasted cheeks, and I wouldn't brush them away, for they looked +like jewels that the angels had dropped there. And then I tried to cry +myself, but, ha! ha! I had to laugh instead, although my heart was +bursting. I wished I could have cried; I'm sure it would have made my +heart so light, and perhaps it would have burst that ring of hot iron +that was pressing so hard around my head. It's there now, sinking and +burning right against my temples. But I can't cry, I haven't since I was +a little girl, long ago, long ago; but I think I cried when mother died, +long ago, long ago."</p> + +<p>She was speaking in a kind of dreamy murmur, while Philip paced the +room; and finally she sank down upon the floor, and sat there with her +hands pressed against her brows, rocking herself to and fro.</p> + +<p>"Moll," said Philip, stooping over her, and speaking in a gentle tone, +"I'm sorry I struck you, indeed I am; but I was drunk, and when you cut +me, I didn't know what I was about. Now let's be friends, there's a +good girl. You must go back to Washington, you know, and to New York, +and stay there till I come back. Won't you, now, Moll?"</p> + +<p>"Won't I? No, Philip Searle, I won't. I'll stay by you till you kill me; +yes, I will. You want to go after that poor girl and torment her; but +she's dying and soon you won't be able to hurt her any more."</p> + +<p>"Was it she, Moll, was it Miranda that came here with you? Was she going +to Richmond?"</p> + +<p>"She was going to heaven, Philip Searle, out of the reach of such as you +and me. I'm good enough for you, Philip, bad as I am; and I'm your wife, +besides."</p> + +<p>"You told her that?"</p> + +<p>"Told her? Ha! ha! Told her? do you think I'm going to make that a +secret? No, no. We're a bad couple, sure enough; but I'm not going to +deny you, for all that. Look you, young man," she continued, addressing +Harold, who at that moment entered the room, "that is Philip Searle, and +Philip Searle is my husband—my husband, curse his black heart! and if +he dares deny it, I'll have him in the State prison, for I can do it."</p> + +<p>"She's perfectly insane," said Philip; but Harold looked thoughtful and +perplexed, and scanned his fellow-officer's countenance with a searching +glance.</p> + +<p>"At all events," he said, "she must not remain here. My good woman, we +are ready now, and you must come with us. We have a horse for you, and +will make you comfortable. Are you ready?"</p> + +<p>"No," she replied, sullenly, "I won't go. I'll stay with my husband."</p> + +<p>"Nay," remonstrated Harold, gently, "you cannot stay here. This is no +place for women. When we arrive at headquarters, you shall tell your +story to General McDowell, and he will see that you are taken care of, +and have justice if you have been wronged. But you must not keep us +waiting. We are soldiers, you know, and must do our duty."</p> + +<p>Still, however, she insisted upon remaining where she was; but when two +soldiers, at a gesture from Harold, approached and took her gently by +the arms, she offered no resistance, and suffered herself to be led +quietly out. Harold coldly saluted Searle, and left him in charge of the +post; while himself and party, accompanied by Moll and the coachman who +had driven them from Washington, were soon briskly marching toward the +camp.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Toward dusk of the same day, while Philip and his lieutenant were seated +at the rude pine table, conversing after their evening meal, the +sergeant of the guard entered with a slip of paper, on which was traced +a line in pencil.</p> + +<p>"Is the bearer below?" asked Philip, as he cast his eyes over the paper.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. He was challenged a minute ago, and answered with the +countersign and that slip for you, sir."</p> + +<p>"It's all right, sergeant; you may send him up. Mr. Williams," he +continued, to his comrade, "will you please to look about a little and +see that all is in order. I will speak a few words with this messenger."</p> + +<p>The lieutenant and sergeant left the room, and presently afterward there +entered, closing the door carefully after him, no less a personage than +Seth Rawbon.</p> + +<p>"You're late," said Philip, motioning him to a chair.</p> + +<p>"There's an old proverb to answer that," answered Rawbon, as he +leisurely adjusted his lank frame upon the seat. Having established +himself to his satisfaction, he continued:</p> + +<p>"I had to make a considerable circuit to avoid the returning picket, who +might have bothered me with questions. I'm in good time, though. If +you've made up your mind to go, you'll do it as well by night, and safer +too."</p> + +<p>"What have you learned?"</p> + +<p>"Enough to make me welcome at headquarters. You were right about the +battle. There'll be tough work soon. They're fixing for a general +advance. If you expect to do your first fighting under the stars and +bars, you must swear by them to-night."</p> + +<p>"Have you been in Washington?"</p> + +<p>"Every nook and corner of it. They don't keep their eyes skinned, I +fancy, up there. Your fancy colonels have slippery tongues when the +champagne corks are flying. If they fight as hard as they drink, they'll +give us trouble. Well, what do you calculate to do?" he added, after a +pause, during which Philip was moody and lost in thought.</p> + +<p>Philip rose from his seat and paced the floor uneasily, while Rawbon +filled a glass from a flask of brandy on the table. It was now quite +dark without, and neither of them observed the figure of a woman +crouched on the narrow veranda, her chin resting on the sill of the open +window. At last Philip resumed his seat, and he, too, swallowed a deep +draught from the flask of brandy.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what I can count upon?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The same grade you have, and in a crack regiment. It's no use asking +for money. They've none to spare for such as you—now don't look +savage—I mean they won't buy men that hain't seen service, and you +can't expect them to. I told you all about that before, and it's time +you had your mind made up."</p> + +<p>"What proofs of good faith can you give me?"</p> + +<p>Rawbon thrust his hand into his bosom and drew out a roll of parchment.</p> + +<p>"This commission, under Gen. Beauregard's hand, to be approved when you +report yourself at headquarters."</p> + +<p>Philip took the document and read it attentively, while Rawbon occupied +himself with filling his pipe from a leathern pouch. The female figure +stepped in at the window, and, gliding noiselessly into the room, seated +herself in a third chair by the table before either of the men became +aware of her presence. They started up with astonishment and +consternation. She did not seem to heed them, but leaning upon the +table, she stretched her hand to the brandy flask and applied it to her +lips.</p> + +<p>"Who's this?" demanded Rawbon, with his hand upon the hilt of his large +bowie knife.</p> + +<p>"Curse her! my evil genius," answered Philip, grating his teeth with +anger. It was Moll.</p> + +<p>"What's this, Philip!" she said, clutching the parchment which had been +dropped upon the table.</p> + +<p>"Leave that," ejaculated her husband, savagely, and darting to take it +from her.</p> + +<p>But she eluded his grasp, and ran with the document into a corner of the +room.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha! I know what it is," she said, waving it about as a +schoolboy sometimes exultingly exhibits a toy that he has mischievously +snatched from a comrade.</p> + +<p>"It's your death-warrant, Philip Searle, if somebody sees it over +yonder. I heard you. I heard you. You're going over to fight for Jeff. +Davis. Well, I don't care, but I'll go with you. Don't come near me. +Don't hurt me, Philip, or I'll scream to the soldier out there."</p> + +<p>"I won't hurt you, Moll. Be quiet now, there's a good girl. Come here +and take a sup more of brandy."</p> + +<p>"I won't. You want to hurt me. But you can't. I'm a match for you both. +Ha! ha! You don't know how nicely I slipped away from the soldiers when +they, were resting. I went into the thick bushes, right down in the +water, and lay still. I wanted to laugh when I saw them, hunting for me, +and I could almost have touched the young officer if I had wished. But I +lay still as a mouse, and they went off and never found me. Ha! ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"Is she drunk or mad?" asked Rawbon.</p> + +<p>"Mad," answered Philip, "but cunning enough to do mischief, if she has a +mind to. Moll, dear, come sit down here and be quiet; come, now."</p> + +<p>"Mad? mad?" murmured Moll, catching his word. "No, I'm not mad," she +continued wildly, passing her hands over her brows, "but I saw spirits +just now in the woods, and heard voices, and they've frightened me. The +ghost of the girl that died in the hospital was there. You knew little +blue-eyed Lizzie, Philip. She was cursing me when she died and calling +for her mother. But I don't care. The man paid me well for getting her, +and 'twasn't my fault if she got sick and died. Poor thing! poor thing! +poor little blue-eyed Lizzie! She was innocent enough when she first +came, but she got to be as bad as any—until she got sick and died. Poor +little Lizzie!" And thus murmuring incoherently, the unhappy woman sat +down upon the floor, and bent her head upon her knees.</p> + +<p>"Clap that into her mouth," whispered Philip, handing Rawbon his +handkerchief rolled tightly into a ball. "Quietly now, but quick. Look +out now. She's strong as a trooper."</p> + +<p>They approached her without noise, but suddenly, and while Philip +grasped her wrists, Rawbon threw back her head, and forcing the jaws +open by a violent pressure of his knuckles against the joint, thrust +the handkerchief between her teeth and bound it tightly there with two +turns of his sash. The shriek was checked upon her lips and changed into +a painful, gurgling groan. The poor creature, with convulsive efforts, +struggled to free her arms from Philip's grasp, but he managed to keep +his hold until Rawbon had secured her wrists with the stout cord that +suspended his canteen. A silk neckerchief was then tightly bound around +her ankles, and Moll, with heaving breast and glaring eyes, lay, moaning +piteously, but speechless and motionless, upon the floor.</p> + +<p>"We can leave her there," said Rawbon. "It's not likely any of your men +will come in, until morning at least. Let's be off at once."</p> + +<p>Philip snatched up the parchment where it had fallen, and silently +followed his companion.</p> + +<p>"We are going beyond the line to look about a bit," he said to the +sergeant on duty, as they passed his post. "Keep all still and quiet +till we return."</p> + +<p>"Take some of the boys with you, captain," replied the sergeant. "We're +unpleasant close to those devils, sir."</p> + +<p>"It's all right, sergeant. There's no danger," And nodding to Seth, the +two walked leisurely along the road until concealed by the darkness, +when they quickened their pace and pushed boldly toward the Confederate +lines.</p> + +<p>Half an hour, or less perhaps, after their departure, the sentry, posted +at about a hundred yards from the house, observed an unusual light +gleaming from the windows of the old farm-house. He called the attention +of Lieutenant Williams, who was walking by in conversation with the +sergeant, to the circumstance.</p> + +<p>"Is not the captain there?" asked the lieutenant.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," replied the sergeant, "he started off to go beyond the line +half an hour ago."</p> + +<p>"Alone?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; that chap that came in at dusk was with him."</p> + +<p>"It's strange he should have gone without speaking to me about it."</p> + +<p>"I wanted him to take some of our fellows along, sir, but he didn't care +to. By George! that house is afire, sir. Look there."</p> + +<p>While talking, they had been proceeding toward the farm-house, when the +light from the windows brightened suddenly into a broad glare, and +called forth the sergeant's exclamation. Before they reached the +building a jet of flame had leaped from one of the casements, and +continued to whirl like a flaming ribbon in the air. They quickened +their pace to a run, and bursting into the doorway, were driven back by +a dense volume of smoke, that rolled in black masses along the corridor. +They went in again, and the sergeant pushed open the door of the room +where Moll lay bound, but shut it quickly again, as a tongue of flame +lashed itself toward him like an angry snake.</p> + +<p>"It's all afire, sir," he said, coughing and spluttering through the +smoke. "Are there any of the captain's traps inside?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all," replied the lieutenant. "Let's go in, however, and see +what can be done."</p> + +<p>They entered, but were driven back by the baffling smoke and the flames +that were now licking all over the dry plastering of the room.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," said the lieutenant, when they had gained their breath in +the open air. "There's no water, except in the brook down yonder, and +what the men have in their canteens. The house is like tinder. Let it +go, sergeant; it's not worth saving at the risk of singing your +whiskers."</p> + +<p>The men had now come up, and gathered about the officer to receive his +commands.</p> + +<p>"Let the old shed go, my lads," he said. "It's well enough that some +rebel should give us a bonfire now and then. Only stand out of the +glare, boys, or you may have some of those devils yonder making targets +of you."</p> + +<p>The men fell back into the shadow, and standing in little groups, or +seated upon the sward, watched the burning house, well pleased to have +some spectacle to relieve the monotony of the night. And they looked +with indolent gratification, passing the light jest and the merry word, +while the red flames kept up their wild sport, and great masses of +rolling vapor upheaved from the crackling roof, and blackened the +midnight sky. None sought to read the mystery of that conflagration. It +was but an old barn gone to ashes a little before its time. Perhaps some +mischievous hand among them had applied the torch for a bit of +deviltry. Perhaps the flames had caught from Rawbon's pipe, which he had +thrown carelessly among a heap of rubbish when startled by Molly's +sudden apparition. Or yet, perhaps, though Heaven forbid it, for the +sake of human nature, the same hand that had struck so nearly fatally +once, had been tempted to complete the work of death in a more terrible +form.</p> + +<p>But within those blistering walls, who can tell what ghastly revels the +mad flames were having over their bound and solitary victim! Perhaps, as +she lay there with distended jaws, and eyeballs starting from their +sockets, that brain, amid the visions of its madness, became conscious +of the first kindling of the subtle element that was so soon to clasp +her in its terrible embrace. How dreadful, while the long minutes +dragged, to watch its stealthy progress, and to feel that one little +effort of an unbound hand could avert the danger, and yet to lie there +helpless, motionless, without even the power to give utterance to the +shriek of terror which strained her throat to suffocation. And then, as +the creeping flame became stronger and brighter, and took long and +silent leaps from one object to another, gliding along the lathed, and +papered wall, rolling and curling along the raftered ceiling, would not +the wretched woman, raving already in delirium, behold the spectres that +her madness feared, beckoning to her in the lurid glare, or gliding in +and out among the wild fires that whirled in fantastic gambols around +and overhead! Nearer and nearer yet the rolling flame advances; it +commences to hiss and murmur in its progress; it wreathes itself about +the chairs and tables, and laps up the little pool of brandy spilled +from the forgotten flask; it plays about her feet, and creeps lazily +amid the folds of her gown, yet wet from the brook in which she had +concealed herself that day; it scorches and shrivels up the flesh upon +her limbs, while pendent fiery tongues leap from the burning rafters, +and kiss her cheeks and brows where the black veins swell almost to +bursting; every muscle and nerve of her frame is strained with +convulsive efforts to escape, but the cords only sink into the bloating +flesh, and she lies there crisping like a log, and as powerless to +move. The dense, black smoke hangs over her like a pall, but prostrate +as she is, it cannot sink low enough to suffocate and end her agony. How +the bared bosom heaves! how the tortured limbs writhe, and the +blackening cuticle emits a nauseous steam! The black blood oozing from +her nostrils proclaims how terrible the inward struggle. The whole frame +bends and shrinks, and warps like a fragment of leather thrown into a +furnace—the flame has reached her vitals—at last, by God's mercy, she +is dead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<p>At dawn of the morning of the 21st of July, an officer in plain undress +was busily writing at a table in a plainly-furnished apartment of a +farm-house near Manassas. He was of middle age and medium size, with +dark complexion, bold, prominent features, and steady, piercing black +eyes. His manner and the respectful demeanor of several officers in +attendance, rather than any insignia of office which he wore, bespoke +him of high rank; and the earnest attention which he bestowed upon his +labor, together with the numerous orders, written and verbal, which he +delivered at intervals to members of his staff, denoted that an affair +of importance was in hand. Several horses, ready caparisoned, were held +by orderlies at the door-way, and each aid, as he received instructions, +mounted and dashed away at a gallop.</p> + +<p>The building was upon a slight elevation of land, and along the plain +beneath could be seen the long rows of tents and the curling smoke of +camp-fires; while the hum of many voices in the distance, with here and +there a bugle-blast and the spirit-stirring roll of drums, denoted the +site of the Confederate army. The reveille had just sounded, and the din +of active preparation could be heard throughout the camp. Regiments were +forming, and troops of horse were marshalling in squadron, while others +were galloping here and there; while, through the ringing of sabres and +the strains of marshal music, the low rumbling of the heavy-wheeled +artillery was the most ominous sound.</p> + +<p>An orderly entered the apartment where General Beauregard was writing, +and spoke with one of the members of the staff in waiting.</p> + +<p>"What is it, colonel?" asked the general, looking up.</p> + +<p>"An officer from the outposts, with two prisoners, general." And he +added something in a lower tone.</p> + +<p>"Very opportune," said Beauregard. "Let them come in."</p> + +<p>The orderly withdrew and reentered with Captain Weems, followed by +Philip Searle and Rawbon. A glance of recognition passed between the +latter and Beauregard, and Seth, obeying a gesture of the general, +advanced and placed a small package on the table. The general opened it +hastily and glanced over its contents.</p> + +<p>"As I thought," he muttered. "You are sure as to the disposition of the +advance?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure of the main features."</p> + +<p>"When did you get in?"</p> + +<p>"Only an hour ago. Their vanguard was close behind. Before noon, I think +they will be upon you in three columns from the different roads."</p> + +<p>"Very well, you may go now. Come to me in half an hour. I shall have +work for you. Who is that with you?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Searle."</p> + +<p>"Of whom we spoke?"</p> + +<p>"The same."</p> + +<p>The general nodded, and Seth left the apartment. Beauregard for a second +scanned Philip's countenance with a searching glance.</p> + +<p>"Approach, sir, if you please. We have little time for words. Have you +information to impart?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing beyond what I think you know already. You may expect at every +moment to hear the boom of McDowell's guns."</p> + +<p>"On the right?"</p> + +<p>"I think the movement will be on your left. Richardson remains on the +southern road, in reserve. Tyler commands the centre. Carlisle, Bicket +and Ayre will give you trouble there with their batteries. Hunter and +Heintzelman, with fourteen thousand, will act upon your left."</p> + +<p>"Then we are wrong, Taylor," said Beauregard, turning to an officer at +his side; and rising, the two conversed for a moment in low but earnest +tone.</p> + +<p>"It is plausible," said Beauregard, at length. "Taylor, ride down to Bee +and see about it. Captain Searle, you will report yourself to Colonel +Hampton at once. He will have orders for you. Captain Weems, you will +please see him provided for. Come, gentlemen, to the field!"</p> + +<p>The general and his staff were soon mounted and riding rapidly toward +the masses and long lines of troops that were marshalling on the plain +below.</p> + +<p>Beverly stood at the doorway alone with Philip Searle. He was grave and +sad, although the bustle and preparation of an expected battle lent a +lustre to his eye. To his companion he was stern and distant, and they +both walked onward for some moments without a word. At a short distance +from the building, they came upon a black groom holding two saddled +horses.</p> + +<p>"Mount, sir, if you please," said Beverly, and they rode forward at a +rapid pace. Philip was somewhat surprised to observe that their course +lay away from the camp, and in fact the sounds of military life were +lessening as they went on. They passed the brow of the hill and +descended by a bridle-path into a little valley, thick with shrubbery +and trees. At the gateway of a pleasant looking cottage Beverly drew +rein.</p> + +<p>"I must ask you to enter here," he said, dismounting. "Within a few +hours we shall both be, probably, in the ranks of battle; but first I +have a duty to perform."</p> + +<p>They entered the cottage, within which all was hushed and still; the +sounds of an active household were not heard. They ascended the little +stair, and Beverly pushed gently open the door of an apartment and +motioned to Philip to enter. He paused at first, for as he stood on the +threshold a low sob reached his ear.</p> + +<p>"Pass in," said Beverly, in a grave, stern tone. "I have promised that I +would bring you, else, be assured, I would not linger in your presence."</p> + +<p>They entered. It was a small, pleasant room, and through the lattice +interwoven with woodbine the rising sun looked in like a friendly +visitor. Upon a bed was stretched the form of a young girl, sleeping or +dead, it would be hard to tell, the features were so placid and +beautiful in repose. One ray of sunlight fell among the tangles of her +golden hair, and glowed like a halo above the marble-white brow. The +long dark lashes rested upon her cheek with a delicate contrast like +that of the velvety moss when it peeps from the new-fallen snow. Her +hands were folded upon her bosom above the white coverlet; they clasped +a lily, that seemed as if sculptured upon a churchyard stone, so white +was the flower, so white the bosom that it pressed. One step nearer +revealed that she was dead; earthly sleep was never so calm and +beautiful. By the bedside Oriana Weems was seated, weeping silently. +She arose when her brother entered, and went to him, putting her hands +about his neck. Beverly tenderly circled his arm about her waist, and +they stood together at the bedside, gazing on all that death had left +upon earth of their young cousin, Miranda.</p> + +<p>"She died this morning very soon after you left," said Oriana, "without +pain and I think without sorrow, for she wore that same sweet smile that +you see now frozen upon her lips. Oh, Beverly, I am sorry you brought +<i>him</i> here!" she added, in a lower tone, glancing with a shudder at +Philip Searle, who stood looking with a frown out at the lattice, and +stopping the sunbeam from coming into the room. "It seems," she +continued, "as if his presence brought a curse that would drag upon the +angels' wings that are bearing her to heaven. Though, thank God, she is +beyond his power to harm her now!" and she knelt beside the pillow and +pressed her lips upon the cold, white brow.</p> + +<p>"She wished to see him, Oriana, before she died," said Beverly, "and I +promised to bring him; and yet I am glad she passed away before his +coming, for I am sure he could bring no peace with him for the dying, +and his presence now is but an insult to the dead."</p> + +<p>When he had spoken, there was silence for a while, which was broken by +the sudden boom of a distant cannon. They all started at the sound, for +it awakened them from mournful memories, to yet perhaps more solemn +thoughts of what was to come before that bright sun should rise upon the +morrow. Beverly turned slowly to where Philip stood, and pointed sternly +at the death-bed.</p> + +<p>"You have seen enough, if you have dared to look at all," he said. "I +have not the power, nor the will, to punish. A soldier's death to-day is +what you can best pray for, that you may not live to think of this +hereafter. She sent for you to forgive you, but died and you are +unforgiven. Bad as you are, I pity you that you must go to battle +haunted by the remembrance of this murder that you have done."</p> + +<p>Philip half turned with an angry curl upon his lip, as if prepared for +some harsh answer; but he saw the white thin face and folded hands, and +left the room without a word.</p> + +<p>"Farewell! dear sister," said Beverly, clasping the weeping girl in his +arms. "I have already overstaid the hour, and must spur hard to be at my +post in time. God bless you! it may be I shall never see you again; if +so, I leave you to God and my country. But I trust all will be well."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Beverly! come back to me, my brother; I am alone in the world +without you. I would not have you swerve from your duty, although death +came with it; but yet, remember that I am alone without you, and be not +rash or reckless. I will watch and pray for you beside this death-bed, +Beverly, while you are fighting, and may God be with you."</p> + +<p>Beverly summoned an old negress to the room, and consigned his sister to +her care. Descending the stairs rapidly, he leaped upon his horse, and +waving his hand to Philip, who was already mounted, they plunged along +the valley, and ascending the crest of the hill, beheld, while they +still spurred on, the vast army in motion before them, while far off in +the vanward, from time to time, the dull, heavy booming of artillery +told that the work was already begun.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>On the evening of the 20th July, Hunter's division, to which Harold Hare +was attached, was bivouacked on the old Braddock Road, about a mile and +a half southeast of Centreville. It was midnight. There was a strange +and solemn hush throughout the camp, broken only by the hail of the +sentinel and the occasional trampling of horses hoofs, as some +aid-de-camp galloped hastily along the line. Some of the troops were +sleeping, dreaming, perhaps, of home, and far away, for the time, from +the thought of the morrow's danger. But most were keeping vigil through +the long hours of darkness, communing with themselves or talking in low +murmurs with some comrade; for each soldier knew that the battle-hour +was at hand. Harold was stretched upon his cloak, striving in vain to +win the boon of an hour's sleep, for he was weary with the toil of the +preceding day; but he could not shut out from his brain the whirl of +excitement and suspense which that night kept so many tired fellows +wakeful when they most needed rest. It was useless to court slumber, on +the eve, perhaps, of his eternal sleep; he arose and walked about into +the night.</p> + +<p>Standing beside the dying embers of a watchfire, wrapped in his blanket, +and gazing thoughtfully into the little drowsy flames that yet curled +about the blackened fagots, was a tall and manly form, which Harold +recognized as that of his companion in arms, a young lieutenant of his +company. He approached, and placed his hand upon his fellow-soldier's +arm.</p> + +<p>"What book of fate are you reading in the ashes, Harry?" he asked, in a +pleasant tone, anxious to dispel some portion of his own and his +comrade's moodiness.</p> + +<p>The soldier turned to him and smiled, but sorrowfully and with effort.</p> + +<p>"My own destiny, perhaps," he answered. "Those ashes were glowing once +with light and warmth, and before the dawn they will be cold, as you or +I may be to-morrow, Harold."</p> + +<p>"I thought you were too old a soldier to nurse such fancies upon the +eve of battle. I must confess that I, who am a novice in this work, am +as restless and nervous as a woman; but you have been seasoned by a +Mexican campaign, and I came to you expressly to be laughed into +fortitude again."</p> + +<p>"You must go on till you meet one more lighthearted than myself," +answered the other, with a sigh. "Ah! Harold, I have none of the old +elasticity about me to-night. I would I were back under my father's +roof, never to hear the roll of the battle-drum again. This is a cruel +war, Harold."</p> + +<p>"A just one."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but cruel. Have you any that you love over yonder, Harold? Any +that are dear to you, and that you must strike at on the morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Harry, that is it. It is, as you say, a cruel war."</p> + +<p>"I have a brother there," continued his companion; and he looked sadly +into the gloom, as if he yearned through the darkness and distance to +catch a glimpse of the well-known form. "A brother that, when I last saw +him, was a little rosy-cheeked boy, and used to ride upon my knee. He +is scarce more than a boy now, and yet he will shoulder his musket +to-morrow, and stand in the ranks perhaps to be cut down by the hand +that has caressed him. He was our mother's darling, and it is a mercy +that she is not living to see us armed against each other."</p> + +<p>"It is a painful thought," said Harold, "and one that you should dismiss +from contemplation. The chances are thousands to one that you will never +meet in battle."</p> + +<p>"I trust the first bullet that will be fired may reach my heart, rather +than that we should. But who can tell? I have a strange, gloomy feeling +upon me; I would say a presentiment, if I were superstitious."</p> + +<p>"It is a natural feeling upon the eve of battle. Think no more of it. +Look how prettily the moon is creeping from under the edge of yonder +cloud. We shall have a bright day for the fight, I think."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's a comfort. One fights all the better in the warm sunlight, +as if to show the bright heavens what bloodthirsty devils we can be upon +occasion. Hark!"</p> + +<p>It was the roll of the drum, startling the stillness of the night; and +presently, the brief, stern orders of the sergeants could be heard +calling the men into the ranks. There is a strange mingled feeling of +awe and excitement in this marshalling of men at night for a dangerous +expedition. The orders are given instinctively in a more subdued and +sterner tone, as if in unison with the solemnity of the hour. The tramp +of marching feet strikes with a more distinct and hollow sound upon the +ear. The dark masses seem to move more compactly, as if each soldier +drew nearer to his comrade for companionship. The very horses, although +alert and eager, seem to forego their prancing, and move with sober +tread. And when the word "forward!" rings along the dark column, and the +long and silent ranks bend and move on as with an electric impulse, +there is a thrill in every vein, and each heart contracts for an +instant, as if the black portals of a terrible destiny were open in the +van.</p> + +<p>A half hour of silent hurry and activity passed away, and at last the +whole army was in motion. It was now three o'clock; the moon shone down +upon the serried ranks, gleaming from bayonet and cannon, and +stretching long black shadows athwart the road. From time to time along +the column could be heard the ringing voice of some commander, as he +galloped to the van, cheering his men with some well-timed allusion, or +dispelling the surrounding gloom with a cheerful promise of victory. +Where the wood road branched from the Warrentown turnpike, Gen. +McDowell, standing in his open carriage, looked down upon the passing +columns, and raised his hat, when the excited soldiers cheered as they +hurried on. Here Hunter's column turned to the right, while the main +body moved straight on to the centre. Then all became more silent than +before, and the light jest passing from comrade to comrade was less +frequent, for each one felt that every step onward brought him nearer to +the foe.</p> + +<p>The eastern sky soon paled into a greyish light, and ruddy streaks +pushed out from the horizon. The air breathed fresher and purer than in +the darkness, and the bright sun, with an advance guard of thin, rosy +clouds, shot upward from the horizon in a blaze of splendor. It was the +Sabbath morn.</p> + +<p>The boom of a heavy gun is heard from the centre. Carlisle has opened +the ball. The day's work is begun. Another! The echoes spring from the +hillsides all around, like a thousand angry tongues that threaten death. +But on the right, no trace of an enemy is to be seen. Burnside's brigade +was in the van; they reached the ford at Sudley's Springs; a momentary +confusion ensues as the column prepares to cross. Soon the men are +pushing boldly through the shallow stream, but the temptation is too +great for their parched throats; they stoop to drink and to fill their +canteens from the cool wave. But as they look up they see a cloud of +dust rolling up from the plain beyond, and their thirst has passed +away—they know that the foe is there.</p> + +<p>An aid comes spurring down the bank, waving his hand and splashing into +the stream.</p> + +<p>"Forward, men! forward!"</p> + +<p>Hunter gallops to meet him, with his staff clattering at his horse's +heels.</p> + +<p>"Break the heads of regiments from the column and push on—push on!"</p> + +<p>The field officers dash along the ranks, and the men spring to their +work, as the word of command is echoed from mouth to mouth.</p> + +<p>Crossing the stream, their course extended for a mile through a thick +wood, but soon they came to the open country, with undulating fields, +rolling toward a little valley through which a brooklet ran. And beyond +that stream, among the trees and foliage which line its bank and extend +in wooded patches southward, the left wing of the enemy are in battle +order.</p> + +<p>From a clump of bushes directly in front, came a puff of white smoke +wreathed with flame; the whir of the hollow ball is heard, and it +ploughs the moist ground a few rods from our advance.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the dull report reverberated, when, in quick succession, a +dozen jets of fire gleamed out, and the shells came plunging into the +ranks. Burnside's brigade was in advance and unsupported, but under the +iron hail the line was formed, and the cry "Forward!" was answered with +a cheer. A long grey line spread out upon the hillside, forming rapidly +from the outskirts of the little wood. It was the Southern infantry, +and soon along their line a deadly fire of musketry was opened.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the heavy firing from the left and further on, announced that +the centre and extreme left were engaged. A detachment of regulars was +sent to Burnside's relief, and held the enemy in check till a portion of +Porter's and Heintzelman's division came up and pressed them back from +their position.</p> + +<p>The battle was fiercely raging in the centre, where the 69th had led the +van and were charging the murderous batteries with the bayonet. We must +leave their deeds to be traced by the historic pen, and confine our +narrative to the scene in which Harold bore a part. The nearest battery, +supported by Carolinians, had been silenced. The Mississippians had +wavered before successive charges, and an Alabama regiment, after four +times hurling back the serried ranks that dashed against them, had +fallen back, outflanked and terribly cut up. On the left was a +farm-house, situated on an elevated ridge a little back from the road. +Within, while the fiercest battle raged, was its solitary inmate, an +aged and bed-ridden lady, whose paralyzed and helpless form was +stretched upon the bed where for fourscore years she had slept the calm +sleep of a Christian. She had sent her attendants from the dwelling to +seek a place of safety, but would not herself consent to be removed, for +she heard the whisper of the angel of death, and chose to meet, him +there in the house of her childhood. For the possession of the hill on +which the building stood, the opposing hosts were hotly struggling. The +fury of the battle seemed to concentre there, and through the time-worn +walls the shot was plunging, splintering the planks and beams, and +shivering the stone foundation. Sherman's battery came thundering up the +hill upon its last desperate advance. Just as the foaming horses were +wheeled upon its summit, the van of Hampton's legion sprang up the +opposite side, and the crack of a hundred rifles simultaneously sounded. +Down fell the cannoneers beside their guns before those deadly missiles, +and the plunging horses were slaughtered in the traces, or, wounded to +the death, lashed out their iron hoofs among the maimed and writhing +soldiers and into the heaps of dead. The battery was captured, but held +only fop an instant, when two companies of Rhode Islanders, led on by +Harold Hare, charged madly up the hill.</p> + +<p>"Save the guns, boys!" he cried, as the gallant fellows bent their heads +low, and sprang up the ascent right in the face of the blazing rifles.</p> + +<p>"Fire low! stand firm! drive them back once again, my brave Virginians!" +shouted a young Southern officer, springing to the foremost rank.</p> + +<p>The mutual fire was delivered almost at the rifles' muzzles, and the +long sword-bayonets clashed together. Without yielding ground, for a few +terrible seconds they thrust and parried with the clanging steel, while +on either side the dead were stiffening beneath their feet, and the +wounded, with shrieks of agony, were clutching at their limbs. Harold +and the young Southron met; their swords clashed together once in the +smoke and dust, and but once, when each drew back and lowered his +weapon, while all around were striking. Then, amid that terrible +discord, their two left hands were pressed together for an instant, and +a low "God bless you!" came from the lips of both.</p> + +<p>"To the right, Beverly, keep you to the right!" said Harold, and he +himself, straight through the hostile ranks, sprang in an opposite +direction.</p> + +<p>When Harold's party had first charged up the hill, the young lieutenant +with whom he had conversed beside the watch-fire on the previous +evening, was at the head of his platoon, and as the two bodies met, he +sent the last shot from his revolver full in the faces of the foremost +rank. So close were they, that the victim of that shot, struck in the +centre of the forehead, tottered forward, and fell into his arms. There +was a cry of horror that pierced even above the shrieks of the wounded +and the yells of the fierce combatants. One glance at that fair, +youthful face sufficed;—it was his brother—dead in his arms, dead by a +brother's hand. The yellow hair yet curled above the temples, but the +rosy bloom upon the cheek was gone; already the ashen hue of death was +there. There was a small round hole just where the golden locks waved +from the edge of the brow, and from it there slowly welled a single +globule of black gore. It left the face undisfigured—pale, but tranquil +and undistorted as a sleeping child's—not even a clot of blood was +there to mar its beauty. The strong and manly soldier knelt upon the +dust, and holding the dead boy with both arms clasped about his waist, +bent his head low down upon the lifeless bosom, and gasped with an agony +more terrible than that which the death-wound gives.</p> + +<p>"Charley! Oh God! Charley! Charley!" was all that came from his white +lips, and he sat there like stone, with the corpse in his arms, still +murmuring "Charley!" unconscious that blades were flashing and bullets +whistling around him. The blood streamed from his wounds, the bayonets +were gleaming round, and once a random shot ploughed into his thigh and +shivered the bone. He only bent a little lower and his voice was +fainter; but still he murmured "Charley! Oh God! Charley," and never +unfolded his arms from its embrace. And there, when the battle was over, +the Southrons found him, dead—with his dead brother in his arms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<p>At the door-way of the building on the hill, where the aged invalid was +yielding her last breath amid the roar of battle, a wounded officer sat +among the dying and the dead, while the conflict swept a little away +from that quarter of the field. The blood was streaming from the +shattered bosom, and feebly he strove to staunch it with his silken +scarf. He had dragged himself through gore and dust until he reached +that spot, and now, rising again with a convulsive effort, he leaned his +red hands against the wall, and entered over the fragments of the door, +which had been shivered by a shell. With tottering steps he passed along +the hall and up the little stairway, as one who had been familiar with +the place. Before the door of the aged lady's chamber he paused a moment +and listened; all was still there, although the terrible tumult of the +battle was sounding all around. He entered; he advanced to the +bed-side; the dying woman was murmuring a prayer. A random shot had torn +the shrivelled flesh upon her bosom and the white counterpane was +stained with blood. She did not see him—her thoughts were away from +earth, she was already seeking communion with the spirits of the blest. +The soldier knelt by that strange death-bed and leaned his pale brow +upon the pillow.</p> + +<p>"Mother!"</p> + +<p>How strangely the word sounded amid the shouts of combatants and the din +of war. It was like a good angel's voice drowning the discords of hell.</p> + +<p>"Mother!"</p> + +<p>She heard not the cannon's roar, but that one word, scarce louder than +the murmur of a dreaming infant, reached her ear. The palsied head was +turned upon the pillow and the light of life returned to her glazing +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Who speaks?" she gasped, while her thin hands were tremulously clasped +together with emotion.</p> + +<p>"'Tis I, mother. Philip, your son."</p> + +<p>"Philip, my son!" and the nerveless form, that had scarce moved for +years, was raised upon the bed by the last yearning effort of a mother's +love.</p> + +<p>"Is it you, Philip, is it you, indeed? I can scarce see your form, but +surely I have heard the voice of my boy;—my long absent boy. Oh! +Philip! why have I not heard it oftener to comfort my old age?"</p> + +<p>"I am dying, mother. I have been a bad son and a guilty man. But I am +dying, mother. Oh! I am punished for my sin! The avenging bullet struck +me down at the gate of the home I had deserted—the home I have made +desolate to you. Mother, I have crawled here to die."</p> + +<p>"To die! O God! your hand is cold—or is it but the chill of death upon +my own? Oh! I had thought to have said farewell to earth forever, but +yet let me linger but a little while, O Lord! if but to bless my son." +She sank exhausted upon the pillow, but yet clasped the gory fingers of +the dying man.</p> + +<p>"Philip, are you there? Let me hear your voice. I hear strange murmurs +afar off; but not the voice of my son. Are you there, Philip, are you +there?"</p> + +<p>Philip Searle was crouching lower and lower by the bed-side, and his +forehead, upon which the dews of death were starting, lay languidly +beside the thin, white locks that rested on the pillow.</p> + +<p>"Look, mother!" he said, raising his head and glaring into the corner of +the room. "Do you see that form in white?—there—she with the pale +cheeks and golden hair! I saw her once before to-day, when she lay +stretched upon the bed, with a lily in her white fingers. And once again +I saw her in that last desperate charge, when the bullet struck my side. +And now she is there again, pale, motionless, but smiling. Does she +smile in mockery or forgiveness? I could rather bear a frown than that +terrible—that frozen smile. O God! she is coming to me, mother, she is +coming to me—she will lay her cold hand upon me. No—it is not she! it +is Moll—look, mother, it is Moll, all blackened with smoke and seared +with living fire. O God! how terrible! But, mother, I did not do that. +When I saw the flames afar off, I shuddered, for I knew how it must be. +But I did not do it, Moll, by my lost soul, I did not!" He started to +his feet with a convulsive effort. The hot blood spurted from his wound +with the exertion and spattered upon the face and breast of his +mother—but she felt it not, for she was dead. The last glimmering ray +of reason seemed to drive away the phantoms. He turned toward those +sharp and withered features, he saw the fallen jaw and lustreless glazed +eye. A shudder shook his frame at every point, and with a groan of pain +and terror, he fell forward upon the corpse—a corpse himself.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<p>The Federal troops, with successive charges, had now pushed the enemy +from their first position, and the torn battalions were still being +hurled against the batteries that swept their ranks. The excellent +generalship of the Confederate leaders availed itself of the valor and +impetuosity of their assailants to lure them, by consecutive advance and +backward movement, into the deadly range of their well planted guns. It +was then that, far to the right, a heavy column could be seen moving +rapidly in the rear of the contending hosts. Was it a part of Hunter's +division that had turned the enemy's rear? Such was the thought at +first, and with the delusion triumphant cheers rang from the parched +throats of the weary Federals. They were soon to be undeceived. The +stars and bars flaunted amid those advancing ranks, and the constant +yells of the Confederates proclaimed the truth. Johnston was pouring his +fresh troops upon the battle-field. The field was lost, but still was +struggled for in the face of hope. It was now late in the afternoon, and +the soldiers, exhausted with their desperate exertions, fought on, +doggedly, but without that fiery spirit which earlier in the day had +urged them to the cannon's mouth. There was a lull in the storm of +carnage, the brief pause that precedes the last terrific fury of the +tempest. The Confederates were concentrating their energies for a +decisive effort. It came. From the woods that skirted the left centre of +their position, a squadron of horsemen came thundering down upon our +columns. Right down upon Carlisle's battery they rode, slashing the +cannoneers and capturing the guns. Then followed their rushing ranks of +infantry, and full upon our flank swooped down another troop of cavalry, +dashing into the road where the baggage-train had been incautiously +advanced. Our tired and broken regiments were scattered to the right and +left. In vain a few devoted officers spurred among them, and called on +them to rally; they broke from the ranks in every quarter of the field, +and rushed madly up the hillsides and into the shelter of the trees. +The magnificent army that had hailed the rising sun with hopes of +victory was soon pouring along the road in inextricable confusion and +disorderly retreat. Foot soldier and horseman, field-piece and wagon, +caisson and ambulance, teamster and cannoneer, all were mingled together +and rushing backward from the field they had half won, with their backs +to the pursuing foe. That rout has been traced, to our shame, in +history; the pen of the novelist shuns the disgraceful theme.</p> + +<p>Harold, although faint with loss of blood, which oozed from a +flesh-wound in his shoulder, was among the gallant few who strove to +stem the ebbing current; struck at last by a spent ball in the temple, +he fell senseless to the ground. He would have been trampled upon and +crushed by the retreating column, had not a friendly hand dragged him +from the road to a little mound over which spread the branches of an +oak. Here he was found an hour afterward by a body of Confederate troops +and lifted into an ambulance with others wounded and bleeding like +himself.</p> + +<p>While the vehicle, with its melancholy freight, was being slowly +trailed over the scene of the late battle, Harold partially recovered +his benumbed senses. He lay there as in a dream, striving to recall +himself to consciousness of his position. He felt the dull throbbing +pain upon his brow and the stinging sensation in his shoulder, and knew +that he was wounded, but whether dangerously or not he could not judge. +He could feel the trickling of blood from the bosom of a wounded comrade +at his side, and could hear the groans of another whose thigh was +shattered by the fragment of a shell; but the situation brought no +feeling of repugnance, for he was yet half stunned and lay as in a +lethargy, wishing only to drain one draught of water and then to sleep. +The monotonous rumbling of the ambulance wheels sounded distinctly upon +his ear, and he could listen, with a kind of objectless curiosity, to +the casual conversation of the driver, as he exchanged words here and +there with others, who were returning upon the same dismal errand from +the scene of carnage. The shadows of night spread around him, covering +the field of battle like a pall flung in charity by nature over the +corpses of the slain. Then his bewildered fancies darkened with the +surrounding gloom, and he thought that he was coffined and in a hearse, +being dragged to the graveyard to be buried. He put forth his hand to +push the coffin lid, but it fell again with weakness, and when his +fingers came in contact with the splintered bone that protruded from his +neighbor's thigh, and he felt the warm gushing of the blood that welled +with each throb of the hastily bound artery, he puzzled his dreamy +thoughts to know what it might mean. At last all became a blank upon his +brain, and he relapsed once more into unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>And so, from dreamy wakefulness to total oblivion he passed to and fro, +without an interval to part the real from the unreal. He was conscious +of being lifted into the arms of men, and being borne along carefully by +strong arms. Whither? It seemed to his dull senses that they were +bearing him into a sepulchre, but he was not terrified, but careless and +resigned; or if he thought of it at all, it was to rejoice that when +laid there, he should be undisturbed. Presently a vague fancy passed +athwart his mind, that perhaps the crawling worms would annoy him, and +he felt uneasy, but yet not afraid. Afterward, there was a sensation of +quiet and relief, and his brain, for a space, was in repose. Then a +bright form bent over him, and he thought it was an angel. He could feel +a soft hand brushing the dampness from his brow, and fingers, whose +light touch soothed him, parting his clotted hair. The features grew +more distinct, and it pleased him to look upon them, although he strove +in vain to fix them in his memory, until a tear-drop fell upon his +cheek, and recalled his wandering senses; then he knew that Oriana was +bending over him and weeping.</p> + +<p>He was in the cottage where Beverly had last parted from his sister; not +in the same room, for they feared to place him there, where Miranda was +lying in a shroud, with a coffin by her bed-side, lest the sad spectacle +should disturb him when he woke. But he lay upon a comfortable bed in +another room, and Beverly and Oriana stood beside, while the surgeon +dressed his wounds.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>No need to say that Harold was well cared for by his two friendly foes. +Beverly had given his personal parole for his safe keeping, and he was +therefore free from all surveillance or annoyance on that score. His +wounds were not serious, although the contusion on the temple, which, +however, had left the skull uninjured, occasioned some uneasiness at +first. But the third day he was able to leave his bed, and with his arm +in a sling, sat comfortably in an easy-chair, and conversed freely with +his two excellent nurses.</p> + +<p>"Did Beverly tell you of Arthur's imprisonment?" he asked of Oriana, +breaking a pause in the general conversation.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, looking down, with a scarcely perceptible blush +upon her cheek. "Poor Arthur! Yours is a cruel government, Harold, that +would make traitors of such men. His noble heart would not harbor a +dangerous thought, much less a traitorous design."</p> + +<p>"I think with you," said Harold. "There is some strange mistake, which +we must fathom. I received his letter only the day preceding the battle. +Had there been no immediate prospect of an engagement, I would have +asked a furlough, and have answered it in person. I have small reason to +regret my own imprisonment," he added, "my jailers are so kind; yet I do +regret it for his sake."</p> + +<p>"You know that we are powerless to help him," said Beverly, "or even to +shorten your captivity, since your government will not exchange with us. +However, you must write, both to Arthur and to Mr. Lincoln, and I will +use my best interest with the general to have your letters sent on with +a flag."</p> + +<p>"I know that you will do all in your power, and I trust that my +representations may avail with the government, for I judge from Arthur's +letter that he is not well, although he makes no complaint. He is but +delicate at the best, and what with the effects of his late injuries, I +fear that the restraint of a prison may go ill with him."</p> + +<p>"How unnatural is this strife that makes us sorrow for our foes no less +than for our friends?" said Oriana. "I seem to be living in a strange +clime, and in an age that has passed away. And how long can friendship +endure this fiery ordeal? How many scenes of carnage like this last +terrible one can afflict the land, without wiping away all trace of +brotherhood, and leaving in the void the seed of deadly hate?"</p> + +<p>"If this repulse," said Beverly, "which your arms have suffered so early +in the contest, will awaken the North to a sense of the utter futility +of their design of subjugation, the blood that flowed at Manassas will +not have been shed in vain."</p> + +<p>"No, not in vain," replied Harold, "but its fruits will be other than +you anticipate. The North will be awakened, but only to gird up its +loins and put forth its giant strength. The shame of that one defeat +will be worth to us hereafter a hundred victories. The North has +been smitten in its sleep; it will arouse from its lethargy like a lion +awakening under the smart of the hunter's spear. Beverly, base no vain +hopes upon the triumph of the hour; it seals your doom, for it serves +but to throw into the scale against you the aroused energies that till +now have been withheld."</p> + +<p>"You count upon your resources, Harold, like a purse-proud millionaire, +who boasts his bursting coffers. We depend rather upon our determined +hearts and resolute right hands. Upon our power to endure, greater than +yours to inflict, reverse. Upon our united people, and the spirit that +animates them, which can never be subdued. The naked Britons could +defend their native soil against Caesar's legions, the veterans of a +hundred fights. Shall we do less, who have already tasted the fruits of +liberty so dearly earned? Harold, your people have assumed an impossible +task, and you may as well go cast your treasures into the sea as +squander them in arms to smite your kith and kin. We are Americans, like +yourselves; and when you confess that <i>you</i> can be conquered by invading +armies, then dream of conquering us."</p> + +<p>"And we will startle you from your dream with the crack of our Southern +rifles," added Oriana, somewhat maliciously, while Harold smiled at her +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"There is a great deal of romance in both your natures," he replied. +"But it is not so good as powder for a fighting medium. The spirit you +boast of will not support you long without the aid of good round +dollars."</p> + +<p>"Thank heaven we have less faith in their efficacy than you Northern +gold-worshippers," observed Oriana, with playful sarcasm. "While our +soldiers have good round corn-cakes, they will ask for no richer metals +than lead and steel. Have you never heard of the regiment of +Mississippians, who, having received their pay in government +certificates, to a man tore up the documents as they took up the line of +march, saying 'we do not fight for money?'"</p> + +<p>Harold smiled, thinking perhaps that nothing better could have been done +with the currency in question.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Beverly, "you are far out of the way in your estimate of +our resources. The South is strictly an agricultural country, and as +such, best able to support itself under the exhaustion consequent upon a +lengthened warfare, especially as it will remain in the attitude of +resistance to invasion. From the bosom of its prolific soil it can draw +its natural nourishment and retain its vigor throughout any period of +isolation, while you are draining your resources for the means of +providing an active aggressive warfare. The rallying of our white +population to the battle field will not interrupt the course of +agricultural pursuit, while every enlistment in the North will take one +man away from the tillage of the land or from some industrial +avocation."</p> + +<p>"Not so," replied Harold. "Our armies for the most part will be +recruited from the surplus population, and abundant hands will remain +behind for the purposes of industry."</p> + +<p>"At first, perhaps. But not after a few more such fields as were fought +on Sunday last. To carry out even a show of your project of subjugation, +you must keep a million of men in the field from year to year. Your +manufacturing interests will be paralyzed, your best customers shut out. +You will be spending enormously and producing little beyond the +necessities of consumption. We, on the contrary, will be producing as +usual, and spending little more than before."</p> + +<p>"Can your armies be fed, clothed, and equipped without expense?"</p> + +<p>"No. But all our means will be applied to military uses, and our +operations will be necessarily much less expensive than yours. In other +matters, we will forget our habits of extravagance. We will become, by +the law of necessity, economists in place of spendthrifts. We will +gather in rich harvests, but will stint ourselves to the bare +necessities of life, that our troops may be fed and clothed. The money +that our wealthy planters have been in the habit of spending yearly in +Northern cities and watering places, will be circulated at home. Some +fifty millions of Southern dollars, heretofore annually wasted in +fashionable dissipation, will thus be kept in our own pockets and out of +yours. The spendthrift sons of our planters, and their yet more +extravagant daughters, will be found studying economy in the rude school +of the soldier, and plying the needle to supply the soldiers' wants, in +place of drawing upon the paternal estates for frivolous enjoyments. Our +spending population will be on the battle-field, and the laborer will +remain in the cotton and corn-field. There will be suffering and +privation, it is true, but rest assured, Harold, we will bear it all +without a murmur, as our fathers did in the days of '76. And we will +trust to the good old soil we are defending to give us our daily bread."</p> + +<p>"Or if it should not," said Oriana, "we can at least claim from it, each +one, a grave, over which the foot of the invader may trample, but not +over our living bodies."</p> + +<p>"I have no power to convince you of your error," answered Harold. "Let +us speak of it no more, since it is destined that the sword must decide +between us. Beverly, you promised that I should go visit my wounded +comrades, who have not yet been removed. Shall we go now? I think it +would do me good to breathe the air."</p> + +<p>They prepared for the charitable errand, and Oriana went with them, with +a little basket of delicacies for the suffering prisoners.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was a fair morning in August, the twentieth day after the eventful +21st of July. Beverly was busy with his military duties, and Harold, who +had already fully recovered from his wounds, was enjoying, in company +with Oriana, a pleasant canter over the neighboring country. They came +to where the rolling meadow subsided into a level plain of considerable +extent on either side of the road. At its verge a thick forest formed a +dark background, beyond which the peering summits of green hills showed +that the landscape was rugged and uneven. Oriana slackened her pace, and +pointed out over the broad expanse of level country.</p> + +<p>"You see this plain that stretches to our right and left?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," replied Harold.</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I want you to mark it well," she continued, with a significant +glance; "and also that stretch of woodland yonder, beyond which, you +see, the country rises again."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a wild country, I should judge, like that to the left, where we +fought your batteries a month ago."</p> + +<p>"It is, indeed, a wild country as you say. There are ravines there, and +deep glens, fringed with almost impenetrable shrubbery, and deep down in +these recesses flows many a winding water-course, lined and overarched +with twisted foliage. Are you skillful at threading a woodland +labyrinth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; my surveying expeditions have schooled me pretty well. Why do you +ask? Do you want me to guide you through the wilderness, in search of a +hermit's cave."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps; women have all manner of caprices, you know. But I want you to +pay attention to those landmarks. Over yonder, there are some nooks that +would do well to hide a runaway. I have explored some of them myself, +for I passed some months here formerly, before the war. Poor Miranda's +family resided once in the little cottage where we are stopping now. +That is why I came from Richmond to spend a few days and be with +Beverly. I little thought that my coming would bring me to Miranda's +death-bed. Look there, now: you have a better view of where the forest +ascends into the hilly ground."</p> + +<p>"Why are you so topographical to-day? One would think you were tempting +me to run away," said Harold, smiling, as he followed her pointing +finger with his eyes.</p> + +<p>"No; I know you would not do that, because Beverly, you know, has +pledged himself for your safe-keeping."</p> + +<p>"Very true; and I am therefore a closer prisoner than if I were loaded +down with chains. When do you return to Richmond?"</p> + +<p>"I shall return on the day after to-morrow. Beverly has been charged +with an important service, and will be absent for several weeks. But he +can procure your parole, if you wish, and you can come to the old +manor-house again."</p> + +<p>"I think I shall not accept parole," replied Harold, thoughtfully. "I +must escape, if possible, for Arthur's sake. Beverly, of course, will +release himself from all obligations about me, before he goes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow; but you will be strictly guarded, unless you give +parole. See here, I have a little present for you; it is not very +pretty, but it is useful."</p> + +<p>She handed him a small pocket-compass, set in a brass case.</p> + +<p>"You can have this too," she added, drawing a small but strong and sharp +poignard from her bosom. "But you must promise me never to use it except +to save your life?"</p> + +<p>"I will promise that cheerfully," said Harold, as he received the +precious gifts.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow we will ride out again. We will have the same horses that +bear us so bravely now. Do you note how strong and well-bred is the +noble animal you ride?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harold, patting the glorious arch of his steed's neck. "He's +a fine fellow, and fleet, I warrant."</p> + +<p>"Fleet as the winds. There are few in this neighborhood that can match +him. Let us go home now. You need not tell Beverly that I have given you +presents. And be ready to ride to-morrow at four o'clock precisely."</p> + +<p>He understood her thoroughly, and they cantered homeward, conversing +upon indifferent subjects and reverting no further to their previous +somewhat enigmatical theme.</p> + +<p>On the following afternoon, at four o'clock precisely, the horses were +at the door, and five minutes afterward a mounted officer, followed by +two troopers, galloped up the lane and drew rein at the gateway.</p> + +<p>Harold was arranging the girths of Oriana's saddle, and she herself was +standing in her riding-habit beside the porch. The officer, dismounting, +approached her and raised his cap in respectful salute. He was young and +well-looking, evidently one accustomed to polite society.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Captain Haralson," said Oriana, with her most gracious +smile. "I am very glad to see you, although, as you bring your military +escort, I presume you come to see Beverly upon business, and not for the +friendly visit you promised me. But Beverly is not here."</p> + +<p>"I left him at the camp on duty, Miss Weems," replied the captain. "It +is my misfortune that my own duties have been too strict of late to +permit me the pleasure of my contemplated visit."</p> + +<p>"I must bide my time, captain. Let me introduce my friend. Captain Hare, +our prisoner, Mr. Haralson; but I know you will help me to make him +forget it, when I tell you that he was my brother's schoolmate and is +our old and valued friend."</p> + +<p>The young officer took Harold frankly by the hand, but he looked grave +and somewhat disconcerted as he answered:</p> + +<p>"Captain Hare, as a soldier, will forgive me that my duty compels me to +play a most ungracious part upon our first acquaintance. I have orders +to return with him to headquarters, where I trust his acceptance of +parole will enable me to avail myself of your introduction to show him +what courtesy our camp life admits, in atonement for the execution of my +present unpleasant devoir."</p> + +<p>"I shall esteem your acquaintance the more highly," answered Harold, +"that you know so well to blend your soldiership with kindness. I am +entirely at your disposition, sir, having only to apologize to Miss +Weems for the deprivation of her contemplated ride."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, we must not lose our ride," said Oriana. "It is perhaps the +last we shall enjoy together, and such a lovely afternoon. I am sure +that Captain Haralson is too gallant to interrupt our excursion."</p> + +<p>She turned to him with an arch smile, but he looked serious as he +replied:</p> + +<p>"Alas! Miss Weems, our gallantry receives some rude rebuffs in the harsh +school of the soldier. It grieves me to mar your harmless recreation, +but even that mortification I must endure when it comes in the strict +line of my duty."</p> + +<p>"But your duty does not forbid you to take a canter with us this +charming afternoon. Now put away that military sternness, which does not +become you at all, and help me to mount my pretty Nelly, who is getting +impatient to be off. And so am I. Come, you will get into camp in due +season, for we will go only as far as the Run, and canter all the way."</p> + +<p>She took his arm, and he assisted her to the saddle, won into +acquiescence by her graceful obstinacy, and, in fact, seeing but little +harm the tufted hills rolled into one another like the waves of a +swelling sea, their crests tipped with the slant rays of the descending +sun, and their graceful slopes alternating among purple shadows and +gleams of floating light.</p> + +<p>"It is indeed so beautiful," answered Harold, "that I should deem you +might be content to live there as of old, without inviting the terrible +companionship of Mars."</p> + +<p>"We do not invite it," said the young captain. "Leave us in peaceful +possession of our own, and no war cries shall echo among those hills. If +Mars has driven his chariot into our homes, he comes at your bidding, an +unwelcome intruder, to be scourged back again."</p> + +<p>"At our bidding! No. The first gun that was fired at Sumter summoned +him, and if he should leave his foot-prints deep in your soil, you have +well earned the penalty."</p> + +<p>"It will cost you, to inflict it, many such another day's work as that +at Manassas a month ago."</p> + +<p>The taunt was spoken hastily, and the young Southron colored as if +ashamed of his discourtesy, and added:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me my ungracious speech. It was my first field, sir, and I am +wont to speak of it too boastingly. I shall become more modest, I hope, +when I shall have a better right to be a boaster."</p> + +<p>"Oh," replied Harold, "I admit the shame of our discomfiture, and take +it as a good lesson to our negligence and want of purpose. But all that +has passed away. One good whipping has awakened us to an understanding +of the work we have in hand. Henceforth we will apply ourselves to the +task in earnest."</p> + +<p>"You think, then, that your government will prosecute the war more +vigorously than before?"</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly. You have heard but the prelude of a gale that shall sweep +every vestige of treason from the land."</p> + +<p>"Let it blow on," said the Southron, proudly. "There will be +counter-blasts to meet it. You cannot raise a tempest that will make us +bow our heads."</p> + +<p>"Do you not think," interrupted Oriana, "that a large proportion of your +Northern population are ready at least to listen to terms of +separation?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Harold, firmly. "Or if there be any who entertain such +thoughts, we will make them outcasts among us, and the finger of scorn +will be pointed at them as recreant to their holiest duty."</p> + +<p>"That is hardly fair," said Oriana. "Why should you scorn or maltreat +those who honestly believe that the doctrine in support of which so many +are ready to stake their lives and their fortunes, may be worthy of +consideration? Do you believe us all mad and wicked people in the +South—people without hearts, and without brains, incapable of forming +an opinion that is worth an argument? If there are some among you who +think we are acting for the best, and Heaven knows we are acting with +sincerity, you should give them at least a hearing, for the sake of +liberty of conscience. Remember, there are millions of us united in +sentiment in the South, and millions, perhaps, abroad who think with us. +How can you decide by your mere impulses where the right lies?"</p> + +<p>"We decide by the promptings of our loyal hearts, and by our reason, +which tells us that secession is treason, and that treason must be +crushed."</p> + +<p>"Heart and brain have been mistaken ere now," returned Oriana. "But if +you are a type of your countrymen, I see that hard blows alone will +teach you that God has given us the right to think for ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe, then," asked Haralson, "that there can be no peace +between us until one side or the other shall be exhausted and subdued?"</p> + +<p>"Not so," replied Harold. "I think that when we have retrieved the +disgrace of Bull Run and given you in addition, some wholesome +chastisement, your better judgment will return to you, and you will +accept forgiveness at our hands and return to your allegiance."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken," said the Southron. "Even were we ready to accept +your terms, you would not be ready to grant them. Should the North +succeed in striking some heavy blow at the South, I will tell you what +will happen; your abolitionists will seize the occasion of the peoples' +exultation to push their doctrine to a consummation. Whenever you shall +hear the tocsin of victory sounding in the North, then listen for the +echoing cry of emancipation—for you will hear it. You will see it in +every column of your daily prints; you will hear your statesmen urging +it in your legislative halls, and your cabinet ministers making it their +theme. And, most dangerous of all, you will hear your generals and +colonels, demagogues, at heart, and soldiers only of occasion, preaching +it to their battalions, and making converts of their subordinates by the +mere influences of their rank and calling. And when your military +chieftains harangue their soldiers upon political themes, think not of +our treason as you call it, but look well to the political freedom that +is still your own. With five hundred thousand armed puppets, moving at +the will of a clique of ambitious epauletted politicians and +experimentalists, you may live to witness, whether we be subdued or not, +a <i>coup d'etat</i> for which there is a precedent not far back in the +annals of republics."</p> + +<p>"Have you already learned to contemplate the danger that you are +incurring? Do you at last fear the monster that you have nursed and +strengthened in your midst? Well, if your slaves should rise against +you, surely you cannot blame us for the evil of your own creation."</p> + +<p>"It is the hope of your abolitionists, not our fear, that I am +rehearsing. Should your armies obtain a foothold on our soil, we know +that you will put knives and guns into the hands of our slaves, and +incite them to emulate the deeds of their race in San Domingo. You will +parcel out our lands and wealth to your victorious soldiery, not so much +as a reward for their past services, but to seal the bond between them +and the government that will seek to rule by their bayonets. You see, we +know the peril and are prepared to meet it. Should you conquer us, at +the same time you would conquer the liberties of the Northern citizen. +You will be at the mercy of the successful general whose triumph may +make him the idol of the armed millions that alone can accomplish our +subjugation. In the South, butchery and rapine by hordes of desperate +negroes—in the North anarchy and political intrigue, to be merged into +dictatorship and the absolutism of military power. Such would be the +results of your triumph and our defeat."</p> + +<p>"Those are the visions of a heated brain," said Harold. "I must confess +that your fighting is better than your logic. There is no danger to our +country that the loyalty of its people cannot overcome—as it will your +rebellion."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>They had now approached the edge of the plain which Oriana had pointed +out on the preceding day. The sun, which had been tinging the western +sky with gorgeous hues, was peering from among masses of purple and +golden clouds, within an hour's space of the horizon. Captain Haralson, +interested and excited by his disputation, had been riding leisurely +along by the side of his prisoner, taking but little note of the route +or of the lapse of time.</p> + +<p>"Cease your unprofitable argument," cried Oriana, "and let us have a +race over this beautiful plain. Look! 'tis as smooth as a race-course, +and I will lay you a wager, Captain Haralson, that my Nelly will lead +you to yonder clump, by a neck."</p> + +<p>She touched her horse lightly with the whip, and turned from the road +into the meadows.</p> + +<p>"It is late, Miss Weems," said the Southron, "and I must report at +headquarters before sundown. Besides, I am badly mounted, and it would +be but a sorry victory to distance me. I pray you, let us return."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Nelly is not breathed. I must have one fair run over this +field; and, gentlemen, I challenge you both to outstrip Nelly if you +can."</p> + +<p>With a merry shout, she struck the fleet mare smartly on the flank, and +the spirited animal, more at the sound of her voice than aroused by the +whip-lash, stretched forward her neck and sprang over the tufted level. +Harold waved his hand, as if in invitation, to his companion, and was +soon urging his powerful horse in the same direction. Haralson shouted +to them to stop, but they only turned their heads and beckoned to him +gaily, and plunging the spurs into the strong but heavy-hoofed charger +that he rode, he followed them as best he could. He kept close in their +rear very well at first, but he soon observed that he was losing +distance, and that the two swift steeds in front, that had been held in +check a little at the start, were now skimming the smooth meadow at a +tremendous pace.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" he cried, at the top of his lungs; but either they heard it not +or heeded it not, for they still swept on, bending low forward in the +saddle, almost side by side.</p> + +<p>A vague suspicion crossed his mind.</p> + +<p>"Halt, there!"</p> + +<p>Oriana glanced over her shoulder, and could see a sunray gleaming from +something that he held in his right hand. He had drawn a pistol from his +holster. She slackened her pace a little, and allowing Harold to take +the lead, rode on in the line between him and the pursuer. Harold turned +in his saddle. She could hear the tones of his voice rushing past her on +the wind.</p> + +<p>"Come no further with me, lest suspicion attach to yourself. The good +horse will bear me beyond pursuit. Remember, it is for Arthur's sake I +have consented you should make this sacrifice. God bless you! and +farewell!"</p> + +<p>A pistol-shot resounded in the air. Oriana knew it was fired but to +intimidate—the distance was too great to give the leaden messenger a +deadlier errand. Yet she drew rein, and waited, breathless with +excitement and swift motion, till Haralson came up. He turned one +reproachful glance upon her as he passed, and spurred on in pursuit. +Harold turned once again, to assure himself that she was unhurt, then +waved his hand, and urging his swift steed to the utmost, sped on toward +the forest which was now close at hand. The two troopers soon came +galloping up to where Oriana still sat motionless upon her saddle, +watching the race with strained eyes and heaving bosom.</p> + +<p>"Your prisoner has escaped," she said; "spur on in pursuit."</p> + +<p>She knew that it was of no avail, for Harold had already disappeared +among the mazes of the wood, and the sun was just dipping below the +horizon. Darkness would soon shroud the fugitive in its friendly mantle. +She turned Nelly's head homeward, and cantered silently away in the +gathering twilight.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>When Captain Haralson and the two troopers reached the verge of the +forest, they could trace for a short distance the hoof-prints of +Harold's horse, and followed them eagerly among the labyrinthine paths +which the fugitive had made through the tangled shrubbery and among the +briery thickets. But soon the gloom of night closed in upon them in the +depth of the silent wood, and they were left without a sign by which to +direct the pursuit. It was near midnight when they reached the further +edge of the forest, and there, throwing fantastic gleams of red light +among the shadows of the tall trees, they caught sight of what seemed to +be the glimmer of a watchfire. Soon after, the growl of a hound was +heard, followed by a deep-mouthed bay, and approaching cautiously, they +were hailed by the watchful sentinel. It was a Confederate picket, +posted on the outskirt of the forest, and Haralson, making himself +known, rode up to where the party, awakened by their approach, had +roused themselves from their blankets, and were standing with ready +rifles beside the blazing fagots.</p> + +<p>Haralson made known his errand to the officer in command, and the +sentries were questioned, but all declared that nothing had disturbed +their watch; if the fugitive had passed their line, he had succeeded in +eluding their vigilance.</p> + +<p>"I must send one of my men back to camp to report the escape," said +Haralson, "and will ask you to spare me a couple of your fellows to help +me hunt the Yankee down. Confound him, I deserve to lose my epaulettes +for my folly, but I'll follow him to the Potomac, rather than return to +headquarters without him."</p> + +<p>"Who was it?" asked the officer; "was he of rank?"</p> + +<p>"A captain, Captain Hare, well named for his fleetness; but he was +mounted superbly, and I suspect the whole thing was cut and dried."</p> + +<p>"Hare?" cried a hoarse voice; and the speaker, a tall, lank man, who had +been stretched by the fire, with the head of a large, gaunt bloodhound +in his lap, rose suddenly and stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Harold Hare, by G—d!" he exclaimed; "I know the fellow. Captain, I'm +with you on this hunt, and Bully there, too, who is worth the pair of +us. Hey, Bully?"</p> + +<p>The dog stretched himself lazily, and lifted his heavy lip with a grin +above the formidable fangs that glistened in the gleam of the watchfire.</p> + +<p>"You may go," said his officer, "but I can't spare another. You three, +with the dog, will be enough. Rawbon's as good a man as you can get, +captain. Set a thief to catch a thief, and a Yankee to outwit a Yankee. +You'd better start at once, unless you need rest or refreshment."</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied Haralson. "Let your man put something into his +haversack. Good night, lieutenant. Come along, boys, and keep your eyes +peeled, for these Yankees are slippery eels, you know."</p> + +<p>Seth Rawbon had already bridled his horse that was grazing hard by, and +the party, with the hound close at his master's side, rode forth upon +their search.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Harold had perceived the watchfire an hour earlier than his pursuers, +having obtained thus much the advantage of them by the fleetness of his +steed. He moved well off to the right, riding slowly and cautiously, +until another faint glimmer in that direction gave him to understand +that he was about equi-distant between two pickets of the enemy. He +dismounted at the edge of the forest, and securing his steed to the +branch of a tree, crept forward a few paces beyond the shelter of the +wood, and looked about earnestly in the darkness. Nothing could be seen +but the long, straggling line of the forest losing itself in the gloom, +and the black outlines, of the hills before him; but his quick ear +detected the sound of coming hoof and the ringing of steel scabbards. A +patrol was approaching, and fearful that his horse, conscious of the +neighborhood of his kind, might betray his presence with a sign of +recognition, he hurried back, and standing beside the animal, caressed +his glossy neck and won his attention with the low murmurs of his voice. +The good steed remained silent, only pricking up his ears and peering +through the branches as the patrol went clattering by. Harold waited +till the trampling of hoofs died away in the distance, and judging, from +their riding on without a challenge or a pause, that there was no sentry +within hail, he mounted and rode boldly out into the open country. The +stars were mostly obscured by heavy clouds, but here and there was a +patch of clear blue sky, and his eye, practised with many a surveying +night-tramp, discovered at last a twinkling guide by which to shape his +path in a northerly direction. It was a wild, rough country over which +he passed. With slow and careful steps, his sagacious steed moved on, +obedient to the rein, at one time topping the crest of a rugged hill, +and then winding at a snail's pace down the steep declivity, or +following the tortuous course of the streamlet through deep ravines, +whose jagged and bush-clad sides frowned down upon them on either side, +deepening the gloom of night.</p> + +<p>So all through the long hours of darkness, Harold toiled on his lonely +way, startled at times by the shriek of the night bird, and listening +intently to catch the sign of danger. At last the dawn, welcome although +it enhanced the chances of detection, blushed faintly through the +clouded eastern sky, and Harold, through the mists of morning, could see +a fair and rolling landscape stretched before him. The sky was overcast, +and presently the heavy drops began to fall. Consulting the little +friendly compass which Oriana had given him, he pushed on briskly, +turning always to the right or left, as the smoke, circling from some +early housewife's kitchen, betrayed the dangerous neighborhood of a +human habitation.</p> + +<p>Crossing a rivulet, he dismounted, and filled a small leathern bottle +that he carried with him, his good steed and himself meanwhile +satisfying their thirst from the cool wave. His appetite, freshened by +exercise, caused him to remember a package which Oriana's forethought +had provided for him on the preceding afternoon. He drew it from, his +pocket, and while his steed clipped the tender herbage from the +streamlet's bank, he made an excellent breakfast of the corn bread and +bacon, and other substantial edibles, which his kind friend had +bountifully supplied. Man and horse thus refreshed, he remounted, and +rode forward at a gallant pace, the strong animal he bestrode seeming as +yet to show no signs of fatigue.</p> + +<p>The rain was now falling in torrents, a propitious circumstance, since +it lessened the probabilities of his encountering the neighboring +inhabitants, most of whom must have sought shelter from the pelting +storm. He occasionally came up with a trudging negro, sometimes a group +of three or four, who answered timidly whenever he accosted them, and +glanced at him askance, but yet gave the information he requested. Once, +indeed, he could discern a troop of cavalry plashing along at same +distance through the muddy road, but he screened himself in a cornfield, +and was unobserved. His watch had been injured in the battle, and he had +no means, except conjecture, of judging of the hour; but by the flagging +pace of his horse, and his own fatigue, he knew that he must have been +many hours in the saddle. Surely the Potomac must be at hand! Yet there +was no sign of it, and over interminable hill and dale, through +corn-fields, and over patches of woodland and meadow, the weary steed +was urged on, slipping and sliding in the saturated soil. What was that +sound which caused his horse to prick up his ears and quicken his pace +with the instinct of danger? He heard it himself distinctly. It was the +baying of a bloodhound.</p> + +<p>"They are on my track!" muttered Harold; "and unless the river is at +hand, I am lost. Forward, sir! forward, good fellow!" he shouted +cheerily to his horse, and the noble animal, snorting and tossing his +silken mane, answered with an effort, and broke into a gallop.</p> + +<p>Down one hill into a little valley they pushed on, and up the ascent of +another. They reached the crest, and then, thank Heaven! there was the +broad river, winding through the valley. Dull and leaden hued as it +looked, reflecting the clouded sky, he had never hailed it so joyfully +when sparkling with sunbeams as he did at the close of that weary day. +Yet the danger was not past; up and down the stream he gazed, and far to +the right he could distinguish a group of tents peering from among the +foliage of a grove, and marking the site of a Confederate battery. But +just in front of him was a cheering sight; an armed schooner swung +lazily at anchor in the channel, and the wet bunting that drooped +listlessly over her stern, revealed the stars and stripes.</p> + +<p>The full tones of the bloodhound's voice aroused him to the necessity of +action; he turned in the saddle and glanced over the route he had come. +On the crest of the hill beyond that on which he stood, the forms of +three horsemen were outlined against the greyish sky. They distinguished +him at the same moment, for he could hear their shouts of exultation, +borne to him on the humid air.</p> + +<p>It was yet a full mile to the river bank, and his horse was almost +broken down with fatigue. Dashing his armed heels against the throbbing +flanks of the jaded animal, he rushed down the hill in a straight line +for the water. The sun was already below the horizon, and darkness was +coming on apace. As he pushed on, the shouts of his pursuers rang louder +upon his ear at every rod; it was evident that they were fresh mounted, +while his own steed was laboring, with a last effort, over the rugged +ground, stumbling among stones, and groaning at intervals with the +severity of exertion. He could hear the trampling behind him, he could +catch the words of triumph that seemed to be shouted almost in his very +ear. A bullet whizzed by him, and then another, and with each report +there came a derisive cheer. But it was now quite dark, and that, with +the rapid motion, rendered him comparatively fearless of being struck. +He spurred on, straining his eyes to see what was before him, for it +seemed that the ground in front became suddenly and curiously lost in +the mist and gloom. Just then, simultaneously with the report of a +pistol, he felt his good steed quiver beneath him; a bullet had reached +his flank, and the poor animal fell upon his knees and rolled over in +the agony of death.</p> + +<p>It was well that he had fallen; Harold, thrown forward a few feet, +touched the earth upon the edge of the rocky bank that descended +precipitously a hundred feet or more to the river—a few steps further, +and horse and rider would have plunged over the verge of the bluff.</p> + +<p>Harold, though bruised by his fall, was not considerably hurt; without +hesitation, he commenced the hazardous descent, difficult by day, but +perilous and uncertain in the darkness. Clinging to each projecting rock +and feeling cautiously for a foothold among the slippery ledges, he had +accomplished half the distance and could already hear the light plashing +of the wave upon the boulders below. He heard a voice above, shouting: +"Look out for the bluff there, we must be near it!"</p> + +<p>The warning came too late. There was a cry of terror—the blended voice +of man and horse, startling the night and causing Harold to crouch with +instinctive horror close to the dripping rock. There was a rush of wind +and the bounding by of a dark whirling body, which rolled over and over, +tearing over the sharp angles of the cliff, and scattering the loose +fragments of stone over him as he clung motionless to his support. Then +there was a dull thump below, and a little afterward a terrible moan, +and then all was still.</p> + +<p>Harold continued his descent and reached the base of the bluff in +safety. Through the darkness he could see a dark mass lying like a +shadow among the pointed stones, with the waves of the river rippling +about it. He approached it. There lay the steed gasping in the last +agony, and the rider beneath him, crushed, mangled and dead. He stooped +down by the side of the corpse; it was bent double beneath the quivering +body of the dying horse, in such a manner as must have snapped the spine +in twain. Harold lifted the head, but let it fall again with a shudder, +for his fingers had slipped into the crevice of the cleft skull and were +all smeared with the oozing brain. Yet, despite the obscurity and the +disfigurement, despite the bursting eyeballs and the clenched jaws +through which the blood was trickling, he recognized the features of +Seth Rawbon.</p> + +<p>No time for contemplation or for revery. There was a scrambling +overhead, with now and then a snarl and an angry growl. And further up, +he heard the sound of voices, labored and suppressed, as of men who were +speaking while toiling at some unwonted exercise. Harold threw off his +coat and boots, and waded out into the river. The dark hull of the +schooner could be seen looming above the gloomy surface of the water, +and he dashed toward it through the deepening wave. There was a splash +behind him and soon he could hear the puffing and short breathing of a +swimming dog. He was then up to his arm-pits in the water, and a few +yards further would bring him off his footing. He determined to wait the +onset there, while he could yet stand firm upon the shelving bottom. He +had not long to wait. The bloodhound made directly for him; he could see +his eyes snapping and glaring like red coals above the black water. +Harold braced himself as well as he could upon the yielding sand, and +held his poignard, Oriana's welcome gift, with a steady grasp. The dog +came so close that his fetid breath played upon Harold's cheek; then he +aimed a swift blow at his neck, but the brute dodged it like a fish. +Harold lost his balance and fell forward into the water, but in falling, +he launched out his left hand and caught the tough loose skin above the +animal's shoulder. He held it with the grasp of a drowning man, and over +and over they rolled in the water, like two sea monsters at their sport. +With all his strength, Harold drew the fierce brute toward him, +circling his neck tightly with his left arm, and pressed the sharp blade +against his throat. The hot blood gushed out over his hand, but he drove +the weapon deeper, slitting the sinewy flesh to the right and left, till +the dog ceased to struggle. Then Harold flung the huge carcass from him, +and struck out, breathless as he was, for the schooner. It was time, for +already his pursuers were upon the bank, aiming their pistol shots at +the black spot which they could just distinguish cleaving through the +water. But a few vigorous strokes carried him beyond their vision and +they ceased firing. Soon he heard the sound of muffled oars and a dark +shape seemed to rise from the water in front of him. The watch on board +the schooner, alarmed by the firing, had sent a boat's crew to +reconnoitre. Harold divined that it was so, and hailing the approaching +boat, was taken in, and ten minutes afterward, stood, exhausted but +safe, upon the schooner's deck.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>With the earliest opportunity, Harold proceeded to Washington, and +sought an interview with the President, in relation to Arthur's case. +Mr. Lincoln received him kindly, but could give no information +respecting the arrest or alleged criminality of his friend. "There were +so many and pressing affairs of state that he could find no room for +individual cases in his memory." However, he referred him to the +Secretary of War, with a request that the latter would look into the +matter. By dint of persistent inquiries at various sources, Harold +finally ascertained that the prisoner had a few days previously been +released, upon the assurance of the surgeon at the fort, that his +failing health required his immediate removal. Inquiry had been made +into the circumstances leading to his arrest; made too late, however, to +benefit the victim of a State mistake, whose delicate health had already +been too severely tried by the discomforts attendant upon his +situation. However, enough had been ascertained to leave but little +doubt as to his innocence; and Arthur, with the ghastly signs of a rapid +consumption upon his wan cheek, was dismissed from the portals of a +prison, which had already prepared him for the tomb.</p> + +<p>Harold hastened to Vermont, whither he knew the invalid had been +conveyed. It was toward the close of the first autumn day that he +entered the little village, upon whose outskirts was situated the farm +of his dying friend. The air was mild and balmy, but the voices of +nature seemed to him more hushed than usual, as if in mournful unison +with his own sad reveries. He had passed on foot from the village to the +farm-house, and when he opened the little white wicket, and walked along +the gravelled avenue that led to the flower-clad porch, the willows on +either side seemed to droop lower than willows are used to droop, and +the soft September air sighed through the swinging boughs, like the +prelude of a dirge.</p> + +<p>Arthur was reclining upon an easy-chair upon the little porch, and +beside him sat a venerable lady, reading from the worn silver-clasped +Bible, which rested on her lap. The lady rose when he approached; and +Arthur, whose gaze had been wandering among the autumn clouds, that +wreathed the points of the far-off mountains, turned his head languidly, +when the footsteps broke his dream.</p> + +<p>He did not rise. Alas! he was too weak to do so without the support of +his aged mother's arm, which had so often cradled him in infancy and had +now become the staff of his broken manhood. But a beautiful and happy +smile illumined his pale lips, and spread all over the thin and wasted +features, like sunlight gleaming on the grey surface of a church-yard +stone. He lifted his attenuated hand, and when Harold clasped it, the +fingers were so cold and deathlike that their pressure seemed to close +about his heart, compressing it, and chilling the life current in his +veins.</p> + +<p>"I knew that you would come, Harold. Although I read that you were +missing at the close of that dreadful battle, something told me that we +should meet again. Whether it was a sick man's fancy, or the foresight +of a parting soul, it is realized, for you are here. And you come not +too soon, Harold," he added, with a pressure of the feeble hand, "for I +am going fast—fast from the discords of earth—fast to the calm and +harmony beyond."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arthur, how changed you are!" said Harold, who could not keep from +fastening his gaze on the white, sunken cheek and hollow eyes of his +dying comrade. "But you will get better now, will you not—now that you +are home again, and we can nurse you?"</p> + +<p>Arthur shook his head with a mournful smile, and the fit of painful +coughing which overtook him answered his friend's vain hope.</p> + +<p>"No, Harold, no. All of earth is past to me, even hope. And I am ready, +cheerful even, to go, except for the sake of some loved ones that will +sorrow for me."</p> + +<p>He took his mother's hand as he spoke, and looked at her with touching +tenderness, while the poor dame brushed away her tears.</p> + +<p>"I have but a brief while to stay behind," she said, "and my sorrow will +be less, to know that you have ever been a good son to me. Oh, Mr. Hare, +he might have lived to comfort me, and close my old eyes in death, if +they had not been so cruel with him, and locked him within prison +walls. He, who never dreamed of wrong, and never injured willingly a +worm in his path."</p> + +<p>"Nay, mother, they were not unkind to me in the fort, and did what they +could to make me comfortable. But, Harold, it is wrong. I have thought +of it in the long, weary nights in prison, and I have thought of it when +I knew that death was beckoning me to come and rest from the thoughts of +earth. It is wrong to tamper with the sacred law that shields the +citizen. I believe that many a man within those fortress walls is as +innocent in the eyes of God as those who sent him there. Yet I accuse +none of willful wrong, but only of unconscious error. If the sacrifice +of my poor life could shed one ray upon the darkness, I would rejoice to +be the victim that I am, of a violated right. But all, statesmen, and +chieftains, and humble citizens, are being swept along upon the +whirlwinds of passion; all hearts are ablaze with the fiery magnificence +of war, and none will take warning till the land shall be desolate, and +thousands, stricken in their prime, shall be sleeping—where I shall +soon be—beneath the cold sod. I am weary, mother, and chill. Let us go +in."</p> + +<p>They bore him in and helped him to his bed, where he lay pale and +silent, seeming much worse from the fatigue of conversation and the +excitement of his meeting with his old college friend. Mrs. Wayne left +him in charge of Harold, while she went below to prepare what little +nourishment he could take, and to provide refreshment for her guest.</p> + +<p>Arthur lay, for a space, with his eyes closed, and apparently in sleep. +But he looked up, at last, and stretched out his hand to Harold, who +pressed the thin fingers, whiter than the coverlet on which they rested.</p> + +<p>"Is mother there?"</p> + +<p>"No, Arthur," replied Harold. "Shall I call her?"</p> + +<p>"No. I thought to have spoken to you, to-morrow, of something that has +been often my theme of thought; but I know not what strange feeling has +crept upon me; and perhaps, Harold—for we know not what the morrow may +bring—perhaps I had better speak now."</p> + +<p>"It hurts you, Arthur; you are too weak. Indeed, you must sleep now, and +to-morrow we shall talk."</p> + +<p>"No; now, Harold. It will not hurt me, or if it does, it matters little +now. Harold, I would fain that no shadow of unkindness should linger +between us twain when I am gone."</p> + +<p>"Why should there, Arthur? You have been my true friend always, and as +such shall I remember you."</p> + +<p>"Yet have I wronged you; yet have I caused you much grief and +bitterness, and only your own generous nature preserved us from +estrangement. Harold, have you heard from <i>her</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I have seen her, Arthur. During my captivity, she was my jailer; in my +sickness, for I was slightly wounded, she was my nurse. I will tell you +all about it to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow," replied Arthur, breathing heavily. "To-morrow! the +word sounds meaningless to me, like something whose significance has +left me. Is she well, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And happy?"</p> + +<p>"I think so, Arthur. As happy as any of us can be, amid severed ties and +dread uncertainties."</p> + +<p>"I am glad that she is well. Harold, you will tell her, for I am sure +you will meet again, you will tell her it was my dying wish that you two +should be united. Will you promise, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell her all that you wish, Arthur."</p> + +<p>"I seem to feel that I shall be happy in my grave, to know that, she +will be your wife; to know that my guilty love—for I loved her, Harold, +and it <i>was</i> guilt to love—to know that it left no poison behind, that +its shadow has passed away from the path that you must tread."</p> + +<p>"Speak not of guilt, my friend. There could live no crime between two +such noble hearts. And had I thought you would have accepted the +sacrifice, I could almost have been happy to have given her to you, so +much was her happiness the aim of my own love."</p> + +<p>"Yes, for you have a glorious heart, Harold; and I thank Heaven that she +cannot fail to love you. And you do not think, do you, Harold, that it +would be wrong for you two to speak of me when I am gone? I cannot bear +to think that you should deem it necessary to drive me from your +memories, as one who had stepped in between your hearts. I am sure she +will love you none the less for her remembrance of me, and therefore +sometimes you will talk together of me, will you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we will often talk of you, for what dearer theme to both could we +choose; what purer recollections could our memories cherish than of the +friend we both loved so much, and who so well deserved our love?"</p> + +<p>"And I am forgiven, Harold?"</p> + +<p>"Were there aught to be forgiven, I would forgive; but I have never +harbored in my most secret heart one trace of anger or resentment toward +you. Do not talk more, dear Arthur. To-morrow, perhaps, you will be +stronger, and then we will speak again. Here comes your mother, and she +will scold me for letting you fatigue yourself so much."</p> + +<p>"Raise me a little on the pillow, please. I seem to breathe more heavily +to-night. Thank you, I will sleep now. Good night, mother; I will eat +the gruel when I wake. I had rather sleep now. Good night, Harold!"</p> + +<p>He fell into a slumber almost immediately, and they would not disturb +him, although his mother had prepared the food he had been used to +take.</p> + +<p>"I think he is better to-night. He seems to sleep more tranquilly," said +Mrs. Wayne. "If you will step below, I have got a dish of tea for you, +and some little supper."</p> + +<p>Harold went down and refreshed himself at the widow's neat and +hospitable board, and then walked out into the evening, to dissipate, if +possible, the cloud that was lowering about his heart. He paced up and +down the avenue of willows, and though the fresh night air soothed the +fever of his brain, he could not chase away the gloom that weighed upon +his spirit. His mind wandered among mournful memories—the field of +battle, strewn with the dying and the dead; the hospital where brave +suffering men were groaning under the surgeon's knife; the sick chamber, +where his friend was dying.</p> + +<p>"And I, too," he thought, "have become the craftsman of Death, training +my arm and intellect to be cunning in the butchery of my fellows! +Wearing the instrument of torture at my side, and using the faculties +God gave me to mutilate His image. Yet, from the pulpit and the +statesman's chair, and far back through ages from the pages of history, +precept and example have sought to record its justification, under the +giant plea of necessity. But is it justified? Has man, in his +enlightenment, sufficiently studied to throw aside the hereditary errors +that come from the past, clothed in barbarous splendors to mislead +thought and dazzle conscience? Oh, for one glimpse of the Eternal Truth! +to teach us how far is delegated to mortal man the right to take away +the life he cannot give. When shall the sword be held accursed? When +shall man cease to meddle with the most awful prerogative of his God? +When shall our right hands be cleansed forever from the stain of blood, +and homicide be no longer a purpose and a glory upon earth? I shudder +when I look up at the beautiful serenity of this autumn sky, and +remember that my deed has loosened an immortal soul from its clay, and +hurled it, unprepared, into its Maker's presence. My conscience would +rebuke my hand, should it willfully shatter the sculptor's marble +wrought into human shape, or deface the artist's ideal pictured upon +canvas, or destroy aught that is beautiful and costly of man's ingenuity +and labor. And yet these I might replace with emptying a purse into the +craftsman's hand. But will my gold recall the vital spark into those +cold forms that, stricken by my steel or bullet, are rotting in their +graves? The masterpiece of God I have destroyed. His image have I +defaced; the wonderful mechanism that He alone can mold, and molded for +His own holy purpose, have I shattered and dismembered; the soul, an +essence of His own eternity, have I chased from its alotted earthly +home, and I rely for my justification upon—what?—the fact that my +victim differed from me in political belief. Must the hand of man be +raised against the workmanship of God because an earthly bond has been +sundered? Our statesmen teach us so, the ministers of our faith +pronounce it just; but, oh God! should it be wrong! When the blood is +hot, when the heart throbs with exaltation, when martial music swells, +and the war-steed prances, and the bayonets gleam in the bright +sunlight—then I think not of the doubt, nor of the long train of +horrors, the tears, the bereavements, the agonies, of which this martial +magnificence is but the vanguard. But now, in the still calmness of the +night, when all around me and above me breathes of the loveliness and +holiness of peace, I fear. I question nature, hushed as she is and +smiling in repose, and her calm beauty tells me that Peace is sacred; +that her Master sanctions no discords among His children. I question my +own conscience, and it tells me that the sword wins not the everlasting +triumph—that the voice of war finds no echo within the gates of +heaven."</p> + +<p>Ill-comforted by his reflections, he returned to the quiet dwelling, and +entered the chamber of his friend.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The sufferer was still sleeping, and Mrs. Wayne was watching by the +bedside. Harold seated himself beside her, and gazed mournfully upon the +pale, still features that already, but for the expression of pain that +lingered there, seemed to have passed from the quiet of sleep to the +deeper calm of death.</p> + +<p>"Each moment that I look," said Mrs. Wayne, wiping her tears away, "I +seem to see the grey shadows of the grave stealing over his brow. The +doctor was here a few moments before you came. The minister, too, sat +with him all the morning. I know from their kind warning that I shall +soon be childless. He has but a few hours to be with me. Oh, my son! my +son!"</p> + +<p>She bent her head upon the pillow, and wept silently in the bitterness +of her heart. Harold forebore to check that holy grief; but when the +old lady, with Christian resignation, had recovered her composure, he +pressed her to seek that repose which her aged frame so much needed.</p> + +<p>"I will sit by Arthur while you rest awhile; you have already overtasked +your strength with vigil. I will awake you should there be a change."</p> + +<p>She consented to lie upon the sofa, and soon wept herself to sleep, for +she was really quite broken down with watching. Everything was hushed +around, save the monotones of the insects in the fields, and the +breathing of those that slept. If there is an hour when the soul is +lifted above earth and communes with holy things, it is in the stillness +of the country night, when the solitary watcher sits beside the pillow +of a loved one, waiting the coming of the dark angel, whose footsteps +are at the threshold. Harold sat gazing silently at the face of the +invalid; sometimes a feeble smile would struggle with the lines of +suffering upon the pinched and haggard lineaments, and once from the +white lips came the murmur of a name, so low that only the solemn +stillness made the sound palpable—the name of Oriana.</p> + +<p>Toward midnight, Arthur's breathing became more difficult and painful, +and his features changed so rapidly that Harold became fearful that the +end was come. With a sigh, he stepped softly to the sofa, and wakened +Mrs. Wayne, taking her gently by the hand which trembled in his grasp. +She knew that she was awakened to a terrible sorrow—that she was about +to bid farewell to the joy of her old age. Arthur opened his eyes, but +the weeping mother turned from them; she could not bear to meet them, +for already the glassy film was veiling the azure depths whose light had +been so often turned to her in tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Give me some air, mother. It is so close—I cannot breathe."</p> + +<p>They raised him upon the pillow, and his mother supported the languid +head upon her bosom.</p> + +<p>"Arthur, my son! are you suffering, my poor boy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It will pass away. Do not grieve. Kiss me, dear mother."</p> + +<p>He was gasping for breath, and his hand was tightly clasped about his +mother's withered palm. She wiped the dampness from his brow, mingling +her tears with the cold dews of death.</p> + +<p>"Is Harold there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Arthur."</p> + +<p>"You will not forget? And you will love and guard her well?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Arthur."</p> + +<p>"Put away the sword, Harold; it is accursed of God. Is not that the +moonlight that streams upon the bed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Does it disturb you, Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"No. Let it come in. Let it all come in; it seems a flood of glory."</p> + +<p>His voice grew faint, till they could scarce hear its murmur. His +breathing was less painful, and the old smile began to wreathe about his +lips, smoothing the lines of pain.</p> + +<p>"Kiss me, dear mother! You need not hold me. I am well enough—I am +happy, mother. I can sleep now."</p> + +<p>He slept no earthly slumber. As the summer air that wafts a rose-leaf +from its stem, gently his last sigh stole upon the stillness of the +night. Harold lifted the lifeless form from the mother's arms, and when +it drooped upon the pillow, he turned away, that the parent might close +the lids of the dead son.</p> +<br /> + +<p>THE END.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession +by Benjamin Wood + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORT LAFAYETTE *** + +***** This file should be named 12452-h.htm or 12452-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/4/5/12452/ + +Produced by Curtis Weyant, Stephen Hope and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/12452.txt b/old/12452.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..92e146e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12452.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6418 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession, by Benjamin Wood + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession + +Author: Benjamin Wood + +Release Date: May 27, 2004 [EBook #12452] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORT LAFAYETTE *** + + + + +Produced by Curtis Weyant, Stephen Hope and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +FORT LAFAYETTE + +OR +LOVE AND SECESSION + + +A Novel + +BY BENJAMIN WOOD + + +MDCCCLXII + +1862 + + + + + ----"Whom they please they lay in basest bonds." + _Venice Preserved._ + + * * * * * + + "O, beauteous Peace! + Sweet union of a state! what else but thou + Gives safety, strength, and glory to a people?" + _Thomson._ + + "Oh, Peace! thou source and soul of social life; + Beneath whose calm inspiring influence, + Science his views enlarges, art refines, + And swelling commerce opens all her ports; + Blest be the man divine, who gives us thee!" + _Thomson._ + + + "A peace is of the nature of a conquest; + For then both parties nobly are subdued, + And neither party loser." + _Shakspeare._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +There is a pleasant villa on the southern bank of the James River, a few +miles below the city of Richmond. The family mansion, an old fashioned +building of white stone, surrounded by a spacious veranda, and embowered +among stately elms and grave old oaks, is sure to attract the attention +of the traveller by its picturesque appearance, and the dreamy elegance +and air of comfort that pervade the spot. The volumes of smoke that roll +from the tall chimneys, the wide portals of the hall, flung open as if +for a sign of welcome, the merry chat and cheerful faces of the sable +household, lazily alternating their domestic labors with a sly romp or a +lounge in some quiet nook, these and other traits of the old Virginia +home, complete the picture of hospitable affluence which the stranger +instinctively draws as his gaze lingers on the grateful scene. The house +stands on a wooded knoll, within a bowshot of the river bank, and from +the steps of the back veranda, where creeping flowers form a perfumed +network of a thousand hues, the velvety lawn shelves gracefully down to +the water's edge. + +Toward sunset of one of the early days of April, 1861, a young girl +stood leaning upon the wicket of a fence which separated the garden from +the highway. She stood there dreamily gazing along the road, as if +awaiting the approach of some one who would be welcome when he came. The +slanting rays of the declining sun glanced through the honeysuckles and +tendrils that intertwined among the white palings, and threw a subdued +light upon her face. It was a face that was beautiful in repose, but +that promised to be more beautiful when awakened into animation. The +large, grey eyes were half veiled with their black lashes at that +moment, and their expression was thoughtful and subdued; but ever as the +lids were raised, when some distant sound arrested her attention, the +expression changed with a sudden flash, and a gleam like an electric +fire darted from the glowing orbs. Her features were small and +delicately cut, the nostrils thin and firm, and the lips most +exquisitely molded, but in the severe chiselling of their arched lines +betraying a somewhat passionate and haughty nature. But the rose tint +was so warm upon her cheek, the raven hair clustered with such luxuriant +grace about her brows, and the _petite_ and lithe figure was so +symmetrical at every point, that the impression of haughtiness was lost +in the contemplation of so many charms. + +Oriana Weems, the subject of our sketch, was an orphan. Her father, a +wealthy Virginian, died while his daughter was yet an infant, and her +mother, who had been almost constantly an invalid, did not long survive. +Oriana and her brother, Beverly, her senior by two years, had thus been +left at an early age in the charge of their mother's sister, a maiden +lady of excellent heart and quiet disposition, who certainly had most +conscientiously fulfilled the sacred trust. Oriana had returned but a +twelvemonth before from a northern seminary, where she had gathered up +more accomplishments than she would ever be likely to make use of in the +old homestead; while Beverly, having graduated at Yale the preceding +month, had written to his sister that she might expect him that very +day, in company with his classmate and friend, Arthur Wayne. + +She stood, therefore, at the wicket, gazing down the road, in +expectation of catching the first glimpse of her brother and his friend, +for whom horses had been sent to Richmond, to await their arrival at the +depot. So much was she absorbed in revery, that she failed to observe a +solitary horseman who approached from the opposite direction. He plodded +leisurely along until within a few feet of the wicket, when he quietly +drew rein and gazed for a moment in silence upon the unconscious girl. +He was a tall, gaunt man, with stooping shoulders, angular features, +lank, black hair and a sinister expression, in which cunning and malice +combined. He finally urged his horse a step nearer, and as softly as +his rough voice would admit, he bade: "Good evening, Miss Oriana." + +She started, and turned with a suddenness that caused the animal he rode +to swerve. Recovering her composure as suddenly, she slightly inclined +her head and turning from him, proceeded toward the house. + +"Stay, Miss Oriana, if you please." + +She paused and glanced somewhat haughtily over her shoulder. + +"May I speak a word with you?" + +"My aunt, sir, is within; if you have business, I will inform her of +your presence." + +"My business is with you, Miss Weems," and, dismounting, he passed +through the gate and stepped quickly to her side. + +"Why do you avoid me?" + +Her dark eye flashed in the twilight, and she drew her slight form up +till it seemed to gain a foot in height. + +"We do not seek to enlarge our social circle, Mr. Rawbon. You will +excuse me if I leave you abruptly, but the night dew begins to fall." + +She moved on, but he followed and placed his hand gently on her arm. +She shook it off with more of fierceness than dignity, and the man's +eyes fairly sought the ground beneath the glance she gave him. + +"You know that I love you," he said, in a hoarse murmur, "and that's the +reason you treat me like a dog." + +She turned her back upon him, and walked, as if she heard him not, along +the garden path. His brow darkened, and quickening his pace, he stepped +rudely before her and blocked the way. + +"Look you, Miss Weems, you have insulted me with your proud ways time +and time again, and I have borne it tamely, because I loved you, and +because I've sworn that I shall have you. It's that puppy, Harold Hare, +that has stepped in between you and me. Now mark you," and he raised his +finger threateningly, "I won't be so meek with him as I've been with +you." + +The girl shuddered slightly, but recovering, walked forward with a step +so stately and commanding, that Rawbon, bold and angry as he was, +involuntarily made way for her, and she sprang up the steps of the +veranda and passed into the hall. He stood gazing after her for a +moment, nervously switching the rosebush at his side with his heavy +horsewhip; then, with a muttered curse, he strode hastily away, and +leaping upon his horse, galloped furiously down the road. + +Seth Rawbon was a native of Massachusetts, but for some ten years +previously to the date at which our tale commences, he had been mostly a +resident of Richmond, where his acuteness and active business habits had +enabled him to accumulate an independent fortune. His wealth and +vigorous progressive spirit had given him a certain degree of influence +among the middle classes of the community, but his uncouth manner, and a +suspicion that he was not altogether free from the degradation of +slave-dealing, had, to his great mortification and in spite of his +persistent efforts, excluded him from social intercourse with the +aristocracy of the Old Dominion. He was not a man, however, to give way +to obstacles, and with characteristic vanity and self-reliance, he had, +shortly after her return from school, greatly astonished the proud +Oriana with a bold declaration of love and an offer of his hand and +fortune. Not intimidated by a sharp and decidedly ungracious refusal, he +had at every opportunity advocated his hopeless suit, and with so much +persistence and effrontery, that the object of his unwelcome passion had +been goaded from indifference to repugnance and absolute loathing. +Harold Hare, whose name he had mentioned with so much bitterness in the +course of the interview we have represented, was a young Rhode Islander, +who had, upon her brother's invitation, sojourned a few weeks at the +mansion some six months previously, while on his way to engage in a +surveying expedition in Western Virginia. He had promised to return in +good time, to join Beverly and his guest, Arthur Wayne, at the close of +their academic labors. + +A few moments after Rawbon's angry departure, the family carriage drove +rapidly up to the hall door, and the next instant Beverly was in his +sister's arms, and had been affectionately welcomed by his +old-fashioned, kindly looking aunt. As he turned to introduce his +friend, Arthur, the latter was gazing with an air of absent admiration +upon the kindled features of Oriana. The two young men were of the same +age, apparently about one-and-twenty; but in character and appearance +they were widely different. Beverly was, in countenance and manner, +curiously like his sister, except that the features were bolder and more +strongly marked. Arthur, on the contrary, was delicate in feature almost +to effeminacy. His brow was pale and lofty, and above the auburn locks +were massed like a golden coronet. His eyes were very large and blue, +with a peculiar softness and sadness that suited well the expression of +thoughtfulness and repose about his lips. He was taller than his friend, +and although well-formed and graceful, was slim and evidently not in +robust health. His voice, as he spoke in acknowledgment of the +introduction, was low and musical, but touched with a mournfulness that +was apparent even in the few words of conventional courtesy that he +pronounced. + +Having thus domiciliated them comfortably in the old hall, we will leave +them to recover from the fatigues of the journey, and to taste of the +plentiful hospitalities of Riverside manor. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Early in the fresh April morning, the party at Riverside manor were +congregated in the hall, doing full justice to Aunt Nancy's substantial +breakfast. + +"Oriana," said Beverly, as he paused from demolishing a well-buttered +batter cake, and handed his cup for a second supply of the fragrant +Mocha, "I will leave it to your _savoir faire_ to transform our friend +Arthur into a thorough southerner, before we yield him back to his Green +Mountains. He is already half a convert to our institutions, and will +give you not half so much trouble as that obstinate Harold Hare." + +She slightly colored at the name, but quietly remarked: + +"Mr. Wayne must look about him and judge from his own observation, not +my arguments. I certainly do not intend to annoy him during his visit, +with political discussions." + +"And yet you drove Harold wild with your flaming harangues, and gave +him more logic in an afternoon ride than he had ever been bored with in +Cambridge in a month." + +"Only when he provoked and invited the assault," she replied, smiling. +"But I trust, Mr. Wayne, that the cloud which is gathering above our +country will not darken the sunshine of your visit at Riverside manor. +It is unfortunate that you should have come at an unpropitious moment, +when we cannot promise you that perhaps there will not be some cold +looks here and there among the townsfolk, to give you a false impression +of a Virginia welcome." + +"Not at all, Oriana; Arthur will have smiles and welcome enough here at +the manor house to make him proof against all the hard looks in +Richmond. I prevailed on him to come at all hazards, and we are bound to +have a good time and don't want you to discourage us; eh, Arthur?" + +"I am but little of a politician, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "although I +take our country's differences much at heart. I shall surely not provoke +discussion with you, like our friend Harold, upon an unpleasant +subject, while you give me _carte blanche_ to enjoy your conversation +upon themes more congenial to my nature." + +She inclined her head with rather more of gravity than the nature of the +conversation warranted, and her lips were slightly compressed as she +observed that Arthur's blue eyes were fixed pensively, but intently, on +her face. + +The meal being over, Oriana and Wayne strolled on the lawn toward the +river bank, while the carriage was being prepared for a morning drive. +They stood on the soft grass at the water's edge, and as Arthur gazed +with a glow of pleasure at the beautiful prospect before him, his fair +companion pointed out with evident pride the many objects of beauty and +interest that were within view on the opposite bank. + +"Are you a sailor, Mr. Wayne? If so, we must have out the boat this +afternoon, and you will find some fairy nooks beyond the bend that will +repay you for exploring them, if you have a taste for a lovely +waterscape. I know you are proud of the grand old hills of your native +State, but we have something to boast of too in our Virginia scenery." + +"If you will be my helmswoman, I can imagine nothing more delightful +than the excursion you propose. But I am inland bred, and must place +myself at the mercy of your nautical experience." + +"Oh, I am a skillful captain, Mr. Wayne, and will make a good sailor of +you before you leave us. Mr. Hare will tell you that I am to be trusted +with the helm, even when the wind blows right smartly, as it sometimes +does even on that now placid stream. But with his memories of the +magnificent Hudson, he was too prone to quiz me about what he called our +pretty rivulet. You know him, do you not?" + +"Oh, well. He was Beverly's college-mate and mine, though somewhat our +senior." + +"And your warm friend, I believe?" + +"Yes, and well worthy our friendship. Somewhat high-tempered and +quick-spoken, but with a heart--like your brother's, Miss Weems, as +generous and frank as a summer day." + +"I do not think him high-tempered beyond the requisites of manhood," she +replied, with something like asperity in her tone. "I cannot endure +your meek, mild mannered men, who seem to forget their sex, and almost +make me long to change my own with them, that their sweet dispositions +may be better placed." + +He glanced at her with a somewhat surprised air, that brought a slight +blush to her cheek; but he seemed unconscious of it, and said, almost +mechanically: + +"And yet, that same high spirit, which you prize so dearly, had, in his +case, almost caused you a severe affliction." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Have you not heard how curiously Beverly's intimacy with Harold was +brought about? And yet it was not likely that he should have told you, +although I know no harm in letting you know." + +She turned toward him with an air of attention, as if in expectation. + +"It was simply this. Not being class-mates, they had been almost +strangers to each other at college, until, by a mere accident, an +argument respecting your Southern institutions led to an angry dispute, +and harsh words passed between them. Being both of the ardent +temperament you so much admire, a challenge ensued, and, in spite of my +entreaty and remonstrance, a duel. Your brother was seriously wounded, +and Harold, shocked beyond expression, knelt by his side as he lay +bleeding on the sward, and bitterly accusing himself, begged his +forgiveness, and, I need not add, received it frankly. Harold was +unremitting in his attentions to your brother during the period of his +illness, and from the day of that hostile meeting, the most devoted +friendship has existed between them. But it was an idle quarrel, Miss +Weems, and was near to have cost you an only brother." + +She remained silent for a few moments, and was evidently affected by the +recital. Then she spoke, softly as if communing with herself: "Harold is +a brave and noble fellow, and I thank God that he did not kill my +brother!" and a bright tear rolled upon her cheek. She dashed it away, +almost angrily, and glancing steadily at Arthur: + +"Do you condemn duelling?" + +"Assuredly." + +"But what would you have men do in the face of insult? Would you not +have fought under the same provocation?" + +"No, nor under any provocation. I hold too sacred the life that God has +given. With God's help, I shall not shed human blood, except in the +strict line of necessity and duty." + +"It is evident, sir, that you hold your own life most sacred," she said, +with a curl of her proud lip that was unmistakable. + +She did not observe the pallor that overspread his features, nor the +expression, not of anger, but of anguish, that settled upon his face, +for she had turned half away from him, and was gazing vacantly across +the river. There was an unpleasant pause, which was broken by the noise +of voices in alarm near the house, the trampling of hoofs, and the +rattle of wheels. + +The carriage had been standing at the door, while Beverly was arranging +some casual business, which delayed him in his rooms. While the +attention of the groom in charge had been attracted by some freak of his +companions, a little black urchin, not over five years of age, had +clambered unnoticed into the vehicle, and seizing the long whip, began +to flourish it about with all his baby strength. The horses, which were +high bred and spirited, had become impatient, and feeling the lash, +started suddenly, jerking themselves free from the careless grasp of the +inattentive groom. The sudden shout of surprise and terror that arose +from the group of idle negroes, startled the animals into a gallop, and +they went coursing, not along the road, but upon the lawn, straight +toward the river bank, which, in the line of their course, was +precipitous and rocky. As Oriana and Arthur turned at the sound, they +beheld the frightened steeds plunging across the lawn, and upon the +carriage seat the little fellow who had caused the mischief was +crouching bewildered and helpless, and screaming with affright. Oriana +clasped her hands, and cried tearfully: + +"Oh! poor little Pomp will be killed!" + +In fact the danger was imminent, for the lawn at that spot merged into a +rocky space, forming a little bluff which overhung the stream some +fifteen, feet. Oriana's hand was laid instinctively upon Arthur's +shoulder, and with the other she pointed, with a gesture of bewildered +anxiety, at the approaching vehicle. Arthur paused only long enough to +understand the situation, and then stepping calmly a few paces to the +left, stood directly in the path of the rushing steeds. + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne! no, no!" cried Oriana, in a tone half of fear and half +supplication; but he stood there unmoved, with the same quiet, mournful +expression that he habitually wore. The horses faltered somewhat when +they became conscious of this fixed, calm figure directly in their +course. They would have turned, but their impetus was too great, and +they swerved only enough to bring the head of the off horse in a line +with Arthur's body. As coolly as if he was taking up a favorite book, +but with a rapid movement, he grasped the rein below the bit with both +hands firmly, and swung upon it with his whole weight. The frightened +animal turned half round, stumbled, and rolled upon his side, his mate +falling upon his knees beside him; the carriage was overturned with a +crash, and little Pompey pitched out upon the greensward, unhurt. + +By this time, Beverly, followed by a crowd of excited negroes, had +reached the spot. + +"How is it, Arthur," said Beverly, placing his hand affectionately on +his friend's shoulder, "are you hurt?" + +"No," he replied, the melancholy look softening into a pleasant smile; +but as he rose and adjusted his disordered dress, he coughed +painfully--the same dry, hacking cough that had often made those who +loved him turn to him with an anxious look. It was evident that his +delicate frame was ill suited to such rough exercise. + +"We shall be cheated out of our ride this morning," said Beverly, "for +that axle has been less fortunate than you, Arthur; it is seriously +hurt." + +They moved slowly toward the house, Oriana looking silently at the grass +as she walked mechanically at her brother's side. When Arthur descended +into the drawing-room, after having changed his soiled apparel, he found +her seated there alone, by the casement, with her brow upon her hand. He +sat down at the table and glanced abstractedly over the leaves of a +scrap-book. Thus they sat silently for a quarter hour, when she arose, +and stood beside him. + +"Will you forgive me, Mr. Wayne?" + +He looked up and saw that she had been weeping. The haughty curl of the +lip and proud look from the eye were all gone, and her expression was of +humility and sorrow. She held out her hand to him with an air almost of +entreaty. He raised it respectfully to his lips, and with the low, +musical voice, sadder than ever before, he said: + +"I am sorry that you should grieve about anything. There is nothing to +forgive. Let us forget it." + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne, how unkind I have been, and how cruelly I have wronged +you!" + +She pressed his hand between both her palms for a moment, and looked +into his face, as if studying to read if some trace of resentment were +not visible. But the blue eyes looked down kindly and mournfully upon +her, and bursting into tears, she turned from him, and hurriedly left +the room. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +The incident related in the preceding chapter seemed to have effected a +marked change in the demeanor of Oriana toward her brother's guest. She +realized with painful force the wrong that her thoughtlessness, more +than her malice, had inflicted on a noble character, and it required all +of Arthur's winning sweetness of disposition to remove from her mind the +impression that she stood, while in his presence, in the light of an +unforgiven culprit. They were necessarily much in each other's company, +in the course of the many rambles and excursions that were devised to +relieve the monotony of the old manor house, and Oriana was surprised to +feel herself insensibly attracted toward the shy and pensive man, whose +character, so far as it was betrayed by outward sign, was the very +reverse of her own impassioned temperament. She discovered that the +unruffled surface covered an under-current of pure thought and exquisite +feeling, and when, on the bosom of the river, or in the solitudes of +the forest, his spirit threw off its reserve under the spell of nature's +inspiration, she felt her own impetuous organization rebuked and held in +awe by the simple and quiet grandeur that his eloquence revealed. + +One afternoon, some two weeks after his arrival at the Riverside manor, +while returning from a canter in the neighborhood, they paused upon an +eminence that overlooked a portion of the city of Richmond. There, upon +an open space, could be seen a great number of the citizens assembled, +apparently listening to the harangue of an orator. The occasional cheer +that arose from the multitude faintly reached their ears, and that mass +of humanity, restless, turbulent and excited, seemed, even at that +distance, to be swayed by some mighty passion. + +"Look, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "at this magnificent circle of gorgeous +scenery, that you are so justly proud of, that lies around you in the +golden sunset like a dream of a fairy landscape. See how the slanting +rays just tip the crest of that distant ridge, making it glow like a +coronet of gold, and then, leaping into the river beneath; spangle its +bosom with dazzling sheen, save where a part rests in the purple shadow +of the mountain. Look to the right, and see how those crimson clouds +seem bending from heaven to kiss the yellow corn-fields that stretch +along the horizon. And at your feet, the city of Richmond extends along +the valley." + +"We admit the beauty of the scene and the accuracy of the description," +said Beverly, "but, for my part, I should prefer the less romantic view +of some of Aunt Nancy's batter-cakes, for this ride has famished me." + +"Now look below," continued Arthur, "at that swarm of human beings +clustering together like angry bees. As we stand here gazing at the +glorious pageant which nature spreads out before us, one might suppose +that only for some festival of rejoicing or thanksgiving would men +assemble at such an hour and in such a scene. But what are the beauties +of the landscape, bathed in the glories of the setting-sun, to them? +They have met to listen to words of passion and bitterness, to doctrines +of strife, to denunciations and criminations against their fellow-men. +And, doubtless, a similar scene of freemen invoking the spirit of +contention that we behold yonder in that pleasant valley of the Old +Dominion, is being enacted at the North and at the South, at the East +and at the West, all over the length and breadth of our country. The +seeds of discord are being carefully and persistently gathered and +disseminated, and on both sides, these erring mortals will claim to be +acting in the name of patriotism. Beverly, do you surmise nothing +ominous of evil in that gathering?" + +"Ten to one, some stirring news from Charleston. We must ride over after +supper, Arthur, and learn the upshot of it." + +"And I will be a sybil for the nonce," said Oriana, with a kindling eye, +"and prophecy that Southern cannon have opened upon Sumter." + +In the evening, in despite of a threatening sky, Arthur and Beverly +mounted their horses and galloped toward Richmond. As they approached +the city, the rain fell heavily and they sought shelter at a wayside +tavern. Observing the public room to be full, they passed into a private +parlor and ordered some slight refreshment. In the adjoining tap-room +they could hear the voices of excited men, discussing some topic of +absorbing interest. Their anticipations were realized, for they quickly +gathered from the tenor of the disjointed conversation that the +bombardment of Fort Sumter had begun. + +"I'll bet my pile," said a rough voice, "that the gridiron bunting won't +float another day in South Carolina." + +"I'll go you halves on that, hoss, and you and I won't grow greyer nor +we be, before Old Virginny says 'me too.'" + +"Seth Rawbon, you'd better be packing your traps for Massachusetts. +She'll want you afore long." + +"Boys," ejaculated the last-mentioned personage, with an oath, "I left +off being a Massachusetts man twelve years ago. I'm with _you_, and you +know it. Let's drink. Boys, here's to spunky little South Carolina; may +she go in and win! Stranger, what'll you drink?" + +"I will not drink," replied a clear, manly voice, which had been silent +till then. + +"And why will you not drink?" rejoined the other, mocking the dignified +and determined tone in which the invitation was refused. + +"It is sufficient that I will not." + +"Mayhap you don't like my sentiment?" + +"Right." + +"Look you, Mr. Harold Hare, I know you well, and I think we'll take you +down from your high horse before you're many hours older in these parts. +Boys, let's make him drink to South Carolina." + +"Who is he, anyhow?" + +"He's an abolitionist; just the kind that'll look a darned sight more +natural in a coat of tar and feathers. Cut out his heart and you'll find +John Brown's picture there as large as life." + +At the mention of Harold's name, Arthur and Beverly had started up +simultaneously, and throwing open the bar-room door, entered hastily. +Harold had risen from his seat and stood confronting Rawbon with an air +in which anger and contempt were strangely blended. The latter leaned +with awkward carelessness against the counter, sipping a glass of +spirits and water with a malicious smile. + +"You are an insolent scoundrel," said Harold, "and I would horsewhip +you, if you were worth the pains." + +Rawbon looked around and for a second seemed to study the faces of +those about him. Then lazily reaching over toward Harold, he took him by +the arm and drew him toward the counter. + +"Say, you just come and drink to South Carolina." + +The heavy horsewhip in Harold's hand rose suddenly and descended like a +flash. The knotted lash struck Rawbon full in the mouth, splitting the +lips like a knife. In an instant several knives were drawn, and Rawbon, +spluttering an oath through the spurting blood that choked his +utterance, drew a revolver from its holster at his side. + +The entrance of the two young men was timely. They immediately placed +themselves in front of Harold, and Arthur, with his usual mild +expression, looked full in Rawbon's eye, although the latter's pistol +was in a line with his breast. + +"Stand out of the way, you two," shouted Rawbon, savagely. + +"What is the meaning of this, gentlemen?" said Beverly, quietly, to the +excited bystanders, to several of whom he was personally known. + +"Squire Weems," replied one among them, "you had better stand aside. +Rawbon has a lien on that fellow's hide. He's an abolitionist, anyhow, +and ain't worth your interference." + +"He is my very intimate friend, and I will answer for him to any one +here," said Beverly, warmly. + +"I will answer for myself," said Hare, pressing forward. + +"Then answer that!" yelled Rawbon, levelling and shooting with a rapid +movement. But Wayne's quiet eye had been riveted upon him all the while, +and he had thrown up the ruffian's arm as he pulled the trigger. + +Beverly's eyes flashed like live coals, and he sprang at Rawbon's +throat, but the crowd pressed between them, and for a while the utmost +confusion prevailed, but no blows were struck. The landlord, a sullen, +black-browed man, who had hitherto leaned silently on the counter, +taking no part in the fray, now interposed. + +"Come, I don't want no more loose shooting here!" and, by way of +assisting his remark, he took down his double-barrelled shot-gun and +jumped upon the counter. The fellow was well known for a desperate +though not quarrelsome character, and his action had the effect of +somewhat quieting the excited crowd. + +"Boys," continued he, "it's only Yankee against Yankee, anyhow; if +they're gwine to fight, let the stranger have fair play. Here stranger, +if you're a friend of Squire Weems, you kin have a fair show in my +house, I reckon, so take hold of this," and taking a revolver from his +belt, he passed it to Beverly, who cocked it and slipped it into +Harold's hand. Rawbon, who throughout the confusion had been watching +for the opportunity of a shot at his antagonist, now found himself front +to front with the object of his hate, for the bystanders had +instinctively drawn back a space, and even Wayne and Weems, willing to +trust to their friend's coolness and judgment, had stepped aside. + +Harold sighted his man as coolly as if he had been aiming at a squirrel. +Rawbon did not flinch, for he was not wanting in physical courage, but +he evidently concluded that the chances were against him, and with a +bitter smile, he walked slowly toward the door. Turning at the +threshold, he scowled for a moment at Harold, as if hesitating whether +to accept the encounter. + +"I'll fix you yet," he finally muttered, and left the room. A few +moments afterward, the three friends were mounted and riding briskly +toward Riverside manor. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Oriana, after awaiting till a late hour the return of her brother and +his friend, had retired to rest, and was sleeping soundly when the party +entered the house, after their remarkable adventure. She was therefore +unconscious, upon descending from her apartment in the morning, of the +addition to her little household. Standing upon the veranda, she +perceived what she supposed to be her brother's form moving among the +shrubbery in the garden. She hastened to accost him, curious to +ascertain the nature of the excitement in Richmond on the preceding +afternoon. Great was her astonishment and unfeigned her pleasure, upon +turning a little clump of bushes, to find herself face to face with +Harold Hare. + +He had been lost in meditation, but upon seeing her his brow lit up as a +midnight sky brightens when a passing cloud has unshrouded the full +moon. With a cry of joy she held out both her hands to him, which he +pressed silently for a moment as he gazed tenderly upon the upturned, +smiling face, and then, pushing back the black tresses, he touched her +white forehead with his lips. + +Arthur Wayne was looking out from his lattice above, and his eye chanced +to turn that way at the moment of the meeting. He started as if struck +with a sudden pang, and his cheek, always pale, became of an ashen hue. +Long he gazed with labored breath upon the pair, as if unable to realize +what he had seen; then, with a suppressed moan, he sank into a chair, +and leaned his brow heavily upon his hand. Thus for half an hour he +remained motionless; it was only after a second summons that he roused +himself and descended to the morning meal. + +At the breakfast table Oriana was in high spirits, and failed to observe +that Arthur was more sad than usual. Her brother, however, was +preoccupied and thoughtful, and even Harold, although happy in the +society of one he loved, could not refrain from moments of abstraction. +Of course the adventure of the preceding night was concealed from +Oriana, but it yet furnished the young men with matter for reflection; +and, coupled with the exciting intelligence from South Carolina, it +suggested, to Harold especially, a vision of an unhappy future. It was +natural that the thought should obtrude itself of how soon a barrier +might be placed between friends and loved ones, and the most sacred ties +sundered, perhaps forever. + +Miss Randolph, Oriana's aunt, usually reserved and silent, seemed on +this occasion the most inquisitive and talkative of the party. Her +interest in the momentous turn that affairs had taken was naturally +aroused, and she questioned the young men closely as to their view of +the probable consequences. + +"Surely," she remarked, "a nation of Christian people will choose some +alternative other than the sword to adjust their differences." + +"Why, aunt," replied Oriana, with spirit, "what better weapon than the +sword for the oppressed?" + +"I fear there is treason lurking in that little heart of yours," said +Harold, with a pensive smile. + +"I am a true Southerner, Mr. Hare; and if I were a man, I would take +down my father's rifle and march into General Beauregard's camp. We have +been too long anathematized as the vilest of God's creatures, because we +will not turn over to the world's cold charity the helpless beings that +were bequeathed into our charge by our fathers. I would protect my slave +against Northern fanaticism as firmly as I would guard my children from +the interference of a stranger, were I a mother." + +"The government against which you would rebel," said Harold, +"contemplates no interference with your slaves." + +"Why, Mr. Hare," rejoined Oriana, warmly, "we of the South can see the +spirit of abolitionism sitting in the executive chair, as plainly as we +see the sunshine on an unclouded summer day. As well might we change +places with our bondmen, as submit to this deliberate crusade against +our institutions. Mr. Wayne, you are a man not prone to prejudice, I +sincerely believe. Would you from your heart assert that this government +is not hostile to Southern slavery?" + +"I believe you are, on both sides, too sensitive upon the unhappy +subject. You are breeding danger, and perhaps ruin, out of abstract +ideas, and civil war will have laid the country waste before either +party will have awakened to a knowledge that no actual cause of +contention exists." + +"Perhaps," said Beverly, "the mere fact that the two sections are +hostile in sentiment, is the best reason why they should be hostile in +deed, if a separation can only be accomplished by force of arms." + +"And do you really fancy," said Harold, sharply, "that a separation is +possible, in the face of the opposition of twenty millions of loyal +citizens?" + +"Yes," interrupted Oriana, "in the face of the opposing world. We +established our right to self-government in 1776; and in 1861 we are +prepared to prove our power to sustain that right." + +"You are a young enthusiast," said Harold, smiling. "This rebellion will +be crushed before the flowers in that garden shall be touched with the +earliest frost." + +"I think you have formed a false estimate of the movement," remarked +Beverly, gravely; "or rather, you have not fully considered of the +subject." + +"Harold," said Arthur, sadly, "I regret, and perhaps censure, equally +with yourself, the precipitancy of our Carolinian brothers; but this is +not an age, nor a country, where six millions of freeborn people can be +controlled by bayonets and cannon." + +They were about rising from the table, when a servant announced that +some gentlemen desired to speak with Mr. Weems in private. He passed +into the drawing-room, and found himself in the presence of three men, +two of whom he recognized as small farmers of the neighborhood, and the +other as the landlord of a public house. With a brief salutation, he +seated himself beside them, and after a few commonplace remarks, paused, +as if to learn their business with him. + +After a little somewhat awkward hesitation, the publican broke silence. + +"Squire Weems, we've called about a rather unpleasant sort of business" + +"The sooner we transact it, then, the better for all, I fancy, +gentlemen." + +"Just so. Old Judge Weems, your father, was a true Virginian, squire, +and we know you are of the right sort, too." Beverly bowed in +acknowledgment of the compliment. "Squire, the boys hereabouts met down +thar at my house last night, to take into consideration them two +Northern fellows that are putting up with you." + +"Well, sir?" + +"We don't want any Yankee abolitionists in these parts." + +"Mr. Lucas, I have no guests for whom I will not vouch." + +"Can't help that, squire, them chaps is spotted, and the boys have voted +they must leave. As they be your company, us three've been deputized to +call on you and have a talk about it. We don't want to do nothing +unpleasant whar you're consarned, squire." + +"Gentlemen, my guests shall remain with me while they please to honor me +with their company, and I will protect them from violence or indignity +with my life." + +"There's no mistake but you're good grit, squire, but 'tain't no use. +You know what the boys mean to do, they'll do. Now, whar's the good of +kicking up a shindy about it?" + +"No good whatever, Mr. Lucas. You had better let this matter drop. You +know me too well to suppose that I would harbor dangerous characters. It +is my earnest desire to avoid everything that may bring about an +unnecessary excitement, or disturb the peace of the community; and I +shall therefore make no secret of this, interview to my friends. But +whether they remain with me or go, shall be entirely at their option. I +trust that my roof will be held sacred by my fellow-citizens." + +"There'll be no harm done to you or yours, Squire Weems, whatever +happens. But those strangers had better be out of these parts by +to-morrow, sure. Good morning, squire." + +"Good morning, gentlemen." + +And the three worthies took their departure, not fully satisfied whether +the object of their mission had been fulfilled. + +Beverly, anxious to avoid a collision with the wild spirits of the +neighborhood, which would be disagreeable, if not dangerous, to his +guests, frankly related to Harold and Arthur the tenor of the +conversation that had passed. Oriana was on fire with indignation, but +her concern for Harold's safety had its weight with her, and she wisely +refrained from opposing their departure; and both the young men, aware +that a prolongation of their visit would cause the family at Riverside +manor much inconvenience and anxiety, straightway announced their +intention of proceeding northward on the following morning. + +But it was no part of Seth Rawbon's purpose to allow his rival, Hare, to +depart in peace. The chastisement which he had received at Harold's +hands added a most deadly hate to the jealousy which his knowledge of +Oriana's preference had caused. He had considerable influence with +several of the dissolute and lawless characters of the vicinity, and a +liberal allowance of Monongahela, together with sundry pecuniary favors, +enabled him to depend upon their assistance in any adventure that did +not promise particularly serious results. Now the capture and mock trial +of a couple of Yankee strangers did not seem much out of the way to +these not over-scrupulous worthies; and Rawbon's cunning +representations as to the extent of their abolition proclivities were +scarcely necessary, in view of the liberality of his bribes, to secure +their cooperation in his scheme. + +Rawbon had been prowling about the manor house during the day, in the +hope of obtaining some clue to the intentions of the inmates, and +observing a mulatto boy engaged in arranging the boat for present use, +he walked carelessly along the bank to the old boat-house, and, by a few +adroit questions, ascertained that "Missis and the two gen'lmen gwine to +take a sail this arternoon." + +The evening was drawing on apace when Oriana, accompanied by Arthur and +Harold, set forth on the last of the many excursions they had enjoyed on +James River; but they had purposely selected a late hour, that on their +return they might realize the tranquil pleasures of a sail by moonlight. +Beverly was busy finishing some correspondence for the North, which he +intended giving into the charge of his friend Arthur, and he therefore +remained at home. Phil, a smart mulatto, about ten years of age, who was +a general favorite in the family and an especial pet of Oriana, was +allowed to accompany the party. + +It was a lovely evening, only cool enough to be comfortable for Oriana +to be wrapped in her woollen shawl. As the shadows of twilight darkened +on the silent river, a spirit of sadness was with the party, that vague +and painful melancholy that weighs upon the heart when happy ties are +about to be sundered, and loved ones are about to part. Arthur had +brought his flute, and with an effort to throw off the feeling of gloom, +he essayed a lively air; but it seemed like discord by association with +their thoughts. He ceased abruptly, and, at Oriana's request, chose a +more mournful theme. When the last notes of the plaintive melody had +been lost in the stillness of the night, there was an oppressive pause, +only broken by the rustle of the little sail and the faint rippling of +the wave. + +"I seem to be sailing into the shadows of misfortune," said Oriana, in a +low, sad tone. "I wish the moon would rise, for this darkness presses +upon my heart like the fingers of a sorrowful destiny. What a coward I +am to-night!" + +"A most obedient satellite," replied Arthur. "Look where she heralds +her approach by spreading a misty glow on the brow of yonder hill." + +"We have left the shadows of misfortune behind us," said Harold, as a +flood of moonlight flashed over the river, seeming to dash a million of +diamonds in the path of the gliding boat. + +"Alas! the fickle orb!" murmured Oriana; "it rises but to mock us, and +hides itself already in the bosom of that sable cloud. Is there not a +threat of rain there, Mr. Hare?" + +"It looks unpromising, at the best," said Harold; "I think it would be +prudent to return." + +Suddenly, little Phil, who had been lying at ease, with his head against +the thwarts, arose on his elbow and cried out: + +"Wha'dat?" + +"What is what, Phil?" asked Oriana. "Why, Phil, you have been dreaming," +she added, observing the lad's confusion at having spoken so vehemently. + +"Miss Orany, dar's a boat out yonder. I heard 'em pulling, sure." + +"Nonsense, Phil! you've been asleep." + +"By Gol! I heard 'em, sure. What a boat doing round here dis time o' +night? Dem's some niggers arter chickens, sure." + +And little Phil, satisfied that he had fathomed the mystery, lay down +again in a fit of silent indignation. The boat was put about, but the +wind had died away, and the sail flapped idly against the mast. Harold, +glad of the opportunity for a little exercise, shipped the sculls and +bent to his work. + +"Miss Oriana, put her head for the bank if you please. We shall have +less current to pull against in-shore." + +The boat glided along under the shadow of the bank, and no sound was +heard but the regular thugging and splashing of the oars and the voices +of insects on the shore. They approached a curve in the river where the +bank was thickly wooded, and dense shrubbery projected over the stream. + +"Wha' dat?" shouted Phil again, starting up in the bow and peering into +the darkness. A boat shot out from the shadow of the foliage, and her +course was checked directly in their path. The movement was so sudden +that, before Harold could check his headway, the two boats fouled. A +boathook was thrust into the thwarts; Arthur sprang to the bows to cast +it off. + +"Don't touch that," shouted a hoarse voice; and he felt the muzzle of a +pistol thrust into his breast. + +"None of that, Seth," cried another; and the speaker laid hold of his +comrade's arm. "We must have no shooting, you know." + +Arthur had thrown off the boathook, but some half-dozen armed men had +already leaped into the frail vessel, crowding it to such an extent that +a struggle, even had it not been madness against such odds, would have +occasioned great personal danger to Oriana. Both Arthur and Harold +seemed instinctively to comprehend this, and therefore offered no +opposition. Their boat was taken in tow, and in a few moments the entire +party, with one exception, were landed upon the adjacent bank. That +exception was little Phil. In the confusion that ensued upon the +collision of the two boats, the lad had quietly slipped overboard, and +swam ground to the stern where his mistress sat. "Miss Orany, hist! Miss +Orany!" + +The bewildered girl turned and beheld the black face peering over the +gunwale. + +"Miss Orany, here I is. O Lor'! Miss Orany, what we gwine to do?" + +She bowed her head toward him and whispered hurriedly, but calmly: + +"Mind what I tell you, Phil. You watch where they take us to, and then +run home and tell Master Beverly. Do you understand me, Phil?" + +"Yes, I does, Miss Orany;" and the little fellow struck out silently for +the shore, and crept among the bushes. + +Oriana betrayed no sign, of fear as she stood with her two companions on +the bank a few paces from their captors. The latter, in a low but +earnest tone, were disputing with one who seemed to act as their leader. + +"You didn't tell us nothing about the lady," said a brawny, +rugged-looking fellow, angrily. "Now, look here, Seth Rawbon, this ain't +a goin' to do. I'd cut your heart out, before I'd let any harm come to +Squire Weems's sister." + +"You lied to us, you long-headed Yankee turncoat," muttered another. +"What in thunder do you mean bringing us down here for kidnapping a +lady?" + +"Ain't I worried about it as much as you?" answered Rawbon. "Can't you +understand it's all a mistake?" + +"Well, now, you go and apologize to Miss Weems and fix matters, d'ye +hear?" + +"But what can we do?" + +"Do? Undo what you've done, and show her back into the boat." + +"But the two abo"-- + +"Damn them and you along with 'em! Come, boys, don't let's keep the lady +waiting thar." + +The party approached their prisoners, and one among them, hat in hand, +respectfully addressed Oriana. + +"Miss Weems, we're plaguy sorry this should 'a happened. It's a mistake +and none of our fault. Your boat's down thar and yer shan't be +merlested." + +"Am I free to go?" asked Oriana, calmly. + +"Free as air, Miss Weems." + +"With my companions?" + +"No, they remain with us," said Rawbon. + +"Then I remain with them," she replied, with dignity and firmness. + +The man who had first remonstrated with Rawbon, stepped up to him and +laid his hand heavily on his shoulder: + +"Look here, Seth Rawbon, you've played out your hand in this game, now +mind that. Miss Weems, you're free to go, anyhow, with them chaps or +not, just as you like." + +They stepped down the embankment, but the boats were nowhere to be seen. +Rawbon, anticipating some trouble with his gang, had made a pretence +only of securing the craft to a neighboring bush. The current had +carried the boats out into the stream, and they had floated down the +river and were lost to sight in the darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +There was no remedy but to cross the woodland and cornfields that for +about a league intervened between their position and the highway. They +commenced the tedious tramp, Arthur and Harold exerting themselves to +the utmost to protect Oriana from the brambles, and to guide her +footsteps along the uneven ground and among the decayed branches and +other obstacles that beset their path. Their rude companions, too, with +the exception of Rawbon, who walked moodily apart, seemed solicitous to +assist her with their rough attentions. To add to the disagreeable +nature of their situation, the rain began to fall in torrents before +they had accomplished one half of the distance. They were then in the +midst of a tract of wooded land that was almost impassable for a lady in +the darkness, on account of the yielding nature of the soil, and the +numerous ruts and hollows that were soon transformed into miniature +pools and streams. Oriana strove to treat the adventure as a theme for +laughter, and for awhile chatted gaily with her companions; but it was +evident that she was fast becoming weary, and that her thin-shod feet +were wounded by constant contact with the twigs and sharp stones that it +was impossible to avoid in the darkness. Her dress was torn, and heavy +with mud and moisture, and the two young men were pained to perceive +that, in spite of her efforts and their watchful care, she stumbled +frequently with exhaustion, and leaned heavily on their arms as she +labored through the miry soil. + +One of the party opportunely remembered a charcoal-burner's hut in the +vicinity, that would at least afford a rude shelter from the driving +storm. Several of the men hastened in search of it, and soon a halloo +not far distant indicated that the cabin, such as it was, had been +discovered. As they approached, they were surprised to observe rays of +light streaming through the cracks and crevices, as if a fire were +blazing within. It was an uninviting structure, hastily constructed of +unhewn logs, and upon ordinary occasions Oriana would have hesitated to +pass the threshold; but wet and weary as she was, she was glad to +obtain the shelter of even so poor a hovel. + +"There's a runaway in thar, I reckon," said one of the party. He threw +open the door, and several of the men entered. A fire of logs was +burning on the earthen floor, and beside it was stretched a negro's +form, wrapped in a tattered blanket. He started up as his unwelcome +visitors entered, and looked frightened and bewildered, as if suddenly +awakened from a sound sleep. However, he had no sooner laid eyes upon +Seth Rawbon than, with a yell of fear, he sprang with a powerful leap +through the doorway, leaving his blanket in the hands of those who +sought to grasp him. + +"That's my nigger Jim!" cried Rawbon, discharging his revolver at the +dusky form as it ran like a deer into the shadow of the woods. At every +shot, the negro jumped and screamed, but, from his accelerated speed, +was apparently untouched. + +"After him, boys!" shouted Rawbon. "Five dollars apiece and a gallon of +whisky if you bring the varmint in." + +With a whoop, the whole party went off in chase and were soon lost to +view in the darkness. + +Harold and Arthur led Oriana into the hut, and, spreading their coats +upon the damp floor, made a rude couch for her beside the fire. The poor +girl was evidently prostrated with fatigue and excitement, yet, with a +faint laugh and a jest as she glanced around upon the questionable +accommodations, she thanked them for their kindness, and seated herself +beside the blazing fagots. + +"This is a strange finale to our pleasure excursion," she said, as the +grateful warmth somewhat revived her spirits. "You must acknowledge me a +prophetess, gentlemen," she added, with a smile, "for you see that we +sailed indeed into the shadows of misfortune." + +"Should your health not suffer from this exposure," replied Arthur, "our +adventure will prove no misfortune, but only a theme for mirth +hereafter, when we recall to mind our present piteous plight." + +"Oh, I am strong, Mr. Wayne," she answered cheerfully, perceiving the +expression of solicitude in the countenances of her companions, "and +have passed the ordeal of many a thorough wetting with impunity. Never +fear but I shall fare well enough. I am only sorry and ashamed that all +our boasted Virginia hospitality can afford you no better quarters than +this for your last night among us." + +"Apart from the discomfort to yourself, this little episode will only +make brighter by contrast my remembrance of the many happy hours we have +passed together," said Arthur, with a tone of deep feeling that caused +Oriana to turn and gaze thoughtfully into the flaming pile. + +Harold said nothing, and stood leaning moodily against the wall of the +hovel, evidently a prey to painful thoughts. His mind wandered into the +glooms of the future, and dwelt upon the hour when he, perhaps, should +tread with hostile arms the soil that was the birthplace of his beloved. +"Can it be possible," he thought, "that between us twain, united as we +are in soul, there can exist such variance of opinion as will make her +kin and mine enemies, and perhaps the shedders of each other's blood!" + +There was a pause, and Oriana, her raiment being partially dried, +rested her head upon her arm and slumbered. + +The storm increased in violence, and the rain, pelting against the cabin +roof, with its weird music, formed a dismal accompaniment to the +grotesque discomfort of their situation. Arthur threw fresh fuel upon +the fire, and the crackling twigs sent up a fitful flame, that fell +athwart the face of the sleeping girl, and revealed an expression of +sorrow upon her features that caused him to turn away with a sigh. + +"Arthur," asked Harold, abruptly, "do you think this unfortunate affair +at Sumter will breed much trouble?" + +"I fear it," said Arthur, sadly. "Our Northern hearts are made of +sterner stuff than is consistent with the spirit of conciliation." + +"And what of Southern hearts?" + +"You have studied them," said Arthur, with a pensive smile, and bending +his gaze upon the sleeping maiden. + +Harold colored slightly, and glanced half reproachfully at his friend. + +"I cannot help believing," continued the latter, "that we are blindly +invoking a fatal strife, more in the spirit of exaltation than of calm +and searching philosophy. I am confident that the elements of union +still exist within the sections, but my instinct, no less than my +judgment, tells me that they will no longer exist when the +chariot-wheels of war shall have swept over the land. Whatever be the +disparity of strength, wealth and numbers, and whatever may be the +result of encounters upon the battle-field, such a terrible war as both +sides are capable of waging can never build up or sustain a fabric whose +cement must be brotherhood and kindly feeling. I would as soon think to +woo the woman of my choice with angry words and blows, as to reconcile +our divided fellow citizens by force of arms." + +"You are more a philosopher than a patriot," said Harold, with some +bitterness. + +"Not so," answered Arthur, warmly. "I love my country--so well, indeed, +that I cannot be aroused into hostility to any section of it. My reason +does not admit the necessity for civil war, and it becomes therefore a +sacred obligation with me to give my voice against the doctrine of +coercion. My judgment may err, or my sensibilities may be 'too full of +the milk of human kindness' to serve the stern exigencies of the crisis +with a Spartan's callousness and a Roman's impenetrability; but for you +to affirm that, because true to my own opinions, I must be false to my +country, is to deny me that independence of thought to which my country, +as a nation, owes its existence and its grandeur." + +"You boast your patriotism, and yet you seem to excuse those who seek +the dismemberment of your country." + +"I do not excuse them, but I would not have them judged harshly, for I +believe they have acted under provocation." + +"What provocation can justify rebellion against a government so +beneficent as ours?" + +"I will not pretend to justify, because I think there is much to be +forgiven on either side. But if anything can palliate the act, it is +that system of determined hostility which for years has been levelled +against an institution which they believe to be righteous and founded +upon divine precept. But I think this is not the hour for justification +or for crimination. I am convinced that the integrity of the Union can +only be preserved by withholding the armed hand at this crisis. And +pray Heaven, our government may forbear to strike!" + +"Would you, then, have our flag trampled upon with impunity, and our +government confessed a cipher, because, forsooth, you have a +constitutional repugnance to the severities of warfare? Away with such +sickly sentimentality! Such theories, if carried into practice, would +reduce us to a nation of political dwarfs and puny drivellers, fit only +to grovel at the footstools of tyrants." + +"I could better bear an insult to our flag than a deathblow to our +nationality. And I feel that our nationality would not survive a +struggle between the sections. There is no danger that we should be +dwarfed in intellect or spirit by practising forbearance toward our +brothers." + +"Is treason less criminal because it is the treason of brother against +brother? If so, then must a traitor of necessity go unpunished, since +the nature of the crime requires that the culprit be your countryman. +How hollow are your arguments when applied to existing facts!" + +"You forget that I counsel moderation as an expediency, as even a +necessity, for the public good. It were poor policy to compass the +country's ruin for the sake of bringing chastisement upon error." + +"That can be but a questionable love of country that would humiliate a +government to the act of parleying with rebellion." + +"My love of country is not confined to one section of the country, or to +one division of my countrymen. The lessons of the historic past have +taught me otherwise. If, when a schoolboy, poring over the pages of my +country's history, I have stood, in imagination, with Prescott at Bunker +Hill, and stormed with Ethan Allen at the gates of Ticonderoga, I have +also mourned with Washington at Valley Forge, and followed Marion and +Sumter through the wilds of Carolina. If I have fancied myself at work +with Yankee sailors at the guns, and poured the shivering broadside into +the Guerriere, I have helped to man the breastworks at New Orleans, and +seen the ranks that stood firm at Waterloo wavering before the blaze of +Southern rifles. If I have read of the hardy Northern volunteers on the +battle-plains of Mexico; I remember the Palmetto boys at Cherubusco, +and the brave Mississippians at Buena Vista. Is it a wonder, then, that +my heartstrings ache when I see the links breaking that bind me to such +memories? If I would have the Government parley awhile for the sake of +peace, even although the strict law sanction the bayonet and cannon, I +do it in the name of the sacred past, when the ties of brotherhood were +strong. I counsel not humiliation nor submission, but conciliation. I +counsel it, not only as an expedient, but as a tribute to the affinities +of almost a century. I love the Union too well to be willing that its +fate should be risked upon the uncertainties of war. I believe in my +conscience that the chances of its reconstruction depend rather upon +negotiation than upon battles. I may err, or you, as my opponent in +opinion, may err; for while I assume not infallibility for myself, I +deny it, with justice, to my neighbor. But I think as my heart and +intellect dictate, and my patriotism should not be questioned by one as +liable to error as myself. Should I yield my honest convictions upon a +question of such vital importance as my country's welfare, then indeed +should I be a traitor to my country and myself. But to accuse me of +questionable patriotism for my independence of thought, is, in itself, +treason against God and man." + +"I believe you sincere in your convictions, Arthur, not because touched +by your argument, but because I have known you too long and well to +believe you capable of an unworthy motive. But what, in the name of +common justice, would you have us do, when rebellion already thunders at +the gates of our citadels with belching cannon? Shall we sit by our +firesides and nod to the music of their artillery?" + +"I would have every American citizen, in this crisis, as in all others, +divest himself of all prejudice and sectional feeling: I would have him +listen to and ponder upon the opinions of his fellow citizens, and, with +the exercise of his best judgment, to discard the bad, and take counsel +from the good; then, I would have him conclude for himself, not whether +his flag has been insulted, or whether there are injuries to avenge, or +criminals to be punished, but what is best and surest to be done for +the welfare of his country. If he believe the Union can only be +preserved by war, let his voice be for war; if by peace, let him counsel +peace, as I do, from my heart; if he remain in doubt, let him incline to +peace, secure that in so doing he will best obey the teachings of +Christianity, the laws of humanity, and the mighty voice that is +speaking from the soul of enlightenment, pointing out the errors of the +past, and disclosing the secret of human happiness for the future." + +Arthur's eye kindled as he spoke, and the flush of excitement, to which +he was habitually a stranger, colored his pale cheek. Oriana had +awakened with the vehemence of his language, and gazing with interest +upon his now animated features, had been listening to his closing words. +Harold was about to answer, when suddenly the baying of a hound broke +through the noise of the storm. + +"That is a bloodhound!" exclaimed Harold with an accent of surprise. + +"Oh, no," said Oriana. "There are no bloodhounds in this neighborhood, +nor are they at all in use, I am sure, in Virginia." + +"I am not mistaken," replied Harold. "I have been made familiar with +their baying while surveying on the coast of Florida. Listen!" + +The deep, full tones came swelling upon the night wind, and fell with a +startling distinctness upon the ear. + +"It's my hound, Mister Hare," said a low, coarse voice at the doorway, +and Seth Rawbon entered the cabin and closed the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +"It's my hound. Miss Weems, and I guess he's on the track of that +nigger, Jim." + +Oriana started as if stung by a serpent, and rising to her feet, looked +upon the man with such an expression of contempt and loathing that the +ruffian's brow grew black with anger as he returned her gaze. Harold +confronted him, and spoke in a low, earnest tone, and between his +clenched teeth: + +"If you are a man you will go at once. This persecution of a woman is +beneath even your brutality. If you have an account with me, I will not +balk you. But relieve her from the outrage of your presence here." + +"I guess I'd better be around," replied Rawbon, coolly, as he leaned +against the door, with his hands in his coat pocket. "That dog is +dangerous when he's on the scent. You see, Miss Weems," he continued, +speaking over Harold's shoulder, "my niggers are plaguy troublesome, +and I keep the hound to cow them down a trifle. But he wouldn't hurt a +lady, I think--unless I happened to encourage him a bit, do you see." + +And the man showed his black teeth with a grin that caused Oriana to +shudder and turn away. + +Harold's brow was like a thunder-cloud, from beneath which his eyes +flashed like the lightning at midnight. + +"Your words imply a threat which I cannot understand. Ruffian! What do +mean?" + +"I mean no good to you, my buck!" + +His lip, with the deep cut upon it, curled with hate, but he still +leaned coolly against the door, though a quick ear might have caught a +click, as if he had cocked a pistol in his pocket. It was a habit with +Harold to go unarmed. Fearless and self-reliant by nature, even upon his +surveying expeditions in wild and out of the way districts, he carried +no weapon beyond sometimes a stout oaken staff. But now, his form +dilated, and the muscles of his arm contracted, as if he were about to +strike. Oriana understood the movement and the danger. She advanced +quietly but quickly to his side, and took his hand within her own. + +"He is not worth your anger, Harold. For my sake, Harold, do not provoke +him further," she added softly, as she drew him from the spot. + +At this moment the baying of the hound was heard, apparently in close +proximity to the hovel, and presently there was a heavy breathing and +snuffling at the threshold, followed by a bound against the door, and a +howl of rage and impatience. Nothing prevented the entrance of the +animal except the form of Rawbon, who still leaned quietly against the +rude frame, which, hanging upon leathern hinges, closed the aperture. + +There was something frightful in the hoarse snarling of the angry beast, +as he dashed his heavy shoulder against the rickety framework, and +Oriana shrank nervously to Harold's side. + +"Secure that dog!" he said, as, while soothing the trembling girl, he +looked over his shoulder reproachfully at Rawbon. His tone was low, and +even gentle, but it was tremulous with passion. But the man gave no +answer, and continued leering at them as before. + +Arthur walked to him and spoke almost in an accent of entreaty. + +"Sir, for the sake of your manhood, take away your dog and leave us." + +He did not answer. + +The hound, excited by the sound of voices, redoubled his efforts and his +fury. Oriana was sinking into Harold's arms. + +"This must end," he muttered. "Arthur, take her from me, she's fainting. +I'll go out and brain the dog." + +"Not yet, not yet," whispered Arthur. "For her sake be calm," and while +he received Oriana upon one arm, with the other he sought to stay his +friend. + +But Harold seized a brand from the fire, and sprang toward the door. + +"Stand from the door," he shouted, lifting the brand above Rawbon's +head. "Leave that, I say!" + +Rawbon's lank form straightened, and in an instant the revolver flashed +in the glare of the fagots. + +He did not shoot, but his face grew black with passion. + +"By God! you strike me, and I'll set the dog at the woman." + +At the sound of his master's voice, the hound set up a yell that seemed +unearthly. Harold was familiar with the nature of the species, and even +in the extremity of his anger, his anxiety for Oriana withheld his arm. + +"Look you here!" continued Rawbon, losing his quiet, mocking tone, and +fairly screaming with excitement, "do you see this?" He pointed to his +mangled lip, from which, by the action of his jaws while talking, the +plaster had just been torn, and the blood was streaming out afresh. "Do +you see this? I've got that to settle with you. I'll hunt you, by G--d! +as that hound hunts a nigger. Now see if I don't spoil that pretty face +of yours, some day, so that she won't look so sweet on you for all your +pretty talk." + +He seemed to calm abruptly after this, put up his pistol, and resumed +the wicked leer. + +"What would you have?" at last asked Arthur, mildly and with no trace of +anger in his voice. + +Rawbon turned to him with a searching glance, and, after a pause, said: + +"Terms." + +"What?" + +"I want to make terms with you." + +"About what?" + +"About this whole affair." + +"Well. Go on." + +"I know you can hurt me for this with the law, and I know you mean to. +Now I want this matter hushed up." + +Harold would have spoken, but Arthur implored him with a glance, and +answered: + +"What assurance can you give us against your outrages in the future?" + +"None." + +"None! Then why should we compromise with you?" + +"Because I've got the best hand to-night, and you know it. For her, you +know, you'll do 'most anything--now, won't you?" + +The fellow's complaisant smile caused Arthur to look away with disgust. +He turned to Harold, and they were conferring about Rawbon's strange +proposition, when Oriana raised her head suddenly and her face assumed +an expression of attention, as if her ear had caught a distant sound. +She had not forgotten little Phil, and knowing his sagacity and +faithfulness, she depended much upon his having followed her +instructions. And indeed, a moment after, the plashing of the hoofs of +horses in the wet soil could be distinctly heard. + +"Them's my overseer and his man, I guess," said Rawbon, with composure, +and he smiled again as he observed how effectually he had checked the +gleam of joy that had lightened Oriana's face. + +"'Twas he, you see, that set the dog on Jim's track, and now he's +following after, that's all." + +He had scarcely concluded, when a vigorous and excited voice was heard, +shouting: "There 'tis!--there's the hut, gentlemen! Push on!" + +"It is my brother! my brother!" cried Oriana, clasping her hands with +joy; and for the first time that night she burst into tears and sobbed +on Harold's shoulder. + +Rawbon's face grew livid with rage and disappointment. He flung open the +door and sprang out into the open air; but Oriana could see him pause +an instant at the threshold, and stooping, point into the cabin. The low +hissing word of command that accompanied the action reached her ear. She +knew what it meant and a faint shriek burst from her lips, more perhaps +from horror at the demoniac cruelty of the man, than from fear. The next +moment, a gigantic bloodhound, gaunt, mud-bespattered and with the froth +of fury oozing from his distended jaws, plunged through the doorway and +stood glaring in the centre of the cabin. + +Oriana stood like a sculptured ideal of terror, white and immovable; +Harold with his left arm encircled the rigid form, while his right hand +was uplifted, weaponless, but clenched with the energy of despair, till +the blood-drops burst from his palm. But Arthur stepped before them both +and fixed his calm blue eyes upon the monster's burning orbs. There was +neither fear, nor excitement, nor irresolution in that steadfast +gaze--it was like the clear, straightforward glance of a father checking +a wayward child--even the habitual sadness lingered in the deep azure, +and the features only changed to be cast in more placid mold. It was +the struggle of a brave and tranquil soul with the ferocious instincts +of the brute. The hound, crouched for a deadly spring, was fascinated by +this spectacle of the utter absence of emotion. His huge chest heaved +like a billow with his labored respiration, but the regular breathing of +the being that awed him was like that of a sleeping child. For full five +minutes--but it seemed an age--this silent but terrible duel was being +fought, and yet no succor came. Beverly and those who came with him must +have changed their course to pursue the fleeing Rawbon. + +"Lead her out softly, Harold," murmured Arthur, without changing a +muscle or altering his gaze. But the agony of suspense had been too +great--Oriana, with a convulsive shudder, swooned and hung like a corpse +upon Harold's arm. + +"Oh, God! she is dying, Arthur!" he could not help exclaiming, for it +was indeed a counterpart of death that he held in his embrace. + +Then only did Arthur falter for an instant, and the hound was at his +throat. The powerful jaws closed with a snap upon his shoulder, and you +might have heard the sharp fangs grate against the bone. The shock of +the spring brought Arthur to the ground, and man and brute rolled over +together, and struggled in the mud and gore. Harold bore the lifeless +girl out into the air, and returning, closed the door. He seized a +brand, and with both hands levelled a fierce blow at the dog's neck. The +stick shivered like glass, but the creature only shook his grisly head, +but never quit his hold. With his bare hand he seized the live coals +from the thickest of the fire and pressed them against the flanks and +stomach of the tenacious animal; the brute howled and quivered in every +limb, but still the blood-stained fangs were firmly set into the +lacerated flesh. With both hands clasped around the monster's throat, he +exerted his strength till the finger-bones seemed to crack. He could +feel the pulsations of the dog's heart grow fainter and slower, and +could see in his rolling and upheaved eyeballs that the death-pang was +upon him; but those iron jaws still were locked in the torn shoulder; +and as Harold beheld the big drops start from his friend's ashy brow, +and his eyes filming with the leaden hue of unconsciousness, the +agonizing thought came to him that the dog and the man were dying +together in that terrible embrace. + +It was then that he fairly sobbed with the sensation of relief, as he +heard the prancing of steeds close by the cabin-door; and Beverly, +entering hastily, with a cry of horror, stood one moment aghast as he +looked on the frightful scene. Then, with repeated shots from his +revolver, he scattered the dog's brains over Arthur's blood-stained +bosom. + +Harold arose, and, faint and trembling with excitement and exhaustion, +leaned against the wall. Beverly knelt by the side of the wounded man, +and placed his hand above his heart. Harold turned to him with an +anxious look. + +"He has but fainted from loss of blood," said Beverly. "Harold, where is +my sister?" + +As he spoke, Oriana, who, in the fresh night air, had recovered from her +swoon, pale and with dishevelled hair, appeared at the cabin-door. +Harold and Beverly sought to lead her out before her eyes fell upon +Arthur's bleeding form; but she had already seen the pale, calm face, +clotted with blood, but with the beautiful sad smile still lingering +upon the parted lips. She appeared to see neither Harold nor her +brother, but only those tranquil features, above which the angel of +Death seemed already to have brushed his dewy wing. She put aside +Beverly's arm, which was extended to support her, and thrust him away as +if he had been a stranger. She unloosed her hand from Harold's +affectionate grasp, and with a long and suppressed moan of intense +anguish, she kneeled down in the little pool of blood beside the +extended form, with her hands tightly clasped, and wept bitterly. + +They raised her tenderly, and assured her that Arthur was not dead. + +"Oh, no! oh, no!" she murmured, as the tears streamed out afresh, "he +must not die! He must not die for _me_! He is so good! so brave! A +child's heart, with the courage of a lion. Oh, Harold! why did you not +save him?" + +But as she took Harold's hand almost reproachfully, she perceived that +it was black and burnt, and he too was suffering; and she leaned her +brow upon his bosom and sobbed with a new sorrow. + +Beverly was almost vexed at the weakness his sister displayed. It was +unusual to her, and he forgot her weariness and the trial she had +passed. He had been binding some linen about Arthur's shoulder, and he +looked up and spoke to her in a less gentle tone. + +"Oriana, you are a child to-night. I have never seen you thus. Come, +help me with this bandage." + +She sighed heavily, but immediately ceased to weep, and said "Yes," +calmly and with firmness. Bending beside her brother, without faltering +or shrinking, she gave her white fingers to the painful task. + +In the stormy midnight, by the fitful glare of the dying embers, those +two silent men and that pale woman seemed to be keeping a vigil in an +abode of death. And the pattering rain and moan of the night-wind +sounded like a dirge. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Several gentlemen of the neighborhood, whom Beverly, upon hearing little +Phil's story, had hastily summoned to his assistance, now entered the +cabin, together with the male negroes of his household, who had mounted +the farm horses and eagerly followed to the rescue of their young +mistress. They had been detained without by an unsuccessful pursuit of +Rawbon, whose flight they had discovered, but who had easily evaded them +in the darkness. A rude litter was constructed for Arthur, but Oriana +declared herself well able to proceed on horseback, and would not listen +to any suggestion of delay on her account. She mounted Beverly's horse, +while he and Harold supplied themselves from among the horses that the +negroes had rode, and thus, slowly and silently, they threaded the +lonely forest, while ever and anon a groan from the litter struck +painfully upon their ears. + +Arrived at the manor house, a physician who had been summoned, +pronounced Arthur's hurt to be serious, but not dangerous. Upon +receiving this intelligence, Oriana and Harold were persuaded to retire, +and Beverly and his aunt remained as watchers at the bedside of the +wounded man. + +Oriana, despite her agitation, slept well, her rest being only disturbed +by fitful dreams, in which Arthur's pale face seemed ever present, now +smiling upon her mournfully, and now locked in the repose of death. She +arose somewhat refreshed, though still feverish and anxious, and walking +upon the veranda to breathe the morning air, she was joined by Harold, +with his hand in a sling, and much relieved by the application of a +poultice, which the skill of Miss Randolph had prepared. He informed her +that Arthur was sleeping quietly, and that she might dismiss all fears +as to his safety; and perhaps, if he had watched her closely, the +earnest expression of something more than pleasure with which she +received this assurance, might have given him cause for rumination. +Beverly descended soon afterward, and confirmed the favorable report +from the sick chamber, and Oriana retired into the house to assist in +preparing the morning meal. + +"Let us take a stroll by the riverside," said Beverly; "the air breathes +freshly after my night's vigil." + +"The storm has left none but traces of beauty behind," observed Harold, +as they crossed the lawn. The loveliness of the early morning was indeed +a pleasant sequel to the rude tempest of the preceding night. The +dewdrops glistened upon grass-blade and foliage, and the bosom of the +stream flashed merrily in the sunbeams. + +"It is," answered Beverly, "as if Nature were rejoicing that the war of +the elements is over, and a peace proclaimed. Would that the black cloud +upon our political horizon had as happily passed away." + +After a pause, he continued: "Harold, you need not fear to remain with +us a while longer. I am sure that Rawbon's confederates are heartily +ashamed of their participation in last night's outrage, and will on no +account be seduced to a similar adventure. Rawbon himself will not be +likely to show himself in this vicinity for some time to come, unless +as the inmate of a jail, for I have ordered a warrant to be issued +against him. The whole affair has resulted evidently from some +unaccountable antipathy which the fellow entertains against us." + +"I agree with you," replied Harold, "but still I think this is an +unpropitious time for the prolongation of my visit. There are events, I +fear, breeding for the immediate future, in which I must take a part. I +shall only remain with you a few days, that I may be assured of Arthur's +safety." + +"I will not disguise from you my impression that Virginia will withdraw +from the Union. In that case, we will be nominal enemies. God grant that +our paths may not cross each other." + +"Amen!" replied Harold, with much feeling. "But I do not understand why +we should be enemies. You surely will not lend your voice to this +rebellion?" + +"When the question of secession is before the people of my State, I +shall cast my vote as my judgment and conscience shall dictate. +Meanwhile I shall examine the issue, and, I trust, dispassionately. But +whatever may become of my individual opinion, where Virginia goes I go, +whatever be the event." + +"Would you uphold a wrong in the face of your own conscience?" + +"Oh, as to that, I do not hold it a question between right and wrong, +but simply of advisability. The right of secession I entertain no doubt +about." + +"No doubt as to the right of dismembering and destroying a government +which has fostered your infancy, developed your strength, and made you +one among the parts of a nation that has no peer in a world's history? +Is it possible that intellect and honesty can harbor such a doctrine!" + +"My dear Harold, you look at the subject as an enthusiast, and you allow +your heart not to assist but to control your brain. Men, by association, +become attached to forms and symbols, so as in time to believe that upon +their existence depends the substance of which they are but the signs. +Forty years ago, in the Hawaiian Islands, the death-penalty was +inflicted upon a native of the inferior caste, should he chance to pass +over the shadow of one of noble birth. So would you avenge an insult to +a shadow, while you allow the substance to be stolen from your grasp. +Our jewel, as freemen, is the right of self-government; the form of +government is a mere convenience--a machine, which may be dismembered, +destroyed, remodelled a thousand times, without detriment to the great +principle of which it is the outward sign." + +"You draw a picture of anarchy that would disgrace a confederation of +petty savage tribes. What miserable apology for a government would that +be whose integrity depends upon the caprice of the governed?" + +"It is as likely that a government should become tyrannical, as that a +people should become capricious. You have simply chosen an unfair word. +For _caprice_ substitute _will_, and you have my ideal of a true +republic." + +"And by that ideal, one State, by its individual act, might overturn the +entire system adopted for the convenience and safety of the whole." + +"Not so. It does not follow that the system should be overturned because +circumscribed in limit, more than that a business firm should +necessarily be ruined by the withdrawal of a partner. Observe, Harold, +that the General Government was never a sovereignty, and came into +existence only by the consent of each and every individual State. The +States were the sovereignties, and their connection with the Union, +being the mere creature of their will, can exist only by that will." + +"Why, Beverly, you might as well argue that this pencil-case, which +became mine by an act of volition on your part, because you gave it me, +ceases to be mine when you reclaim it." + +"If I had appointed you my amanuensis, and had transferred my pencil to +you simply for the purposes of your labor in my behalf, when I choose to +dismiss you, I should expect the return of my property. The States made +no gifts to the Federal Government for the sake of giving, but only +delegated certain powers for specific purposes. They never could have +delegated the power of coercion, since no one State or number of States +possessed that power as against their sister States." + +"But surely, in entering into the bonds of union, they formed a +contract with each other which should be inviolable." + +"Then, at the worst, the seceding States are guilty of a breach of +contract with the remaining States, but not with the General Government, +with which they made no contract. They formed a union, it is true. But +of what? Of sovereignties. How can those States be sovereignties which +admit a power above them, possessing the right of coercion? To admit the +right of coercion is to deny the existence of sovereignty." + +"You can find nothing in the Constitution to intimate the right of +secession." + +"Because its framers considered the right sufficiently established by +the very nature of the confederation. The fears upon the subject that +were expressed by Patrick Henry, and other zealous supporters of State +Rights, were quieted by the assurances of the opposite party, who +ridiculed the idea that a convention, similar to that which in each +State adopted the Constitution, could not thereafter, in representation +of the popular will, withdraw such State from the confederacy. You +have, in proof of this, but to refer to the annals of the occasion." + +"I discard the theory as utterly inconsistent with any legislative +power. We have either a government or we have not. If we have one, it +must possess within itself the power to sustain itself. Our chief +magistrate becomes otherwise a mere puppet, and our Congress a shallow +mockery, and the shadow only of a legislative body. Our nationality +becomes a word, and nothing more. Our place among the nations becomes +vacant, and the great Republic, our pride and the world's wonder, +crumbles into fragments, and with its downfall perishes the hope of the +oppressed of every clime. I wonder, Beverly, that you can coldly argue +against the very life of your country, and not feel the parricide's +remorse! Have you no lingering affection for the glorious structure +which our fathers built for and bequeathed to us, and which you now seek +to hurl from its foundations? Have you no pride and love for the brave +old flag that has been borne in the vanguard to victory so often, that +has shrouded the lifeless form of Lawrence, that has gladdened the +heart of the American wandering in foreign climes, and has spread its +sacred folds over the head of Washington, here, on your own native +soil?" + +"Yes, Harold, yes! I love the Union, and I love and am proud of the +brave old flag; I would die for either, and, although I reason with you +coldly, my soul yearns to them both, and my heart aches when I think +that soon, perhaps, they will no more belong to me. But I must sacrifice +even my pride and love to a stern sense of duty. So Washington did, when +he hurled his armed squadrons against the proud banner of St. George, +under which he had been trained in soldiership, and had won the laurel +of his early fame. He, too, no doubt, was not without a pang, to be +sundered from his share of Old England's glorious memories, the land of +his allegiance, the king whom he had served, the soil where the bones of +his ancestors lay at rest. It would cause me many a throb of agony to +draw my sword against the standard of the Republic--but I would do it, +Harold, if my conscience bade me, although my nearest friends, although +you, Harold--and I love you dearly--were in the foremost rank." + +"Where I will strive to be, should my country call upon me. But Heaven +forbid that we should meet thus, Beverly!" + +"Heaven forbid?" he replied, with a sigh, as he pressed Harold's hand. +"But yonder comes little Phil, running like mad, to tell us, doubtless, +that breakfast is cold with waiting for us." + +They retraced their steps, and found Miss Randolph and Oriana awaiting +their presence at the breakfast-table. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +During the four succeeding days, the house hold at Riverside manor were +much alarmed for Arthur's safety, for a violent fever had ensued, and, +to judge from the physician's evasive answers, the event was doubtful. +The family were unremitting in their attentions, and Oriana, quietly, +but with her characteristic self-will, insisted upon fulfilling her +share of the duties of a nurse. And no hand more gently smoothed the +sick man's pillow or administered more tenderly the cooling draught. It +seemed that Arthur's sleep was calmer when her form was bending over +him, and even when his thoughts were wandering and his eyes were +restless with delirium, they turned to welcome her as she took her +accustomed seat. Once, while she watched there alone in the twilight, +the open book unheeded in her hand, and her subdued eyes bent +thoughtfully upon his face as he slept unconscious of her presence, she +saw the white lips move and heard the murmur of the low, musical voice. +Her fair head was bent to catch the words--they were the words of +delirium or of dreams, but they brought a blush to her cheek. And yet +she bent her head still lower and listened, until her forehead rested on +the pillow, and when she looked up again with a sigh, and fixed her eyes +mechanically on the page before her, there was a trace of tears upon the +drooping lashes. + +He awoke from a refreshing slumber and it seemed that the fever was +gone; for his glance was calm and clear, and the old smile was upon his +lips. When he beheld Oriana, a slight flush passed over his cheek. + +"Are you indeed there, Miss Weems," he said, "or do I still dream? I +have been dreaming, I know not what, but I was very happy." He sighed, +and closed his eyes, as if he longed to woo back the vision which had +fled. She seemed to know what he had been dreaming, for while his cheek +paled again, hers glowed like an autumn cloud at sunset. + +"I trust you are much better, Mr. Wayne?" + +"Oh yes, much better. I fear I have been very troublesome to you all. +You have been very kind to me." + +"Do not speak so, Mr. Wayne," she replied, and a tear glistened in her +eyes. "If you knew how grateful we all are to you! You have suffered +terribly for my sake, Mr. Wayne. You have a brave, pure heart, and I +could hate myself with thinking that I once dared to wrong and to insult +it." + +"In my turn, I say do not speak so. I pray you, let there be no thoughts +between us that make you unhappy. What you accuse yourself of, I have +forgotten, or remember only as a passing cloud that lingered for a +moment on a pure and lovely sky. There must be no self-reproaches +between us twain, Miss Weems, for we must become strangers to each other +in this world, and when we part I would not leave with you one bitter +recollection." + +There was sorrow in his tone, and the young girl paused awhile and gazed +through the lattice earnestly into the gathering gloom of evening. + +"We must not be strangers, Mr. Wayne." + +"Alas! yes, for to be otherwise were fatal, at least to me." + +She did not answer, and both remained silent and thoughtful, so long, +indeed, that the night shadows obscured the room. Oriana arose and lit +the lamp. + +"I must go and prepare some supper for you," she said, in a lighter +tone. + +He took her hand as she stood at his bed-side and spoke in a low but +earnest voice: + +"You must forget what I have said to you, Miss Weems. I am weak and +feverish, and my brain has been wandering among misty dreams. If I have +spoken indiscreetly, you will forgive me, will you not?" + +"It is I that am to be forgiven, for allowing my patient to talk when +the doctor prescribes silence. I am going to get your supper, for I am +sure you must be hungry; so, good bye," she added gaily, as she smoothed +the pillow, and glided from the room. Oriana was silent and reserved for +some days after this, and Harold seemed also to be disturbed and ill at +ease. Some link appeared to be broken between them, for she did not look +into his eyes with the same frank, trusting gaze that had so often +returned his glance of tenderness, and sometimes even she looked +furtively away with heightened color, when, with some gentle +commonplace, his voice broke in upon her meditation. Arthur was now able +to sit for some hours daily in his easy-chair, and Oriana often came to +him at such times, and although they conversed but rarely, and upon +indifferent themes, she was never weary of reading to him, at his +request, some favorite book. And sometimes, as the author's sentiment +found an echo in her heart, she would pause and gaze listlessly at the +willow branches that waved before the casement, and both would remain +silent and pensive, till some member of the family entered, and broke in +upon their revery. + +"Come, Oriana," said Harold, one afternoon, "let us walk to the top of +yonder hillock, and look at this glorious sunset." + +She went for her bonnet and shawl, and joined him. They had reached the +summit of the hill before either of them broke silence, and then Oriana +mechanically made some commonplace remark about the beauty of the +western sky. He replied with a monosyllable, and sat down upon a +moss-covered rock. She plucked a few wild-flowers, and toyed with them. + +"Oriana, Arthur is much better now." + +"Much better, Harold." + +"I have no fears for his safety now. I think I shall go to-morrow." + +"Go, Harold?" + +"Yes, to New York. The President has appealed to the States for troops. +I am no soldier, but I cannot remain idle while my fellow citizens are +rallying to arms." + +"Will you fight, Harold?" + +"If needs be." + +"Against your countrymen?" + +"Against traitors." + +"Against me, perhaps." + +"Heaven forbid that the blood of any of your kin should be upon my +hands. I know how much you have suffered, dearest, with the thought that +this unhappy business may separate us for a time. Think you that the eye +of affection could fail to notice your dejection and reflective mood for +some days past?" + +Her face grew crimson, and she tore nervously the petals of the flower +in her hand. + +"Oriana, you are my betrothed, and no earthly discords should sever our +destinies or estrange our hearts. Why should we part at all. Be mine at +once, Oriana, and go with me to the loyal North, for none may tell how +soon a barrier may be set between your home and me." + +"That would be treason to my kindred and the home of my birth." + +"And to be severed from me--would it not be treason to your heart?" + +She did not answer. + +"I have spoken to Beverly about it, and he will not seek to control you. +We are most unhappy, Oriana, in our national troubles; why should we be +so in our domestic ties. We can be blest, even among the rude alarms of +war. This strife will soon be over, and you shall see the old homestead +once again. But while the dark cloud lowers, I call upon you, in the +name of your pledged affection, to share my fortunes with me, and bless +me with this dear hand." + +That hand remained passively within his own, but her bosom swelled with +emotion, and presently the large tears rolled upon her cheek. He would +have pressed her to his bosom, but she gently turned from him, and +sinking upon the sward, sobbed through her clasped fingers. + +"Why are you thus unhappy, dear Oriana?" he murmured, as he bent +tenderly above her. "Surely you do not love me less because of this +poison of rebellion that infects the land. And with love, woman's best +consolation, to be your comforter, why should you be unhappy?" + +She arose, pale and excited, and raised his hand to her lips. The act +seemed to him a strange one for an affianced bride, and he gazed upon +her with a troubled air. + +"Let us go home, Harold." + +"But tell me that you love me." + +She placed her two hands lightly about his neck, and looked up +mournfully but steadily into his face. + +"I will be your true wife, Harold, and pray heaven I may love you as you +deserve to be loved. But I am not well to-day, Harold. Let us speak no +more of this now, for there is something at my heart that must be +quieted with penitence and prayer. Oh, do not question me, Harold," she +added, as she leaned her cheek upon his breast; "we will talk with +Beverly, and to-morrow I shall be stronger and less foolish. Come, +Harold, let us go home." + +She placed her arm within his, and they walked silently homeward. When +they reached the house, Oriana was hastening to her chamber, but she +lingered at the threshold, and returned to Harold. + +"I am not well to-night, and shall not come down to tea. Good night, +Harold. Smile upon me as you were wont to do," she added, as she pressed +his hand and raised her swollen eyes, beneath whose white lids were +crushed two teardrops that were striving to burst forth. "Give me the +smile of the old time, and the old kiss, Harold," and she raised her +forehead to receive it. "Do not look disturbed; I have but a headache, +and shall be well to-morrow. Good night--dear--Harold." + +She strove to look pleasantly as she left the room, but Harold was +bewildered and anxious, and, till the summons came for supper, he paced +the veranda with slow and meditative steps. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The following morning was warm and springlike, and Arthur was +sufficiently strong and well to walk out a little in the open air. He +had been seated upon the veranda conversing with Beverly and Harold, +when the latter proposed a stroll with Beverly, with whom he wished to +converse in relation to his proposed marriage. As the beams of the +unclouded sun had already chased away the morning dew, and the air was +warm and balmy, Arthur walked out into the garden and breathed the +freshness of the atmosphere with the exhilaration of a convalescent +freed for the first time from the sick-room. Accidentally, or by +instinct, he turned his steps to the little grove which he knew was +Oriana's favorite haunt; and there, indeed, she sat, upon the rustic +bench, above which the drooping limbs of the willow formed a leafy +canopy. The pensive girl, her white hand, on which she leaned, buried +among the raven tresses, was gazing fixedly into the depths of the +clear sky, as if she sought to penetrate that azure veil, and find some +hope realized among the mysteries of the space beyond. The neglected +volume had fallen from her lap, and lay among the bluebells at her feet. +Arthur's feeble steps were unheard upon the sward, and he had taken his +seat beside her, before, conscious of an intruder, she started from her +dream. + +"The first pilgrimage of my convalescence is to your bower, my gentle +nurse. I have come to thank you for more kindness than I can ever repay, +except with grateful thoughts." + +She had risen when she became aware of his presence; and when she +resumed her seat, it seemed with hesitation, and almost an effort, as if +two impulses were struggling within her. But her pleasure to see him +abroad again was too hearty to be checked, and she timidly gave him the +hand which his extended palm invited to a friendly grasp. + +"Indeed, Mr. Wayne, I am very glad to see you so far recovered." + +"To your kind offices chiefly I owe it, and those of my good friends, +your brother and Harold, and our excellent Miss Randolph. My sick-room +has been the test of so much friendship, that I could almost be sinful +enough to regret the returning health which makes me no longer a +dependent on your care. But you are pale, Miss Weems. Or is it that my +eyes are unused to this broad daylight? Indeed, I trust you are not +ill?" + +"Oh, no, I am quite well," she answered; but it was with an involuntary +sigh that was in contrast with the words. "But you are not strong yet, +Mr. Wayne, and I must not let you linger too long in the fresh morning +air. We had best go in under shelter of the veranda." + +She arose, and would have led the way, but he detained her gently with a +light touch upon her sleeve. + +"Stay one moment, I pray you. I seem to breathe new life with this pure +air, and the perfume of these bowers awakens within me an inexpressible +and calm delight. I shall be all the better for one tranquil hour with +nature in bloom, if you, like the guardian nymph of these floral +treasures, will sit beside me." + +He drew her gently back into the seat, and looked long and earnestly +upon her face. She felt his gaze, but dared not return it, and her fair +head drooped like a flower that bends beneath the glance of a scorching +sun. + +"Miss Weems," he said at last, but his voice was so low and tremulous +that it scarce rose above the rustle of the swinging willow boughs, "you +are soon to be a bride, and in your path the kind Destinies will shower +blessings. When they wreathe the orange blossoms in your hair, and you +are led to the altar by the hand to which you must cling for life, if I +should not be there to wish you joy, you will not deem, will you, that I +am less your friend?" + +The fair head drooping yet lower was her only answer. + +"And when you shall be the mistress of a home where Content will be +shrined, the companion of your virtues, and over your threshold many +friends shall be welcomed, if I should never sit beside your +hearthstone, you will not, will you, believe that I have forgotten, or +that I could forget?" + +Still lower the fair head drooped, but she answered only with a falling +tear. + +"I told you the other day that we should be strangers through life, and +why, I must not tell, although perhaps your woman's heart may whisper, +and yet not condemn me for that which, Heaven knows, I have struggled +against--alas, in vain! Do not turn from me. I would not breathe a word +to you that in all honor you should not hear, although my heart seems +bursting with its longing, and I would yield my soul with rapture from +its frail casket, for but one moment's right to give its secret wings. I +will bid you farewell to-morrow"-- + +"To-morrow!" + +"Yes, the doctor says that the sea air will do me good, and an occasion +offers to-morrow which I shall embrace. It will be like setting forth +upon a journey through endless solitudes, where my only companions will +be a memory and a sorrow." + +He paused a while, but continued with an effort at composure. + +"Our hearts are tyrants to us, Miss Weems, and will not, sometimes, be +tutored into silence. I see that I have moved, but I trust not offended +you." + +"You have not offended," she murmured, but in so low a tone that perhaps +the words were lost in the faint moan of the swaying foliage. + +"What I have said," he continued earnestly, and taking her hand with a +gentle but respectful pressure, "has been spoken as one who is dying +speaks with his fleeting breath; for evermore my lips shall be shackled +against my heart, and the past shall be sealed and avoided as a +forbidden theme. We are, then, good friends at parting, are we not?" + +"Yes." + +"And, believe me, I shall be happiest when I think that you are +happy--for you will be happy." + +She sighed so deeply that the words were checked upon his lips, as if +some new emotion had turned the current of his thought. + +"Are you _not_ happy?" + +The tears that, in spite of her endeavor, burst from beneath the +downcast lids, answered him as words could not have done. He was +agitated and unnerved, and, leaning his brow against his hand, remained +silent while she wept. + +"Harold is a noble fellow," he said at last, after a long silence, and +when she had grown calmer, "and deserves to be loved as I am sure you +love him." + +"Oh, he has a noble heart, and I would die rather than cause him pain." + +"And you love him?" + +"I thought I loved him." + +The words were faint--hardly more than a breath upon her lips; but he +heard them, and his heart grew big with an undefined awe, as if some +vague danger were looming among the shadows of his destiny. Oriana +turned to him suddenly, and clasped his hand within her trembling +fingers. + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne! you must go, and never see me more. I am standing on the +brink of an abyss, and my heart bids me leap. I see the danger, and, oh +God! I have prayed for power to shun it. But Arthur, Arthur, if you do +not help me, I am lost. You are a man, an honest man, an honorable man, +who will not wrong your friend, or tempt the woman that cannot love you +without sin. Oh, save me from myself--from you--from the cruel wrong +that I could even dream of against him to whom I have sworn my woman's +faith. I am a child in your hands, Arthur, and in the face of the +reproaching Providence above me, I feel--I feel that I am at your mercy. +I feel that what you speak I must listen to; that should you bid me +stand beside you at the altar, I should not have courage to refuse. I +feel, oh God! Arthur, that I love you, and am betrothed to Harold. But +you are strong--you have courage, will, the power to defy such weakness +of the heart--and you will save me, for I know you are a good and honest +man." + +As she spoke, with her face upturned to him, and the hot tears rolling +down her cheeks, her fingers convulsively clasped about his hand, and +her form bending closer and closer toward him, till her cheek was +resting on his bosom, Arthur shuddered with intensity of feeling, and +from his averted eyes the scalding drops, that had never once before +moistened their surface, betrayed how terribly he was shaken with +emotion. + +But while she spoke, rapt as they were within themselves, they saw not +one who stood with folded arms beside the rustic bench, and gazed upon +them. + +"As God is my hope," said Arthur, "I will disarm temptation. Fear not. +From this hour we part. Henceforth the living and the dead shall not be +more estranged than we." + +He arose, but started as if an apparition met his gaze. Oriana knelt +beside him, and touched her lips to his hand in gratitude. An arm raised +her tenderly, and a gentle voice murmured her name. + +It was not Arthur's. + +Oriana raised her head, with a faint cry of terror. She gasped and +swooned upon the intruder's breast. + +It was Harold Hare who held her in his arms. + +Arthur, with folded arms, stood erect, but pale, in the presence of his +friend. His eye, sorrowful, yet calm, was fixed upon Harold, as if +awaiting his angry glance. But Harold looked only on the lifeless form +he held, and parting the tresses from her cold brow, his lips rested +there a moment with such a fond caress as sometimes a father gives his +child. + +"Poor girl!" he murmured, "would that my sorrow could avail for both. +Arthur, I have heard enough to know you would not do me wrong. Grief is +in store for us, but let us not be enemies." + +Mournfully, he gave his hand to Arthur, and Oriana, as she wakened from +her trance, beheld them locked in that sad grasp, like two twin statues +of despair. + +They led her to the house, and then the two young men walked out alone, +and talked frankly and tranquilly upon the subject. It was determined +that both should leave Riverside manor on the morrow, and that Oriana +should be left to commune with her own heart, and take counsel of time +and meditation. They would not grieve Beverly with their secret, at +least not for the present, when his sister was so ill prepared to bear +remonstrance or reproof. Harold wrote a kind letter for Oriana, in which +he released her from her pledged faith, asking only that she should take +time to study her heart, but in no wise let a sense of duty stand in the +way of her happiness. He took pains to conceal the depth of his own +affliction, and to avoid whatever she might construe as reproach. + +They would have gone without an interview with Oriana, but that would +have seemed strange to Beverly. However, Oriana, although pale and +nervous, met them in the morning with more composure than they had +anticipated. Harold, just before starting, drew her aside, and placed +the letter in her hand. + +"That will tell you all I would say, and you must read it when your +heart is strong and firm. Do not look so wretched. All may yet be well. +I would fain see you smile before I go." + +But though she had evidently nerved herself to be composed, the tears +would come, and her heart seemed rising to her throat and about to burst +in sobs. + +"I will be your true wife, Harold, and I will love you. Do not desert +me, do not cast me from you. I cannot bear to be so guilty. Indeed, +Harold, I will be true and faithful to you." + +"There is no guilt in that young heart," he answered, as he kissed her +forehead. "But now, we must not talk of love; hereafter, perhaps, when +time and absence shall teach us where to choose for happiness. Part from +me now as if I were your brother, and give me a sister's kiss. Would you +see Arthur?" + +She trembled and whispered painfully: + +"No, Harold, no--I dare not. Oh, Harold, bid him forget me." + +"It is better that you should not see him. Farewell! be brave. We are +good friends, remember. Farewell, dear girl." + +Beverly had been waiting with the carriage, and as the time was short, +he called to Harold. Arthur, who stood at the carriage wheel, simply +raised his hat to Oriana, as if in a parting salute. He would have given +his right hand to have pressed hers for a moment; but his will was iron, +and he did not once look back as the carriage whirled away. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +In the drawing-room of an elegant mansion in a fashionable quarter of +the city of New York, toward the close of April, a social party were +assembled, distributed mostly in small conversational groups. The head +of the establishment, a pompous, well-to-do merchant, stout, short, and +baldheaded, and evidently well satisfied with himself and his position +in society, was vehemently expressing his opinions upon the affairs of +the nation to an attentive audience of two or three elderly business +men, with a ponderous earnestness that proved him, in his own +estimation, as much _au fait_ in political affairs as in the routine of +his counting-room. An individual of middle age, a man of the world, +apparently, who was seated at a side-table, carelessly glancing over a +book of engravings, was the only one who occasionally exasperated the +pompous gentleman with contradictions or ill-timed interruptions. + +"The government must be sustained," said the stout gentleman, "and we, +the merchants of the North, will do it. It is money, sir, money," he +continued, unconsciously rattling the coin in his breeches pocket, "that +settles every question at the present day, and our money will bring +these beggarly rebels to their senses. They can't do without us, sir. +They would be ruined in six months, if shut out from commercial +intercourse with the North." + +"How long before you would be ruined by the operations of the same +cause?" inquired the individual at the side-table. + +"Sir, we of the North hold the wealth of the country in our pockets. +They can't fight against our money--they can't do it, sir." + +"Your ancestors fought against money, and fought passably well." + +"Yes, sir, for the great principles of human liberty." + +"Which these rebels believe they are fighting for. You have need of all +your money to keep a respectable army in the field. These Southerners +may have to fight in rags, as insurgents generally do: witness the +struggle of your Revolution; but until you lay waste their corn-fields +and drive off their cattle, they will have full stomachs, and that, +after all, is the first consideration." + +"You are an alien, sir, a foreigner; you know nothing of our great +institutions; you know nothing of the wealth of the North, and the +spirit of the people." + +"I see a great deal of bunting in the streets, and hear any quantity of +declamation at your popular gatherings. But as I journeyed northward +from New Orleans, I saw the same in the South--perhaps more of it." + +"And could not distinguish between the frenzy of treason and the +enthusiasm of patriotism?" + +"Not at all; except that treason seemed more earnest and unanimous." + +"You have seen with the eyes of an Englishman--of one hostile to our +institutions." + +"Oh, no; as a man of the world, a traveller, without prejudice or +passion, receiving impressions and noting them. I like your country; I +like your people. I have observed foibles in the North and in the South, +but there is an under-current of strong feeling and good sense which I +have noted and admired. I think your quarrel is one of foibles--one +conceived in the spirit of petulance, and about to be prosecuted in the +spirit of exaltation. I believe the professed mutual hatred of the +sections to be superficial, and that it could be cancelled. It is +fostered by the bitterness of fanatics, assisted by a very natural +disinclination on the part of the masses to yield a disputed point. If +hostilities should cease to-morrow, you would be better friends than +ever." + +"But the principle, sir! The right of the thing, and the wrong of the +thing! Can we parley with traitors? Can we negotiate with armed +rebellion? Is it not our paramount duty to set at rest forever the +doctrine of secession?" + +"As a matter of policy, perhaps. But as a right, I doubt it. Your +government I look upon as a mere agency appointed by contracting parties +to transact certain affairs for their convenience. Should one or more of +those contracting parties, sovereignties in themselves, hold it to their +interest to transact their business without the assistance of an agent, +I cannot perceive that the right can be denied by any provision of the +contract. In your case, the employers have dismissed their agent, who +seeks to reinstate the office by force of arms. As justly might my +lawyer, when I no longer need his services, attempt to coerce me into a +continuance of business relations, by invading my residence with a +loaded pistol. The States, without extinguishing their sovereignty, +created the Federal Government; it is the child of State legislation, +and now the child seeks to chastise and control the parent. The General +Government can possess no inherent or self-created function; its power, +its very existence, were granted for certain uses. As regards your +State's connection with that Government, no other State has the right to +interfere; but as for another State's connection with it, the power that +made it can unmake." + +"So you would have the government quietly acquiesce in the robbery of +public property, the occupation of Federal strongholds and the seizure +of ships and revenues in which they have but a share?" + +"If, by the necessity of the case, the seceded States hold in their +possession more than their share of public property, a division should +be made by arbitration, as in other cases where a distribution of common +property is required. It may have been a wrong and an insult to bombard +Fort Sumter and haul down the Federal flag, but that does not establish +a right on the part of the Federal Government to coerce the wrong-doing +States into a union with the others. And that, I take it, is the avowed +purpose of your administration." + +"Yes, and that purpose will be fulfilled. We have the money to do it, +and we will do it, sir." + +A tall, thin gentleman, with a white cravat and a bilious complexion, +approached the party from a different part of the room. + +"It can't be done with money, Mr. Pursely," said the new comer, "Unless +the great, the divine principle of universal human liberty is invoked. +An offended but merciful Providence has given the people this chance for +redemption, in the opportunity to strike the shackle from the slave. I +hold the war a blessing to the nation and to humanity, in that it will +cleanse the land from its curse of slavery. It is an invitation from God +to wipe away the record of our past tardiness and tolerance, by striking +at the great sin with fire and sword. The blood of millions is +nothing--the woe, the lamentation, the ruin of the land is nothing--the +overthrow of the Union itself is nothing, if we can but win God's smile +by setting a brand in the hand of the bondman to scourge his master. But +assuredly unless we arouse the slave to seize the torch and the dagger, +and avenge the wrongs of his race, Providence will frown upon our +efforts, and our arms will not prevail." + +A tall man in military undress replied with considerable emphasis: + +"Then your black-coated gentry must fight their own battle. The people +will not arm if abolition is to be the watchword. I for one will not +strike a blow if it be not understood that the institutions of the South +shall be respected." + +"The government must be sustained, that is the point," cried Mr. +Pursely. "It matters little what becomes of the negro, but the +government must be sustained. Otherwise, what security will there be +for property, and what will become of trade?" + +"Who thinks of trade or property at such a crisis?" interrupted an +enthusiast, in figured trowsers and a gay cravat. "Our beloved Union +must and shall be preserved. The fabric that our fathers reared for us +must not be allowed to crumble. We will prop it with our mangled +bodies," and he brushed a speck of dust from the fine broadcloth of his +sleeve. + +"The insult to our flag must be wiped out," said the military gentleman. +"The honor of the glorious stripes and stars must be vindicated to the +world." + +"Let us chastise these boasting Southrons," said another, "and prove our +supremacy in arms, and I shall be satisfied." + +"But above all," insisted a third, "we must check the sneers and +exultation of European powers, and show them that we have not forgotten +the art of war since the days of 1776 and 1812." + +"I should like to know what you are going to fight about," said the +Englishman, quietly; "for there appears to be much diversity of +opinion. However, if you are determined to cut each others' throats, +perhaps one pretext is as good as another, and a dozen better than only +one." + +In the quiet recess of a window, shadowed by the crimson curtains, sat a +fair young girl, and a man, young and handsome, but upon whose +countenance the traces of dissipation and of passion were deeply marked. +Miranda Ayleff was a Virginian, the cousin and quondam playmate of +Oriana Weems, like her an orphan, and a ward of Beverly. Her companion +was Philip Searle. She had known him in Richmond, and had become much +attached to him, but his habits and character were such, that her +friends, and Beverly chiefly, had earnestly discouraged their intimacy. +Philip left for the North, and Miranda, who at the date of our story was +the guest of Mrs. Pursely, her relative, met him in New York, after a +separation of two years. Philip, who, in spite of his evil ways, was +singularly handsome and agreeable in manners, found little difficulty in +fanning the old flame, and, upon the plea of old acquaintance, became a +frequent visitor upon Miranda at Mr. Pursely's mansion, where we now +find them, earnestly conversing, but in low tones, in the little +solitude of the great bay window. + +"You reproach me with vices which your unkindness has helped to stain me +with. Driven from your presence, whom alone I cared to live for, what +marvel if I sought oblivion in the wine-cup and the dice-box? Give me +one chance, Miranda, to redeem myself. Let me call you wife, and you +will become my guardian angel, and save me from myself." + +"You know that I love you, Philip," she replied, "and willingly would I +share your destiny, hoping to win you from evil. Go with me to Richmond. +We will speak with Beverly, who is kind and truly loves me. We will +convince him of your good purposes, and will win his consent to our +union." + +"No, Miranda; Beverly and your friends in Richmond will never believe me +worthy of you. Besides, it would be dangerous for me to visit Richmond. +I have identified myself with the Northern cause, and although, for your +sake, I might refrain from bearing arms against Virginia, yet I have +little sympathy with any there, where I have been branded as a drunkard +and a gambler." + +"Yet, Philip, is it not the land of your birth--the home of your +boyhood?" + +"The land of my shame and humiliation. No Miranda, I will not return to +Virginia. And if you love me, you will not return. What are these +senseless quarrels to us? We can be happy in each other's love, and +forget that madmen are at war around us. Why will you not trust me, +Miranda--why do you thus withhold from me my only hope of redemption +from the terrible vice that is killing me? I put my destiny, my very +life in your keeping, and you hesitate to accept the trust that alone +can save me. Oh, Miranda! you do not love me." + +"Philip, I cannot renounce my friends, my dear country, the home of my +childhood." + +"Then look you what will be my fate: I will join the armies of the +North, and fling away my life in battle against my native soil. Ruin and +death cannot come too soon when you forsake me." + +Miranda remained silent, but, through the gloom of the recess, he could +see the glistening of a tear upon her cheek. + +The hall-bell rang, and the servant brought in a card for Miss Ayleff. +Following it, Arthur Wayne was ushered into the room. + +She rose to receive him, somewhat surprised at a visit from a stranger. + +"I have brought these letters for you from my good friend Beverly +Weems," said Arthur. "At his request, I have ventured to call in person, +most happy, if you will forgive the presumption, in the opportunity." + +She gave her hand, and welcomed him gracefully and warmly, and, having +introduced Mr. Searle, excused herself while she glanced at the contents +of Beverly's letter. While thus employed, Arthur marked her changing +color; and then, lifting his eyes lest his scrutiny might be rude, +observed Philip's dark eye fixed upon her with a suspicious and +searching expression. Then Philip looked up, and their glances met--the +calm blue eye and the flashing black--but for an instant, but long +enough to confirm the instinctive feeling that there was no sympathy +between their hearts. + +A half-hour's general conversation ensued, but Philip appeared restless +and uneasy, and rose to take his leave. She followed him to the parlor +door. + +"Come to me to-morrow," she said, as she gave her hand, "and we will +talk again." + +A smile of triumph rested upon his pale lips for a second; but he +pressed her hand, and, murmuring an affectionate farewell, withdrew. + +Arthur remained a few moments, but observing that Miranda was pensive +and absent, he bade her good evening, accepting her urgent invitation to +call at an early period. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +"Well, Arthur," said Harold Hare, entering the room of the former at his +hotel, on the following evening, "I have come to bid you good bye. I +start for home to-morrow morning," he added, in reply to Arthur's +questioning glance. "I am to have a company of Providence boys in my old +friend Colonel R----'s regiment. And after a little brisk recruiting, +ho! for Washington and the wars!" + +"You have determined for the war, then?" + +"Of course. And you?" + +"I shall go to my Vermont farm, and live quietly among my books and +pastures." + +"A dull life, Arthur, when every wind that blows will bring to your ears +the swell of martial music and the din of arms." + +"If I were in love with the pomp of war, which, thank heaven, I am not, +Harold, I would rather dwell in a hermit's cave, than follow the fife +and drum over the bodies of my Southern countrymen." + +"Those Southern countrymen, that you seem to love better than the +country they would ruin, would have little remorse in marching over your +body, even among the ashes of your farm-house. Doubtless you would stand +at your threshold, and welcome their butchery, should their ruffian +legions ravage our land as far as your Green Mountains." + +"I do not think they will invade one foot of Northern soil, unless +compelled by strict military necessity. However, should the State to +which I owe allegiance be attacked by foreign or domestic foe, I will +stand among its defenders. But, dear Harold, let us not argue this sad +subject, which it is grief enough but to contemplate. Tell me of your +plans, and how I shall communicate with you, while you are absent. My +distress about this unhappy war will be keener, when I feel that my dear +friend may be its victim." + +Harold pressed his hand affectionately, and the two friends spoke of the +misty future, till Harold arose to depart. They had not mentioned +Oriana's name, though she was in their thoughts, and each, as he bade +farewell, knew that some part of the other's sadness was for her sake. + +Arthur accompanied Harold a short distance up Broadway, and returning, +found at the office of the hotel, a letter, without post-mark, to his +address. He stepped into the reading-room to peruse it. It was from +Beverly, and ran thus: + + "RICHMOND, _May_ --, 1861. + + "DEAR ARTHUR: The departure of a friend gives me an opportunity to + write you about a matter that I beg you will attend to, for my sake, + thoroughly. I learned this morning, upon receipt of a letter from + Mr. Pursely, that Miranda Ayleff, of whom we spoke together, and to + whom I presume you have already delivered my communication, is + receiving the visits of one Philip Searle, to whom, some two years + since, she was much attached. _Entre nous_, Arthur, I can tell you, + the man is a scoundrel of the deepest dye. Not only a drunkard and a + gambler, but dishonest, and unfit for any decent girl's society. He + is guilty of forgery against me, and, against my conscience, I + hushed the matter only out of consideration for her feelings. I + would still have concealed the matter from her, had this resumption + of their intimacy not occurred. But her welfare must cancel all + scruples of that character; and I therefore entreat you to see her + at once, and unmask the man fully and unequivocally. If necessary + you may show my letter for that purpose. I would go on to New York + myself immediately, were I not employed upon a State mission of + exceeding delicacy and importance; but I have full confidence in + your good judgment. Spare no arguments to induce her to return + immediately to Richmond. + + "Oriana has not been well; I know not what ails her, but, though she + makes no complaint, the girl seems really ill. She knows not of my + writing, for I would not pain her about Miranda, of whom she is very + fond. But I can venture, without consulting her, to send you her + good wishes. Let me hear from you in full about what I have written. + Your friend. + + "BEVERLY WEEMS." + + "P.S.--Knowing that you must yet be weak with your late illness, I + would have troubled Harold, rather than you, about this matter, but + I am ignorant of his present whereabouts, while I know that you + contemplated remaining a week or so in New York. Write me about the + ugly bite in the shoulder, from which I trust you are well + recovered. B.W." + +Arthur looked up from the letter, and beheld Philip Searle seated at the +opposite side of the table. He had entered while Arthur's attention was +absorbed in reading, and having glanced at the address of the envelope +which lay upon the table, he recognized the hand of Beverly. This +prompted him to pause, and taking up one of the newspapers which were +strewn about the table, he sat down, and while he appeared to read, +glanced furtively at his _vis-a-vis_ over the paper's edge. When his +presence was noticed, he bowed, and Arthur, with a slight and stern +inclination of the head, fixed his calm eye upon him with a searching +severity that brought a flush of anger to Philip's brow. + +"That is Weems' hand," he muttered, inwardly, "and by that fellow's +look, I fancy that no less a person than myself is the subject of his +epistle." + +Arthur had walked away, but, in his surprise at the unexpected presence +of Searle, he had allowed the letter to remain upon the table. No sooner +had he passed out of the room, than Philip quietly but rapidly stretched +his hand beneath the pile of scattered journals, and drew it toward him. +It required but an instant for his quick eye to catch the substance. His +face grew livid, and his teeth grated harshly with suppressed rage. + +"We shall have a game of plot and counterplot before this ends, my +man," he muttered. + +There were pen and paper on the table, and he wrote a few lines hastily, +placed them in the envelope, and put Beverly's letter in his pocket. He +had hardly finished when Arthur reentered the room, advanced rapidly to +the table, and, with a look of relief, took up the envelope and its +contents, and again left the room. Philip's lip curled beneath the black +moustache with a smile of triumphant malice. + +"Keep it safe in your pocket for a few hours, my gamecock, and my +heiress to a beggar-girl, I'll have stone walls between you and me." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +The evening was somewhat advanced, but Arthur determined at once to seek +an interview with Miss Ayleff. Hastily arranging his toilet, he walked +briskly up Broadway, revolving in his mind a fit course for fulfilling +his delicate errand. + +To shorten his way, he turned into a cross street in the upper part of +the city. As he approached the hall door of a large brick house, his eye +chanced to fall upon a man who was ringing for admittance. The light +from the street lamp fell full upon his face, and he recognized the +features of Philip Searle. At that moment the door was opened, and +Philip entered. Arthur would have passed on, but something in the +appearance of the house arrested his attention, and, on closer scrutiny, +revealed to him its character. One of those impulses which sometimes +sway our actions, tempted him to enter, and learn, if possible, +something further respecting the habits of the man whose scheme he had +been commissioned to thwart. A moment's reflection might have changed +his purpose, but his hand was already upon the bell, and the summons was +quickly answered by a good-looking but faded young woman, with painted +cheeks and gay attire. She fixed her keen, bold eyes upon him for a few +seconds, and then, tossing her ringlets, pertly invited him to enter. + +"Who is within?" asked Arthur, standing in the hall. + +"Only the girls. Walk in." + +"The gentleman who came in before me, is he there?" + +"Do you want to see him?" she asked, suspiciously. + +"Oh, no. Only I would avoid being seen by any one." + +"He will not see you. Come right in." And she threw open the door, and +flaunted in. + +Arthur followed her without hesitation. + +Bursts of forced and cheerless laughter, and the shrill sound of rude +and flippant talk, smote unpleasantly upon his ear. The room was richly +furnished, but without taste or modesty. The tall mirrors were displayed +with ostentation, and the paintings, offensive in design, hung +conspicuous in showy frames. The numerous gas jets, flashing among +glittering crystal pendants, made vice more glaring and heartlessness +more terribly apparent. Women, with bold and haggard eyes, with brazen +brows, and cheeks from which the roses of virgin shame had been plucked +to bloom no more forever--mostly young girls, scourging their youth into +old age, and gathering poison at once for soul and body--with sensual +indolence reclined upon the rich ottomans, or with fantastic grace +whirled through lewd waltzes over the velvet carpets. There was laughter +without joy--there was frivolity without merriment--there was the +surface of enjoyment and the substance of woe, for beneath those painted +cheeks was the pallor of despair and broken health, and beneath those +whitened bosoms, half veiled with gaudy silks, were hearts that were +aching with remorse, or, yet more unhappy, benumbed and callous with +habitual sin. + +Yet there, like a crushed pearl upon a heap of garbage, lingers the +trace of beauty; and there, surely, though sepulchred in the caverns of +vice, dwells something that was once innocence, and not unredeemable. +But whence is the friendly word to come, whence the guardian hand that +might lift them from the slough. They live accursed by even charity, +shunned by philanthropy, and shut from the Christian world like a tribe +of lepers whose touch is contagion and whose breath is pestilence. In +the glittering halls of fashion, the high-born beauty, with wreaths +about her white temples and diamonds upon her chaste bosom, gives her +gloved hand for the dance, and forgets that an erring sister, by the +touch of those white fingers, might be raised from the grave of her +chastity, and clothed anew with the white garments of repentance. But +no; the cold world of fashion, that from its cushioned pew has listened +with stately devotion to the words of the Redeemer, has taught her that +to redeem the fallen is beneath her caste. The bond of sisterhood is +broken. The lost one must pursue her hideous destiny, each avenue of +escape blocked by the scorn and loathing which denies her the contact of +virtue and the counsel of purity. In the broad fields of charity, +invaded by cold philosophers, losing themselves in searching unreal and +vague philanthropies, none so practical in beneficence as to take her by +the hand, saying, "Go, and sin no more." + +But whenever the path of benevolence is intricate and doubtful, whenever +the work is linked with a riddle whose solving will breed discord and +trouble among men, whenever there is a chance to make philanthropy a +plea for hate, and bitterness and charity can be made a battle-cry to +arouse the spirit of destruction, and spread ruin and desolation over +the fair face of the earth, then will the domes of our churches resound +with eloquence, then will the journals of the land teem with their +mystic theories, then will the mourners of human woe be loud in +lamentation, and lift up their mighty voices to cry down an abstract +evil. When actual misery appeals to them, they are deaf; when the plain +and palpable error stalks before them, they turn aside. They are too +busy with the tangles of some philanthropic Gordian knot, to stretch out +a helping hand to the sufferer at their sides. They are frenzied with +their zeal to build a bridge over a spanless ocean, while the drowning +wretch is sinking within their grasp. They scorn the simple charity of +the good Samaritan; theirs must be a gigantic and splendid achievement +in experimental beneficence, worthy of their philosophic brains. The +wrong they would redress must be one that half the world esteems a +right; else there would be no room for their arguments, no occasion for +their invective, no excuse for their passion. To do good is too simple +for their transcendentalism; they must first make evil out of their +logic, and then, through blood and wasting flames, drive on the people +to destruction, that the imaginary evil may be destroyed. While Charity +soars so high among the clouds, she will never stoop to lift the +Magdalen from sin. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Arthur heaved an involuntary sigh, as he gazed upon those sad wrecks of +womanhood, striving to harden their sense of degradation by its impudent +display. But an expression of bewildered and sorrowful surprise suddenly +overspread his countenance. Seated alone upon a cushioned stool, at the +chimney-corner, was a young woman, her elbows resting upon her knees, +and her face bent thoughtfully upon her palms. She was apparently lost +in thought to all around her. She was thinking--of what? Perhaps of the +green fields where she played in childhood; perhaps of her days of +innocence; perhaps of the mother at whose feet she had once knelt in +prayer. But she was far away, in thought, from that scene of infamy of +which she was a part; for, in the glare of the gaslight, a tear +struggled through her eyelashes, and glittered like a ray from heaven +piercing the glooms of hell. + +Arthur walked to her, and placed his hand softly upon her yellow hair. + +"Oh, Mary!" he murmured, in a tone of gentle sorrow, that sounded +strangely amid the discordant merriment that filled the room. + +She looked up, at his touch, but when his voice fell upon her ear, she +arose suddenly and stood before him like one struck dumb betwixt +humiliation and wonder. The angel had not yet fled that bosom, for the +blush of shame glowed through the chalk upon her brow and outcrimsoned +the paint upon her cheek. As it passed away, she would have wreathed her +lip mechanically with the pert smile of her vocation, but the smile was +frozen ere it reached her lips, and the coarse words she would have +spoken died into a murmur and a sob. She sank down again upon the +cushion, and bent her face low down upon her hands. + +"Oh, Mary! is it you! is it you! I pray heaven your mother be in her +grave!" + +She rose and escaped quickly from the room; but he followed her and +checked her at the stairway. + +"Let me speak with you, Mary. No, not here; lead me to your room." + +He followed her up-stairs, and closing the door, sat beside her as she +leaned upon the bed and buried her face in the pillow. + +It was the child of his old nurse. Upon the hill-sides of his native +State they had played together when children, and now she lay there +before him, with scarce enough of woman's nature left to weep for her +own misery. + +"Mary, how is this? Look up, child," he said, taking her hand kindly. "I +had rather see you thus, bent low with sorrow, than bold and hard in +guilt. But yet look up and speak to me. I will be your friend, you know. +Tell me, why are you thus?" + +"Oh, Mr. Wayne, do not scold me, please don't. I was thinking of home +and mother when you came and put your hand on my head. Mother's dead." + +"Well for her, poor woman. But how came you thus?" + +"I scarcely seem to know. It seems to me a dream. I married John, and he +brought me to New York. Then the war came, and he went and was killed. +And mother was dead, and I had no friends in the great city. I could get +no work, and I was starving, indeed I was, Mr. Wayne. So a young man, +who was very handsome, and rich, I think, for he gave me money and fine +dresses, he promised me--Oh, Mr. Wayne, I was very wrong and foolish, +and I wish I could die, and be buried by my poor mother." + +"And did he bring you here?" + +"Oh no, sir. I came here two weeks ago, after he had left me. And when +he came in one night and found me here, he was very angry, and said he +would kill me if I told any one that I knew him. And I know why; but you +won't tell, Mr. Wayne, for it would make him angry. I have found out +that he is married to the mistress of this house. He's a bad man, I know +now, and often comes here drunk, and swears at the woman and the girls. +Hark! that's her room, next to mine, and I think he's in there now." + +The faint sound of voices, smothered by the walls, reached them from the +adjoining chamber; but as they listened, the door of that room opened, +and the loud and angry tones of a man, speaking at the threshold, could +be distinctly heard. Arthur quietly and carefully opened the door of +Mary's room, an inch or less, and listened at the aperture. He was not +mistaken; he recognized the voice of Philip Searle. + +"I'll do it, anyhow," said Philip, angrily, and with the thick utterance +of one who had been drinking. "I'll do it; and if you trouble me, I'll +fix you." + +"Philip, if you marry that girl I'll peach; I will, so help me G--d," +replied a woman's voice. "I've given you the money, and I've given you +plenty before, as much as I had to give you, Philip, and you know it. I +don't mind that, but you shan't marry till I'm dead. I'm your lawful +wife, and if I'm low now, it's your fault, for you drove me to it." + +"I'll drive you to hell if you worry me. I tell you she's got lots of +money, and a farm, and niggers, and you shall have half if you only keep +your mouth shut. Come, now, Molly, don't be a fool; what's the use, +now?" + +They went down the stairway together, and their voices were lost as they +descended. Arthur determined to follow and get some clue, if possible, +as to the man's, intentions. He therefore gave his address to Mary, and +made her promise faithfully to meet him on the following morning, +promising to befriend her and send her to his mother in Vermont. Hearing +the front door close, and surmising that Philip had departed, he bade +her good night, and descending hastily, was upon the sidewalk in time to +observe Philip's form in the starlight as he turned the corner. + +It was now ten o'clock; too late to call upon Miranda without disturbing +the household, which he desired to avoid. Arthur's present fear was that +possibly an elopement had been planned for that night, and he therefore +determined, if practicable, to keep Searle in view till he had traced +him home. The latter entered a refreshment saloon upon Broadway; Arthur +followed, and ordering, in a low tone, some dish that would require time +in the preparation, he stepped, without noise, into an alcove adjoining +one whence came the sound of conversation. + +"Well, what's up?" inquired a gruff, coarse voice. + +"Fill me some brandy," replied Philip. "I tell you, Bradshaw, it's +risky, but I'll do it. The old woman's rock. She'll blow upon me if she +gets the chance; but I'm in for it, and I'll put it through. We must +manage to keep it mum from her, and as soon as I get the girl I'll +accept the lieutenancy, and be off to the wars till all blows over. If +Moll should smoke me out there, I'll cross the line and take sanctuary +with Jeff. Davis." + +"What about the girl?" + +"Oh; she's all right," replied Philip, with a drunken chuckle. "I had an +interview with the dear creature this morning, and she's like wax in my +hands. It's all arranged for to-morrow morning. You be sure to have the +carriage ready at the Park--the same spot, you know--by ten o'clock. +She can't well get away before, but that will be time enough for the +train." + +"I want that money now." + +"Moll's hard up, but I got a couple of hundred from her. Here's fifty +for you; now don't grumble, I'm doing the best I can, d--n you, and you +know it. Now listen--I want to fix things with you about that blue-eyed +chap." + +The waiter here brought in Arthur's order, and a sudden silence ensued +in the alcove. The two men had evidently been unaware of the proximity +of a third party, and their tone, though low, had not been sufficiently +guarded to escape Arthur hearing, whose ear, leaning against the thin +partition, was within a few inches of Philip's head. A muttered curse +and the gurgling of liquor from a decanter was all that could be heard +for the space of a few-moments, when the two, after a brief whisper, +arose and left the place, not, however, without making ineffectual +efforts to catch a glimpse of the occupant of the tenanted alcove. +Arthur soon after followed them into the street. He was aware that he +was watched from the opposite corner, and that his steps were dogged in +the darkness. But he drew his felt hat well over his face, and by +mingling with the crowd that chanced to be pouring from one of the +theatres, he avoided recognition and passed unnoticed into his hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Arthur felt ill and much fatigued when he retired to rest, and was +restless and disturbed with fever throughout the night. He had +overtasked his delicate frame, yet scarce recovered from the effects of +recent suffering, and he arose in the morning with a feeling of +prostration that he could with difficulty overcome. However, he +refreshed himself with a cup of tea, and prepared to call upon Miss +Ayleff. It was but seven o'clock, a somewhat early hour for a morning +visit, but the occasion was one for little ceremony. As he was on the +point of leaving his room, there was a peremptory knock at the door, +and, upon his invitation to walk in, a stranger entered. It was a +gentlemanly personage, with a searching eye and a calm and quiet manner. +Arthur was vexed to be delayed, but received the intruder with a civil +inclination of the head, somewhat surprised, however, that no card had +been sent to give him intimation of the visit. + +"Are you Mr. Arthur Wayne?" inquired the stranger. + +"I am he," replied Arthur. "Be seated, sir." + +"I thank you. My name is ----. I am a deputy United States marshal of +this district." + +Arthur bowed, and awaited a further statement of the purpose of his +visit. + +"You have lately arrived from Virginia, I understand?" + +"A few days since, sir--from a brief sojourn in the vicinity of +Richmond." + +"And yesterday received a communication from that quarter?" + +"I did. A letter from an intimate acquaintance." + +"My office will excuse me from an imputation of inquisitiveness. May I +see that letter?" + +"Excuse me, sir. Its contents are of a private and delicate nature, and +intended only for my own perusal." + +"It is because its contents are of that nature that I am constrained to +ask you for it. Pardon me, Mr. Wayne; but to be brief and frank you, I +must either receive that communication by your good will, or call in my +officers, and institute a search. I am sure you will not make my duty +more unpleasant than necessary." + +Arthur paused awhile. He was conscious that it would be impossible for +him to avoid complying with the marshal's request, and yet it was most +annoying to be obliged to make a third party cognizant of the facts +contained in Beverly's epistle. + +"I have no desire to oppose you in the performance of your functions," +he finally replied, "but really there are very particular reasons why +the contents of this letter should not be made public." + +A very faint indication of a smile passed over the marshal's serious +face; Arthur did not observe it, but continued: + +"I will hand you the letter, for I perceive there has been some mistake +and misapprehension which of course it is your duty to clear up. But you +must promise me that, when your perusal of it shall have satisfied you +that its nature is strictly private, and not offensive to the law, you +will return it me and preserve an inviolable secrecy as to its +contents." + +"When I shall be satisfied on that score, I will do as you desire." + +Arthur handed him the letter, somewhat to the other's surprise, for he +had certainly been watching for an attempt at its destruction, or at +least was prepared for prevarication and stratagem. He took the paper +from its envelope and read it carefully. It was in the following words: + + Richmond, _May_ --, 1861. + + Dear Arthur: This will be handed to you by a sure hand. Communicate + freely with the bearer--he can be trusted. The arms can be safely + shipped as he represents, and you will therefore send them on at + once. Your last communication was of great service to the cause, + and, although I would be glad to have you with us, the President + thinks you are too valuable, for the present, where you are. When + you come, the commission will be ready for you. Yours truly, + + Beverly Weems, Capt. C.S.A. + +"Are you satisfied?" inquired Arthur, after the marshal had silently +concluded his examination of the document. + +"Perfectly satisfied," replied the other, placing the letter in his +pocket. "Mr. Wayne, it is my duty to arrest you." + +"Arrest me!" + +"In the name of the United States." + +"For what offence?" + +"Treason." + +Arthur remained for a while silent with astonishment. At last, as the +marshal arose and took his hat, he said: + +"I cannot conceive what act or word of mine can be construed as +treasonable. There is some mistake, surely; I am a quiet man, a stranger +in the city, and have conversed with but one or two persons since my +arrival. Explain to me, if you please, the particular nature of the +charge against me." + +"It is not my province, at this moment, to do so, Mr. Wayne. It is +sufficient that, upon information lodged with me last evening, and +forwarded to Washington by telegraph, I received from the Secretary of +War orders for your immediate arrest, should I find the information +true. I have found it true, and I arrest you." + +"Surely, nothing in that letter can be so misconstrued as to implicate +me." + +"Mr. Wayne, this prevarication is as useless as it is unseemly. You +_know_ that the letter is sufficient warrant for my proceeding. My +carriage is at the door. I trust you will accompany me without further +delay." + +"Sir, I was about to proceed, when you entered, upon an errand that +involves the safety and happiness of the young lady mentioned in that +letter. The letter itself will inform you of the circumstance, and I +assure you, events are in progress that require my immediate action. You +will at least allow me to visit the party?" + +The marshal looked at him with surprise. + +"What party?" + +"The lady of whom my friend makes mention." + +"I do not understand you. I can only conceive that, for some purpose of +your own, you are anxious to gain time. I must request you to accompany +me at once to the carriage." + +"You will permit me at least to send a, letter--a word--a warning?" + +"That your accomplice may receive information? Assuredly not." + +"Be yourself the messenger--or send"---- + +"This subterfuge is idle." He opened the door and stood beside it. "I +must request your company to the carriage." + +Arthur's cheek flushed for a moment with anger. + +"This severity," he said, "is ridiculous and unjust. I tell you, you and +those for whom you act will be accountable for a great crime--for +innocence betrayed--for a young life made desolate--for perhaps a +dishonored grave. I plead not for myself, but for one helpless and pure, +who at this hour may be the victim of a villain's plot. In the name of +humanity, I entreat you give me but time to avert the calamity, and I +will follow you without remonstrance. Go with me yourself. Be present at +the interview. Of what consequence to you will be an hour's delay?" + +"It may be of much consequence to those who are in league with you. I +cannot grant your request. You must come with me, sir, or I shall be +obliged to call for assistance," and he drew a pair of handcuffs from +his pocket. + +Arthur perceived that further argument or entreaty would be of no avail. +He was much agitated and distressed beyond measure at the possible +misfortune to Miranda, which, by this untimely arrest, he was powerless +to avert. Knowing nothing of the true contents of the letter which +Philip had substituted for the one received from Beverly, he could not +imagine an excuse for the marshal's inflexibility. He was quite ill, +too, and what with fever and agitation, his brain was in a whirl. He +leaned against the chair, faint and dispirited. The painful cough, the +harbinger of that fatal malady which had already brought a sister to an +early grave, oppressed him, and the hectic glowed upon his pale cheeks. +The marshal approached him, and laid his hand gently on his shoulder. + +"You seem ill," he said; "I am sorry to be harsh with you, but I must do +my duty. They will make you as comfortable as possible at the fort. But +you must come." + +Arthur followed him mechanically, and like one in a dream. They stepped +into the carriage and were driven rapidly away; but Arthur, as he +leaned back exhausted in his seat, murmured sorrowfully: + +"And poor little Mary, too! Who will befriend her now?" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +In the upper apartment of a cottage standing alone by the roadside on +the outskirts of Boston, Miranda, pale and dejected, sat gazing vacantly +at the light of the solitary lamp that lit the room. The clock was +striking midnight, and the driving rain beat dismally against the +window-blinds. But one month had passed since her elopement with Philip +Searle, yet her wan cheeks and altered aspect revealed how much of +suffering can be crowded into that little space of time. She started +from her revery when the striking of the timepiece told the lateness of +the hour. Heavy footsteps sounded upon the stairway, and, while she +listened, Philip, followed by Bradshaw, entered the room abruptly. + +"How is this?" asked Philip, angrily. "Why are you not in bed?" + +"I did not know it was so late, Philip," she answered, in a deprecating +tone. "I was half asleep upon the rocking-chair, listening to the +storm. It's a bad night, Philip. How wet you are!" + +He brushed off the hand she had laid upon his shoulder, and muttered, +with bad humor: + +"I've told you a dozen times I don't want you to sit up for me. Fetch +the brandy and glasses, and go to bed." + +"Oh, Philip, it is so late! Don't drink: to-night, Philip. You are wet, +and you look tired. Come to bed." + +"Do as I tell you," he answered, roughly, flinging himself into a chair, +and beckoning Bradshaw to a seat. Miranda sighed, and brought the bottle +and glasses from the closet. + +"Now, you go to sleep, do you hear; and don't be whining and crying all +night, like a sick girl." + +The poor girl moved slowly to the door, and turned at the threshold. + +"Good night, Philip." + +"Oh, good night--there, get along," he cried, impatiently, without +looking at her, and gulping down a tumblerful of spirits. Miranda closed +the door and left the two men alone together. + +They remained silent for a while, Bradshaw quietly sipping his liquor, +and Philip evidently disturbed and angry. + +"You're sure 'twas she?" he asked at last. + +"Oh, bother!" replied Bradshaw. "I'm not a mole nor a blind man. Don't I +know Moll when I see her?" + +"Curse her! she'll stick to me like a leech. What could have brought her +here? Do you think she's tracked me?" + +"She'd track you through fire, if she once got on the scent. Moll ain't +the gal to be fooled, and you know it." + +"What's to be done?" + +"Move out of this. Take the girl to Virginia. You'll be safe enough +there." + +"You're right, Bradshaw. It's the best way. I ought to have done it at +first. But, hang the girl, she'll weary me to death with her sermons and +crying fits. Moll's worth two of her for that, matter--she scolds, but +at least she never would look like a stuck fawn when I came home a +little queer. For the matter of that, she don't mind a spree herself at +times." And, emptying his glass, the libertine laughed at the +remembrance of some past orgies. + +While he was thus, in his half-drunken mood, consoling himself for +present perplexities by dwelling upon the bacchanalian joys of other +days, a carriage drove up the street, and stopped before the door. Soon +afterward, the hall bell was rung, and Philip, alarmed and astonished, +started from his seat. + +"Who's that?" he asked, almost in a whisper. + +"Don't know," replied his companion. + +"She couldn't have traced me here already--unless you have betrayed me, +Bradshaw," he added suddenly, darting a suspicious glance upon his +comrade. + +"You're just drunk enough to be a fool," replied Bradshaw, rising from +his seat, as a second summons, more violent than the first, echoed +through the corridors. "I'll go down and see what's the matter. Some +one's mistaken the house, I suppose. That's all." + +"Let no one in, Bradshaw," cried Philip, as that worthy left the room. +He descended the stairs, opened the door, and presently afterward the +carriage drove rapidly away. Philip, who had been listening earnestly, +could hear the sound of the wheels as they whirled over the pavement. + +"All right," he said, as he applied himself once more to the bottle +before him. "Some fool has mistaken his whereabouts. Curse me, but I'm +getting as nervous as an old woman." + +He was in the act of lifting the glass to his lips, when the door was +flung wide open. The glass fell from his hands, and shivered upon the +floor. Moll stood before him. + +She stood at the threshold with a wicked gleam in her eye, and a smile +of triumph upon her lips; then advanced into the room, closed the door +quietly, locked it, seated herself composedly in the nearest chair, and +filled herself a glass of spirits. Philip glared upon her with an +expression of mingled anger, fear and wonderment. + +"Are you a devil? Where in thunder did you spring from?" he asked at +last. + +"You'll make me a devil, with your tricks, Philip Searle," she said, +sipping the liquor, and looking at him wickedly over the rim of the +tumbler. + +"Ha! ha! ha!" she laughed aloud, as he muttered a curse between his +clenched teeth, "I'm not the country girl, Philip dear, that I was when +you whispered your sweet nonsense in my ear. I know your game, my bully +boy, and I'll play you card for card." + +"Bradshaw" shouted Philip, going to the door and striving to open it. + +"It's no use," she said, "I've got the key in my pocket. Sit down. I +want to talk to you. Don't be a fool." + +"Where's Bradshaw, Moll?" + +"At the depot by this time, I fancy, for the carriage went off at a +deuce of a rate." + +She laughed again, while he paced the room with angry strides. + +"'Twas he, then, that betrayed me. The villain! I'll have his life for +that, as I'm a sinner." + +"Your a great sinner; Philip Searle. Sit down, now, and be quiet. +Where's the girl?" + +"What girl?" + +"Miranda Ayleff. The girl you've ruined; the girl you've put in my +place, and that I've come to drive out of it. Where is she?" + +"Don't speak so loud, Moll. Be quiet, can't you? See here, Moll," he +continued, drawing a chair to her side, and speaking in his old winning +way--"see here, Moll: why can't you just let this matter stand as it is, +and take your share of the plunder? You know I don't care about the +girl; so what difference does it make to you, if we allow her to think +that she's my lawful wife? Come, give us a kiss, Moll, and let's hear no +more about it." + +"Honey won't catch such an old fly as I am, Philip," replied the woman, +but with a gentled tone. "Where is the girl?" she asked suddenly, +starting from the chair. "I want to see her. Is she in there?" + +"No," said Philip, quickly, and rising to her passage to the door of +Miranda's chamber. "She is not there, Moll; you can't see her. Are you +crazy? You'd frighten the poor girl out of her senses." + +"She's in there. I'm going in to speak with her. Yes I shall, Philip, +and you needn't stop me." + +"Keep back. Keep quiet, can't you?" + +"No. Don't hold me, Philip Searle. Keep your hands off me, if you know +what's good for you." + +She brushed past him, and laid her hand upon the door-knob; but he +seized her violently by the arm and pulled her back. The action hurt her +wrist, and she was boiling with rage in a second. With her clenched +fist, she struck him straight in the face repeatedly, while with every +blow, she screamed out an imprecation. + +"Keep quiet, you hag! Keep quiet, confound you!" said the infuriated +man. "Won't you? Take that!" and he planted his fist upon her mouth. + +The woman, through her tears and sobs, howled at him curse upon curse. +With one hand upon her throat, he essayed to choke her utterance, and +thus they scuffled about the room. + +"I'll cut you, Philip; I will, by ----" + +Her hand, in fact, was fumbling about her pocket, and she drew forth a +small knife and thrust it into his shoulder. They were near the table, +over which Philip had thrust her down. He was wild with rage and the +brandy he had drank. His right hand instinctively grasped the heavy +bottle that by chance it came in contact with. The next instant, it +descended full upon her forehead, and with a moan of fear and pain, she +fell like lead upon the floor, and lay bleeding and motionless. + +Philip, still grasping the shattered bottle, gazed aghast upon the +lifeless form. Then a cry of terror burst upon his ear. He turned, and +beheld Miranda, with dishevelled hair, pale as her night-clothes, +standing at the threshold of the open door. With a convulsive shudder, +she staggered into the room, and fainted at his feet, her white arm +stained with the blood that was sinking in little pools into the carpet. + +He stood there gazing from one to the other, but without seeking to +succor either. The fumes of brandy, and the sudden revulsion from active +wrath to apathy, seemed to stupefy his brain. At last he stooped beside +the outstretched form of Molly, and, with averted face, felt in her +pocket and drew out the key. Stealthily, as if he feared that they could +hear him, he moved toward the door, opened it, and passing through, +closed it gently, as one does who would not waken a sleeping child or +invalid. Rapidly, but with soft steps, he descended the stairs, and went +out into the darkness and the storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +When Miranda awakened from her swoon, the lamp was burning dimly, and +the first light of dawn came faintly through the blinds. All was still +around her, and for some moments she could not recall the terrible scene +which had passed before her eyes. Presently her fingers came in contact +with the clots of gore that were thickening on her garment, and she +arose quickly, and, with a shudder, tottered against the wall. Her eyes +fell upon Moll's white face, the brow mangled and bruised, and the +dishevelled hair soaking in the crimson tide that kept faintly oozing +from the cut. She was alone in the house with that terrible object; for +Philip, careless of her convenience, had only procured the services of a +girl from a neighboring farm-house, who attended to the household duties +during the day, and went home in the evening. But her womanly compassion +was stronger than her sense of horror, and kneeling by the side of the +prostrate woman, with inexpressible relief she perceived, by the slight +pulsation of the heart, that life was there. Entering her chamber, she +hastily put on a morning wrapper, and returning with towel and water, +raised Moll's head upon her lap, and washed the thick blood from her +face. The cooling moisture revived the wounded woman; her bosom swelled +with a deep sigh, and she opened her eyes and looked languidly around. + +"How do you feel now, madam?" asked Miranda, gently. + +"Who are you?" said Moll, in reply, after a moment's pause. + +"Miranda--Miranda Searle, the wife of Philip," she added, trembling at +the remembrance of the woman's treatment at her husband's hands. + +Molly raised herself with an effort, and sat upon the floor, looking at +Miranda, while she laughed with a loud and hollow sound. + +"Philip's wife, eh? And you love him, don't you? Well, dreams can't last +forever." + +"Don't you feel strong enough to get up and lie upon the bed?" asked +Miranda, soothingly, for she was uncomfortable tinder the strange glare +that the woman fixed upon her. + +"I'm well enough," said Moll. "Where's Philip?" + +"Indeed, I do not know. I am very sorry, ma'am, that--that"-- + +"Never mind. Give me a glass of water." + +Miranda hastened to comply, and Moll swallowed the water, and remained +silent for a moment. + +"Shan't I go for assistance?" asked Miranda, who was anxious to put an +end to this painful interview, and was also distressed about her +husband's absence. "There's no one except ourselves in the house, but I +can go to the farmer's house near by." + +"Not for the world," interrupted Moll, taking her by the arm. "I'm well +enough. Here, let me lean on you. That's it. I'll sit on the +rocking-chair. Thank you. Just bind my head up, will you? Is it an ugly +cut?" she asked, as Miranda, having procured some linen, carefully +bandaged the wounded part. + +"Oh, yes! It's very bad. Does it pain you much, ma'am?" + +"Never mind. There, that will do. Now sit down there. Don't be afraid of +me. I ain't a-going to hurt you. It's only the cut that makes me look so +ugly." + +"Oh, no! I am not at all afraid, ma'am," said Miranda, shuddering in +spite of herself. + +"You are a sweet-looking girl," said Moll, fixing her haggard, but yet +beautiful eyes upon the fragile form beside her. "It's a pity you must +be unhappy. Has that fellow been unkind to you?" + +"What fellow madam?" + +"Philip." + +"He is my husband, madam," replied Miranda, mildly, but with the +slightest accent of displeasure. + +"He is, eh? Hum! You love him dearly, don't you?" + +Miranda blushed, and asked: + +"Do you know my husband?" + +"Know him! If you knew him as well, it would be better for you. You'll +know him well enough before long. You come from Virginia, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"You must go back there." + +"If Philip wishes it." + +"I tell you, you must go at once--to-day. I will give you money, if you +have none. And you must never speak of what has happened in this house. +Do you understand me?" + +"But Philip"-- + +"Forget Philip. You must never see him any more. Why should you want to? +Don't you know that he's a brute, and will beat you as he beat me, if +you stay with him. Why should you care about him?" + +"He is my husband, and you should not speak about him so to me," said +Miranda, struggling with her tears, and scarce knowing in what vein to +converse with the rude woman, whose strange language bewildered and +frightened her. + +"Bah!" said Moll, roughly. "You're a simpleton. There, don't cry, though +heaven knows you've cause enough, poor thing! Philip Searle's a villain. +I could send him to the State prison if I chose." + +"Oh, no! don't say that; indeed, don't." + +"I tell you I could; but I will not, if you mind me, and do what I tell +you. I'm a bad creature, but I won't harm you, if I can help it. You +helped me when I was lying there, after that villain hurt me, and I +can't help liking you. And yet you've hurt me, too." + +"I!" + +"Yes. Shall I tell you a story? Poor girl! you're wretched enough now, +but you'd better know the truth at once. Listen to me: I was an innocent +girl, like you, once. Not so beautiful, perhaps, and not so good; for I +was always proud and willful, and loved to have my own way. I was a +country girl, and had money left to me by my dead parents. A young man +made my acquaintance. He was gay and handsome, and made me believe that +he loved me. Well, I married him--do you hear? I married him--at the +church, with witnesses, and a minister to make me his true and lawful +wife. Curse him! I wish he had dropped down dead at the altar. There, +you needn't shudder; it would have been well for you if he had. I +married him, and then commenced my days of sorrow and--of guilt. He +squandered my money at the gambling-table, and I was sometimes in rags +and without food. He was drunk half the time, and abused me; but I was +even with him there, and gave him as good as he gave me. He taught me to +drink, and such a time as we sometimes made together would have made +Satan blush. I thought I was low enough; but he drove me lower yet. He +put temptation in my way--he did, curse his black heart! though he +denied it. I fell as low as woman can fall, and then I suppose you think +he left me? Well, he did, for a time; he went off somewhere, and perhaps +it was then he was trying to ruin some other girl, as foolish as I had +been. But he came back, and got money from me--the wages of my sin. And +all the while, he was as handsome, and could talk as softly as if he was +a saint. And with that smooth tongue and handsome face he won another +bride, and married her--married her, I tell you; and that's why I can +send him to the State prison." + +"Send him! Who? My God! what do you mean?" cried Miranda, rising slowly +from her chair, with clasped hands and ashen cheeks. + +"Philip Searle, my husband!" shouted Moll, rising also, and standing +with gleaming eyes before the trembling girl. + +Miranda sank slowly back into her seat, tearless, but shuddering as +with an ague fit. Only from her lips, with a moaning sound, a murmur +came: + +"No, no, no! oh, no!" + +"May God strike me dead this instant, if it is not true!" said Moll, +sadly; for she felt for the poor girl's, distress. + +Miranda rose, her hands pressed tightly against her heart, and moved +toward the door with tottering and uncertain steps, like one who +suffocates and seeks fresh air. Then her white lips were stained with +purple; a red stream gushed from her mouth and dyed the vestment on her +bosom; and ere Moll could reach her, she had sunk, with an agonizing +sob, upon the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +The night after the unhappy circumstance we have related, in the +bar-room of a Broadway hotel, in New York city, a colonel of volunteers, +moustached and uniformed, and evidently in a very unmilitary condition +of unsteadiness, was entertaining a group of convivial acquaintances, +with bacchanalian exercises and martian gossip. + +He had already, with a month's experience at the seat of war, culled the +glories of unfought fields, and was therefore an object of admiration to +his civilian friends, and of envy to several unfledged heroes, whose +maiden swords had as yet only jingled on the pavement of Broadway, or +flashed in the gaslight of saloons. They were yet none the less +conscious of their own importance, these embryo Napoleons, but wore +their shoulder straps with a killing air, and had often, on a sunny +afternoon, stood the fire of bright eyes from innumerable promenading +batteries, with gallantry, to say the least. + +And now they stood, like Caesars, amid clouds of smoke, and wielded +their formidable goblets with the ease of veterans, though not always +with a soldierly precision. And why should they not? Their tailors had +made them heroes, every one; and they had never yet once led the van in +a retreat. + +"And how's Tim?" asked one of the black-coated hangers-on upon +prospective glory. + +"Tim's in hot water," answered the colonel, elevating his chin and elbow +with a gesture more suggestive of Bacchus than of Mars. + +"Hot brandy and water would be more like him," said the acknowledged wit +of the party, looking gravely at the sugar in his empty glass, as if +indifferent to the bursts of laughter which rewarded his appropriate +sally. + +"I'll tell you about it," said the colonel. "Fill up, boys. Thompson, +take a fresh segar." + +Thompson took it, and the boys filled up, while the colonel flung down a +specimen of Uncle Sam's eagle with an emphasis that demonstrated what +he would do for the bird when opportunity offered. + +"You see, we had a party of Congressmen in camp, and were cracking some +champagne bottles in the adjutant's tent. We considered it a military +necessity to floor the legislators, you know; but one old senator was +tough as a siege-gun, and wouldn't even wink at his third bottle. So the +corks flew about like minie balls, but never a man but was too good a +soldier to cry 'hold, enough.' As for that old demijohn of a senator, it +seemed he couldn't hold enough, and wouldn't if he could; so we directed +the main battle against him, and opened a masked battery upon him, by +uncovering a bottle of Otard; but he never flinched. It was a game of +_Brag_ all over, and every one kept ordering 'a little more grape.' +Presently, up slaps a mounted aid, galloping like mad, and in tumbles +the sleepy orderly for the officer of the day. + +"'That's you, Tim,' says I. But Tim was just then singing the Star +Spangled Banner in a convivial whisper to the tune of the Red, White, +and Blue, and wouldn't be disturbed on no account. + +"'Tumble out, Tim,' says I, 'or I'll have you court-martialled and +shot.' + +"'In the neck,' says Tim. But he did manage to tumble out, and finished +the last stanzas with a flourish, for the edification of the mounted +aid-de-camp. + +"'Where's the officer of the day?' asked the aid, looking suspiciously +at Tim's shaky knees. + +"'He stands before you,' replied Tim, steadying himself a little by +affectionately hanging on to the horse's tail. + +"'You sir? you're unfit for duty, and I'll report you, sir, at +headquarters,' said the aid, who was a West Pointer, you know, stiff as +a poker in regimentals. + +"'Sir!--hic,' replied Tim, with an attempt at offended dignity, the +effect of which was rather spoiled by the accompanying hiccough. + +"'Where's the colonel!' asked the aid. + +"'Drunk,' says that rascal, Tim, confidentially, with a knowing wink. + +"'Where's the adjutant?' + +"'Drunk.' + +"'Good God, sir, are you all drunk?' + +"''Cept the surgeon--he's got the measles.' + +"'Orderly, give this dispatch, to the first sober officer you can +find.' + +"'It's no use, captain,' says Tim, 'the regiment's drunk--'cept me, +hic!' and Tim lost his balance, and tumbled over the orderly, for you +see the captain put spurs to his horse rather suddenly, and whisked the +friendly tail out of his hands. + +"So we were all up before the general the next day, but swore ourselves +clear, all except Tim, who had the circumstantial evidence rather too +strong against him." + +"And such are the men in whom the country has placed its trust?" +muttered a grey-headed old gentleman, who, while apparently absorbed in +his newspaper, had been listening to the colonel's narrative. + +A young man who had lounged into the room approached the party and +caught the colonel's eye: + +"Ah! Searle, how are you? Come up and take a drink." + +A further requisition was made upon the bartender, and the company +indulged anew. Searle, although a little pale and nervous, was all life +and gaiety. His coming was a fresh brand on the convivial flame, and +the party, too much exhilarated to be content with pushing one vice to +excess, sallied forth in search of whatever other the great city might +afford. They had not to look far. Folly is at no fault in the metropolis +for food of whatever quality to feed upon; and they were soon +accommodated with excitement to their hearts content at a fashionable +gambling saloon on Broadway. The colonel played with recklessness and +daring that, if he carries it to the battle-field, will wreathe his brow +with laurels; but like many a rash soldier before him, he did not win. +On the contrary, his eagles took flight with a rapidity suggestive of +the old adage that "gold hath wings," and when, long after midnight, he +stood upon the deserted street alone with Philip Searle and his +reflections, he was a sadder and a soberer man. + +"Searle, I'm a ruined man." + +"You'll fight all the better for it," replied Philip, knocking the ashes +from his segar. "Come, you'll never mend the matter by taking cold here +in the night air; where do you put up? I'll see you home." + +"D--n you, you take it easy," said the colonel, bitterly. Philip could +afford to take it easy, for he had most of the colonel's money in his +pocket. In fact, the unhappy votary of Mars was more thoroughly ruined +than his companion was aware of, for when fortune was hitting him +hardest, he had not hesitated to bring into action a reserve of +government funds which had been intrusted to his charge for specific +purposes. + +"Searle," said the colonel, after they had walked along silently for a +few minutes, "I was telling you this evening about that vacant +captaincy." + +"Yes, you were telling me I shouldn't have it," replied Philip, with an +accent of injured friendship. + +"Well, I fancied it out of my power to do anything about it. But"-- + +"Well, but?"-- + +"I think I might get it for you, for--for"---- + +"A consideration?" suggested Philip, interrogatively. + +"Well, to be plain with you, let me have five hundred, and you've won +all of that to-night, and I'll get you the captaincy." + +"We'll talk about it to-morrow morning," replied Philip. + +And in the morning the bargain was concluded; Philip, with the promise +that all should be satisfactorily arranged, started the same day for +Washington, to await the commission so honorably disposed of by the +gallant colonel. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +We will let thirty days pass on, and bear the reader South of the +Potomac, beyond the Federal lines and within rifle-shot of an advanced +picket of the Confederate army, under General Beauregard. It was a +dismal night--the 16th of July. The rain fell heavily and the wind +moaned and shrieked through the lone forests like unhappy spirits +wailing in the darkness. A solitary horseman was cautiously wending his +way through the storm upon the Centreville road and toward the +Confederate Hue. He bore a white handkerchief, and from time to time, as +his ear seemed to catch a sound other than the voice of the tempest, he +drew his rein and raised the fluttering symbol at his drawn sword's +point. Through the dark masses of foliage that skirted the roadside, +presently could be seen the fitful glimmer of a watchfire, and the +traveller redoubled his precautions, but yet rode steadily on. + +"Halt!" cried a stern, loud voice from a clump of bushes that looked +black and threatening in the darkness. The horseman checked his horse +and sat immovable in the centre of the road. + +"Who goes there?" followed quick, in the same deep, peremptory tone. + +"An officer of the United States, with a flag of truce," was answered in +a clear, firm voice. + +"Stand where you are." There was a pause, and presently four dark forms +emerged from the roadside, and stood at the horse's head. + +"You've chosen a strange time for your errand, and a dangerous one," +said one of the party, with a mild and gentlemanly accent. + +"Who speaks?" + +"The officer in command of this picket." + +"Is not that Beverly Weems?" + +"The same. And surely I know that voice." + +"Of course you do, if you know Harold Hare." + +And the stranger, dismounting, stretched out his hand, which was eagerly +and warmly clasped, and followed by a silent and prolonged embrace. + +"How rash you have been, Harold," said Beverly, at last. "It is a mercy +that I was by, else might a bullet have been your welcome. Why did you +not wait till morning?" + +"Because my mission admits of no delay. It is most opportune that I have +met you. You have spoken to me at times, and Oriana often, of your young +cousin, Miranda." + +"Yes, Harold, what of her?" + +"Beverly, she is within a rifle-shot of where we stand, very sick--dying +I believe." + +"Good God, Harold! what strange tale is this?" + +"I am in command of an advanced picket, stationed at the old farm-house +yonder. Toward dusk this evening, a carriage drove up, and when +challenged, a pass was presented, with orders to assist the bearer, +Miranda Ayleff, beyond the lines. I remembered the name, and stepping to +the carriage door, beheld two females, one of whom was bending over her +companion, and holding a vial, a restorative, I suppose, to her lips. + +"'She has fainted, sir,' said the woman, 'and is very ill. I'm afraid +she won't last till she gets to Richmond. Can't you help her; isn't +there a surgeon among you at the farm-house there?' + +"We had no surgeon, but I had her taken into the house, and made as +comfortable as possible. When she recovered from her swoon, she asked +for you, and repeatedly for Oriana, and would not be comforted until I +promised her that she should be taken immediately on to Richmond. 'She +could not die there, among strangers,' she said; 'she must see one +friend before she died. She must go home at once and be forgiven.' And +thus she went, half in delirium, until I feared that her life would pass +away, from sheer exhaustion. I determined to ride over to your picket at +once, not dreaming, however, that you were in command. At dawn to-morrow +we shall probably be relieved, and it might be beyond my power then to +meet her wishes." + +"I need not say how much I thank you, Harold. But you were ever kind and +generous. Poor girl! Let us ride over at once, Harold. Who is her +companion?" + +"A woman some years her senior, but yet young, though prematurely faded. +I could get little from her. Not even her name. She is gloomy and +reserved, even morose at times; but she seems to be kind and attentive +to Miranda." + +Beverly left some hasty instructions with his sergeant, and rode over +with Harold to the farm-house. They found Miranda reclining upon a couch +of blankets, over which Harold had spread his military cloak, for the +dwelling had been stripped of its furniture, and was, in fact, little +more than a deserted ruin. The suffering girl was pale and attenuated, +and her sunken eyes were wild and bright with the fire of delirium. Yet +she seemed to recognize Beverly, and stretched out her thin arms when he +approached, exclaiming in tremulous accents: + +"Take me home, Beverly, oh, take me home!" + +Moll was seated by her side, upon a soldier's knapsack; her chin resting +upon her hands, and her black eyes fixed sullenly upon the floor. She +would give but short and evasive answers to Beverly's questions, and +stubbornly refused to communicate the particulars of Miranda's history. + +"She broke a blood-vessel a month ago in Boston. But she got better, +and was always wanting to go to her friends in Richmond. And so I +brought her on. And now you must take care of her, for I'm going back to +camp." + +This was about all the information she would give, and the two young men +ceased to importune her, and directed their attentions to the patient. + +The carriage was prepared and the cushions so arranged, with the help of +blankets, as to form a kind of couch within the vehicle. Upon this +Miranda was tenderly lifted, and when she was told that she should be +taken home without delay, and would soon see Oriana, she smiled like a +pleased child, and ceased complaining. + +Beverly stood beside his horse, with his hand clasped in Harold's. The +rain poured down upon them, and the single watchfire, a little apart +from which the silent sentinel stood leaning on his rifle, threw its +rude glare upon their saddened faces. + +"Good bye, old friend," said Beverly. "We have met strangely to-night, +and sadly. Pray heaven we may not meet more sadly on the battle-field." + +"Tell Oriana," replied Harold, "that I am with her in my prayers." He +had not spoken of her before, although Beverly had mentioned that she +was at the old manor house, and well. "I have not heard from Arthur," he +continued, "for I have been much about upon scouting parties since I +came, but I doubt not he is well, and I may find a letter when I return +to camp. Good bye; and may our next meeting see peace upon the land." + +They parted, and the carriage, with Beverly riding at its side, moved +slowly into the darkness, and was gone. + +Harold returned into the farm-house, and found Moll seated where he had +left her, and still gazing fixedly at the floor. He did not disturb her, +but paced the floor slowly, lost in his own melancholy thoughts. After a +silence of some minutes, the woman spoke, without looking up. + +"Have they gone?" + +"Yes." + +"She is dying, ain't she?" + +"I fear she is very ill." + +"I tell you, she's dying--and it's better that she is." + +She then relapsed into her former mood, but after a while, as Harold +paused at the window and looked out, she spoke again. + +"Will it soon be day?" + +"Within an hour, I think," replied Harold. "Do you go back at daylight?" + +"Yes." + +"You have no horse?" + +"You'll lend me one, won't you? If you don't, I don't care; I can walk." + +"We will do what we can for you. What is your business at the camp?" + +"Never mind," she answered gruffly. And then, after a pause, she asked: + +"Is there a man named Searle in your army--Philip Searle?" + +"Nay, I know not. There may be. I have never heard the name. Do you seek +such a person? Is he your friend, or relative?" + +"Never mind," she said again, and then was silent as before. + +With the approach of dawn, the sentry challenged an advancing troop, +which proved to be the relief picket guard. Harold saluted the officer +in command, and having left orders respectively with their +subordinates, they entered the farm-house together, and proceeded to the +apartment where Moll still remained seated. She did not seem to notice +their entrance; but when the new-comer's voice, in some casual remark, +reached her ear, she rose up suddenly, and walking straight forward to +where the two stood, looking out at the window, she placed her hand +heavily, and even rudely, upon his shoulder. He turned at the touch, and +beholding her, started back, with not only astonishment, but fear. + +"You needn't look so white, Philip Searle," she said at last, in a low, +hoarse tone. "It's not a ghost you're looking at. But perhaps you're +only angry that you only half did your business while you were at it." + +"Where did you pick up this woman?" asked Searle of Harold, drawing him +aside. + +"She came with an invalid on her way to Richmond," replied Harold. + +"What invalid?" + +He spoke almost in a whisper, but Moll overheard him, and answered +fiercely: + +"One that is dying, Philip; and you know well enough who murdered her. +'Twasn't me you struck the hardest blow that night. Do you see that +scar? That's nothing; but you struck her to the heart." + +"What does she mean?" asked Harold, looking sternly into Philip's +disturbed eye. + +"Heaven knows. She's mad," he answered. "Did she tell you nothing--no +absurd story?" + +"Nothing. She was sullen and uncommunicative, and half the time took no +notice of our questions." + +"No wonder, poor thing!" said Philip. "She's mad. However, I have some +little power with her, and if you will leave us alone awhile, I will +prevail upon her to go quietly back to Washington." + +Harold went up to the woman, who was leaning with folded arms against +the wall, and spoke kindly to her. + +"Should you want assistance, I will help you. We shall be going in half +an hour. You must be ready to go with us, you know, for you can't stay +here, where there may be fighting presently." + +"Thank you," she replied. "Don't mind me. I can take care of myself. +You can leave us alone together. I'm not afraid of him." + +Harold left the room, and busied himself about the preparations for +departure. Left alone with the woman he had wronged, Philip for some +moments paced the room nervously and with clouded brow. Finally, he +stopped abruptly before Moll, who had been following his motions with +her wild, unquiet eyes. + +"Where have you sprung from now, and what do you want?" + +"Do you see that scar?" she said again, but more fiercely than before. +"While that lasts, there's no love 'twixt you and me, and it'll last me +till my death." + +"Then why do you trouble me. If you don't love me, why do you hang about +me wherever I go? We'll be better friends away from each other than +together. Why don't you leave me alone?" + +"Ha! ha! we must be quits for that, you know," she answered, rather +wildly, and pointing to her forehead. "Do you think I'm a poor whining +fool like her, to get sick and die when you abuse me? I'll haunt you +till I die, Philip; and after, too, if I can, to punish you for that." + +Philip fancied that he detected the gleam of insanity in her eye, and he +was not wrong, for the terrible blow he had inflicted had injured her +brain; and her mind, weakened by dissipation and the action of +excitement upon her violent temperament, was tottering upon the verge of +madness. + +"When I was watching that poor sick girl," she continued, "I thought I +could have loved her, she was so beautiful and gentle, as she lay there, +white and thin, and never speaking a word against you, Philip, but +thinking of her friends far away, and asking to be taken home--home, +where her mother was sleeping under the sod--home, to be loved and +kissed again before she died. And I would have loved her if I hadn't +hated you so much that there wasn't room for the love of any living +creature in my bad heart. I used to sit all night and hear her +talk--talk in her dreams and in her fever--as if there were kind people +listening to her, people that were kind to her long ago. And the room +seemed full of angels sometimes, so that I was afraid to move and look +about; for I could swear I heard the fanning of their wings and the +rustle of their feet upon the carpet. Sometimes I saw big round tears +upon her wasted cheeks, and I wouldn't brush them away, for they looked +like jewels that the angels had dropped there. And then I tried to cry +myself, but, ha! ha! I had to laugh instead, although my heart was +bursting. I wished I could have cried; I'm sure it would have made my +heart so light, and perhaps it would have burst that ring of hot iron +that was pressing so hard around my head. It's there now, sinking and +burning right against my temples. But I can't cry, I haven't since I was +a little girl, long ago, long ago; but I think I cried when mother died, +long ago, long ago." + +She was speaking in a kind of dreamy murmur, while Philip paced the +room; and finally she sank down upon the floor, and sat there with her +hands pressed against her brows, rocking herself to and fro. + +"Moll," said Philip, stooping over her, and speaking in a gentle tone, +"I'm sorry I struck you, indeed I am; but I was drunk, and when you cut +me, I didn't know what I was about. Now let's be friends, there's a +good girl. You must go back to Washington, you know, and to New York, +and stay there till I come back. Won't you, now, Moll?" + +"Won't I? No, Philip Searle, I won't. I'll stay by you till you kill me; +yes, I will. You want to go after that poor girl and torment her; but +she's dying and soon you won't be able to hurt her any more." + +"Was it she, Moll, was it Miranda that came here with you? Was she going +to Richmond?" + +"She was going to heaven, Philip Searle, out of the reach of such as you +and me. I'm good enough for you, Philip, bad as I am; and I'm your wife, +besides." + +"You told her that?" + +"Told her? Ha! ha! Told her? do you think I'm going to make that a +secret? No, no. We're a bad couple, sure enough; but I'm not going to +deny you, for all that. Look you, young man," she continued, addressing +Harold, who at that moment entered the room, "that is Philip Searle, and +Philip Searle is my husband--my husband, curse his black heart! and if +he dares deny it, I'll have him in the State prison, for I can do it." + +"She's perfectly insane," said Philip; but Harold looked thoughtful and +perplexed, and scanned his fellow-officer's countenance with a searching +glance. + +"At all events," he said, "she must not remain here. My good woman, we +are ready now, and you must come with us. We have a horse for you, and +will make you comfortable. Are you ready?" + +"No," she replied, sullenly, "I won't go. I'll stay with my husband." + +"Nay," remonstrated Harold, gently, "you cannot stay here. This is no +place for women. When we arrive at headquarters, you shall tell your +story to General McDowell, and he will see that you are taken care of, +and have justice if you have been wronged. But you must not keep us +waiting. We are soldiers, you know, and must do our duty." + +Still, however, she insisted upon remaining where she was; but when two +soldiers, at a gesture from Harold, approached and took her gently by +the arms, she offered no resistance, and suffered herself to be led +quietly out. Harold coldly saluted Searle, and left him in charge of the +post; while himself and party, accompanied by Moll and the coachman who +had driven them from Washington, were soon briskly marching toward the +camp. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Toward dusk of the same day, while Philip and his lieutenant were seated +at the rude pine table, conversing after their evening meal, the +sergeant of the guard entered with a slip of paper, on which was traced +a line in pencil. + +"Is the bearer below?" asked Philip, as he cast his eyes over the paper. + +"Yes, sir. He was challenged a minute ago, and answered with the +countersign and that slip for you, sir." + +"It's all right, sergeant; you may send him up. Mr. Williams," he +continued, to his comrade, "will you please to look about a little and +see that all is in order. I will speak a few words with this messenger." + +The lieutenant and sergeant left the room, and presently afterward there +entered, closing the door carefully after him, no less a personage than +Seth Rawbon. + +"You're late," said Philip, motioning him to a chair. + +"There's an old proverb to answer that," answered Rawbon, as he +leisurely adjusted his lank frame upon the seat. Having established +himself to his satisfaction, he continued: + +"I had to make a considerable circuit to avoid the returning picket, who +might have bothered me with questions. I'm in good time, though. If +you've made up your mind to go, you'll do it as well by night, and safer +too." + +"What have you learned?" + +"Enough to make me welcome at headquarters. You were right about the +battle. There'll be tough work soon. They're fixing for a general +advance. If you expect to do your first fighting under the stars and +bars, you must swear by them to-night." + +"Have you been in Washington?" + +"Every nook and corner of it. They don't keep their eyes skinned, I +fancy, up there. Your fancy colonels have slippery tongues when the +champagne corks are flying. If they fight as hard as they drink, they'll +give us trouble. Well, what do you calculate to do?" he added, after a +pause, during which Philip was moody and lost in thought. + +Philip rose from his seat and paced the floor uneasily, while Rawbon +filled a glass from a flask of brandy on the table. It was now quite +dark without, and neither of them observed the figure of a woman +crouched on the narrow veranda, her chin resting on the sill of the open +window. At last Philip resumed his seat, and he, too, swallowed a deep +draught from the flask of brandy. + +"Tell me what I can count upon?" he asked. + +"The same grade you have, and in a crack regiment. It's no use asking +for money. They've none to spare for such as you--now don't look +savage--I mean they won't buy men that hain't seen service, and you +can't expect them to. I told you all about that before, and it's time +you had your mind made up." + +"What proofs of good faith can you give me?" + +Rawbon thrust his hand into his bosom and drew out a roll of parchment. + +"This commission, under Gen. Beauregard's hand, to be approved when you +report yourself at headquarters." + +Philip took the document and read it attentively, while Rawbon occupied +himself with filling his pipe from a leathern pouch. The female figure +stepped in at the window, and, gliding noiselessly into the room, seated +herself in a third chair by the table before either of the men became +aware of her presence. They started up with astonishment and +consternation. She did not seem to heed them, but leaning upon the +table, she stretched her hand to the brandy flask and applied it to her +lips. + +"Who's this?" demanded Rawbon, with his hand upon the hilt of his large +bowie knife. + +"Curse her! my evil genius," answered Philip, grating his teeth with +anger. It was Moll. + +"What's this, Philip!" she said, clutching the parchment which had been +dropped upon the table. + +"Leave that," ejaculated her husband, savagely, and darting to take it +from her. + +But she eluded his grasp, and ran with the document into a corner of the +room. + +"Ha! ha! ha! I know what it is," she said, waving it about as a +schoolboy sometimes exultingly exhibits a toy that he has mischievously +snatched from a comrade. + +"It's your death-warrant, Philip Searle, if somebody sees it over +yonder. I heard you. I heard you. You're going over to fight for Jeff. +Davis. Well, I don't care, but I'll go with you. Don't come near me. +Don't hurt me, Philip, or I'll scream to the soldier out there." + +"I won't hurt you, Moll. Be quiet now, there's a good girl. Come here +and take a sup more of brandy." + +"I won't. You want to hurt me. But you can't. I'm a match for you both. +Ha! ha! You don't know how nicely I slipped away from the soldiers when +they, were resting. I went into the thick bushes, right down in the +water, and lay still. I wanted to laugh when I saw them, hunting for me, +and I could almost have touched the young officer if I had wished. But I +lay still as a mouse, and they went off and never found me. Ha! ha! ha!" + +"Is she drunk or mad?" asked Rawbon. + +"Mad," answered Philip, "but cunning enough to do mischief, if she has a +mind to. Moll, dear, come sit down here and be quiet; come, now." + +"Mad? mad?" murmured Moll, catching his word. "No, I'm not mad," she +continued wildly, passing her hands over her brows, "but I saw spirits +just now in the woods, and heard voices, and they've frightened me. The +ghost of the girl that died in the hospital was there. You knew little +blue-eyed Lizzie, Philip. She was cursing me when she died and calling +for her mother. But I don't care. The man paid me well for getting her, +and 'twasn't my fault if she got sick and died. Poor thing! poor thing! +poor little blue-eyed Lizzie! She was innocent enough when she first +came, but she got to be as bad as any--until she got sick and died. Poor +little Lizzie!" And thus murmuring incoherently, the unhappy woman sat +down upon the floor, and bent her head upon her knees. + +"Clap that into her mouth," whispered Philip, handing Rawbon his +handkerchief rolled tightly into a ball. "Quietly now, but quick. Look +out now. She's strong as a trooper." + +They approached her without noise, but suddenly, and while Philip +grasped her wrists, Rawbon threw back her head, and forcing the jaws +open by a violent pressure of his knuckles against the joint, thrust +the handkerchief between her teeth and bound it tightly there with two +turns of his sash. The shriek was checked upon her lips and changed into +a painful, gurgling groan. The poor creature, with convulsive efforts, +struggled to free her arms from Philip's grasp, but he managed to keep +his hold until Rawbon had secured her wrists with the stout cord that +suspended his canteen. A silk neckerchief was then tightly bound around +her ankles, and Moll, with heaving breast and glaring eyes, lay, moaning +piteously, but speechless and motionless, upon the floor. + +"We can leave her there," said Rawbon. "It's not likely any of your men +will come in, until morning at least. Let's be off at once." + +Philip snatched up the parchment where it had fallen, and silently +followed his companion. + +"We are going beyond the line to look about a bit," he said to the +sergeant on duty, as they passed his post. "Keep all still and quiet +till we return." + +"Take some of the boys with you, captain," replied the sergeant. "We're +unpleasant close to those devils, sir." + +"It's all right, sergeant. There's no danger," And nodding to Seth, the +two walked leisurely along the road until concealed by the darkness, +when they quickened their pace and pushed boldly toward the Confederate +lines. + +Half an hour, or less perhaps, after their departure, the sentry, posted +at about a hundred yards from the house, observed an unusual light +gleaming from the windows of the old farm-house. He called the attention +of Lieutenant Williams, who was walking by in conversation with the +sergeant, to the circumstance. + +"Is not the captain there?" asked the lieutenant. + +"No, sir," replied the sergeant, "he started off to go beyond the line +half an hour ago." + +"Alone?" + +"No, sir; that chap that came in at dusk was with him." + +"It's strange he should have gone without speaking to me about it." + +"I wanted him to take some of our fellows along, sir, but he didn't care +to. By George! that house is afire, sir. Look there." + +While talking, they had been proceeding toward the farm-house, when the +light from the windows brightened suddenly into a broad glare, and +called forth the sergeant's exclamation. Before they reached the +building a jet of flame had leaped from one of the casements, and +continued to whirl like a flaming ribbon in the air. They quickened +their pace to a run, and bursting into the doorway, were driven back by +a dense volume of smoke, that rolled in black masses along the corridor. +They went in again, and the sergeant pushed open the door of the room +where Moll lay bound, but shut it quickly again, as a tongue of flame +lashed itself toward him like an angry snake. + +"It's all afire, sir," he said, coughing and spluttering through the +smoke. "Are there any of the captain's traps inside?" + +"Nothing at all," replied the lieutenant. "Let's go in, however, and see +what can be done." + +They entered, but were driven back by the baffling smoke and the flames +that were now licking all over the dry plastering of the room. + +"It's no use," said the lieutenant, when they had gained their breath in +the open air. "There's no water, except in the brook down yonder, and +what the men have in their canteens. The house is like tinder. Let it +go, sergeant; it's not worth saving at the risk of singing your +whiskers." + +The men had now come up, and gathered about the officer to receive his +commands. + +"Let the old shed go, my lads," he said. "It's well enough that some +rebel should give us a bonfire now and then. Only stand out of the +glare, boys, or you may have some of those devils yonder making targets +of you." + +The men fell back into the shadow, and standing in little groups, or +seated upon the sward, watched the burning house, well pleased to have +some spectacle to relieve the monotony of the night. And they looked +with indolent gratification, passing the light jest and the merry word, +while the red flames kept up their wild sport, and great masses of +rolling vapor upheaved from the crackling roof, and blackened the +midnight sky. None sought to read the mystery of that conflagration. It +was but an old barn gone to ashes a little before its time. Perhaps some +mischievous hand among them had applied the torch for a bit of +deviltry. Perhaps the flames had caught from Rawbon's pipe, which he had +thrown carelessly among a heap of rubbish when startled by Molly's +sudden apparition. Or yet, perhaps, though Heaven forbid it, for the +sake of human nature, the same hand that had struck so nearly fatally +once, had been tempted to complete the work of death in a more terrible +form. + +But within those blistering walls, who can tell what ghastly revels the +mad flames were having over their bound and solitary victim! Perhaps, as +she lay there with distended jaws, and eyeballs starting from their +sockets, that brain, amid the visions of its madness, became conscious +of the first kindling of the subtle element that was so soon to clasp +her in its terrible embrace. How dreadful, while the long minutes +dragged, to watch its stealthy progress, and to feel that one little +effort of an unbound hand could avert the danger, and yet to lie there +helpless, motionless, without even the power to give utterance to the +shriek of terror which strained her throat to suffocation. And then, as +the creeping flame became stronger and brighter, and took long and +silent leaps from one object to another, gliding along the lathed, and +papered wall, rolling and curling along the raftered ceiling, would not +the wretched woman, raving already in delirium, behold the spectres that +her madness feared, beckoning to her in the lurid glare, or gliding in +and out among the wild fires that whirled in fantastic gambols around +and overhead! Nearer and nearer yet the rolling flame advances; it +commences to hiss and murmur in its progress; it wreathes itself about +the chairs and tables, and laps up the little pool of brandy spilled +from the forgotten flask; it plays about her feet, and creeps lazily +amid the folds of her gown, yet wet from the brook in which she had +concealed herself that day; it scorches and shrivels up the flesh upon +her limbs, while pendent fiery tongues leap from the burning rafters, +and kiss her cheeks and brows where the black veins swell almost to +bursting; every muscle and nerve of her frame is strained with +convulsive efforts to escape, but the cords only sink into the bloating +flesh, and she lies there crisping like a log, and as powerless to +move. The dense, black smoke hangs over her like a pall, but prostrate +as she is, it cannot sink low enough to suffocate and end her agony. How +the bared bosom heaves! how the tortured limbs writhe, and the +blackening cuticle emits a nauseous steam! The black blood oozing from +her nostrils proclaims how terrible the inward struggle. The whole frame +bends and shrinks, and warps like a fragment of leather thrown into a +furnace--the flame has reached her vitals--at last, by God's mercy, she +is dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +At dawn of the morning of the 21st of July, an officer in plain undress +was busily writing at a table in a plainly-furnished apartment of a +farm-house near Manassas. He was of middle age and medium size, with +dark complexion, bold, prominent features, and steady, piercing black +eyes. His manner and the respectful demeanor of several officers in +attendance, rather than any insignia of office which he wore, bespoke +him of high rank; and the earnest attention which he bestowed upon his +labor, together with the numerous orders, written and verbal, which he +delivered at intervals to members of his staff, denoted that an affair +of importance was in hand. Several horses, ready caparisoned, were held +by orderlies at the door-way, and each aid, as he received instructions, +mounted and dashed away at a gallop. + +The building was upon a slight elevation of land, and along the plain +beneath could be seen the long rows of tents and the curling smoke of +camp-fires; while the hum of many voices in the distance, with here and +there a bugle-blast and the spirit-stirring roll of drums, denoted the +site of the Confederate army. The reveille had just sounded, and the din +of active preparation could be heard throughout the camp. Regiments were +forming, and troops of horse were marshalling in squadron, while others +were galloping here and there; while, through the ringing of sabres and +the strains of marshal music, the low rumbling of the heavy-wheeled +artillery was the most ominous sound. + +An orderly entered the apartment where General Beauregard was writing, +and spoke with one of the members of the staff in waiting. + +"What is it, colonel?" asked the general, looking up. + +"An officer from the outposts, with two prisoners, general." And he +added something in a lower tone. + +"Very opportune," said Beauregard. "Let them come in." + +The orderly withdrew and reentered with Captain Weems, followed by +Philip Searle and Rawbon. A glance of recognition passed between the +latter and Beauregard, and Seth, obeying a gesture of the general, +advanced and placed a small package on the table. The general opened it +hastily and glanced over its contents. + +"As I thought," he muttered. "You are sure as to the disposition of the +advance?" + +"Quite sure of the main features." + +"When did you get in?" + +"Only an hour ago. Their vanguard was close behind. Before noon, I think +they will be upon you in three columns from the different roads." + +"Very well, you may go now. Come to me in half an hour. I shall have +work for you. Who is that with you?" + +"Captain Searle." + +"Of whom we spoke?" + +"The same." + +The general nodded, and Seth left the apartment. Beauregard for a second +scanned Philip's countenance with a searching glance. + +"Approach, sir, if you please. We have little time for words. Have you +information to impart?" + +"Nothing beyond what I think you know already. You may expect at every +moment to hear the boom of McDowell's guns." + +"On the right?" + +"I think the movement will be on your left. Richardson remains on the +southern road, in reserve. Tyler commands the centre. Carlisle, Bicket +and Ayre will give you trouble there with their batteries. Hunter and +Heintzelman, with fourteen thousand, will act upon your left." + +"Then we are wrong, Taylor," said Beauregard, turning to an officer at +his side; and rising, the two conversed for a moment in low but earnest +tone. + +"It is plausible," said Beauregard, at length. "Taylor, ride down to Bee +and see about it. Captain Searle, you will report yourself to Colonel +Hampton at once. He will have orders for you. Captain Weems, you will +please see him provided for. Come, gentlemen, to the field!" + +The general and his staff were soon mounted and riding rapidly toward +the masses and long lines of troops that were marshalling on the plain +below. + +Beverly stood at the doorway alone with Philip Searle. He was grave and +sad, although the bustle and preparation of an expected battle lent a +lustre to his eye. To his companion he was stern and distant, and they +both walked onward for some moments without a word. At a short distance +from the building, they came upon a black groom holding two saddled +horses. + +"Mount, sir, if you please," said Beverly, and they rode forward at a +rapid pace. Philip was somewhat surprised to observe that their course +lay away from the camp, and in fact the sounds of military life were +lessening as they went on. They passed the brow of the hill and +descended by a bridle-path into a little valley, thick with shrubbery +and trees. At the gateway of a pleasant looking cottage Beverly drew +rein. + +"I must ask you to enter here," he said, dismounting. "Within a few +hours we shall both be, probably, in the ranks of battle; but first I +have a duty to perform." + +They entered the cottage, within which all was hushed and still; the +sounds of an active household were not heard. They ascended the little +stair, and Beverly pushed gently open the door of an apartment and +motioned to Philip to enter. He paused at first, for as he stood on the +threshold a low sob reached his ear. + +"Pass in," said Beverly, in a grave, stern tone. "I have promised that I +would bring you, else, be assured, I would not linger in your presence." + +They entered. It was a small, pleasant room, and through the lattice +interwoven with woodbine the rising sun looked in like a friendly +visitor. Upon a bed was stretched the form of a young girl, sleeping or +dead, it would be hard to tell, the features were so placid and +beautiful in repose. One ray of sunlight fell among the tangles of her +golden hair, and glowed like a halo above the marble-white brow. The +long dark lashes rested upon her cheek with a delicate contrast like +that of the velvety moss when it peeps from the new-fallen snow. Her +hands were folded upon her bosom above the white coverlet; they clasped +a lily, that seemed as if sculptured upon a churchyard stone, so white +was the flower, so white the bosom that it pressed. One step nearer +revealed that she was dead; earthly sleep was never so calm and +beautiful. By the bedside Oriana Weems was seated, weeping silently. +She arose when her brother entered, and went to him, putting her hands +about his neck. Beverly tenderly circled his arm about her waist, and +they stood together at the bedside, gazing on all that death had left +upon earth of their young cousin, Miranda. + +"She died this morning very soon after you left," said Oriana, "without +pain and I think without sorrow, for she wore that same sweet smile that +you see now frozen upon her lips. Oh, Beverly, I am sorry you brought +_him_ here!" she added, in a lower tone, glancing with a shudder at +Philip Searle, who stood looking with a frown out at the lattice, and +stopping the sunbeam from coming into the room. "It seems," she +continued, "as if his presence brought a curse that would drag upon the +angels' wings that are bearing her to heaven. Though, thank God, she is +beyond his power to harm her now!" and she knelt beside the pillow and +pressed her lips upon the cold, white brow. + +"She wished to see him, Oriana, before she died," said Beverly, "and I +promised to bring him; and yet I am glad she passed away before his +coming, for I am sure he could bring no peace with him for the dying, +and his presence now is but an insult to the dead." + +When he had spoken, there was silence for a while, which was broken by +the sudden boom of a distant cannon. They all started at the sound, for +it awakened them from mournful memories, to yet perhaps more solemn +thoughts of what was to come before that bright sun should rise upon the +morrow. Beverly turned slowly to where Philip stood, and pointed sternly +at the death-bed. + +"You have seen enough, if you have dared to look at all," he said. "I +have not the power, nor the will, to punish. A soldier's death to-day is +what you can best pray for, that you may not live to think of this +hereafter. She sent for you to forgive you, but died and you are +unforgiven. Bad as you are, I pity you that you must go to battle +haunted by the remembrance of this murder that you have done." + +Philip half turned with an angry curl upon his lip, as if prepared for +some harsh answer; but he saw the white thin face and folded hands, and +left the room without a word. + +"Farewell! dear sister," said Beverly, clasping the weeping girl in his +arms. "I have already overstaid the hour, and must spur hard to be at my +post in time. God bless you! it may be I shall never see you again; if +so, I leave you to God and my country. But I trust all will be well." + +"Oh, Beverly! come back to me, my brother; I am alone in the world +without you. I would not have you swerve from your duty, although death +came with it; but yet, remember that I am alone without you, and be not +rash or reckless. I will watch and pray for you beside this death-bed, +Beverly, while you are fighting, and may God be with you." + +Beverly summoned an old negress to the room, and consigned his sister to +her care. Descending the stairs rapidly, he leaped upon his horse, and +waving his hand to Philip, who was already mounted, they plunged along +the valley, and ascending the crest of the hill, beheld, while they +still spurred on, the vast army in motion before them, while far off in +the vanward, from time to time, the dull, heavy booming of artillery +told that the work was already begun. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +On the evening of the 20th July, Hunter's division, to which Harold Hare +was attached, was bivouacked on the old Braddock Road, about a mile and +a half southeast of Centreville. It was midnight. There was a strange +and solemn hush throughout the camp, broken only by the hail of the +sentinel and the occasional trampling of horses hoofs, as some +aid-de-camp galloped hastily along the line. Some of the troops were +sleeping, dreaming, perhaps, of home, and far away, for the time, from +the thought of the morrow's danger. But most were keeping vigil through +the long hours of darkness, communing with themselves or talking in low +murmurs with some comrade; for each soldier knew that the battle-hour +was at hand. Harold was stretched upon his cloak, striving in vain to +win the boon of an hour's sleep, for he was weary with the toil of the +preceding day; but he could not shut out from his brain the whirl of +excitement and suspense which that night kept so many tired fellows +wakeful when they most needed rest. It was useless to court slumber, on +the eve, perhaps, of his eternal sleep; he arose and walked about into +the night. + +Standing beside the dying embers of a watchfire, wrapped in his blanket, +and gazing thoughtfully into the little drowsy flames that yet curled +about the blackened fagots, was a tall and manly form, which Harold +recognized as that of his companion in arms, a young lieutenant of his +company. He approached, and placed his hand upon his fellow-soldier's +arm. + +"What book of fate are you reading in the ashes, Harry?" he asked, in a +pleasant tone, anxious to dispel some portion of his own and his +comrade's moodiness. + +The soldier turned to him and smiled, but sorrowfully and with effort. + +"My own destiny, perhaps," he answered. "Those ashes were glowing once +with light and warmth, and before the dawn they will be cold, as you or +I may be to-morrow, Harold." + +"I thought you were too old a soldier to nurse such fancies upon the +eve of battle. I must confess that I, who am a novice in this work, am +as restless and nervous as a woman; but you have been seasoned by a +Mexican campaign, and I came to you expressly to be laughed into +fortitude again." + +"You must go on till you meet one more lighthearted than myself," +answered the other, with a sigh. "Ah! Harold, I have none of the old +elasticity about me to-night. I would I were back under my father's +roof, never to hear the roll of the battle-drum again. This is a cruel +war, Harold." + +"A just one." + +"Yes, but cruel. Have you any that you love over yonder, Harold? Any +that are dear to you, and that you must strike at on the morrow?" + +"Yes, Harry, that is it. It is, as you say, a cruel war." + +"I have a brother there," continued his companion; and he looked sadly +into the gloom, as if he yearned through the darkness and distance to +catch a glimpse of the well-known form. "A brother that, when I last saw +him, was a little rosy-cheeked boy, and used to ride upon my knee. He +is scarce more than a boy now, and yet he will shoulder his musket +to-morrow, and stand in the ranks perhaps to be cut down by the hand +that has caressed him. He was our mother's darling, and it is a mercy +that she is not living to see us armed against each other." + +"It is a painful thought," said Harold, "and one that you should dismiss +from contemplation. The chances are thousands to one that you will never +meet in battle." + +"I trust the first bullet that will be fired may reach my heart, rather +than that we should. But who can tell? I have a strange, gloomy feeling +upon me; I would say a presentiment, if I were superstitious." + +"It is a natural feeling upon the eve of battle. Think no more of it. +Look how prettily the moon is creeping from under the edge of yonder +cloud. We shall have a bright day for the fight, I think." + +"Yes, that's a comfort. One fights all the better in the warm sunlight, +as if to show the bright heavens what bloodthirsty devils we can be upon +occasion. Hark!" + +It was the roll of the drum, startling the stillness of the night; and +presently, the brief, stern orders of the sergeants could be heard +calling the men into the ranks. There is a strange mingled feeling of +awe and excitement in this marshalling of men at night for a dangerous +expedition. The orders are given instinctively in a more subdued and +sterner tone, as if in unison with the solemnity of the hour. The tramp +of marching feet strikes with a more distinct and hollow sound upon the +ear. The dark masses seem to move more compactly, as if each soldier +drew nearer to his comrade for companionship. The very horses, although +alert and eager, seem to forego their prancing, and move with sober +tread. And when the word "forward!" rings along the dark column, and the +long and silent ranks bend and move on as with an electric impulse, +there is a thrill in every vein, and each heart contracts for an +instant, as if the black portals of a terrible destiny were open in the +van. + +A half hour of silent hurry and activity passed away, and at last the +whole army was in motion. It was now three o'clock; the moon shone down +upon the serried ranks, gleaming from bayonet and cannon, and +stretching long black shadows athwart the road. From time to time along +the column could be heard the ringing voice of some commander, as he +galloped to the van, cheering his men with some well-timed allusion, or +dispelling the surrounding gloom with a cheerful promise of victory. +Where the wood road branched from the Warrentown turnpike, Gen. +McDowell, standing in his open carriage, looked down upon the passing +columns, and raised his hat, when the excited soldiers cheered as they +hurried on. Here Hunter's column turned to the right, while the main +body moved straight on to the centre. Then all became more silent than +before, and the light jest passing from comrade to comrade was less +frequent, for each one felt that every step onward brought him nearer to +the foe. + +The eastern sky soon paled into a greyish light, and ruddy streaks +pushed out from the horizon. The air breathed fresher and purer than in +the darkness, and the bright sun, with an advance guard of thin, rosy +clouds, shot upward from the horizon in a blaze of splendor. It was the +Sabbath morn. + +The boom of a heavy gun is heard from the centre. Carlisle has opened +the ball. The day's work is begun. Another! The echoes spring from the +hillsides all around, like a thousand angry tongues that threaten death. +But on the right, no trace of an enemy is to be seen. Burnside's brigade +was in the van; they reached the ford at Sudley's Springs; a momentary +confusion ensues as the column prepares to cross. Soon the men are +pushing boldly through the shallow stream, but the temptation is too +great for their parched throats; they stoop to drink and to fill their +canteens from the cool wave. But as they look up they see a cloud of +dust rolling up from the plain beyond, and their thirst has passed +away--they know that the foe is there. + +An aid comes spurring down the bank, waving his hand and splashing into +the stream. + +"Forward, men! forward!" + +Hunter gallops to meet him, with his staff clattering at his horse's +heels. + +"Break the heads of regiments from the column and push on--push on!" + +The field officers dash along the ranks, and the men spring to their +work, as the word of command is echoed from mouth to mouth. + +Crossing the stream, their course extended for a mile through a thick +wood, but soon they came to the open country, with undulating fields, +rolling toward a little valley through which a brooklet ran. And beyond +that stream, among the trees and foliage which line its bank and extend +in wooded patches southward, the left wing of the enemy are in battle +order. + +From a clump of bushes directly in front, came a puff of white smoke +wreathed with flame; the whir of the hollow ball is heard, and it +ploughs the moist ground a few rods from our advance. + +Scarcely had the dull report reverberated, when, in quick succession, a +dozen jets of fire gleamed out, and the shells came plunging into the +ranks. Burnside's brigade was in advance and unsupported, but under the +iron hail the line was formed, and the cry "Forward!" was answered with +a cheer. A long grey line spread out upon the hillside, forming rapidly +from the outskirts of the little wood. It was the Southern infantry, +and soon along their line a deadly fire of musketry was opened. + +Meanwhile the heavy firing from the left and further on, announced that +the centre and extreme left were engaged. A detachment of regulars was +sent to Burnside's relief, and held the enemy in check till a portion of +Porter's and Heintzelman's division came up and pressed them back from +their position. + +The battle was fiercely raging in the centre, where the 69th had led the +van and were charging the murderous batteries with the bayonet. We must +leave their deeds to be traced by the historic pen, and confine our +narrative to the scene in which Harold bore a part. The nearest battery, +supported by Carolinians, had been silenced. The Mississippians had +wavered before successive charges, and an Alabama regiment, after four +times hurling back the serried ranks that dashed against them, had +fallen back, outflanked and terribly cut up. On the left was a +farm-house, situated on an elevated ridge a little back from the road. +Within, while the fiercest battle raged, was its solitary inmate, an +aged and bed-ridden lady, whose paralyzed and helpless form was +stretched upon the bed where for fourscore years she had slept the calm +sleep of a Christian. She had sent her attendants from the dwelling to +seek a place of safety, but would not herself consent to be removed, for +she heard the whisper of the angel of death, and chose to meet, him +there in the house of her childhood. For the possession of the hill on +which the building stood, the opposing hosts were hotly struggling. The +fury of the battle seemed to concentre there, and through the time-worn +walls the shot was plunging, splintering the planks and beams, and +shivering the stone foundation. Sherman's battery came thundering up the +hill upon its last desperate advance. Just as the foaming horses were +wheeled upon its summit, the van of Hampton's legion sprang up the +opposite side, and the crack of a hundred rifles simultaneously sounded. +Down fell the cannoneers beside their guns before those deadly missiles, +and the plunging horses were slaughtered in the traces, or, wounded to +the death, lashed out their iron hoofs among the maimed and writhing +soldiers and into the heaps of dead. The battery was captured, but held +only fop an instant, when two companies of Rhode Islanders, led on by +Harold Hare, charged madly up the hill. + +"Save the guns, boys!" he cried, as the gallant fellows bent their heads +low, and sprang up the ascent right in the face of the blazing rifles. + +"Fire low! stand firm! drive them back once again, my brave Virginians!" +shouted a young Southern officer, springing to the foremost rank. + +The mutual fire was delivered almost at the rifles' muzzles, and the +long sword-bayonets clashed together. Without yielding ground, for a few +terrible seconds they thrust and parried with the clanging steel, while +on either side the dead were stiffening beneath their feet, and the +wounded, with shrieks of agony, were clutching at their limbs. Harold +and the young Southron met; their swords clashed together once in the +smoke and dust, and but once, when each drew back and lowered his +weapon, while all around were striking. Then, amid that terrible +discord, their two left hands were pressed together for an instant, and +a low "God bless you!" came from the lips of both. + +"To the right, Beverly, keep you to the right!" said Harold, and he +himself, straight through the hostile ranks, sprang in an opposite +direction. + +When Harold's party had first charged up the hill, the young lieutenant +with whom he had conversed beside the watch-fire on the previous +evening, was at the head of his platoon, and as the two bodies met, he +sent the last shot from his revolver full in the faces of the foremost +rank. So close were they, that the victim of that shot, struck in the +centre of the forehead, tottered forward, and fell into his arms. There +was a cry of horror that pierced even above the shrieks of the wounded +and the yells of the fierce combatants. One glance at that fair, +youthful face sufficed;--it was his brother--dead in his arms, dead by a +brother's hand. The yellow hair yet curled above the temples, but the +rosy bloom upon the cheek was gone; already the ashen hue of death was +there. There was a small round hole just where the golden locks waved +from the edge of the brow, and from it there slowly welled a single +globule of black gore. It left the face undisfigured--pale, but tranquil +and undistorted as a sleeping child's--not even a clot of blood was +there to mar its beauty. The strong and manly soldier knelt upon the +dust, and holding the dead boy with both arms clasped about his waist, +bent his head low down upon the lifeless bosom, and gasped with an agony +more terrible than that which the death-wound gives. + +"Charley! Oh God! Charley! Charley!" was all that came from his white +lips, and he sat there like stone, with the corpse in his arms, still +murmuring "Charley!" unconscious that blades were flashing and bullets +whistling around him. The blood streamed from his wounds, the bayonets +were gleaming round, and once a random shot ploughed into his thigh and +shivered the bone. He only bent a little lower and his voice was +fainter; but still he murmured "Charley! Oh God! Charley," and never +unfolded his arms from its embrace. And there, when the battle was over, +the Southrons found him, dead--with his dead brother in his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +At the door-way of the building on the hill, where the aged invalid was +yielding her last breath amid the roar of battle, a wounded officer sat +among the dying and the dead, while the conflict swept a little away +from that quarter of the field. The blood was streaming from the +shattered bosom, and feebly he strove to staunch it with his silken +scarf. He had dragged himself through gore and dust until he reached +that spot, and now, rising again with a convulsive effort, he leaned his +red hands against the wall, and entered over the fragments of the door, +which had been shivered by a shell. With tottering steps he passed along +the hall and up the little stairway, as one who had been familiar with +the place. Before the door of the aged lady's chamber he paused a moment +and listened; all was still there, although the terrible tumult of the +battle was sounding all around. He entered; he advanced to the +bed-side; the dying woman was murmuring a prayer. A random shot had torn +the shrivelled flesh upon her bosom and the white counterpane was +stained with blood. She did not see him--her thoughts were away from +earth, she was already seeking communion with the spirits of the blest. +The soldier knelt by that strange death-bed and leaned his pale brow +upon the pillow. + +"Mother!" + +How strangely the word sounded amid the shouts of combatants and the din +of war. It was like a good angel's voice drowning the discords of hell. + +"Mother!" + +She heard not the cannon's roar, but that one word, scarce louder than +the murmur of a dreaming infant, reached her ear. The palsied head was +turned upon the pillow and the light of life returned to her glazing +eyes. + +"Who speaks?" she gasped, while her thin hands were tremulously clasped +together with emotion. + +"'Tis I, mother. Philip, your son." + +"Philip, my son!" and the nerveless form, that had scarce moved for +years, was raised upon the bed by the last yearning effort of a mother's +love. + +"Is it you, Philip, is it you, indeed? I can scarce see your form, but +surely I have heard the voice of my boy;--my long absent boy. Oh! +Philip! why have I not heard it oftener to comfort my old age?" + +"I am dying, mother. I have been a bad son and a guilty man. But I am +dying, mother. Oh! I am punished for my sin! The avenging bullet struck +me down at the gate of the home I had deserted--the home I have made +desolate to you. Mother, I have crawled here to die." + +"To die! O God! your hand is cold--or is it but the chill of death upon +my own? Oh! I had thought to have said farewell to earth forever, but +yet let me linger but a little while, O Lord! if but to bless my son." +She sank exhausted upon the pillow, but yet clasped the gory fingers of +the dying man. + +"Philip, are you there? Let me hear your voice. I hear strange murmurs +afar off; but not the voice of my son. Are you there, Philip, are you +there?" + +Philip Searle was crouching lower and lower by the bed-side, and his +forehead, upon which the dews of death were starting, lay languidly +beside the thin, white locks that rested on the pillow. + +"Look, mother!" he said, raising his head and glaring into the corner of +the room. "Do you see that form in white?--there--she with the pale +cheeks and golden hair! I saw her once before to-day, when she lay +stretched upon the bed, with a lily in her white fingers. And once again +I saw her in that last desperate charge, when the bullet struck my side. +And now she is there again, pale, motionless, but smiling. Does she +smile in mockery or forgiveness? I could rather bear a frown than that +terrible--that frozen smile. O God! she is coming to me, mother, she is +coming to me--she will lay her cold hand upon me. No--it is not she! it +is Moll--look, mother, it is Moll, all blackened with smoke and seared +with living fire. O God! how terrible! But, mother, I did not do that. +When I saw the flames afar off, I shuddered, for I knew how it must be. +But I did not do it, Moll, by my lost soul, I did not!" He started to +his feet with a convulsive effort. The hot blood spurted from his wound +with the exertion and spattered upon the face and breast of his +mother--but she felt it not, for she was dead. The last glimmering ray +of reason seemed to drive away the phantoms. He turned toward those +sharp and withered features, he saw the fallen jaw and lustreless glazed +eye. A shudder shook his frame at every point, and with a groan of pain +and terror, he fell forward upon the corpse--a corpse himself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +The Federal troops, with successive charges, had now pushed the enemy +from their first position, and the torn battalions were still being +hurled against the batteries that swept their ranks. The excellent +generalship of the Confederate leaders availed itself of the valor and +impetuosity of their assailants to lure them, by consecutive advance and +backward movement, into the deadly range of their well planted guns. It +was then that, far to the right, a heavy column could be seen moving +rapidly in the rear of the contending hosts. Was it a part of Hunter's +division that had turned the enemy's rear? Such was the thought at +first, and with the delusion triumphant cheers rang from the parched +throats of the weary Federals. They were soon to be undeceived. The +stars and bars flaunted amid those advancing ranks, and the constant +yells of the Confederates proclaimed the truth. Johnston was pouring his +fresh troops upon the battle-field. The field was lost, but still was +struggled for in the face of hope. It was now late in the afternoon, and +the soldiers, exhausted with their desperate exertions, fought on, +doggedly, but without that fiery spirit which earlier in the day had +urged them to the cannon's mouth. There was a lull in the storm of +carnage, the brief pause that precedes the last terrific fury of the +tempest. The Confederates were concentrating their energies for a +decisive effort. It came. From the woods that skirted the left centre of +their position, a squadron of horsemen came thundering down upon our +columns. Right down upon Carlisle's battery they rode, slashing the +cannoneers and capturing the guns. Then followed their rushing ranks of +infantry, and full upon our flank swooped down another troop of cavalry, +dashing into the road where the baggage-train had been incautiously +advanced. Our tired and broken regiments were scattered to the right and +left. In vain a few devoted officers spurred among them, and called on +them to rally; they broke from the ranks in every quarter of the field, +and rushed madly up the hillsides and into the shelter of the trees. +The magnificent army that had hailed the rising sun with hopes of +victory was soon pouring along the road in inextricable confusion and +disorderly retreat. Foot soldier and horseman, field-piece and wagon, +caisson and ambulance, teamster and cannoneer, all were mingled together +and rushing backward from the field they had half won, with their backs +to the pursuing foe. That rout has been traced, to our shame, in +history; the pen of the novelist shuns the disgraceful theme. + +Harold, although faint with loss of blood, which oozed from a +flesh-wound in his shoulder, was among the gallant few who strove to +stem the ebbing current; struck at last by a spent ball in the temple, +he fell senseless to the ground. He would have been trampled upon and +crushed by the retreating column, had not a friendly hand dragged him +from the road to a little mound over which spread the branches of an +oak. Here he was found an hour afterward by a body of Confederate troops +and lifted into an ambulance with others wounded and bleeding like +himself. + +While the vehicle, with its melancholy freight, was being slowly +trailed over the scene of the late battle, Harold partially recovered +his benumbed senses. He lay there as in a dream, striving to recall +himself to consciousness of his position. He felt the dull throbbing +pain upon his brow and the stinging sensation in his shoulder, and knew +that he was wounded, but whether dangerously or not he could not judge. +He could feel the trickling of blood from the bosom of a wounded comrade +at his side, and could hear the groans of another whose thigh was +shattered by the fragment of a shell; but the situation brought no +feeling of repugnance, for he was yet half stunned and lay as in a +lethargy, wishing only to drain one draught of water and then to sleep. +The monotonous rumbling of the ambulance wheels sounded distinctly upon +his ear, and he could listen, with a kind of objectless curiosity, to +the casual conversation of the driver, as he exchanged words here and +there with others, who were returning upon the same dismal errand from +the scene of carnage. The shadows of night spread around him, covering +the field of battle like a pall flung in charity by nature over the +corpses of the slain. Then his bewildered fancies darkened with the +surrounding gloom, and he thought that he was coffined and in a hearse, +being dragged to the graveyard to be buried. He put forth his hand to +push the coffin lid, but it fell again with weakness, and when his +fingers came in contact with the splintered bone that protruded from his +neighbor's thigh, and he felt the warm gushing of the blood that welled +with each throb of the hastily bound artery, he puzzled his dreamy +thoughts to know what it might mean. At last all became a blank upon his +brain, and he relapsed once more into unconsciousness. + +And so, from dreamy wakefulness to total oblivion he passed to and fro, +without an interval to part the real from the unreal. He was conscious +of being lifted into the arms of men, and being borne along carefully by +strong arms. Whither? It seemed to his dull senses that they were +bearing him into a sepulchre, but he was not terrified, but careless and +resigned; or if he thought of it at all, it was to rejoice that when +laid there, he should be undisturbed. Presently a vague fancy passed +athwart his mind, that perhaps the crawling worms would annoy him, and +he felt uneasy, but yet not afraid. Afterward, there was a sensation of +quiet and relief, and his brain, for a space, was in repose. Then a +bright form bent over him, and he thought it was an angel. He could feel +a soft hand brushing the dampness from his brow, and fingers, whose +light touch soothed him, parting his clotted hair. The features grew +more distinct, and it pleased him to look upon them, although he strove +in vain to fix them in his memory, until a tear-drop fell upon his +cheek, and recalled his wandering senses; then he knew that Oriana was +bending over him and weeping. + +He was in the cottage where Beverly had last parted from his sister; not +in the same room, for they feared to place him there, where Miranda was +lying in a shroud, with a coffin by her bed-side, lest the sad spectacle +should disturb him when he woke. But he lay upon a comfortable bed in +another room, and Beverly and Oriana stood beside, while the surgeon +dressed his wounds. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +No need to say that Harold was well cared for by his two friendly foes. +Beverly had given his personal parole for his safe keeping, and he was +therefore free from all surveillance or annoyance on that score. His +wounds were not serious, although the contusion on the temple, which, +however, had left the skull uninjured, occasioned some uneasiness at +first. But the third day he was able to leave his bed, and with his arm +in a sling, sat comfortably in an easy-chair, and conversed freely with +his two excellent nurses. + +"Did Beverly tell you of Arthur's imprisonment?" he asked of Oriana, +breaking a pause in the general conversation. + +"Yes," she answered, looking down, with a scarcely perceptible blush +upon her cheek. "Poor Arthur! Yours is a cruel government, Harold, that +would make traitors of such men. His noble heart would not harbor a +dangerous thought, much less a traitorous design." + +"I think with you," said Harold. "There is some strange mistake, which +we must fathom. I received his letter only the day preceding the battle. +Had there been no immediate prospect of an engagement, I would have +asked a furlough, and have answered it in person. I have small reason to +regret my own imprisonment," he added, "my jailers are so kind; yet I do +regret it for his sake." + +"You know that we are powerless to help him," said Beverly, "or even to +shorten your captivity, since your government will not exchange with us. +However, you must write, both to Arthur and to Mr. Lincoln, and I will +use my best interest with the general to have your letters sent on with +a flag." + +"I know that you will do all in your power, and I trust that my +representations may avail with the government, for I judge from Arthur's +letter that he is not well, although he makes no complaint. He is but +delicate at the best, and what with the effects of his late injuries, I +fear that the restraint of a prison may go ill with him." + +"How unnatural is this strife that makes us sorrow for our foes no less +than for our friends?" said Oriana. "I seem to be living in a strange +clime, and in an age that has passed away. And how long can friendship +endure this fiery ordeal? How many scenes of carnage like this last +terrible one can afflict the land, without wiping away all trace of +brotherhood, and leaving in the void the seed of deadly hate?" + +"If this repulse," said Beverly, "which your arms have suffered so early +in the contest, will awaken the North to a sense of the utter futility +of their design of subjugation, the blood that flowed at Manassas will +not have been shed in vain." + +"No, not in vain," replied Harold, "but its fruits will be other than +you anticipate. The North will be awakened, but only to gird up its +loins and put forth its giant strength. The shame of that one defeat +will be worth to us hereafter a hundred victories. The North has +been smitten in its sleep; it will arouse from its lethargy like a lion +awakening under the smart of the hunter's spear. Beverly, base no vain +hopes upon the triumph of the hour; it seals your doom, for it serves +but to throw into the scale against you the aroused energies that till +now have been withheld." + +"You count upon your resources, Harold, like a purse-proud millionaire, +who boasts his bursting coffers. We depend rather upon our determined +hearts and resolute right hands. Upon our power to endure, greater than +yours to inflict, reverse. Upon our united people, and the spirit that +animates them, which can never be subdued. The naked Britons could +defend their native soil against Caesar's legions, the veterans of a +hundred fights. Shall we do less, who have already tasted the fruits of +liberty so dearly earned? Harold, your people have assumed an impossible +task, and you may as well go cast your treasures into the sea as +squander them in arms to smite your kith and kin. We are Americans, like +yourselves; and when you confess that _you_ can be conquered by invading +armies, then dream of conquering us." + +"And we will startle you from your dream with the crack of our Southern +rifles," added Oriana, somewhat maliciously, while Harold smiled at her +enthusiasm. + +"There is a great deal of romance in both your natures," he replied. +"But it is not so good as powder for a fighting medium. The spirit you +boast of will not support you long without the aid of good round +dollars." + +"Thank heaven we have less faith in their efficacy than you Northern +gold-worshippers," observed Oriana, with playful sarcasm. "While our +soldiers have good round corn-cakes, they will ask for no richer metals +than lead and steel. Have you never heard of the regiment of +Mississippians, who, having received their pay in government +certificates, to a man tore up the documents as they took up the line of +march, saying 'we do not fight for money?'" + +Harold smiled, thinking perhaps that nothing better could have been done +with the currency in question. + +"I think," said Beverly, "you are far out of the way in your estimate of +our resources. The South is strictly an agricultural country, and as +such, best able to support itself under the exhaustion consequent upon a +lengthened warfare, especially as it will remain in the attitude of +resistance to invasion. From the bosom of its prolific soil it can draw +its natural nourishment and retain its vigor throughout any period of +isolation, while you are draining your resources for the means of +providing an active aggressive warfare. The rallying of our white +population to the battle field will not interrupt the course of +agricultural pursuit, while every enlistment in the North will take one +man away from the tillage of the land or from some industrial +avocation." + +"Not so," replied Harold. "Our armies for the most part will be +recruited from the surplus population, and abundant hands will remain +behind for the purposes of industry." + +"At first, perhaps. But not after a few more such fields as were fought +on Sunday last. To carry out even a show of your project of subjugation, +you must keep a million of men in the field from year to year. Your +manufacturing interests will be paralyzed, your best customers shut out. +You will be spending enormously and producing little beyond the +necessities of consumption. We, on the contrary, will be producing as +usual, and spending little more than before." + +"Can your armies be fed, clothed, and equipped without expense?" + +"No. But all our means will be applied to military uses, and our +operations will be necessarily much less expensive than yours. In other +matters, we will forget our habits of extravagance. We will become, by +the law of necessity, economists in place of spendthrifts. We will +gather in rich harvests, but will stint ourselves to the bare +necessities of life, that our troops may be fed and clothed. The money +that our wealthy planters have been in the habit of spending yearly in +Northern cities and watering places, will be circulated at home. Some +fifty millions of Southern dollars, heretofore annually wasted in +fashionable dissipation, will thus be kept in our own pockets and out of +yours. The spendthrift sons of our planters, and their yet more +extravagant daughters, will be found studying economy in the rude school +of the soldier, and plying the needle to supply the soldiers' wants, in +place of drawing upon the paternal estates for frivolous enjoyments. Our +spending population will be on the battle-field, and the laborer will +remain in the cotton and corn-field. There will be suffering and +privation, it is true, but rest assured, Harold, we will bear it all +without a murmur, as our fathers did in the days of '76. And we will +trust to the good old soil we are defending to give us our daily bread." + +"Or if it should not," said Oriana, "we can at least claim from it, each +one, a grave, over which the foot of the invader may trample, but not +over our living bodies." + +"I have no power to convince you of your error," answered Harold. "Let +us speak of it no more, since it is destined that the sword must decide +between us. Beverly, you promised that I should go visit my wounded +comrades, who have not yet been removed. Shall we go now? I think it +would do me good to breathe the air." + +They prepared for the charitable errand, and Oriana went with them, with +a little basket of delicacies for the suffering prisoners. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +It was a fair morning in August, the twentieth day after the eventful +21st of July. Beverly was busy with his military duties, and Harold, who +had already fully recovered from his wounds, was enjoying, in company +with Oriana, a pleasant canter over the neighboring country. They came +to where the rolling meadow subsided into a level plain of considerable +extent on either side of the road. At its verge a thick forest formed a +dark background, beyond which the peering summits of green hills showed +that the landscape was rugged and uneven. Oriana slackened her pace, and +pointed out over the broad expanse of level country. + +"You see this plain that stretches to our right and left?" + +"Of course I do," replied Harold. + +"Yes; but I want you to mark it well," she continued, with a significant +glance; "and also that stretch of woodland yonder, beyond which, you +see, the country rises again." + +"Yes, a wild country, I should judge, like that to the left, where we +fought your batteries a month ago." + +"It is, indeed, a wild country as you say. There are ravines there, and +deep glens, fringed with almost impenetrable shrubbery, and deep down in +these recesses flows many a winding water-course, lined and overarched +with twisted foliage. Are you skillful at threading a woodland +labyrinth?" + +"Yes; my surveying expeditions have schooled me pretty well. Why do you +ask? Do you want me to guide you through the wilderness, in search of a +hermit's cave." + +"Perhaps; women have all manner of caprices, you know. But I want you to +pay attention to those landmarks. Over yonder, there are some nooks that +would do well to hide a runaway. I have explored some of them myself, +for I passed some months here formerly, before the war. Poor Miranda's +family resided once in the little cottage where we are stopping now. +That is why I came from Richmond to spend a few days and be with +Beverly. I little thought that my coming would bring me to Miranda's +death-bed. Look there, now: you have a better view of where the forest +ascends into the hilly ground." + +"Why are you so topographical to-day? One would think you were tempting +me to run away," said Harold, smiling, as he followed her pointing +finger with his eyes. + +"No; I know you would not do that, because Beverly, you know, has +pledged himself for your safe-keeping." + +"Very true; and I am therefore a closer prisoner than if I were loaded +down with chains. When do you return to Richmond?" + +"I shall return on the day after to-morrow. Beverly has been charged +with an important service, and will be absent for several weeks. But he +can procure your parole, if you wish, and you can come to the old +manor-house again." + +"I think I shall not accept parole," replied Harold, thoughtfully. "I +must escape, if possible, for Arthur's sake. Beverly, of course, will +release himself from all obligations about me, before he goes?" + +"Yes, to-morrow; but you will be strictly guarded, unless you give +parole. See here, I have a little present for you; it is not very +pretty, but it is useful." + +She handed him a small pocket-compass, set in a brass case. + +"You can have this too," she added, drawing a small but strong and sharp +poignard from her bosom. "But you must promise me never to use it except +to save your life?" + +"I will promise that cheerfully," said Harold, as he received the +precious gifts. + +"To-morrow we will ride out again. We will have the same horses that +bear us so bravely now. Do you note how strong and well-bred is the +noble animal you ride?" + +"Yes," said Harold, patting the glorious arch of his steed's neck. "He's +a fine fellow, and fleet, I warrant." + +"Fleet as the winds. There are few in this neighborhood that can match +him. Let us go home now. You need not tell Beverly that I have given you +presents. And be ready to ride to-morrow at four o'clock precisely." + +He understood her thoroughly, and they cantered homeward, conversing +upon indifferent subjects and reverting no further to their previous +somewhat enigmatical theme. + +On the following afternoon, at four o'clock precisely, the horses were +at the door, and five minutes afterward a mounted officer, followed by +two troopers, galloped up the lane and drew rein at the gateway. + +Harold was arranging the girths of Oriana's saddle, and she herself was +standing in her riding-habit beside the porch. The officer, dismounting, +approached her and raised his cap in respectful salute. He was young and +well-looking, evidently one accustomed to polite society. + +"Good afternoon, Captain Haralson," said Oriana, with her most gracious +smile. "I am very glad to see you, although, as you bring your military +escort, I presume you come to see Beverly upon business, and not for the +friendly visit you promised me. But Beverly is not here." + +"I left him at the camp on duty, Miss Weems," replied the captain. "It +is my misfortune that my own duties have been too strict of late to +permit me the pleasure of my contemplated visit." + +"I must bide my time, captain. Let me introduce my friend. Captain Hare, +our prisoner, Mr. Haralson; but I know you will help me to make him +forget it, when I tell you that he was my brother's schoolmate and is +our old and valued friend." + +The young officer took Harold frankly by the hand, but he looked grave +and somewhat disconcerted as he answered: + +"Captain Hare, as a soldier, will forgive me that my duty compels me to +play a most ungracious part upon our first acquaintance. I have orders +to return with him to headquarters, where I trust his acceptance of +parole will enable me to avail myself of your introduction to show him +what courtesy our camp life admits, in atonement for the execution of my +present unpleasant devoir." + +"I shall esteem your acquaintance the more highly," answered Harold, +"that you know so well to blend your soldiership with kindness. I am +entirely at your disposition, sir, having only to apologize to Miss +Weems for the deprivation of her contemplated ride." + +"Oh, no, we must not lose our ride," said Oriana. "It is perhaps the +last we shall enjoy together, and such a lovely afternoon. I am sure +that Captain Haralson is too gallant to interrupt our excursion." + +She turned to him with an arch smile, but he looked serious as he +replied: + +"Alas! Miss Weems, our gallantry receives some rude rebuffs in the harsh +school of the soldier. It grieves me to mar your harmless recreation, +but even that mortification I must endure when it comes in the strict +line of my duty." + +"But your duty does not forbid you to take a canter with us this +charming afternoon. Now put away that military sternness, which does not +become you at all, and help me to mount my pretty Nelly, who is getting +impatient to be off. And so am I. Come, you will get into camp in due +season, for we will go only as far as the Run, and canter all the way." + +She took his arm, and he assisted her to the saddle, won into +acquiescence by her graceful obstinacy, and, in fact, seeing but little +harm the tufted hills rolled into one another like the waves of a +swelling sea, their crests tipped with the slant rays of the descending +sun, and their graceful slopes alternating among purple shadows and +gleams of floating light. + +"It is indeed so beautiful," answered Harold, "that I should deem you +might be content to live there as of old, without inviting the terrible +companionship of Mars." + +"We do not invite it," said the young captain. "Leave us in peaceful +possession of our own, and no war cries shall echo among those hills. If +Mars has driven his chariot into our homes, he comes at your bidding, an +unwelcome intruder, to be scourged back again." + +"At our bidding! No. The first gun that was fired at Sumter summoned +him, and if he should leave his foot-prints deep in your soil, you have +well earned the penalty." + +"It will cost you, to inflict it, many such another day's work as that +at Manassas a month ago." + +The taunt was spoken hastily, and the young Southron colored as if +ashamed of his discourtesy, and added: + +"Forgive me my ungracious speech. It was my first field, sir, and I am +wont to speak of it too boastingly. I shall become more modest, I hope, +when I shall have a better right to be a boaster." + +"Oh," replied Harold, "I admit the shame of our discomfiture, and take +it as a good lesson to our negligence and want of purpose. But all that +has passed away. One good whipping has awakened us to an understanding +of the work we have in hand. Henceforth we will apply ourselves to the +task in earnest." + +"You think, then, that your government will prosecute the war more +vigorously than before?" + +"Undoubtedly. You have heard but the prelude of a gale that shall sweep +every vestige of treason from the land." + +"Let it blow on," said the Southron, proudly. "There will be +counter-blasts to meet it. You cannot raise a tempest that will make us +bow our heads." + +"Do you not think," interrupted Oriana, "that a large proportion of your +Northern population are ready at least to listen to terms of +separation?" + +"No," replied Harold, firmly. "Or if there be any who entertain such +thoughts, we will make them outcasts among us, and the finger of scorn +will be pointed at them as recreant to their holiest duty." + +"That is hardly fair," said Oriana. "Why should you scorn or maltreat +those who honestly believe that the doctrine in support of which so many +are ready to stake their lives and their fortunes, may be worthy of +consideration? Do you believe us all mad and wicked people in the +South--people without hearts, and without brains, incapable of forming +an opinion that is worth an argument? If there are some among you who +think we are acting for the best, and Heaven knows we are acting with +sincerity, you should give them at least a hearing, for the sake of +liberty of conscience. Remember, there are millions of us united in +sentiment in the South, and millions, perhaps, abroad who think with us. +How can you decide by your mere impulses where the right lies?" + +"We decide by the promptings of our loyal hearts, and by our reason, +which tells us that secession is treason, and that treason must be +crushed." + +"Heart and brain have been mistaken ere now," returned Oriana. "But if +you are a type of your countrymen, I see that hard blows alone will +teach you that God has given us the right to think for ourselves." + +"Do you believe, then," asked Haralson, "that there can be no peace +between us until one side or the other shall be exhausted and subdued?" + +"Not so," replied Harold. "I think that when we have retrieved the +disgrace of Bull Run and given you in addition, some wholesome +chastisement, your better judgment will return to you, and you will +accept forgiveness at our hands and return to your allegiance." + +"You are mistaken," said the Southron. "Even were we ready to accept +your terms, you would not be ready to grant them. Should the North +succeed in striking some heavy blow at the South, I will tell you what +will happen; your abolitionists will seize the occasion of the peoples' +exultation to push their doctrine to a consummation. Whenever you shall +hear the tocsin of victory sounding in the North, then listen for the +echoing cry of emancipation--for you will hear it. You will see it in +every column of your daily prints; you will hear your statesmen urging +it in your legislative halls, and your cabinet ministers making it their +theme. And, most dangerous of all, you will hear your generals and +colonels, demagogues, at heart, and soldiers only of occasion, preaching +it to their battalions, and making converts of their subordinates by the +mere influences of their rank and calling. And when your military +chieftains harangue their soldiers upon political themes, think not of +our treason as you call it, but look well to the political freedom that +is still your own. With five hundred thousand armed puppets, moving at +the will of a clique of ambitious epauletted politicians and +experimentalists, you may live to witness, whether we be subdued or not, +a _coup d'etat_ for which there is a precedent not far back in the +annals of republics." + +"Have you already learned to contemplate the danger that you are +incurring? Do you at last fear the monster that you have nursed and +strengthened in your midst? Well, if your slaves should rise against +you, surely you cannot blame us for the evil of your own creation." + +"It is the hope of your abolitionists, not our fear, that I am +rehearsing. Should your armies obtain a foothold on our soil, we know +that you will put knives and guns into the hands of our slaves, and +incite them to emulate the deeds of their race in San Domingo. You will +parcel out our lands and wealth to your victorious soldiery, not so much +as a reward for their past services, but to seal the bond between them +and the government that will seek to rule by their bayonets. You see, we +know the peril and are prepared to meet it. Should you conquer us, at +the same time you would conquer the liberties of the Northern citizen. +You will be at the mercy of the successful general whose triumph may +make him the idol of the armed millions that alone can accomplish our +subjugation. In the South, butchery and rapine by hordes of desperate +negroes--in the North anarchy and political intrigue, to be merged into +dictatorship and the absolutism of military power. Such would be the +results of your triumph and our defeat." + +"Those are the visions of a heated brain," said Harold. "I must confess +that your fighting is better than your logic. There is no danger to our +country that the loyalty of its people cannot overcome--as it will your +rebellion." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +They had now approached the edge of the plain which Oriana had pointed +out on the preceding day. The sun, which had been tinging the western +sky with gorgeous hues, was peering from among masses of purple and +golden clouds, within an hour's space of the horizon. Captain Haralson, +interested and excited by his disputation, had been riding leisurely +along by the side of his prisoner, taking but little note of the route +or of the lapse of time. + +"Cease your unprofitable argument," cried Oriana, "and let us have a +race over this beautiful plain. Look! 'tis as smooth as a race-course, +and I will lay you a wager, Captain Haralson, that my Nelly will lead +you to yonder clump, by a neck." + +She touched her horse lightly with the whip, and turned from the road +into the meadows. + +"It is late, Miss Weems," said the Southron, "and I must report at +headquarters before sundown. Besides, I am badly mounted, and it would +be but a sorry victory to distance me. I pray you, let us return." + +"Nonsense! Nelly is not breathed. I must have one fair run over this +field; and, gentlemen, I challenge you both to outstrip Nelly if you +can." + +With a merry shout, she struck the fleet mare smartly on the flank, and +the spirited animal, more at the sound of her voice than aroused by the +whip-lash, stretched forward her neck and sprang over the tufted level. +Harold waved his hand, as if in invitation, to his companion, and was +soon urging his powerful horse in the same direction. Haralson shouted +to them to stop, but they only turned their heads and beckoned to him +gaily, and plunging the spurs into the strong but heavy-hoofed charger +that he rode, he followed them as best he could. He kept close in their +rear very well at first, but he soon observed that he was losing +distance, and that the two swift steeds in front, that had been held in +check a little at the start, were now skimming the smooth meadow at a +tremendous pace. + +"Halt!" he cried, at the top of his lungs; but either they heard it not +or heeded it not, for they still swept on, bending low forward in the +saddle, almost side by side. + +A vague suspicion crossed his mind. + +"Halt, there!" + +Oriana glanced over her shoulder, and could see a sunray gleaming from +something that he held in his right hand. He had drawn a pistol from his +holster. She slackened her pace a little, and allowing Harold to take +the lead, rode on in the line between him and the pursuer. Harold turned +in his saddle. She could hear the tones of his voice rushing past her on +the wind. + +"Come no further with me, lest suspicion attach to yourself. The good +horse will bear me beyond pursuit. Remember, it is for Arthur's sake I +have consented you should make this sacrifice. God bless you! and +farewell!" + +A pistol-shot resounded in the air. Oriana knew it was fired but to +intimidate--the distance was too great to give the leaden messenger a +deadlier errand. Yet she drew rein, and waited, breathless with +excitement and swift motion, till Haralson came up. He turned one +reproachful glance upon her as he passed, and spurred on in pursuit. +Harold turned once again, to assure himself that she was unhurt, then +waved his hand, and urging his swift steed to the utmost, sped on toward +the forest which was now close at hand. The two troopers soon came +galloping up to where Oriana still sat motionless upon her saddle, +watching the race with strained eyes and heaving bosom. + +"Your prisoner has escaped," she said; "spur on in pursuit." + +She knew that it was of no avail, for Harold had already disappeared +among the mazes of the wood, and the sun was just dipping below the +horizon. Darkness would soon shroud the fugitive in its friendly mantle. +She turned Nelly's head homeward, and cantered silently away in the +gathering twilight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + +When Captain Haralson and the two troopers reached the verge of the +forest, they could trace for a short distance the hoof-prints of +Harold's horse, and followed them eagerly among the labyrinthine paths +which the fugitive had made through the tangled shrubbery and among the +briery thickets. But soon the gloom of night closed in upon them in the +depth of the silent wood, and they were left without a sign by which to +direct the pursuit. It was near midnight when they reached the further +edge of the forest, and there, throwing fantastic gleams of red light +among the shadows of the tall trees, they caught sight of what seemed to +be the glimmer of a watchfire. Soon after, the growl of a hound was +heard, followed by a deep-mouthed bay, and approaching cautiously, they +were hailed by the watchful sentinel. It was a Confederate picket, +posted on the outskirt of the forest, and Haralson, making himself +known, rode up to where the party, awakened by their approach, had +roused themselves from their blankets, and were standing with ready +rifles beside the blazing fagots. + +Haralson made known his errand to the officer in command, and the +sentries were questioned, but all declared that nothing had disturbed +their watch; if the fugitive had passed their line, he had succeeded in +eluding their vigilance. + +"I must send one of my men back to camp to report the escape," said +Haralson, "and will ask you to spare me a couple of your fellows to help +me hunt the Yankee down. Confound him, I deserve to lose my epaulettes +for my folly, but I'll follow him to the Potomac, rather than return to +headquarters without him." + +"Who was it?" asked the officer; "was he of rank?" + +"A captain, Captain Hare, well named for his fleetness; but he was +mounted superbly, and I suspect the whole thing was cut and dried." + +"Hare?" cried a hoarse voice; and the speaker, a tall, lank man, who had +been stretched by the fire, with the head of a large, gaunt bloodhound +in his lap, rose suddenly and stepped forward. + +"Harold Hare, by G--d!" he exclaimed; "I know the fellow. Captain, I'm +with you on this hunt, and Bully there, too, who is worth the pair of +us. Hey, Bully?" + +The dog stretched himself lazily, and lifted his heavy lip with a grin +above the formidable fangs that glistened in the gleam of the watchfire. + +"You may go," said his officer, "but I can't spare another. You three, +with the dog, will be enough. Rawbon's as good a man as you can get, +captain. Set a thief to catch a thief, and a Yankee to outwit a Yankee. +You'd better start at once, unless you need rest or refreshment." + +"Nothing," replied Haralson. "Let your man put something into his +haversack. Good night, lieutenant. Come along, boys, and keep your eyes +peeled, for these Yankees are slippery eels, you know." + +Seth Rawbon had already bridled his horse that was grazing hard by, and +the party, with the hound close at his master's side, rode forth upon +their search. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +Harold had perceived the watchfire an hour earlier than his pursuers, +having obtained thus much the advantage of them by the fleetness of his +steed. He moved well off to the right, riding slowly and cautiously, +until another faint glimmer in that direction gave him to understand +that he was about equi-distant between two pickets of the enemy. He +dismounted at the edge of the forest, and securing his steed to the +branch of a tree, crept forward a few paces beyond the shelter of the +wood, and looked about earnestly in the darkness. Nothing could be seen +but the long, straggling line of the forest losing itself in the gloom, +and the black outlines, of the hills before him; but his quick ear +detected the sound of coming hoof and the ringing of steel scabbards. A +patrol was approaching, and fearful that his horse, conscious of the +neighborhood of his kind, might betray his presence with a sign of +recognition, he hurried back, and standing beside the animal, caressed +his glossy neck and won his attention with the low murmurs of his voice. +The good steed remained silent, only pricking up his ears and peering +through the branches as the patrol went clattering by. Harold waited +till the trampling of hoofs died away in the distance, and judging, from +their riding on without a challenge or a pause, that there was no sentry +within hail, he mounted and rode boldly out into the open country. The +stars were mostly obscured by heavy clouds, but here and there was a +patch of clear blue sky, and his eye, practised with many a surveying +night-tramp, discovered at last a twinkling guide by which to shape his +path in a northerly direction. It was a wild, rough country over which +he passed. With slow and careful steps, his sagacious steed moved on, +obedient to the rein, at one time topping the crest of a rugged hill, +and then winding at a snail's pace down the steep declivity, or +following the tortuous course of the streamlet through deep ravines, +whose jagged and bush-clad sides frowned down upon them on either side, +deepening the gloom of night. + +So all through the long hours of darkness, Harold toiled on his lonely +way, startled at times by the shriek of the night bird, and listening +intently to catch the sign of danger. At last the dawn, welcome although +it enhanced the chances of detection, blushed faintly through the +clouded eastern sky, and Harold, through the mists of morning, could see +a fair and rolling landscape stretched before him. The sky was overcast, +and presently the heavy drops began to fall. Consulting the little +friendly compass which Oriana had given him, he pushed on briskly, +turning always to the right or left, as the smoke, circling from some +early housewife's kitchen, betrayed the dangerous neighborhood of a +human habitation. + +Crossing a rivulet, he dismounted, and filled a small leathern bottle +that he carried with him, his good steed and himself meanwhile +satisfying their thirst from the cool wave. His appetite, freshened by +exercise, caused him to remember a package which Oriana's forethought +had provided for him on the preceding afternoon. He drew it from, his +pocket, and while his steed clipped the tender herbage from the +streamlet's bank, he made an excellent breakfast of the corn bread and +bacon, and other substantial edibles, which his kind friend had +bountifully supplied. Man and horse thus refreshed, he remounted, and +rode forward at a gallant pace, the strong animal he bestrode seeming as +yet to show no signs of fatigue. + +The rain was now falling in torrents, a propitious circumstance, since +it lessened the probabilities of his encountering the neighboring +inhabitants, most of whom must have sought shelter from the pelting +storm. He occasionally came up with a trudging negro, sometimes a group +of three or four, who answered timidly whenever he accosted them, and +glanced at him askance, but yet gave the information he requested. Once, +indeed, he could discern a troop of cavalry plashing along at same +distance through the muddy road, but he screened himself in a cornfield, +and was unobserved. His watch had been injured in the battle, and he had +no means, except conjecture, of judging of the hour; but by the flagging +pace of his horse, and his own fatigue, he knew that he must have been +many hours in the saddle. Surely the Potomac must be at hand! Yet there +was no sign of it, and over interminable hill and dale, through +corn-fields, and over patches of woodland and meadow, the weary steed +was urged on, slipping and sliding in the saturated soil. What was that +sound which caused his horse to prick up his ears and quicken his pace +with the instinct of danger? He heard it himself distinctly. It was the +baying of a bloodhound. + +"They are on my track!" muttered Harold; "and unless the river is at +hand, I am lost. Forward, sir! forward, good fellow!" he shouted +cheerily to his horse, and the noble animal, snorting and tossing his +silken mane, answered with an effort, and broke into a gallop. + +Down one hill into a little valley they pushed on, and up the ascent of +another. They reached the crest, and then, thank Heaven! there was the +broad river, winding through the valley. Dull and leaden hued as it +looked, reflecting the clouded sky, he had never hailed it so joyfully +when sparkling with sunbeams as he did at the close of that weary day. +Yet the danger was not past; up and down the stream he gazed, and far to +the right he could distinguish a group of tents peering from among the +foliage of a grove, and marking the site of a Confederate battery. But +just in front of him was a cheering sight; an armed schooner swung +lazily at anchor in the channel, and the wet bunting that drooped +listlessly over her stern, revealed the stars and stripes. + +The full tones of the bloodhound's voice aroused him to the necessity of +action; he turned in the saddle and glanced over the route he had come. +On the crest of the hill beyond that on which he stood, the forms of +three horsemen were outlined against the greyish sky. They distinguished +him at the same moment, for he could hear their shouts of exultation, +borne to him on the humid air. + +It was yet a full mile to the river bank, and his horse was almost +broken down with fatigue. Dashing his armed heels against the throbbing +flanks of the jaded animal, he rushed down the hill in a straight line +for the water. The sun was already below the horizon, and darkness was +coming on apace. As he pushed on, the shouts of his pursuers rang louder +upon his ear at every rod; it was evident that they were fresh mounted, +while his own steed was laboring, with a last effort, over the rugged +ground, stumbling among stones, and groaning at intervals with the +severity of exertion. He could hear the trampling behind him, he could +catch the words of triumph that seemed to be shouted almost in his very +ear. A bullet whizzed by him, and then another, and with each report +there came a derisive cheer. But it was now quite dark, and that, with +the rapid motion, rendered him comparatively fearless of being struck. +He spurred on, straining his eyes to see what was before him, for it +seemed that the ground in front became suddenly and curiously lost in +the mist and gloom. Just then, simultaneously with the report of a +pistol, he felt his good steed quiver beneath him; a bullet had reached +his flank, and the poor animal fell upon his knees and rolled over in +the agony of death. + +It was well that he had fallen; Harold, thrown forward a few feet, +touched the earth upon the edge of the rocky bank that descended +precipitously a hundred feet or more to the river--a few steps further, +and horse and rider would have plunged over the verge of the bluff. + +Harold, though bruised by his fall, was not considerably hurt; without +hesitation, he commenced the hazardous descent, difficult by day, but +perilous and uncertain in the darkness. Clinging to each projecting rock +and feeling cautiously for a foothold among the slippery ledges, he had +accomplished half the distance and could already hear the light plashing +of the wave upon the boulders below. He heard a voice above, shouting: +"Look out for the bluff there, we must be near it!" + +The warning came too late. There was a cry of terror--the blended voice +of man and horse, startling the night and causing Harold to crouch with +instinctive horror close to the dripping rock. There was a rush of wind +and the bounding by of a dark whirling body, which rolled over and over, +tearing over the sharp angles of the cliff, and scattering the loose +fragments of stone over him as he clung motionless to his support. Then +there was a dull thump below, and a little afterward a terrible moan, +and then all was still. + +Harold continued his descent and reached the base of the bluff in +safety. Through the darkness he could see a dark mass lying like a +shadow among the pointed stones, with the waves of the river rippling +about it. He approached it. There lay the steed gasping in the last +agony, and the rider beneath him, crushed, mangled and dead. He stooped +down by the side of the corpse; it was bent double beneath the quivering +body of the dying horse, in such a manner as must have snapped the spine +in twain. Harold lifted the head, but let it fall again with a shudder, +for his fingers had slipped into the crevice of the cleft skull and were +all smeared with the oozing brain. Yet, despite the obscurity and the +disfigurement, despite the bursting eyeballs and the clenched jaws +through which the blood was trickling, he recognized the features of +Seth Rawbon. + +No time for contemplation or for revery. There was a scrambling +overhead, with now and then a snarl and an angry growl. And further up, +he heard the sound of voices, labored and suppressed, as of men who were +speaking while toiling at some unwonted exercise. Harold threw off his +coat and boots, and waded out into the river. The dark hull of the +schooner could be seen looming above the gloomy surface of the water, +and he dashed toward it through the deepening wave. There was a splash +behind him and soon he could hear the puffing and short breathing of a +swimming dog. He was then up to his arm-pits in the water, and a few +yards further would bring him off his footing. He determined to wait the +onset there, while he could yet stand firm upon the shelving bottom. He +had not long to wait. The bloodhound made directly for him; he could see +his eyes snapping and glaring like red coals above the black water. +Harold braced himself as well as he could upon the yielding sand, and +held his poignard, Oriana's welcome gift, with a steady grasp. The dog +came so close that his fetid breath played upon Harold's cheek; then he +aimed a swift blow at his neck, but the brute dodged it like a fish. +Harold lost his balance and fell forward into the water, but in falling, +he launched out his left hand and caught the tough loose skin above the +animal's shoulder. He held it with the grasp of a drowning man, and over +and over they rolled in the water, like two sea monsters at their sport. +With all his strength, Harold drew the fierce brute toward him, +circling his neck tightly with his left arm, and pressed the sharp blade +against his throat. The hot blood gushed out over his hand, but he drove +the weapon deeper, slitting the sinewy flesh to the right and left, till +the dog ceased to struggle. Then Harold flung the huge carcass from him, +and struck out, breathless as he was, for the schooner. It was time, for +already his pursuers were upon the bank, aiming their pistol shots at +the black spot which they could just distinguish cleaving through the +water. But a few vigorous strokes carried him beyond their vision and +they ceased firing. Soon he heard the sound of muffled oars and a dark +shape seemed to rise from the water in front of him. The watch on board +the schooner, alarmed by the firing, had sent a boat's crew to +reconnoitre. Harold divined that it was so, and hailing the approaching +boat, was taken in, and ten minutes afterward, stood, exhausted but +safe, upon the schooner's deck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +With the earliest opportunity, Harold proceeded to Washington, and +sought an interview with the President, in relation to Arthur's case. +Mr. Lincoln received him kindly, but could give no information +respecting the arrest or alleged criminality of his friend. "There were +so many and pressing affairs of state that he could find no room for +individual cases in his memory." However, he referred him to the +Secretary of War, with a request that the latter would look into the +matter. By dint of persistent inquiries at various sources, Harold +finally ascertained that the prisoner had a few days previously been +released, upon the assurance of the surgeon at the fort, that his +failing health required his immediate removal. Inquiry had been made +into the circumstances leading to his arrest; made too late, however, to +benefit the victim of a State mistake, whose delicate health had already +been too severely tried by the discomforts attendant upon his +situation. However, enough had been ascertained to leave but little +doubt as to his innocence; and Arthur, with the ghastly signs of a rapid +consumption upon his wan cheek, was dismissed from the portals of a +prison, which had already prepared him for the tomb. + +Harold hastened to Vermont, whither he knew the invalid had been +conveyed. It was toward the close of the first autumn day that he +entered the little village, upon whose outskirts was situated the farm +of his dying friend. The air was mild and balmy, but the voices of +nature seemed to him more hushed than usual, as if in mournful unison +with his own sad reveries. He had passed on foot from the village to the +farm-house, and when he opened the little white wicket, and walked along +the gravelled avenue that led to the flower-clad porch, the willows on +either side seemed to droop lower than willows are used to droop, and +the soft September air sighed through the swinging boughs, like the +prelude of a dirge. + +Arthur was reclining upon an easy-chair upon the little porch, and +beside him sat a venerable lady, reading from the worn silver-clasped +Bible, which rested on her lap. The lady rose when he approached; and +Arthur, whose gaze had been wandering among the autumn clouds, that +wreathed the points of the far-off mountains, turned his head languidly, +when the footsteps broke his dream. + +He did not rise. Alas! he was too weak to do so without the support of +his aged mother's arm, which had so often cradled him in infancy and had +now become the staff of his broken manhood. But a beautiful and happy +smile illumined his pale lips, and spread all over the thin and wasted +features, like sunlight gleaming on the grey surface of a church-yard +stone. He lifted his attenuated hand, and when Harold clasped it, the +fingers were so cold and deathlike that their pressure seemed to close +about his heart, compressing it, and chilling the life current in his +veins. + +"I knew that you would come, Harold. Although I read that you were +missing at the close of that dreadful battle, something told me that we +should meet again. Whether it was a sick man's fancy, or the foresight +of a parting soul, it is realized, for you are here. And you come not +too soon, Harold," he added, with a pressure of the feeble hand, "for I +am going fast--fast from the discords of earth--fast to the calm and +harmony beyond." + +"Oh, Arthur, how changed you are!" said Harold, who could not keep from +fastening his gaze on the white, sunken cheek and hollow eyes of his +dying comrade. "But you will get better now, will you not--now that you +are home again, and we can nurse you?" + +Arthur shook his head with a mournful smile, and the fit of painful +coughing which overtook him answered his friend's vain hope. + +"No, Harold, no. All of earth is past to me, even hope. And I am ready, +cheerful even, to go, except for the sake of some loved ones that will +sorrow for me." + +He took his mother's hand as he spoke, and looked at her with touching +tenderness, while the poor dame brushed away her tears. + +"I have but a brief while to stay behind," she said, "and my sorrow will +be less, to know that you have ever been a good son to me. Oh, Mr. Hare, +he might have lived to comfort me, and close my old eyes in death, if +they had not been so cruel with him, and locked him within prison +walls. He, who never dreamed of wrong, and never injured willingly a +worm in his path." + +"Nay, mother, they were not unkind to me in the fort, and did what they +could to make me comfortable. But, Harold, it is wrong. I have thought +of it in the long, weary nights in prison, and I have thought of it when +I knew that death was beckoning me to come and rest from the thoughts of +earth. It is wrong to tamper with the sacred law that shields the +citizen. I believe that many a man within those fortress walls is as +innocent in the eyes of God as those who sent him there. Yet I accuse +none of willful wrong, but only of unconscious error. If the sacrifice +of my poor life could shed one ray upon the darkness, I would rejoice to +be the victim that I am, of a violated right. But all, statesmen, and +chieftains, and humble citizens, are being swept along upon the +whirlwinds of passion; all hearts are ablaze with the fiery magnificence +of war, and none will take warning till the land shall be desolate, and +thousands, stricken in their prime, shall be sleeping--where I shall +soon be--beneath the cold sod. I am weary, mother, and chill. Let us go +in." + +They bore him in and helped him to his bed, where he lay pale and +silent, seeming much worse from the fatigue of conversation and the +excitement of his meeting with his old college friend. Mrs. Wayne left +him in charge of Harold, while she went below to prepare what little +nourishment he could take, and to provide refreshment for her guest. + +Arthur lay, for a space, with his eyes closed, and apparently in sleep. +But he looked up, at last, and stretched out his hand to Harold, who +pressed the thin fingers, whiter than the coverlet on which they rested. + +"Is mother there?" + +"No, Arthur," replied Harold. "Shall I call her?" + +"No. I thought to have spoken to you, to-morrow, of something that has +been often my theme of thought; but I know not what strange feeling has +crept upon me; and perhaps, Harold--for we know not what the morrow may +bring--perhaps I had better speak now." + +"It hurts you, Arthur; you are too weak. Indeed, you must sleep now, and +to-morrow we shall talk." + +"No; now, Harold. It will not hurt me, or if it does, it matters little +now. Harold, I would fain that no shadow of unkindness should linger +between us twain when I am gone." + +"Why should there, Arthur? You have been my true friend always, and as +such shall I remember you." + +"Yet have I wronged you; yet have I caused you much grief and +bitterness, and only your own generous nature preserved us from +estrangement. Harold, have you heard from _her_?" + +"I have seen her, Arthur. During my captivity, she was my jailer; in my +sickness, for I was slightly wounded, she was my nurse. I will tell you +all about it to-morrow." + +"Yes, to-morrow," replied Arthur, breathing heavily. "To-morrow! the +word sounds meaningless to me, like something whose significance has +left me. Is she well, Harold?" + +"Yes." + +"And happy?" + +"I think so, Arthur. As happy as any of us can be, amid severed ties and +dread uncertainties." + +"I am glad that she is well. Harold, you will tell her, for I am sure +you will meet again, you will tell her it was my dying wish that you two +should be united. Will you promise, Harold?" + +"I will tell her all that you wish, Arthur." + +"I seem to feel that I shall be happy in my grave, to know that, she +will be your wife; to know that my guilty love--for I loved her, Harold, +and it _was_ guilt to love--to know that it left no poison behind, that +its shadow has passed away from the path that you must tread." + +"Speak not of guilt, my friend. There could live no crime between two +such noble hearts. And had I thought you would have accepted the +sacrifice, I could almost have been happy to have given her to you, so +much was her happiness the aim of my own love." + +"Yes, for you have a glorious heart, Harold; and I thank Heaven that she +cannot fail to love you. And you do not think, do you, Harold, that it +would be wrong for you two to speak of me when I am gone? I cannot bear +to think that you should deem it necessary to drive me from your +memories, as one who had stepped in between your hearts. I am sure she +will love you none the less for her remembrance of me, and therefore +sometimes you will talk together of me, will you not?" + +"Yes, we will often talk of you, for what dearer theme to both could we +choose; what purer recollections could our memories cherish than of the +friend we both loved so much, and who so well deserved our love?" + +"And I am forgiven, Harold?" + +"Were there aught to be forgiven, I would forgive; but I have never +harbored in my most secret heart one trace of anger or resentment toward +you. Do not talk more, dear Arthur. To-morrow, perhaps, you will be +stronger, and then we will speak again. Here comes your mother, and she +will scold me for letting you fatigue yourself so much." + +"Raise me a little on the pillow, please. I seem to breathe more heavily +to-night. Thank you, I will sleep now. Good night, mother; I will eat +the gruel when I wake. I had rather sleep now. Good night, Harold!" + +He fell into a slumber almost immediately, and they would not disturb +him, although his mother had prepared the food he had been used to +take. + +"I think he is better to-night. He seems to sleep more tranquilly," said +Mrs. Wayne. "If you will step below, I have got a dish of tea for you, +and some little supper." + +Harold went down and refreshed himself at the widow's neat and +hospitable board, and then walked out into the evening, to dissipate, if +possible, the cloud that was lowering about his heart. He paced up and +down the avenue of willows, and though the fresh night air soothed the +fever of his brain, he could not chase away the gloom that weighed upon +his spirit. His mind wandered among mournful memories--the field of +battle, strewn with the dying and the dead; the hospital where brave +suffering men were groaning under the surgeon's knife; the sick chamber, +where his friend was dying. + +"And I, too," he thought, "have become the craftsman of Death, training +my arm and intellect to be cunning in the butchery of my fellows! +Wearing the instrument of torture at my side, and using the faculties +God gave me to mutilate His image. Yet, from the pulpit and the +statesman's chair, and far back through ages from the pages of history, +precept and example have sought to record its justification, under the +giant plea of necessity. But is it justified? Has man, in his +enlightenment, sufficiently studied to throw aside the hereditary errors +that come from the past, clothed in barbarous splendors to mislead +thought and dazzle conscience? Oh, for one glimpse of the Eternal Truth! +to teach us how far is delegated to mortal man the right to take away +the life he cannot give. When shall the sword be held accursed? When +shall man cease to meddle with the most awful prerogative of his God? +When shall our right hands be cleansed forever from the stain of blood, +and homicide be no longer a purpose and a glory upon earth? I shudder +when I look up at the beautiful serenity of this autumn sky, and +remember that my deed has loosened an immortal soul from its clay, and +hurled it, unprepared, into its Maker's presence. My conscience would +rebuke my hand, should it willfully shatter the sculptor's marble +wrought into human shape, or deface the artist's ideal pictured upon +canvas, or destroy aught that is beautiful and costly of man's ingenuity +and labor. And yet these I might replace with emptying a purse into the +craftsman's hand. But will my gold recall the vital spark into those +cold forms that, stricken by my steel or bullet, are rotting in their +graves? The masterpiece of God I have destroyed. His image have I +defaced; the wonderful mechanism that He alone can mold, and molded for +His own holy purpose, have I shattered and dismembered; the soul, an +essence of His own eternity, have I chased from its alotted earthly +home, and I rely for my justification upon--what?--the fact that my +victim differed from me in political belief. Must the hand of man be +raised against the workmanship of God because an earthly bond has been +sundered? Our statesmen teach us so, the ministers of our faith +pronounce it just; but, oh God! should it be wrong! When the blood is +hot, when the heart throbs with exaltation, when martial music swells, +and the war-steed prances, and the bayonets gleam in the bright +sunlight--then I think not of the doubt, nor of the long train of +horrors, the tears, the bereavements, the agonies, of which this martial +magnificence is but the vanguard. But now, in the still calmness of the +night, when all around me and above me breathes of the loveliness and +holiness of peace, I fear. I question nature, hushed as she is and +smiling in repose, and her calm beauty tells me that Peace is sacred; +that her Master sanctions no discords among His children. I question my +own conscience, and it tells me that the sword wins not the everlasting +triumph--that the voice of war finds no echo within the gates of +heaven." + +Ill-comforted by his reflections, he returned to the quiet dwelling, and +entered the chamber of his friend. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + +The sufferer was still sleeping, and Mrs. Wayne was watching by the +bedside. Harold seated himself beside her, and gazed mournfully upon the +pale, still features that already, but for the expression of pain that +lingered there, seemed to have passed from the quiet of sleep to the +deeper calm of death. + +"Each moment that I look," said Mrs. Wayne, wiping her tears away, "I +seem to see the grey shadows of the grave stealing over his brow. The +doctor was here a few moments before you came. The minister, too, sat +with him all the morning. I know from their kind warning that I shall +soon be childless. He has but a few hours to be with me. Oh, my son! my +son!" + +She bent her head upon the pillow, and wept silently in the bitterness +of her heart. Harold forebore to check that holy grief; but when the +old lady, with Christian resignation, had recovered her composure, he +pressed her to seek that repose which her aged frame so much needed. + +"I will sit by Arthur while you rest awhile; you have already overtasked +your strength with vigil. I will awake you should there be a change." + +She consented to lie upon the sofa, and soon wept herself to sleep, for +she was really quite broken down with watching. Everything was hushed +around, save the monotones of the insects in the fields, and the +breathing of those that slept. If there is an hour when the soul is +lifted above earth and communes with holy things, it is in the stillness +of the country night, when the solitary watcher sits beside the pillow +of a loved one, waiting the coming of the dark angel, whose footsteps +are at the threshold. Harold sat gazing silently at the face of the +invalid; sometimes a feeble smile would struggle with the lines of +suffering upon the pinched and haggard lineaments, and once from the +white lips came the murmur of a name, so low that only the solemn +stillness made the sound palpable--the name of Oriana. + +Toward midnight, Arthur's breathing became more difficult and painful, +and his features changed so rapidly that Harold became fearful that the +end was come. With a sigh, he stepped softly to the sofa, and wakened +Mrs. Wayne, taking her gently by the hand which trembled in his grasp. +She knew that she was awakened to a terrible sorrow--that she was about +to bid farewell to the joy of her old age. Arthur opened his eyes, but +the weeping mother turned from them; she could not bear to meet them, +for already the glassy film was veiling the azure depths whose light had +been so often turned to her in tenderness. + +"Give me some air, mother. It is so close--I cannot breathe." + +They raised him upon the pillow, and his mother supported the languid +head upon her bosom. + +"Arthur, my son! are you suffering, my poor boy?" + +"Yes. It will pass away. Do not grieve. Kiss me, dear mother." + +He was gasping for breath, and his hand was tightly clasped about his +mother's withered palm. She wiped the dampness from his brow, mingling +her tears with the cold dews of death. + +"Is Harold there?" + +"Yes, Arthur." + +"You will not forget? And you will love and guard her well?" + +"Yes, Arthur." + +"Put away the sword, Harold; it is accursed of God. Is not that the +moonlight that streams upon the bed?" + +"Yes. Does it disturb you, Arthur?" + +"No. Let it come in. Let it all come in; it seems a flood of glory." + +His voice grew faint, till they could scarce hear its murmur. His +breathing was less painful, and the old smile began to wreathe about his +lips, smoothing the lines of pain. + +"Kiss me, dear mother! You need not hold me. I am well enough--I am +happy, mother. I can sleep now." + +He slept no earthly slumber. As the summer air that wafts a rose-leaf +from its stem, gently his last sigh stole upon the stillness of the +night. Harold lifted the lifeless form from the mother's arms, and when +it drooped upon the pillow, he turned away, that the parent might close +the lids of the dead son. + + +THE END. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fort Lafayette or, Love and Secession +by Benjamin Wood + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORT LAFAYETTE *** + +***** This file should be named 12452.txt or 12452.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/4/5/12452/ + +Produced by Curtis Weyant, Stephen Hope and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/12452.zip b/old/12452.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6eee55 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12452.zip |