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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Clansman, by Thomas Dixon
+
+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: The Clansman
+       An Historical Romance of the Ku Klux Klan
+
+Author: Thomas Dixon
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2008 [EBook #26240]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLANSMAN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CLANSMAN
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+The Illustrations Shown in This Edition Are Reproductions of Scenes
+from the Photo-Play of "The Birth of a Nation" Produced and
+Copyrighted by The Epoch Producing Corporation, to Whom the Publishers
+Desire to Express Their Thanks and Appreciation for Permission to Use
+the Pictures.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+[Illustration: THE REIGN OF THE KLAN]
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+THE CLANSMAN
+
+An Historical Romance
+of the Ku Klux Klan
+
+By
+THOMAS DIXON
+
+Author Of
+The Leopard's Spots, Comrades, Etc.
+
+Illustrated With Scenes From The Photo-Play
+THE BIRTH OF A NATION
+Produced And Copyrighted By
+Epoch Producing Corporation
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP
+Publishers :: New York
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Copyright, 1905
+BY THOMAS DIXON, JR.
+
+The Country Life Press, Garden City, N. Y.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+TO THE MEMORY OF
+A SCOTCH-IRISH LEADER OF THE SOUTH
+
+MY UNCLE, COLONEL LEROY MCAFEE
+
+GRAND TITAN OF THE INVISIBLE EMPIRE
+KU KLUX KLAN
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+TO THE READER
+
+"The Clansman" is the second book of a series of historical novels planned
+on the Race Conflict. "The Leopard's Spots" was the statement in
+historical outline of the conditions from the enfranchisement of the negro
+to his disfranchisement.
+
+"The Clansman" develops the true story of the "Ku Klux Klan Conspiracy,"
+which overturned the Reconstruction régime.
+
+The organization was governed by the Grand Wizard Commander-in-Chief, who
+lived at Memphis, Tennessee. The Grand Dragon commanded a State, the Grand
+Titan a Congressional District, the Grand Giant a County, and the Grand
+Cyclops a Township Den. The twelve volumes of Government reports on the
+famous Klan refer chiefly to events which occurred after 1870, the date of
+its dissolution.
+
+The chaos of blind passion that followed Lincoln's assassination is
+inconceivable to-day. The revolution it produced in our Government, and
+the bold attempt of Thaddeus Stevens to Africanize ten great States of the
+American Union, read now like tales from "The Arabian Nights."
+
+I have sought to preserve in this romance both the letter and the spirit
+of this remarkable period. The men who enact the drama of fierce revenge
+into which I have woven a double love story are historical figures. I have
+merely changed their names without taking a liberty with any essential
+historic fact.
+
+In the darkest hour of the life of the South, when her wounded people lay
+helpless amid rags and ashes under the beak and talon of the Vulture,
+suddenly from the mists of the mountains appeared a white cloud the size
+of a man's hand. It grew until its mantle of mystery enfolded the stricken
+earth and sky. An "Invisible Empire" had risen from the field of Death and
+challenged the Visible to mortal combat.
+
+How the young South, led by the reincarnated souls of the Clansmen of Old
+Scotland, went forth under this cover and against overwhelming odds,
+daring exile, imprisonment, and a felon's death, and saved the life of a
+people, forms one of the most dramatic chapters in the history of the
+Aryan race.
+
+                                                      Thomas Dixon, Jr.
+
+  Dixondale, Va.
+    December 14, 1904.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+CONTENTS
+
+BOOK I
+
+THE ASSASSINATION
+
+CHAPTER                                  PAGE
+     I.  The Bruised Reed                   3
+    II.  The Great Heart                   19
+   III.  The Man of War                    33
+    IV.  A Clash of Giants                 38
+    IV.  The Battle of Love                56
+    VI.  The Assassination                 61
+   VII.  The Frenzy of a Nation            80
+
+BOOK II
+
+THE REVOLUTION
+
+CHAPTER                                  PAGE
+     I.  The First Lady of the Land        90
+    II.  Sweethearts                      101
+   III.  The Joy of Living                112
+    IV.  Hidden Treasure                  115
+     V.  Across the Chasm                 120
+    VI.  The Gauge of Battle              131
+   VII.  A Woman Laughs                   136
+  VIII.  A Dream                          148
+    IX.  The King Amuses Himself          152
+     X.  Tossed by the Storm              162
+    XI.  The Supreme Test                 165
+   XII.  Triumph in Defeat                179
+
+BOOK III
+
+THE REIGN OF TERROR
+
+CHAPTER                                  PAGE
+     I.  A Fallen Slaveholder's Mansion   187
+    II.  The Eyes of the Jungle           204
+   III.  Augustus Cæsar                   209
+    IV.  At the Point of the Bayonet      218
+     V.  Forty Acres and a Mule           235
+    VI.  A Whisper in the Crowd           244
+   VII.  By the Light of a Torch          254
+  VIII.  The Riot in the Master's Hall    263
+    IX.  At Lover's Leap                  276
+     X.  A Night Hawk                     284
+    XI.  The Beat of a Sparrow's Wing     297
+   XII.  At the Dawn of Day               305
+
+BOOK IV
+
+THE KU KLUX KLAN
+
+CHAPTER                                  PAGE
+     I.  The Hunt for the Animal          309
+    II.  The Fiery Cross                  318
+   III.  The Parting of the Ways          327
+    IV.  The Banner of the Dragon         337
+     V.  The Reign of the Klan            341
+    VI.  The Counter Stroke               351
+   VII.  The Snare of the Fowler          358
+  VIII.  A Ride for a Life                362
+    IX.  "Vengeance Is Mine"              369
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+LEADING CHARACTERS OF THE STORY
+
+Scene: Washington and the Foothills of the Carolinas.
+
+Time: 1865 to 1870.
+
+Ben Cameron              Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan
+Margaret                                       His Sister
+Mrs. Cameron                                   His Mother
+Dr. Richard Cameron                            His Father
+Hon. Austin Stoneman           Radical Leader of Congress
+Phil                                              His Son
+Elsie                                        His Daughter
+Marion Lenoir                            Ben's First Love
+Mrs. Lenoir                                    Her Mother
+Jake                                       A Faithful Man
+Silas Lynch                            A Negro Missionary
+Uncle Aleck                        The Member from Ulster
+Cindy                                            His Wife
+Colonel Howle                             A Carpet-bagger
+Augustus Cæsar                         Of the Black Guard
+Charles Sumner                           Of Massachusetts
+Gen. Benjamin F. Butler                    Of Fort Fisher
+Andrew Johnson                              The President
+U. S. Grant                        The Commanding General
+Abraham Lincoln                   The Friend of the South
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+THE CLANSMAN
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+Book I--The Assassination
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE BRUISED REED
+
+
+The fair girl who was playing a banjo and singing to the wounded soldiers
+suddenly stopped, and, turning to the surgeon, whispered:
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"It sounds like a mob----"
+
+With a common impulse they moved to the open window of the hospital and
+listened.
+
+On the soft spring air came the roar of excited thousands sweeping down
+the avenue from the Capitol toward the White House. Above all rang the
+cries of struggling newsboys screaming an "Extra." One of them darted
+around the corner, his shrill voice quivering with excitement:
+
+"_Extra! Extra! Peace! Victory!_"
+
+Windows were suddenly raised, women thrust their heads out, and others
+rushed into the street and crowded around the boy, struggling to get his
+papers. He threw them right and left and snatched the money--no one asked
+for change. Without ceasing rose his cry:
+
+"_Extra! Peace! Victory! Lee has surrendered!_"
+
+At last the end had come.
+
+The great North, with its millions of sturdy people and their exhaustless
+resources, had greeted the first shot on Sumter with contempt and
+incredulity. A few regiments went forward for a month's outing to settle
+the trouble. The Thirteenth Brooklyn marched gayly Southward on a thirty
+days' jaunt, with pieces of rope conspicuously tied to their muskets with
+which to bring back each man a Southern prisoner to be led in a noose
+through the streets on their early triumphant return! It would be unkind
+to tell what became of those ropes when they suddenly started back home
+ahead of the scheduled time from the first battle of Bull Run.
+
+People from the South, equally wise, marched gayly North, to whip five
+Yankees each before breakfast, and encountered unforeseen difficulties.
+
+Both sides had things to learn, and learned them in a school whose logic
+is final--a four years' course in the University of Hell--the scream of
+eagles, the howl of wolves, the bay of tigers, the roar of lions--all
+locked in Death's embrace, and each mad scene lit by the glare of
+volcanoes of savage passions!
+
+But the long agony was over.
+
+The city bells began to ring. The guns of the forts joined the chorus, and
+their deep steel throats roared until the earth trembled.
+
+Just across the street a mother who was reading the fateful news turned
+and suddenly clasped a boy to her heart, crying for joy. The last draft of
+half a million had called for him.
+
+The Capital of the Nation was shaking off the long nightmare of horror and
+suspense. More than once the city had shivered at the mercy of those
+daring men in gray, and the reveille of their drums had startled even the
+President at his desk.
+
+Again and again had the destiny of the Republic hung on the turning of a
+hair, and in every crisis, Luck, Fate, God, had tipped the scale for the
+Union.
+
+A procession of more than five hundred Confederate deserters, who had
+crossed the lines in groups, swung into view, marching past the hospital,
+indifferent to the tumult. Only a nominal guard flanked them as they
+shuffled along, tired, ragged, and dirty. The gray in their uniforms was
+now the colour of clay. Some had on blue pantaloons, some, blue vests,
+others blue coats captured on the field of blood. Some had pieces of
+carpet, and others old bags around their shoulders. They had been passing
+thus for weeks. Nobody paid any attention to them.
+
+"One of the secrets of the surrender!" exclaimed Doctor Barnes. "Mr.
+Lincoln has been at the front for the past weeks with offers of peace and
+mercy, if they would lay down their arms. The great soul of the President,
+even the genius of Lee could not resist. His smile began to melt those
+gray ranks as the sun is warming the earth to-day."
+
+"You are a great admirer of the President," said the girl, with a curious
+smile.
+
+"Yes, Miss Elsie, and so are all who know him."
+
+She turned from the window without reply. A shadow crossed her face as she
+looked past the long rows of cots, on which rested the men in blue, until
+her eyes found one on which lay, alone among his enemies, a young
+Confederate officer.
+
+The surgeon turned with her toward the man.
+
+"Will he live?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, only to be hung."
+
+"For what?" she cried.
+
+"Sentenced by court-martial as a guerilla. It's a lie, but there's some
+powerful hand back of it--some mysterious influence in high authority. The
+boy wasn't fully conscious at the trial."
+
+"We must appeal to Mr. Stanton."
+
+"As well appeal to the devil. They say the order came from his office."
+
+"A boy of nineteen!" she exclaimed. "It's a shame. I'm looking for his
+mother. You told me to telegraph to Richmond for her."
+
+"Yes, I'll never forget his cries that night, so utterly pitiful and
+childlike. I've heard many a cry of pain, but in all my life nothing so
+heartbreaking as that boy in fevered delirium talking to his mother. His
+voice is one of peculiar tenderness, penetrating and musical. It goes
+quivering into your soul, and compels you to listen until you swear it's
+your brother or sweetheart or sister or mother calling you. You should
+have seen him the day he fell. God of mercies, the pity and the glory of
+it!"
+
+[Illustration: "YOUR BROTHER SPRANG FORWARD AND CAUGHT HIM IN HIS ARMS."]
+
+"Phil wrote me that he was a hero and asked me to look after him. Were you
+there?"
+
+"Yes, with the battery your brother was supporting. He was the colonel of
+a shattered rebel regiment lying just in front of us before Petersburg.
+Richmond was doomed, resistance was madness, but there they were, ragged
+and half starved, a handful of men, not more than four hundred, but their
+bayonets gleamed and flashed in the sunlight. In the face of a murderous
+fire he charged and actually drove our men out of an entrenchment. We
+concentrated our guns on him as he crouched behind this earthwork. Our own
+men lay outside in scores, dead, dying, and wounded. When the fire
+slacked, we could hear their cries for water.
+
+"Suddenly this boy sprang on the breastwork. He was dressed in a new gray
+colonel's uniform that mother of his, in the pride of her soul, had sent
+him.
+
+"He was a handsome figure--tall, slender, straight, a gorgeous yellow sash
+tasselled with gold around his waist, his sword flashing in the sun, his
+slouch hat cocked on one side and an eagle's feather in it.
+
+"We thought he was going to lead another charge, but just as the battery
+was making ready to fire he deliberately walked down the embankment in a
+hail of musketry and began to give water to our wounded men.
+
+"Every gun ceased firing, and we watched him. He walked back to the
+trench, his naked sword flashed suddenly above that eagle's feather, and
+his grizzled ragamuffins sprang forward and charged us like so many
+demons.
+
+"There were not more than three hundred of them now, but on they came,
+giving that hellish rebel yell at every jump--the cry of the hunter from
+the hilltop at the sight of his game! All Southern men are hunters, and
+that cry was transformed in war into something unearthly when it came from
+a hundred throats in chorus and the game was human.
+
+"Of course, it was madness. We blew them down that hill like chaff before
+a hurricane. When the last man had staggered back or fallen, on came this
+boy alone, carrying the colours he had snatched from a falling soldier, as
+if he were leading a million men to victory.
+
+"A bullet had blown his hat from his head, and we could see the blood
+streaming down the side of his face. He charged straight into the jaws of
+one of our guns. And then, with a smile on his lips and a dare to death in
+his big brown eyes, he rammed that flag into the cannon's mouth, reeled,
+and fell! A cheer broke from our men.
+
+"Your brother sprang forward and caught him in his arms, and as we bent
+over the unconscious form, he exclaimed: 'My God, doctor, look at him! He
+is so much like me I feel as if I had been shot myself!' They were as much
+alike as twins--only his hair was darker. I tell you, Miss Elsie, it's a
+sin to kill men like that. One such man is worth more to this nation than
+every negro that ever set his flat foot on this continent!"
+
+The girl's eyes had grown dim as she listened to the story.
+
+"I will appeal to the President," she said firmly.
+
+"It's the only chance. And just now he is under tremendous pressure. His
+friendly order to the Virginia Legislature to return to Richmond, Stanton
+forced him to cancel. A master hand has organized a conspiracy in Congress
+to crush the President. They curse his policy of mercy as imbecility, and
+swear to make the South a second Poland. Their watchwords are vengeance
+and confiscation. Four fifths of his party in Congress are in this plot.
+The President has less than a dozen real friends in either House on whom
+he can depend. They say that Stanton is to be given a free hand, and that
+the gallows will be busy. This cancelled order of the President looks like
+it."
+
+"I'll try my hand with Mr. Stanton," she said with slow emphasis.
+
+"Good luck, Little Sister--let me know if I can help," the surgeon
+answered cheerily as he passed on his round of work.
+
+Elsie Stoneman took her seat beside the cot of the wounded Confederate and
+began softly to sing and play.
+
+A little farther along the same row a soldier was dying, a faint choking
+just audible in his throat. An attendant sat beside him and would not
+leave till the last. The ordinary chat and hum of the ward went on
+indifferent to peace, victory, life, or death. Before the finality of the
+hospital all other events of earth fade. Some were playing cards or
+checkers, some laughing and joking, and others reading.
+
+At the first soft note from the singer the games ceased, and the reader
+put down his book.
+
+The banjo had come to Washington with the negroes following the wake of
+the army. She had laid aside her guitar and learned to play all the
+stirring camp songs of the South. Her voice was low, soothing, and tender.
+It held every silent listener in a spell.
+
+As she played and sang the songs the wounded man loved, her eyes lingered
+in pity on his sun-bronzed face, pinched and drawn with fever. He was
+sleeping the stupid sleep that gives no rest. She could count the
+irregular pounding of his heart in the throb of the big vein on his neck.
+His lips were dry and burnt, and the little boyish moustache curled upward
+from the row of white teeth as if scorched by the fiery breath.
+
+He began to talk in flighty sentences, and she listened--his mother--his
+sister--and yes, she was sure as she bent nearer--a little sweetheart who
+lived next door. They all had sweethearts--these Southern boys. Again he
+was teasing his dog--and then back in battle.
+
+At length he opened his eyes, great dark-brown eyes, unnaturally bright,
+with a strange yearning look in their depths as they rested on Elsie. He
+tried to smile and feebly said:
+
+"Here's--a--fly--on--my--left--ear--my--guns--can't--somehow--
+reach--him--won't--you--"
+
+She sprang forward and brushed the fly away.
+
+Again he opened his eyes.
+
+"Excuse--me--for--asking--but am I alive?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," was the cheerful answer.
+
+"Well, now, then, is this me, or is it not me, or has a cannon shot me, or
+has the devil got me?"
+
+"It's you. The cannon didn't shoot you, but three muskets did. The devil
+hasn't got you yet, but he will unless you're good."
+
+"I'll be good if you won't leave me----"
+
+Elsie turned her head away smiling, and he went on slowly:
+
+"But I'm dead, I know. I'm sleeping on a cot with a canopy over it. I
+ain't hungry any more, and an angel has been hovering over me playing on a
+harp of gold----"
+
+"Only a little Yankee girl playing the banjo."
+
+"Can't fool me--I'm in heaven."
+
+"You're in the hospital."
+
+"Funny hospital--look at that harp and that big trumpet hanging close by
+it--that's Gabriel's trumpet----"
+
+"No," she laughed. "This is the Patent Office building, that covers two
+blocks, now a temporary hospital. There are seventy thousand wounded
+soldiers in town, and more coming on every train. The thirty-five
+hospitals are overcrowded."
+
+He closed his eyes a moment in silence, and then spoke with a feeble
+tremor:
+
+"I'm afraid you don't know who I am--I can't impose on you--I'm a
+rebel----"
+
+"Yes, I know. You are Colonel Ben Cameron. It makes no difference to me
+now which side you fought on."
+
+"Well, I'm in heaven--been dead a long time. I can prove it, if you'll
+play again."
+
+"What shall I play?"
+
+"First, '_O Jonny Booker Help dis Nigger_.'"
+
+She played and sang it beautifully.
+
+"Now, '_Wake Up in the Morning_.'"
+
+Again he listened with wide, staring eyes that saw nothing except visions
+within.
+
+"Now, then, '_The Ole Gray Hoss_.'"
+
+As the last notes died away he tried to smile again:
+
+"One more--'_Hard Times an' Wuss er Comin'_.'"
+
+With deft, sure touch and soft negro dialect she sang it through.
+
+"Now, didn't I tell you that you couldn't fool me? No Yankee girl could
+play and sing these songs, I'm in heaven, and you're an angel."
+
+"Aren't you ashamed of yourself to flirt with me, with one foot in the
+grave?"
+
+"That's the time to get on good terms with the angels--but I'm done
+dead----"
+
+Elsie laughed in spite of herself.
+
+"I know it," he went on, "because you have shining golden hair and amber
+eyes instead of blue ones. I never saw a girl in my life before with such
+eyes and hair."
+
+"But you're young yet."
+
+"Never--was--such--a--girl--on--earth--you're--an----"
+
+She lifted her finger in warning, and his eyelids drooped In exhausted
+stupor.
+
+"You musn't talk any more," she whispered, shaking her head.
+
+A commotion at the door caused Elsie to turn from the cot. A sweet
+motherly woman of fifty, in an old faded black dress, was pleading with
+the guard to be allowed to pass.
+
+"Can't do it, m'um. It's agin the rules."
+
+"But I must go in. I've tramped for four days through a wilderness of
+hospitals, and I know he must be here."
+
+"Special orders, m'um--wounded rebels in here that belong in prison."
+
+"Very well, young man," said the pleading voice. "My baby boy's in this
+place, wounded and about to die. I'm going in there. You can shoot me if
+you like, or you can turn your head the other way."
+
+She stepped quickly past the soldier, who merely stared with dim eyes out
+the door and saw nothing.
+
+She stood for a moment with a look of helpless bewilderment. The vast area
+of the second story of the great monolithic pile was crowded with rows of
+sick, wounded, and dying men--a strange, solemn, and curious sight.
+Against the walls were ponderous glass cases, filled with models of every
+kind of invention the genius of man had dreamed. Between these cases were
+deep lateral openings, eight feet wide, crowded with the sick, and long
+rows of them were stretched through the centre of the hall. A gallery ran
+around above the cases, and this was filled with cots. The clatter of the
+feet of passing surgeons and nurses over the marble floor added to the
+weird impression.
+
+Elsie saw the look of helpless appeal in the mother's face and hurried
+forward to meet her:
+
+"Is this Mrs. Cameron, of South Carolina?"
+
+The trembling figure in black grasped her hand eagerly:
+
+"Yes, yes, my dear, and I'm looking for my boy, who is wounded unto death.
+Can you help me?"
+
+"I thought I recognized you from a miniature I've seen," she answered
+softly. "I'll lead you direct to his cot."
+
+"Thank you, thank you!" came the low reply.
+
+In a moment she was beside him, and Elsie walked away to the open window
+through which came the chirp of sparrows from the lilac bushes in full
+bloom below.
+
+The mother threw one look of infinite tenderness on the drawn face, and
+her hands suddenly clasped in prayer:
+
+"I thank Thee, Lord Jesus, for this hour! Thou hast heard the cry of my
+soul and led my feet!" She gently knelt, kissed the hot lips, smoothed the
+dark tangled hair back from his forehead, and her hand rested over his
+eyes.
+
+A faint flush tinged his face.
+
+"It's you,
+Mamma--I--know--you--that's--your--hand--or--else--it's--God's!"
+
+She slipped her arms about him.
+
+"My hero, my darling, my baby!"
+
+"I'll get well now, Mamma, never fear. You see, I had whipped them
+that day as I had many a time before. I don't know how it happened--my
+men seemed all to go down at once. You know--I couldn't surrender in
+that new uniform of a colonel you sent me--we made a gallant fight,
+and--now--I'm--just--a--little--tired--but you are here, and it's all
+right."
+
+"Yes, yes, dear. It's all over now. General Lee has surrendered, and when
+you are better I'll take you home, where the sunshine and flowers will
+give you strength again."
+
+"How's my little sis?"
+
+"Hunting in another part of the city for you. She's grown so tall and
+stately you'll hardly know her. Your papa is at home, and don't know yet
+that you are wounded."
+
+"And my sweetheart, Marion Lenoir?"
+
+"The most beautiful little girl in Piedmont--as sweet and mischievous as
+ever. Mr. Lenoir is very ill, but he has written a glorious poem about one
+of your charges. I'll show it to you to-morrow. He is our greatest poet.
+The South worships him. Marion sent her love to you and a kiss for the
+young hero of Piedmont. I'll give it to you now."
+
+She bent again and kissed him.
+
+"And my dogs?"
+
+"General Sherman left them, at least."
+
+"Well, I'm glad of that--my mare all right?"
+
+"Yes, but we had a time to save her--Jake hid her in the woods till the
+army passed."
+
+"Bully for Jake."
+
+"I don't know what we should have done without him."
+
+"Old Aleck still at home and getting drunk as usual?"
+
+"No, he ran away with the army and persuaded every negro on the Lenoir
+place to go, except his wife, Aunt Cindy."
+
+"The old rascal, when Mrs. Lenoir's mother saved him from burning to death
+when he was a boy!"
+
+"Yes, and he told the Yankees those fire scars were made with the lash,
+and led a squad to the house one night to burn the barns. Jake headed them
+off and told on him. The soldiers were so mad they strung him up and
+thrashed him nearly to death. We haven't seen him since."
+
+"Well, I'll take care of you, Mamma, when I get home. Of course I'll get
+well. It's absurd to die at nineteen. You know I never believed the bullet
+had been moulded that could hit me. In three years of battle I lived a
+charmed life and never got a scratch."
+
+His voice had grown feeble and laboured, and his face flushed. His mother
+placed her hand on his lips.
+
+"Just one more," he pleaded feebly. "Did you see the little angel who has
+been playing and singing for me? You must thank her."
+
+"Yes, I see her coming now. I must go and tell Margaret, and we will get a
+pass and come every day."
+
+She kissed him, and went to meet Elsie.
+
+"And you are the dear girl who has been playing and singing for my boy, a
+wounded stranger here alone among his foes?"
+
+"Yes, and for all the others, too."
+
+Mrs. Cameron seized both of her hands and looked at her tenderly.
+
+"You will let me kiss you? I shall always love you."
+
+She pressed Elsie to her heart. In spite of the girl's reserve, a sob
+caught her breath at the touch of the warm lips. Her own mother had died
+when she was a baby, and a shy, hungry heart, long hidden from the world,
+leaped in tenderness and pain to meet that embrace.
+
+Elsie walked with her to the door, wondering how the terrible truth of her
+boy's doom could be told.
+
+She tried to speak, looked into Mrs. Cameron's face, radiant with grateful
+joy, and the words froze on her lips. She decided to walk a little way
+with her. But the task became all the harder.
+
+At the corner she stopped abruptly and bade her good-bye:
+
+"I must leave you now, Mrs. Cameron. I will call for you in the morning
+and help you secure the passes to enter the hospital."
+
+The mother stroked the girl's hand and held it lingeringly.
+
+"How good you are," she said softly. "And you have not told me your
+name?"
+
+Elsie hesitated and said:
+
+"That's a little secret. They call me Sister Elsie, the Banjo Maid, in the
+hospitals. My father is a man of distinction. I should be annoyed if my
+full name were known. I'm Elsie Stoneman. My father is the leader of the
+House. I live with my aunt."
+
+"Thank you," she whispered, pressing her hand.
+
+Elsie watched the dark figure disappear in the crowd with a strange tumult
+of feeling.
+
+The mention of her father had revived the suspicion that he was the
+mysterious power threatening the policy of the President and planning a
+reign of terror for the South. Next to the President, he was the most
+powerful man in Washington, and the unrelenting foe of Mr. Lincoln,
+although the leader of his party in Congress, which he ruled with a rod of
+iron. He was a man of fierce and terrible resentments. And yet, in his
+personal life, to those he knew, he was generous and considerate. "Old
+Austin Stoneman, the Great Commoner," he was called, and his name was one
+to conjure with in the world of deeds. To this fair girl he was the
+noblest Roman of them all, her ideal of greatness. He was an indulgent
+father, and while not demonstrative, loved his children with passionate
+devotion.
+
+She paused and looked up at the huge marble columns that seemed each a
+sentinel beckoning her to return within to the cot that held a wounded
+foe. The twilight had deepened, and the soft light of the rising moon had
+clothed the solemn majesty of the building with shimmering tenderness and
+beauty.
+
+"Why should I be distressed for one, an enemy, among these thousands who
+have fallen?" she asked herself. Every detail of the scene she had passed
+through with him and his mother stood out in her soul with startling
+distinctness--and the horror of his doom cut with the deep sense of
+personal anguish.
+
+"He shall not die," she said, with sudden resolution. "I'll take his
+mother to the President. He can't resist her. I'll send for Phil to help
+me."
+
+She hurried to the telegraph office and summoned her brother.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE GREAT HEART
+
+
+The next morning, when Elsie reached the obscure boarding-house at which
+Mrs. Cameron stopped, the mother had gone to the market to buy a bunch of
+roses to place beside her boy's cot.
+
+As Elsie awaited her return, the practical little Yankee maid thought with
+a pang of the tenderness and folly of such people. She knew this mother
+had scarcely enough to eat, but to her bread was of small importance,
+flowers necessary to life. After all, it was very sweet, this foolishness
+of these Southern people, and it somehow made her homesick.
+
+"How can I tell her!" she sighed. "And yet I must."
+
+She had only waited a moment when Mrs. Cameron suddenly entered with her
+daughter. She threw her flowers on the table, sprang forward to meet
+Elsie, seized her hands and called to Margaret.
+
+"How good of you to come so soon! This, Margaret, is our dear little
+friend who has been so good to Ben and to me."
+
+Margaret took Elsie's hand and longed to throw her arms around her neck,
+but something in the quiet dignity of the Northern girl's manner held her
+back. She only smiled tenderly through her big dark eyes, and softly
+said:
+
+"We love you! Ben was my last brother. We were playmates and chums. My
+heart broke when he ran away to the front. How can we thank you and your
+brother!"
+
+"I'm sure we've done nothing more than you would have done for us," said
+Elsie, as Mrs. Cameron left the room.
+
+"Yes, I know, but we can never tell you how grateful we are to you. We
+feel that you have saved Ben's life and ours. The war has been one long
+horror to us since my first brother was killed. But now it's over, and we
+have Ben left, and our hearts have been crying for joy all night."
+
+"I hoped my brother, Captain Phil Stoneman, would be here to-day to meet
+you and help me, but he can't reach Washington before Friday."
+
+"He caught Ben in his arms!" cried Margaret. "I know he's brave, and you
+must be proud of him."
+
+"Doctor Barnes says they are as much alike as twins--only Phil is not
+quite so tall and has blond hair like mine."
+
+"You will let me see him and thank him the moment he comes?"
+
+"Hurry, Margaret!" cheerily cried Mrs. Cameron, reëntering the parlour.
+"Get ready; we must go at once to the hospital."
+
+Margaret turned and with stately grace hurried from the room. The old
+dress she wore as unconscious of its shabbiness as though it were a royal
+robe.
+
+"And now, my dear, what must I do to get the passes?" asked the mother
+eagerly.
+
+Elsie's warm amber eyes grew misty for a moment, and the fair skin with
+its gorgeous rose tints of the North paled. She hesitated, tried to speak,
+and was silent.
+
+The sensitive soul of the Southern woman read the message of sorrow words
+had not framed.
+
+"Tell me, quickly! The
+doctor--has--not--concealed--his--true--condition--from--me?"
+
+"No, he is certain to recover."
+
+"What then?"
+
+"Worse--he is condemned to death by court-martial."
+
+"Condemned to death--a--wounded--prisoner--of--war!" she whispered slowly,
+with blanched face.
+
+"Yes, he was accused of violating the rules of war as a guerilla raider in
+the invasion of Pennsylvania."
+
+"Absurd and monstrous! He was on General Jeb Stuart's staff and could have
+acted only under his orders. He joined the infantry after Stuart's death,
+and rose to be a colonel, though but a boy. There's some terrible
+mistake!"
+
+"Unless we can obtain his pardon," Elsie went on in even, restrained
+tones, "there is no hope. We must appeal to the President."
+
+The mother's lips trembled, and she seemed about to faint.
+
+"Could I see the President?" she asked, recovering herself with an
+effort.
+
+"He has just reached Washington from the front, and is thronged by
+thousands. It will be difficult."
+
+The mother's lips were moving in silent prayer, and her eyes were tightly
+closed to keep back the tears.
+
+"Can you help me, dear?" she asked piteously.
+
+"Yes," was the quick response.
+
+"You see," she went on, "I feel so helpless. I have never been to the
+White House or seen the President, and I don't know how to go about seeing
+him or how to ask him--and--I am afraid of Mr. Lincoln! I have heard so
+many harsh things said of him."
+
+"I'll do my best, Mrs. Cameron. We must go at once to the White House and
+try to see him."
+
+The mother lifted the girl's hand and stroked it gently.
+
+"We will not tell Margaret. Poor child! she could not endure this. When we
+return, we may have better news. It can't be worse. I'll send her on an
+errand."
+
+She took up the bouquet of gorgeous roses with a sigh, buried her face in
+the fresh perfume, as if to gain strength in their beauty and fragrance,
+and left the room.
+
+In a few moments she had returned and was on her way with Elsie to the
+White House.
+
+It was a beautiful spring morning, this eleventh day of April, 1865. The
+glorious sunshine, the shimmering green of the grass, the warm breezes,
+and the shouts of victory mocked the mother's anguish.
+
+At the White House gates they passed the blue sentry pacing silently back
+and forth, who merely glanced at them with keen eyes and said nothing. In
+the steady beat of his feet the mother could hear the tramp of soldiers
+leading her boy to the place of death!
+
+A great lump rose in her throat as she caught the first view of the
+Executive Mansion gleaming white and silent and ghostlike among the
+budding trees. The tall columns of the great facade, spotless as snow, the
+spray of the fountain, the marble walls, pure, dazzling, and cold, seemed
+to her the gateway to some great tomb in which her own dead and the dead
+of all the people lay! To her the fair white palace, basking there in the
+sunlight and budding grass, shrub, and tree, was the Judgment House of
+Fate. She thought of all the weary feet that had climbed its fateful steps
+in hope to return in despair, of its fierce dramas on which the lives of
+millions had hung, and her heart grew sick.
+
+A long line of people already stretched from the entrance under the
+portico far out across the park, awaiting their turn to see the
+President.
+
+Mrs. Cameron placed her hand falteringly on Elsie's shoulder.
+
+"Look, my dear, what a crowd already! Must we wait in line?"
+
+"No, I can get you past the throng with my father's name."
+
+"Will it be very difficult to reach the President?"
+
+"No, it's very easy. Guards and sentinels annoy him. He frets until they
+are removed. An assassin or maniac could kill him almost any hour of the
+day or night. The doors are open at all hours, very late at night. I have
+often walked up to the rooms of his secretaries as late as nine o'clock
+without being challenged by a soul."
+
+"What must I call him? Must I say 'Your Excellency?'"
+
+"By no means--he hates titles and forms. You should say 'Mr. President' in
+addressing him. But you will please him best if, in your sweet, homelike
+way, you will just call him by his name. You can rely on his sympathy.
+Read this letter of his to a widow. I brought it to show you."
+
+She handed Mrs. Cameron a newspaper clipping on which was printed Mr.
+Lincoln's letter to Mrs. Bixby, of Boston, who had lost five sons in the
+war.
+
+Over and over she read its sentences until they echoed as solemn music in
+her soul:
+
+"I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should
+attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I
+cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the
+thanks of the republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father
+may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the
+cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be
+yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.
+
+"Yours very sincerely and respectfully,
+
+"ABRAHAM LINCOLN."
+
+"And the President paused amid a thousand cares to write that letter to a
+broken-hearted woman?" the mother asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then he is good down to the last secret depths of a great heart! Only a
+Christian father could have written that letter. I shall not be afraid to
+speak to him. And they told me he was an infidel!"
+
+Elsie led her by a private way past the crowd and into the office of Major
+Hay, the President's private secretary. A word from the Great Commoner's
+daughter admitted them at once to the President's room.
+
+"Just take a seat on one side, Miss Elsie," said Major Hay; "watch your
+first opportunity and introduce your friend."
+
+On entering the room, Mrs. Cameron could not see the President, who was
+seated at his desk surrounded by three men in deep consultation over a
+mass of official documents.
+
+She looked about the room nervously and felt reassured by its plain
+aspect. It was a medium-sized, officelike place, with no signs of elegance
+or ceremony. Mr. Lincoln was seated in an armchair beside a high
+writing-desk and table combined. She noticed that his feet were large and
+that they rested on a piece of simple straw matting. Around the room were
+sofas and chairs covered with green worsted.
+
+When the group about the chair parted a moment, she caught the first
+glimpse of the man who held her life in the hollow of his hand. She
+studied him with breathless interest. His back was still turned. Even
+while seated, she saw that he was a man of enormous stature, fully six
+feet four inches tall, legs and arms abnormally long, and huge broad
+shoulders slightly stooped. His head was powerful and crowned with a mass
+of heavy brown hair, tinged with silver.
+
+He turned his head slightly and she saw his profile set in its short dark
+beard--the broad intellectual brow, half covered by unmanageable hair, his
+face marked with deep-cut lines of life and death, with great hollows in
+the cheeks and under the eyes. In the lines which marked the corners of
+his mouth she could see firmness, and his beetling brows and unusually
+heavy eyelids looked stern and formidable. Her heart sank. She looked
+again and saw goodness, tenderness, sorrow, canny shrewdness, and a
+strange lurking smile all haunting his mouth and eye.
+
+Suddenly he threw himself forward in his chair, wheeled and faced one of
+his tormentors with a curious and comical expression. With one hand
+patting the other, and a funny look overspreading his face, he said:
+
+"My friend, let me tell you something----"
+
+The man again stepped before him, and she could hear nothing. When the
+story was finished, the man tried to laugh. It died in a feeble effort.
+But the President laughed heartily, laughed all over, and laughed his
+visitors out of the room.
+
+Mrs. Cameron turned toward Elsie with a mute look of appeal to give her
+this moment of good-humour in which to plead her cause, but before she
+could move a man of military bearing suddenly stepped before the
+President.
+
+He began to speak, but seeing the look of stern decision in Mr. Lincoln's
+face, turned abruptly and said:
+
+"Mr. President, I see you are fully determined not to do me justice!"
+
+Mr. Lincoln slightly compressed his lips, rose quietly, seized the
+intruder by the arm, and led him toward the door.
+
+"This is the third time you have forced your presence on me, sir, asking
+that I reverse the just sentence of a court-martial, dismissing you from
+the service. I told you my decision was carefully made and was final. Now
+I give you fair warning never to show yourself in this room again. I can
+bear censure, but I will not endure insult!"
+
+In whining tones the man begged for his papers he had dropped.
+
+"Begone, sir," said the President, as he thrust him through the door.
+"Your papers will be sent to you."
+
+The poor mother trembled at this startling act and sank back limp in her
+seat.
+
+With quick, swinging stride the President walked back to his desk,
+accompanied by Major Hay and a young German girl, whose simple dress told
+that she was from the Western plains.
+
+He handed the secretary an official paper.
+
+"Give this pardon to the boy's mother when she comes this morning," he
+said kindly to the secretary, his eyes suddenly full of gentleness.
+
+"How could I consent to shoot a boy raised on a farm, in the habit of
+going to bed at dark, for falling asleep at his post when required to
+watch all night? I'll never go into eternity with the blood of such a boy
+on my skirts."
+
+Again the mother's heart rose.
+
+"You remember the young man I pardoned for a similar offence in '62, about
+which Stanton made such a fuss?" he went on in softly reminiscent tones.
+"Well, here is that pardon."
+
+He drew from the lining of his silk hat a photograph, around which was
+wrapped an executive pardon. Through the lower end of it was a bullet-hole
+stained with blood.
+
+"I got this in Richmond. They found him dead on the field. He fell in the
+front ranks with my photograph in his pocket next to his heart, this
+pardon wrapped around it, and on the back of it in his boy's scrawl, '_God
+bless Abraham Lincoln_.' I love to invest in bonds like that."
+
+The secretary returned to his room, the girl who was waiting stepped
+forward, and the President rose to receive her.
+
+The mother's quick eye noted, with surprise, the simple dignity and
+chivalry of manner with which he received this humble woman of the
+people.
+
+With straightforward eloquence the girl poured out her story, begging for
+the pardon of her young brother who had been sentenced to death as a
+deserter. He listened in silence.
+
+How pathetic the deep melancholy of his sad face! Yes, she was sure, the
+saddest face that God ever made in all the world! Her own stricken heart
+for a moment went out to him in sympathy.
+
+The President took off his spectacles, wiped his forehead with the large
+red silk handkerchief he carried, and his eyes twinkled kindly down into
+the good German face.
+
+"You seem an honest, truthful, sweet girl," he said, "and"--he
+smiled--"you don't wear hoop skirts! I may be whipped for this, but I'll
+trust you and your brother, too. He shall be pardoned." Elsie rose to
+introduce Mrs. Cameron, when a Congressman from Massachusetts suddenly
+stepped before her and pressed for the pardon of a slave trader whose ship
+had been confiscated. He had spent five years in prison, but could not pay
+the heavy fine in money imposed.
+
+The President had taken his seat again, and read the eloquent appeal for
+mercy. He looked up over his spectacles, fixed his eyes piercingly on the
+Congressman and said:
+
+"This is a moving appeal, sir, expressed with great eloquence. I might
+pardon a murderer under the spell of such words, but a man who can make a
+business of going to Africa and robbing her of her helpless children and
+selling them into bondage--no, sir--he may rot in jail before he shall
+have liberty by any act of mine!"
+
+Again the mother's heart sank.
+
+Her hour had come. She must put the issue of life or death to the test,
+and as Elsie rose and stepped quickly forward, she followed; nerving
+herself for the ordeal.
+
+The President took Elsie's hand familiarly and smiled without rising.
+Evidently she was well known to him.
+
+"Will you hear the prayer of a broken-hearted mother of the South, who has
+lost four sons in General Lee's army?" she asked.
+
+Looking quietly past the girl, he caught sight, for the first time, of the
+faded dress and the sorrow-shadowed face.
+
+He was on his feet in a moment, extended his hand and led her to a chair.
+
+"Take this seat, Madam, and then tell me in your own way what I can do for
+you." In simple words, mighty with the eloquence of a mother's heart, she
+told her story and asked for the pardon of her boy, promising his word of
+honour and her own that he would never again take up arms against the
+Union.
+
+"The war is over now, Mr. Lincoln," she said, "and we have lost all. Can
+you conceive the desolation of _my_ heart? My four boys were noble men.
+They may have been wrong, but they fought for what they believed to be
+right. You, too, have lost a boy."
+
+The President's eyes grew dim.
+
+"Yes, a beautiful boy----" he said simply.
+
+"Well, mine are all gone but this baby. One of them sleeps in an unmarked
+grave at Gettysburg. One died in a Northern prison. One fell at
+Chancellorsville, one in the Wilderness, and this, my baby, before
+Petersburg. Perhaps I've loved him too much, this last one--he's only a
+child yet----"
+
+"You shall have your boy, my dear Madam," the President said simply,
+seating himself and writing a brief order to the Secretary of War.
+
+The mother drew near his desk, softly crying. Through her tears she said:
+
+"My heart is heavy, Mr. Lincoln, when I think of all the hard and bitter
+things we have heard of you."
+
+"Well, give my love to the people of South Carolina when you go home, and
+tell them that I am their President, and that I have never forgotten this
+fact in the darkest hours of this awful war; and I am going to do
+everything in my power to help them." "You will never regret this generous
+act," the mother cried with gratitude.
+
+"I reckon not," he answered. "I'll tell you something, Madam, if you won't
+tell anybody. It's a secret of my administration. I'm only too glad of an
+excuse to save a life when I can. Every drop of blood shed in this war
+North and South has been as if it were wrung out of my heart. A strange
+fate decreed that the bloodiest war in human history should be fought
+under my direction. And I--to whom the sight of blood is a sickening
+horror--I have been compelled to look on in silent anguish because I could
+not stop it! Now that the Union is saved, not another drop of blood shall
+be spilled if I can prevent it."
+
+"May God bless you!" the mother cried, as she received from him the
+order.
+
+She held his hand an instant as she took her leave, laughing and sobbing
+in her great joy.
+
+"I must tell you, Mr. President," she said, "how surprised and how pleased
+I am to find you are a Southern man."
+
+"Why, didn't you know that my parents were Virginians, and that I was born
+in Kentucky?"
+
+"Very few people in the South know it. I am ashamed to say I did not."
+
+"Then, how did you know I am a Southerner?"
+
+"By your looks, your manner of speech, your easy, kindly ways, your
+tenderness and humour, your firmness in the right as you see it, and,
+above all, the way you rose and bowed to a woman in an old, faded black
+dress, whom you knew to be an enemy." "No, Madam, not an enemy now," he
+said softly. "That word is out of date."
+
+"If we had only known you in time----"
+
+The President accompanied her to the door with a deference of manner that
+showed he had been deeply touched.
+
+"Take this letter to Mr. Stanton at once," he said. "Some folks complain
+of my pardons, but it rests me after a hard day's work if I can save some
+poor boy's life. I go to bed happy, thinking of the joy I have given to
+those who love him."
+
+As the last words were spoken, a peculiar dreaminess of expression stole
+over his careworn face, as if a throng of gracious memories had lifted for
+a moment the burden of his life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE MAN OF WAR
+
+
+Elsie led Mrs. Cameron direct from the White House to the War Department.
+
+"Well, Mrs. Cameron, what did you think of the President?" she asked.
+
+"I hardly know," was the thoughtful answer. "He is the greatest man I ever
+met. One feels this instinctively."
+
+When Mrs. Cameron was ushered into the Secretary's Office, Mr. Stanton was
+seated at his desk writing.
+
+She handed the order of the President to a clerk, who gave it to the
+Secretary.
+
+He was a man in the full prime of life, intellectual and physical, low and
+heavy set, about five feet eight inches in height and inclined to fat. His
+movements, however, were quick, and as he swung in his chair the keenest
+vigour marked every movement of body and every change of his countenance.
+
+His face was swarthy and covered with a long, dark beard touched with
+gray. He turned a pair of little black piercing eyes on her and without
+rising said:
+
+"So you are the woman who has a wounded son under sentence of death as a
+guerilla?"
+
+"I am so unfortunate," she answered.
+
+"Well, I have nothing to say to you," he went on in a louder and sterner
+tone, "and no time to waste on you. If you have raised up men to rebel
+against the best government under the sun, you can take the
+consequences----"
+
+"But, my dear sir," broke in the mother, "he is a mere boy of nineteen,
+who ran away three years ago and entered the service----"
+
+"I don't want to hear another word from you!" he yelled in rage. "I have
+no time to waste--go at once. I'll do nothing for you."
+
+"But I bring you an order from the President," protested the mother.
+
+"Yes, I know it," he answered with a sneer, "and I'll do with it what I've
+done with many others--see that it is not executed--now go."
+
+"But the President told me you would give me a pass to the hospital, and
+that a full pardon would be issued to my boy!"
+
+"Yes, I see. But let me give you some information. The President is a
+fool--a d---- fool! Now, will you go?"
+
+With a sinking sense of horror, Mrs. Cameron withdrew and reported to
+Elsie the unexpected encounter.
+
+"The brute!" cried the girl. "We'll go back immediately and report this
+insult to the President."
+
+"Why are such men intrusted with power?" the mother sighed.
+
+"It's a mystery to me, I'm sure. They say he is the greatest Secretary of
+War in our history. I don't believe it. Phil hates the sight of him, and
+so does every army officer I know, from General Grant down. I hope Mr.
+Lincoln will expel him from the Cabinet for this insult."
+
+When, they were again ushered into the President's office, Elsie hastened
+to inform him of the outrageous reply the Secretary of War had made to his
+order.
+
+"Did Stanton say that I was a fool?" he asked, with a quizzical look out
+of his kindly eyes.
+
+"Yes, he did," snapped Elsie. "And he repeated it with a blankety
+prefix."
+
+The President looked good-humouredly out of the window toward the War
+Office and musingly said:
+
+"Well, if Stanton says that I am a blankety fool, it must be so, for I
+have found out that he is nearly always right, and generally means what he
+says. I'll just step over and see Stanton."
+
+As he spoke the last sentence, the humour slowly faded from his face, and
+the anxious mother saw back of those patient gray eyes the sudden gleam of
+the courage and conscious power of a lion.
+
+He dismissed them with instructions to return the next day for his final
+orders and walked over to the War Department alone.
+
+The Secretary of War was in one of his ugliest moods, and made no effort
+to conceal it when asked his reasons for the refusal to execute the
+order.
+
+"The grounds for my action are very simple," he said with bitter emphasis.
+"The execution of this traitor is part of a carefully considered policy of
+justice on which the future security of the Nation depends. If I am to
+administer this office, I will not be hamstrung by constant Executive
+interference. Besides, in this particular case, I was urged that justice
+be promptly executed by the most powerful man in Congress. I advise you to
+avoid a quarrel with old Stoneman at this crisis in our history."
+
+The President sat on a sofa with his legs crossed, relapsed into an
+attitude of resignation, and listened in silence until the last sentence,
+when suddenly he sat bolt upright, fixed his deep gray eyes intently on
+Stanton and said:
+
+"Mr. Secretary, I reckon you will have to execute that order."
+
+"I cannot do it," came the firm answer. "It is an interference with
+justice, and I will not execute it."
+
+Mr. Lincoln held his eyes steadily on Stanton and slowly said:
+
+"Mr. Secretary, it will have to be done."
+
+Stanton wheeled in his chair, seized a pen and wrote very rapidly a few
+lines to which he fixed his signature. He rose with the paper in his hand,
+walked to his chief, and with deep emotion said:
+
+"Mr. President, I wish to thank you for your constant friendship during
+the trying years I have held this office. The war is ended, and my work is
+done. I hand you my resignation."
+
+Mr. Lincoln's lips came suddenly together, he slowly rose, and looked down
+with surprise into the flushed angry face.
+
+He took the paper, tore it into pieces, slipped one of his long arms
+around the Secretary, and said in low accents:
+
+"Stanton, you have been a faithful public servant, and it is not for you
+to say when you will no longer be needed. Go on with your work. I will
+have my way in this matter; but I will attend to it personally."
+
+Stanton resumed his seat, and the President returned to the White House.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A CLASH OF GIANTS
+
+
+Elsie secured from the Surgeon-General temporary passes for the day, and
+sent her friends to the hospital with the promise that she would not leave
+the White House until she had secured the pardon.
+
+The President greeted her with unusual warmth. The smile that had only
+haunted his sad face during four years of struggle, defeat, and
+uncertainty had now burst into joy that made his powerful head radiate
+light. Victory had lifted the veil from his soul, and he was girding
+himself for the task of healing the Nation's wounds.
+
+"I'll have it ready for you in a moment, Miss Elsie," he said, touching
+with his sinewy hand a paper which lay on his desk, bearing on its face
+the red seal of the Republic. "I am only waiting to receive the passes."
+
+"I am very grateful to you, Mr. President," the girl said feelingly.
+
+"But tell me," he said, with quaint, fatherly humour, "why you, of all our
+girls, the brightest, fiercest little Yankee in town, so take to heart a
+rebel boy's sorrows?"
+
+Elsie blushed, and then looked at him frankly with a saucy smile.
+
+"I am fulfilling the Commandments."
+
+"Love your enemies?"
+
+"Certainly. How could one help loving the sweet, motherly face you saw
+yesterday."
+
+The President laughed heartily. "I see--of course, of course!"
+
+"The Honourable Austin Stoneman," suddenly announced a clerk at his
+elbow.
+
+Elsie started in surprise and whispered:
+
+"Do not let my father know I am here. I will wait in the next room. You'll
+let nothing delay the pardon, will you, Mr. President?"
+
+Mr. Lincoln warmly pressed her hand as she disappeared through the door
+leading into Major Hay's room, and turned to meet the Great Commoner who
+hobbled slowly in, leaning on his crooked cane.
+
+At this moment he was a startling and portentous figure in the drama of
+the Nation, the most powerful parliamentary leader in American history,
+not excepting Henry Clay.
+
+No stranger ever passed this man without a second look. His clean-shaven
+face, the massive chiselled features, his grim eagle look, and cold,
+colourless eyes, with the frosts of his native Vermont sparkling in their
+depths, compelled attention.
+
+His walk was a painful hobble. He was lame in both feet, and one of them
+was deformed. The left leg ended in a mere bunch of flesh, resembling more
+closely an elephant's hoof than the foot of a man.
+
+He was absolutely bald, and wore a heavy brown wig that seemed too small
+to reach the edge of his enormous forehead.
+
+He rarely visited the White House. He was the able, bold, unscrupulous
+leader of leaders, and men came to see him. He rarely smiled, and when he
+did it was the smile of the cynic and misanthrope. His tongue had the lash
+of a scorpion. He was a greater terror to the trimmers and time-servers of
+his own party than to his political foes. He had hated the President with
+sullen, consistent, and unyielding venom from his first nomination at
+Chicago down to the last rumour of his new proclamation.
+
+In temperament a fanatic, in impulse a born revolutionist, the word
+conservatism was to him as a red rag to a bull. The first clash of arms
+was music to his soul. He laughed at the call for 75,000 volunteers, and
+demanded the immediate equipment of an army of a million men. He saw it
+grow to 2,000,000. From the first, his eagle eye had seen the end and all
+the long, blood-marked way between. And from the first, he began to plot
+the most cruel and awful vengeance in human history.
+
+And now his time had come.
+
+The giant figure in the White House alone had dared to brook his anger and
+block the way; for old Stoneman was the Congress of the United States. The
+opposition was too weak even for his contempt. Cool, deliberate, and
+venomous alike in victory or defeat, the fascination of his positive faith
+and revolutionary programme had drawn the rank and file of his party in
+Congress to him as charmed satellites.
+
+The President greeted him cordially, and with his habitual deference to
+age and physical infirmity hastened to place for him an easy chair near
+his desk.
+
+He was breathing heavily and evidently labouring under great emotion. He
+brought his cane to the floor with violence, placed both hands on its
+crook, leaned his massive jaws on his hands for a moment, and then said:
+
+"Mr. President, I have not annoyed you with many requests during the past
+four years, nor am I here to-day to ask any favours. I have come to warn
+you that, in the course you have mapped out, the executive and legislative
+branches have come to the parting of the ways, and that your encroachments
+on the functions of Congress will be tolerated, now that the Rebellion is
+crushed, not for a single moment!"
+
+Mr. Lincoln listened with dignity, and a ripple of fun played about his
+eyes as he looked at his grim visitor. The two men were face to face at
+last--the two men above all others who had built and were to build the
+foundations of the New Nation--Lincoln's in love and wisdom to endure
+forever, the Great Commoner's in hate and madness, to bear its harvest of
+tragedy and death for generations yet unborn.
+
+"Well, now, Stoneman," began the good-humoured voice, "that puts me in
+mind----"
+
+The old Commoner lifted his hand with a gesture of angry impatience:
+
+"Save your fables for fools. Is it true that you have prepared a
+proclamation restoring the conquered province of North Carolina to its
+place as a State in the Union with no provision for negro suffrage or the
+exile and disfranchisement of its rebels?"
+
+The President rose and walked back and forth with his hands folded behind
+him before answering.
+
+"I have. The Constitution grants to the National Government no power to
+regulate suffrage, and makes no provision for the control of 'conquered
+provinces.'"
+
+"Constitution!" thundered Stoneman. "I have a hundred constitutions in the
+pigeonholes of my desk!"
+
+"I have sworn to support but one."
+
+"A worn-out rag----"
+
+"Rag or silk, I've sworn to execute it, and I'll do it, so help me God!"
+said the quiet voice.
+
+"You've been doing it for the past four years, haven't you!" sneered the
+Commoner. "What right had you under the Constitution to declare war
+against a 'sovereign' State? To invade one for coercion? To blockade a
+port? To declare slaves free? To suspend the writ of _habeas corpus_? To
+create the State of West Virginia by the consent of two states, one of
+which was dead, and the other one of which lived in Ohio? By what
+authority have you appointed military governors in the 'sovereign' States
+of Virginia, Tennessee, and Louisiana? Why trim the hedge and lie about
+it? We, too, are revolutionists, and you are our executive. The
+Constitution sustained and protected slavery. It _was_ 'a league with
+death and a covenant with hell,' and our flag 'a polluted rag!'"
+
+"In the stress of war," said the President, with a far-away look, "it was
+necessary that I do things as Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy to
+save the Union which I have no right to do now that the Union is saved and
+its Constitution preserved. My first duty is to re-establish the
+Constitution as our supreme law over every inch of our soil."
+
+"The Constitution be d----d!" hissed the old man. "It was the creation,
+both in letter and spirit, of the slaveholders of the South."
+
+"Then the world is their debtor, and their work is a monument of
+imperishable glory to them and to their children. I have sworn to preserve
+it!"
+
+"We have outgrown the swaddling clothes of a babe. We will make new
+constitutions!"
+
+"'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,'" softly spoke the tall,
+self-contained man.
+
+For the first time the old leader winced. He had long ago exhausted the
+vocabulary of contempt on the President, his character, ability, and
+policy. He felt as a shock the first impression of supreme authority with
+which he spoke. The man he had despised had grown into the great
+constructive statesman who would dispute with him every inch of ground in
+the attainment of his sinister life purpose.
+
+His hatred grew more intense as he realized the prestige and power with
+which he was clothed by his mighty office.
+
+With an effort he restrained his anger, and assumed an argumentative
+tone.
+
+"Can't you see that your so-called States are now but conquered provinces?
+That North Carolina and other waste territories of the United States are
+unfit to associate with civilized communities?"
+
+"We fought no war of conquest," quietly urged the President, "but one of
+self-preservation as an indissoluble Union. No State ever got out of it,
+by the grace of God and the power of our arms. Now that we have won, and
+established for all time its unity, shall we stultify ourselves by
+declaring we were wrong? These States must be immediately restored to
+their rights, or we shall betray the blood we have shed. There are no
+'conquered provinces' for us to spoil. A nation cannot make conquest of
+its own territory."
+
+"But we are acting outside the Constitution," interrupted Stoneman.
+
+"Congress has no existence outside the Constitution," was the quick
+answer.
+
+The old Commoner scowled, and his beetling brows hid for a moment his
+eyes. His keen intellect was catching its first glimpse of the
+intellectual grandeur of the man with whom he was grappling. The facility
+with which he could see all sides of a question, and the vivid imagination
+which lit his mental processes, were a revelation. We always underestimate
+the men we despise.
+
+"Why not out with it?" cried Stoneman, suddenly changing his tack. "You
+are determined to oppose negro suffrage?"
+
+"I have suggested to Governor Hahn of Louisiana to consider the policy of
+admitting the more intelligent and those who served in the war. It is only
+a suggestion. The State alone has the power to confer the ballot."
+
+"But the truth is this little 'suggestion' of yours is only a bone thrown
+to radical dogs to satisfy our howlings for the moment! In your soul of
+souls you don't believe in the equality of man if the man under comparison
+be a negro?"
+
+"I believe that there is a physical difference between the white and black
+races which will forever forbid their living together on terms of
+political and social equality. If such be attempted, one must go to the
+wall."
+
+"Very well, pin the Southern white man to the wall. Our party and the
+Nation will then be safe."
+
+"That is to say, destroy African slavery and establish white slavery under
+negro masters! That would be progress with a vengeance."
+
+A grim smile twitched the old man's lips as he said:
+
+"Yes, your prim conservative snobs and male waiting-maids in Congress went
+into hysterics when I armed the negroes. Yet the heavens have not
+fallen."
+
+"True. Yet no more insane blunder could now be made than any further
+attempt to use these negro troops. There can be no such thing as restoring
+this Union to its basis of fraternal peace with armed negroes, wearing the
+uniform of this Nation, tramping over the South, and rousing the basest
+passions of the freedmen and their former masters. General Butler, their
+old commander, is now making plans for their removal, at my request. He
+expects to dig the Panama Canal with these black troops."
+
+"Fine scheme that--on a par with your messages to Congress asking for the
+colonization of the whole negro race!"
+
+"It will come to that ultimately," said the President firmly. "The negro
+has cost us $5,000,000,000, the desolation of ten great States, and rivers
+of blood. We can well afford a few million dollars more to effect a
+permanent settlement of the issue. This is the only policy on which Seward
+and I have differed----"
+
+"Then Seward was not an utterly hopeless fool. I'm glad to hear something
+to his credit," growled the old Commoner.
+
+"I have urged the colonization of the negroes, and I shall continue until
+it is accomplished. My emancipation proclamation was linked with this
+plan. Thousands of them have lived in the North for a hundred years, yet
+not one is the pastor of a white church, a judge, a governor, a mayor, or
+a college president. There is no room for two distinct races of white men
+in America, much less for two distinct races of whites and blacks. We can
+have no inferior servile class, peon or peasant. We must assimilate or
+expel. The American is a citizen king or nothing. I can conceive of no
+greater calamity than the assimilation of the negro into our social and
+political life as our equal. A mulatto citizenship would be too dear a
+price to pay even for emancipation."
+
+"Words have no power to express my loathing for such twaddle!" cried
+Stoneman, snapping his great jaws together and pursing his lips with
+contempt.
+
+"If the negro were not here would we allow him to land?" the President
+went on, as if talking to himself. "The duty to exclude carries the right
+to expel. Within twenty years we can peacefully colonize the negro in the
+tropics, and give him our language, literature, religion, and system of
+government under conditions in which he can rise to the full measure of
+manhood. This he can never do here. It was the fear of the black tragedy
+behind emancipation that led the South into the insanity of secession. We
+can never attain the ideal Union our fathers dreamed, with millions of an
+alien, inferior race among us, whose assimilation is neither possible nor
+desirable. The Nation cannot now exist half white and half black, any more
+than it could exist half slave and half free."
+
+"Yet 'God hath made of one blood all races,'" quoted the cynic with a
+sneer.
+
+"Yes--but finish the sentence--'and fixed the bounds of their habitation.'
+God never meant that the negro should leave his habitat or the white man
+invade his home. Our violation of this law is written in two centuries of
+shame and blood. And the tragedy will not be closed until the black man is
+restored to his home."
+
+"I marvel that the minions of slavery elected Jeff Davis their chief with
+so much better material at hand!"
+
+"His election was a tragic and superfluous blunder. I am the President of
+the United States, North and South," was the firm reply.
+
+"Particularly the South!" hissed Stoneman. "During all this hideous war
+they have been your pets--these rebel savages who have been murdering our
+sons. You have been the ever-ready champion of traitors. And you now dare
+to bend this high office to their defence----"
+
+"My God, Stoneman, are you a man or a savage!" cried the President. "Is
+not the North equally responsible for slavery? Has not the South lost all?
+Have not the Southern people paid the full penalty of all the crimes of
+war? Are our skirts free? Was Sherman's march a picnic? This war has been
+a giant conflict of principles to decide whether we are a bundle of petty
+sovereignties held by a rope of sand or a mighty nation of freemen. But
+for the loyalty of four border Southern States--but for Farragut and
+Thomas and their two hundred thousand heroic Southern brethren who fought
+for the Union against their own flesh and blood, we should have lost. You
+cannot indict a people----"
+
+"I do indict them!" muttered the old man.
+
+"Surely," went on the even, throbbing voice, "surely, the vastness of this
+war, its titanic battles, its heroism, its sublime earnestness, should
+sink into oblivion all low schemes of vengeance! Before the sheer grandeur
+of its history our children will walk with silent lips and uncovered
+heads."
+
+"And forget the prison pen at Andersonville!"
+
+"Yes. We refused, as a policy of war, to exchange those prisoners,
+blockaded their ports, made medicine contraband, and brought the Southern
+Army itself to starvation. The prison records, when made at last for
+history, will show as many deaths on our side as on theirs."
+
+"The murderer on the gallows always wins more sympathy than his forgotten
+victim," interrupted the cynic.
+
+"The sin of vengeance is an easy one under the subtle plea of justice,"
+said the sorrowful voice. "Have we not had enough bloodshed? Is not God's
+vengeance enough? When Sherman's army swept to the sea, before him lay the
+Garden of Eden, behind him stretched a desert! A hundred years cannot give
+back to the wasted South her wealth, or two hundred years restore to her
+the lost seed treasures of her young manhood----"
+
+"The imbecility of a policy of mercy in this crisis can only mean the
+reign of treason and violence," persisted the old man, ignoring the
+President's words.
+
+"I leave my policy before the judgment bar of time, content with its
+verdict. In my place, radicalism would have driven the border States into
+the Confederacy, every Southern man back to his kinsmen, and divided the
+North itself into civil conflict. I have sought to guide and control
+public opinion into the ways on which depended our life. This rational
+flexibility of policy you and your fellow radicals have been pleased to
+call my vacillating imbecility."
+
+"And what is your message for the South?"
+
+"Simply this: 'Abolish slavery, come back home, and behave yourself.' Lee
+surrendered to our offers of peace and amnesty. In my last message to
+Congress I told the Southern people they could have peace at any moment by
+simply laying down their arms and submitting to National authority. Now
+that they have taken me at my word, shall I betray them by an ignoble
+revenge? Vengeance cannot heal and purify: it can only brutalize and
+destroy."
+
+Stoneman shuffled to his feet with impatience.
+
+"I see it is useless to argue with you. I'll not waste my breath. I give
+you an ultimatum. The South is conquered soil. I mean to blot it from the
+map. Rather than admit one traitor to the halls of Congress from these
+so-called States I will shatter the Union itself into ten thousand
+fragments! I will not sit beside men whose clothes smell of the blood of
+my kindred. At least dry them before they come in. Four years ago, with
+yells and curses, these traitors left the halls of Congress to join the
+armies of Catiline. Shall they return to rule?"
+
+"I repeat," said the President, "you cannot indict a people. Treason is an
+easy word to speak. A traitor is one who fights and loses. Washington was
+a traitor to George III. Treason won, and Washington is immortal. Treason
+is a word that victors hurl at those who fail."
+
+"Listen to me," Stoneman interrupted with vehemence. "The life of our
+party demands that the negro be given the ballot and made the ruler of the
+South. This can be done only by the extermination of its landed
+aristocracy, that their mothers shall not breed another race of traitors.
+This is not vengeance. It is justice, it is patriotism, it is the highest
+wisdom and humanity. Nature, at times, blots out whole communities and
+races that obstruct progress. Such is the political genius of these people
+that, unless you make the negro the ruler, the South will yet reconquer
+the North and undo the work of this war."
+
+"If the South in poverty and ruin can do this, we deserve to be ruled! The
+North is rich and powerful--the South a land of wreck and tomb. I greet
+with wonder, shame, and scorn such ignoble fear! The Nation cannot be
+healed until the South is healed. Let the gulf be closed in which we bury
+slavery, sectional animosity, and all strifes and hatreds. The good sense
+of our people will never consent to your scheme of insane vengeance."
+
+"The people have no sense. A new fool is born every second. They are ruled
+by impulse and passion."
+
+"I have trusted them before, and they have not failed me. The day I left
+for Gettysburg to dedicate the battlefield, you were so sure of my defeat
+in the approaching convention that you shouted across the street to a
+friend as I passed: 'Let the dead bury the dead!' It was a brilliant sally
+of wit. I laughed at it myself. And yet the people unanimously called me
+again to lead them to victory."
+
+"Yes, in the past," said Stoneman bitterly, "you have triumphed, but mark
+my word: from this hour your star grows dim. The slumbering fires of
+passion will be kindled. In the fight we join to-day I'll break your back
+and wring the neck of every dastard and time-server who fawns at your
+feet."
+
+The President broke into a laugh that only increased the old man's wrath.
+
+"I protest against the insult of your buffoonery!"
+
+"Excuse me, Stoneman; I have to laugh or die beneath the burdens I bear,
+surrounded by such supporters!"
+
+"Mark my word," growled the old leader, "from the moment you publish that
+North Carolina proclamation, your name will be a by-word in Congress."
+
+"There are higher powers."
+
+"You will need them."
+
+"I'll have help," was the calm reply, as the dreaminess of the poet and
+mystic stole over the rugged face. "I would be a presumptuous fool,
+indeed, if I thought that for a day I could discharge the duties of this
+great office without the aid of One who is wiser and stronger than all
+others."
+
+"You'll need the help of Almighty God in the course you've mapped out!"
+
+"Some ships come into port that are not steered," went on the dreamy
+voice. "Suppose Pickett had charged one hour earlier at Gettysburg?
+Suppose the _Monitor_ had arrived one hour later at Hampton Roads? I had a
+dream last night that always presages great events. I saw a white ship
+passing swiftly under full sail. I have often seen her before. I have
+never known her port of entry, or her destination, but I have always known
+her Pilot!"
+
+The cynic's lips curled with scorn. He leaned heavily on his cane, and
+took a shambling step toward the door.
+
+"You refuse to heed the wishes of Congress?"
+
+"If your words voice them, yes. Force your scheme of revenge on the South,
+and you sow the wind to reap the whirlwind."
+
+"Indeed! and from what secret cave will this whirlwind come?"
+
+"The despair of a mighty race of world-conquering men, even in defeat, is
+still a force that statesmen reckon with."
+
+"I defy them," growled the old Commoner.
+
+Again the dreamy look returned to Lincoln's face, and he spoke as if
+repeating a message of the soul caught in the clouds in an hour of
+transfiguration:
+
+"And I'll trust the honour of Lee and his people. The mystic chords of
+memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every
+living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the
+chorus of the Union, when touched again, as they surely will be, by the
+better angels of our nature."
+
+"You'll be lucky to live to hear that chorus."
+
+"To dream it is enough. If I fall by the hand of an assassin now, he will
+not come from the South. I was safer in Richmond, this week, than I am in
+Washington, to-day."
+
+The cynic grunted and shuffled another step toward the door.
+
+The President came closer.
+
+"Look here, Stoneman; have you some deep personal motive in this vengeance
+on the South? Come, now, I've never in my life known you to tell a lie."
+
+The answer was silence and a scowl.
+
+"Am I right?"
+
+"Yes and no. I hate the South because I hate the Satanic Institution of
+Slavery with consuming fury. It has long ago rotted the heart out of the
+Southern people. Humanity cannot live in its tainted air, and its children
+are doomed. If my personal wrongs have ordained me for a mighty task, no
+matter; I am simply the chosen instrument of Justice!"
+
+Again the mystic light clothed the rugged face, calm and patient as
+Destiny, as the President slowly repeated:
+
+"With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the
+right, as God gives me to see the right, I shall strive to finish the work
+we are in, and bind up the Nation's wounds."
+
+"I've given you fair warning," cried the old Commoner, trembling with
+rage, as he hobbled nearer the door. "From this hour your administration
+is doomed."
+
+"Stoneman," said the kindly voice, "I can't tell you how your venomous
+philanthropy sickens me. You have misunderstood and abused me at every
+step during the past four years. I bear you no ill will. If I have said
+anything to-day to hurt your feelings, forgive me. The earnestness with
+which you pressed the war was an invaluable service to me and to the
+Nation. I'd rather work with you than fight you. But now that we have to
+fight, I'd as well tell you I'm not afraid of you. I'll suffer my right
+arm to be severed from my body before I'll sign one measure of ignoble
+revenge on a brave, fallen foe, and I'll keep up this fight until I win,
+die, or my country forsakes me."
+
+"I have always known you had a sneaking admiration for the South," came
+the sullen sneer.
+
+"I love the South! It is a part of this Union. I love every foot of its
+soil, every hill and valley, mountain, lake, and sea, and every man,
+woman, and child that breathes beneath its skies. I am an American."
+
+As the burning words leaped from the heart of the President the broad
+shoulders of his tall form lifted, and his massive head rose in
+unconscious heroic pose.
+
+"I marvel that you ever made war upon your loved ones!" cried the cynic.
+
+"We fought the South because we loved her and would not let her go. Now
+that she is crushed and lies bleeding at our feet--you shall not make war
+on the wounded, dying, and the dead!"
+
+Again the lion gleamed in the calm gray eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE BATTLE OF LOVE
+
+
+Elsie carried Ben Cameron's pardon to the anxious mother and sister with
+her mind in a tumult. The name on these fateful papers fascinated her. She
+read it again and again with a curious personal joy that she had saved a
+life!
+
+She had entered on her work among the hospitals a bitter partisan of her
+father's school, with the simple idea that all Southerners were savage
+brutes. Yet as she had seen the wounded boys from the South among the men
+in blue, more and more she had forgotten the difference between them. They
+were so young, these slender, dark-haired ones from Dixie--so pitifully
+young! Some of them were only fifteen, and hundreds not over sixteen. A
+lad of fourteen she had kissed one day in sheer agony of pity for his
+loneliness.
+
+The part her father was playing in the drama on which Ben Cameron's life
+had hung puzzled her. Was his the mysterious arm back of Stanton? Echoes
+of the fierce struggle with the President had floated through the
+half-open door.
+
+She had implicit faith in her father's patriotism and pride in his giant
+intellect. She knew that he was a king among men by divine right of
+inherent power. His sensitive spirit, brooding over a pitiful lameness,
+had hidden from the world behind a frowning brow like a wounded animal.
+Yet her hand in hours of love, when no eye save God's could see, had led
+his great soul out of its dark lair. She loved him with brooding
+tenderness, knowing that she had gotten closer to his inner life than any
+other human being--closer than her own mother, who had died while she was
+a babe. Her aunt, with whom she and Phil now lived, had told her the
+mother's life was not a happy one. Their natures had not proved congenial,
+and her gentle Quaker spirit had died of grief in the quiet home in
+southern Pennsylvania.
+
+Yet there were times when he was a stranger even to her. Some secret, dark
+and cold, stood between them. Once she had tenderly asked him what it
+meant. He merely pressed her hand, smiled wearily, and said:
+
+"Nothing, my dear, only the Blue Devils after me again."
+
+He had always lived in Washington in a little house with black shutters,
+near the Capitol, while the children had lived with his sister, near the
+White House, where they had grown from babyhood.
+
+A curious fact about this place on the Capitol hill was that his
+housekeeper, Lydia Brown, was a mulatto, a woman of extraordinary animal
+beauty and the fiery temper of a leopardess. Elsie had ventured there once
+and got such a welcome she would never return. All sorts of gossip could
+be heard in Washington about this woman, her jewels, her dresses, her
+airs, her assumption of the dignity of the presiding genius of National
+legislation and her domination of the old Commoner and his life. It
+gradually crept into the newspapers and magazines, but he never once
+condescended to notice it.
+
+Elsie begged her father to close this house and live with them.
+
+His reply was short and emphatic:
+
+"Impossible, my child. This club foot must live next door to the Capitol.
+My house is simply an executive office at which I sleep. Half the business
+of the Nation is transacted there. Don't mention this subject again."
+
+Elsie choked back a sob at the cold menace in the tones of this command,
+and never repeated her request. It was the only wish he had ever denied
+her, and, somehow, her heart would come back to it with persistence and
+brood and wonder over his motive.
+
+The nearer she drew, this morning, to the hospital door, the closer the
+wounded boy's life and loved ones seemed to hers. She thought with anguish
+of the storm about to break between her father and the President--the one
+demanding the desolation of their land, wasted, harried, and unarmed!--the
+President firm in his policy of mercy, generosity, and healing.
+
+Her father would not mince words. His scorpion tongue, set on fires of
+hell, might start a conflagration that would light the Nation with its
+glare. Would not his name be a terror for every man and woman born under
+Southern skies? The sickening feeling stole over her that he was wrong,
+and his policy cruel and unjust.
+
+She had never before admired the President. It was fashionable to speak
+with contempt of him in Washington. He had little following in Congress.
+Nine tenths of the politicians hated or feared him, and she knew her
+father had been the soul of a conspiracy at the Capitol to prevent his
+second nomination and create a dictatorship, under which to carry out an
+iron policy of reconstruction in the South. And now she found herself
+heart and soul the champion of the President.
+
+She was ashamed of her disloyalty, and felt a rush of impetuous anger
+against Ben and his people for thrusting themselves between her and her
+own. Yet how absurd to feel thus against the innocent victims of a great
+tragedy! She put the thought from her. Still she must part from them now
+before the brewing storm burst. It would be best for her and best for
+them. This pardon delivered would end their relations. She would send the
+papers by a messenger and not see them again. And then she thought with a
+throb of girlish pride of the hour to come in the future when Ben's big
+brown eyes would be softened with a tear when he would learn that she had
+saved his life. They had concealed all from him as yet.
+
+She was afraid to question too closely in her own heart the shadowy motive
+that lay back of her joy. She read again with a lingering smile the name
+"Ben Cameron" on the paper with its big red Seal of Life. She had laughed
+at boys who had made love to her, dreaming a wider, nobler life of heroic
+service. And she felt that she was fulfilling her ideal in the generous
+hand she had extended to these who were friendless. Were they not the
+children of her soul in that larger, finer world of which she had dreamed
+and sung? Why should she give them up now for brutal politics? Their
+sorrow had been hers, their joy should be hers, too. She would take the
+papers herself and then say good-bye.
+
+She found the mother and sister beside the cot. Ben was sleeping with
+Margaret holding one of his hands. The mother was busy sewing for the
+wounded Confederate boys she had found scattered through the hospital.
+
+At the sight of Elsie holding aloft the message of life she sprang to meet
+her with a cry of joy.
+
+She clasped the girl to her breast, unable to speak. At last she released
+her and said with a sob:
+
+"My child, through good report and through evil report my love will enfold
+you!"
+
+Elsie stammered, looked away, and tried to hide her emotion. Margaret had
+knelt and bowed her head on Ben's cot. She rose at length, threw her arms
+around Elsie in a resistless impulse, kissed her and whispered:
+
+"My sweet sister!"
+
+Elsie's heart leaped at the words, as her eyes rested on the face of the
+sleeping soldier.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE ASSASSINATION
+
+
+Elsie called in the afternoon at the Camerons' lodgings, radiant with
+pride, accompanied by her brother.
+
+Captain Phil Stoneman, athletic, bronzed, a veteran of two years' service,
+dressed in his full uniform, was the ideal soldier, and yet he had never
+loved war. He was bubbling over with quiet joy that the end had come and
+he could soon return to a rational life. Inheriting his mother's
+temperament, he was generous, enterprising, quick, intelligent, modest,
+and ambitious. War had seemed to him a horrible tragedy from the first. He
+had early learned to respect a brave foe, and bitterness had long since
+melted out of his heart.
+
+He had laughed at his father's harsh ideas of Southern life gained as a
+politician, and, while loyal to him after a boy's fashion, he took no
+stock in his Radical programme.
+
+The father, colossal egotist that he was, heard Phil's protests with mild
+amusement and quiet pride in his independence, for he loved this boy with
+deep tenderness.
+
+Phil had been touched by the story of Ben's narrow escape, and was anxious
+to show his mother and sister every courtesy possible in part atonement
+for the wrong he felt had been done them. He was timid with girls, and yet
+he wished to give Margaret a cordial greeting for Elsie's sake. He was not
+prepared for the shock the first appearance of the Southern girl gave
+him.
+
+When the stately figure swept through the door to greet him, her black
+eyes sparkling with welcome, her voice low and tender with genuine
+feeling, he caught his breath in surprise.
+
+Elsie noted his confusion with amusement and said:
+
+"I must go to the hospital for a little work. Now, Phil, I'll meet you at
+the door at eight o'clock."
+
+"I'll not forget," he answered abstractedly, watching Margaret intently as
+she walked with Elsie to the door.
+
+He saw that her dress was of coarse, unbleached cotton, dyed with the
+juice of walnut hulls and set with wooden hand-made buttons. The story
+these things told of war and want was eloquent, yet she wore them with
+unconscious dignity. She had not a pin or brooch or piece of jewellery.
+Everything about her was plain and smooth, graceful and gracious. Her face
+was large--the lovely oval type--and her luxuriant hair, parted in the
+middle, fell downward in two great waves. Tall, stately, handsome, her
+dark rare Southern beauty full of subtle languor and indolent grace, she
+was to Phil a revelation.
+
+The coarse black dress that clung closely to her figure seemed alive when
+she moved, vital with her beauty. The musical cadences of her voice were
+vibrant with feeling, sweet, tender, and homelike. And the odour of the
+rose she wore pinned low on her breast he could swear was the perfume of
+her breath.
+
+Lingering in her eyes and echoing in the tones of her voice, he caught the
+shadowy memory of tears for the loved and lost that gave a strange pathos
+and haunting charm to her youth.
+
+She had returned quickly and was talking at ease with him.
+
+"I'm not going to tell you, Captain Stoneman, that I hope to be a sister
+to you. You have already made yourself my brother in what you did for
+Ben."
+
+"Nothing, I assure you, Miss Cameron, that any soldier wouldn't do for a
+brave foe."
+
+"Perhaps; but when the foe happens to be an only brother, my chum and
+playmate, brave and generous, whom I've worshipped as my beau-ideal
+man--why, you know I must thank you for taking him in your arms that day.
+May I, again?"
+
+Phil felt the soft warm hand clasp his, while the black eyes sparkled and
+glowed their friendly message.
+
+He murmured something incoherently, looked at Margaret as if in a spell,
+and forgot to let her hand go.
+
+She laughed at last, and he blushed and dropped it as though it were a
+live coal.
+
+"I was about to forget, Miss Cameron. I wish to take you to the theatre
+to-night, if you will go?"
+
+"To the theatre?"
+
+"Yes. It's to be an occasion, Elsie tells me. Laura Keene's last
+appearance in 'Our American Cousin,' and her one-thousandth performance of
+the play. She played it in Chicago at McVicker's, when the President was
+first nominated, to hundreds of the delegates who voted for him. He is to
+be present to-night, so the _Evening Star_ has announced, and General and
+Mrs. Grant with him. It will be the opportunity of your life to see these
+famous men--besides, I wish you to see the city illuminated on the way."
+
+Margaret hesitated.
+
+"I should like to go," she said with some confusion. "But you see we are
+old-fashioned Scotch Presbyterians down in our village in South Carolina.
+I never was in a theatre--and this is Good Friday----"
+
+"That's a fact, sure," said Phil thoughtfully. "It never occurred to me.
+War is not exactly a spiritual stimulant, and it blurs the calendar. I
+believe we fight on Sundays oftener than on any other day."
+
+"But I'm crazy to see the President since Ben's pardon. Mamma will be here
+in a moment, and I'll ask her."
+
+"You see, it's really an occasion," Phil went on. "The people are all
+going there to see President Lincoln in the hour of his triumph, and his
+great General fresh from the field of victory. Grant has just arrived in
+town."
+
+Mrs. Cameron entered and greeted Phil with motherly tenderness.
+
+"Captain, you're so much like my boy! Had you noticed it, Margaret?"
+
+"Of course, Mamma, but I was afraid I'd tire him with flattery if I tried
+to tell him."
+
+"Only his hair is light and wavy, and Ben's straight and black, or you'd
+call them twins. Ben's a little taller--excuse us, Captain Stoneman, but
+we've fallen so in love with your little sister we feel we've known you
+all our lives."
+
+"I assure you, Mrs. Cameron, your flattery is very sweet. Elsie and I do
+not remember our mother, and all this friendly criticism is more than
+welcome."
+
+"Mamma, Captain Stoneman asks me to go with him and his sister to-night to
+see the President at the theatre. May I go?"
+
+"Will the President be there, Captain?" asked Mrs. Cameron.
+
+"Yes, Madam, with General and Mrs. Grant--it's really a great public
+function in celebration of peace and victory. To-day the flag was raised
+over Fort Sumter, the anniversary of its surrender four years ago. The
+city will be illuminated."
+
+"Then, of course, you can go. I will sit with Ben. I wish you to see the
+President."
+
+At seven o'clock Phil called for Margaret. They walked to the Capitol hill
+and down Pennsylvania Avenue.
+
+The city was in a ferment. Vast crowds thronged the streets. In front of
+the hotel where General Grant stopped the throng was so dense the streets
+were completely blocked. Soldiers, soldiers, soldiers, at every turn, in
+squads, in companies, in regimental crowds, shouting cries of victory.
+
+The display of lights was dazzling in its splendour. Every building in
+every street, in every nook and corner of the city, was lighted from attic
+to cellar. The public buildings and churches vied with each other in the
+magnificence of their decorations and splendour of illuminations.
+
+They turned a corner, and suddenly the Capitol on the throne of its
+imperial hill loomed a grand constellation in the heavens! Another look,
+and it seemed a huge bonfire against the background of the dark skies.
+Every window in its labyrinths of marble, from the massive base to its
+crowning statue of Freedom, gleamed and flashed with light--more than ten
+thousand jets poured their rays through its windows, besides the
+innumerable lights that circled the mighty dome within and without.
+
+Margaret stopped, and Phil felt her soft hand grip his arm with sudden
+emotion.
+
+"Isn't it sublime!" she whispered.
+
+"Glorious!" he echoed.
+
+But he was thinking of the pressure of her hand on his arm and the subtle
+tones of her voice. Somehow he felt that the light came from her eyes. He
+forgot the Capitol and the surging crowds before the sweeter creative
+wonder silently growing in his soul.
+
+"And yet," she faltered, "when I think of what all this means for our
+people at home--their sorrow and poverty and ruin--you know it makes me
+faint."
+
+Phil's hand timidly sought the soft one resting on his arm and touched it
+reverently.
+
+"Believe me, Miss Margaret, it will be all for the best in the end. The
+South will yet rise to a nobler life than she has ever lived in the past.
+This is her victory as well as ours."
+
+"I wish I could think so," she answered.
+
+They passed the City Hall and saw across its front, in giant letters of
+fire thirty feet deep, the words:
+
+"UNION, SHERMAN, AND GRANT"
+
+On Pennsylvania Avenue the hotels and stores had hung every window,
+awning, cornice, and swaying tree-top with lanterns. The grand avenue was
+bridged by tri-coloured balloons floating and shimmering ghostlike far up
+in the dark sky. Above these, in the blacker zone toward the stars, the
+heavens were flashing sheets of chameleon flames from bursting rockets.
+
+Margaret had never dreamed such a spectacle. She walked in awed silence,
+now and then suppressing a sob for the memory of those she had loved and
+lost. A moment of bitterness would cloud her heart, and then with the
+sense of Phil's nearness, his generous nature, the beauty and goodness of
+his sister, and all they owed to her for Ben's life, the cloud would
+pass.
+
+At every public building, and in front of every great hotel, bands were
+playing. The wild war strains, floating skyward, seemed part of the
+changing scheme of light. The odour of burnt powder and smouldering
+rockets filled the warm spring air.
+
+The deep bay of the great fort guns now began to echo from every hilltop
+commanding the city, while a thousand smaller guns barked and growled from
+every square and park and crossing.
+
+Jay Cooke & Co's. banking-house had stretched across its front, in
+enormous blazing letters, the words:
+
+"THE BUSY B'S--BALLS, BALLOTS, AND BONDS"
+
+Every telegraph and newspaper office was a roaring whirlpool of
+excitement, for the same scenes were being enacted in every centre of the
+North. The whole city was now a fairy dream, its dirt and sin, shame and
+crime, all wrapped in glorious light.
+
+But above all other impressions was the contagion of the thunder shouts of
+hosts of men surging through the streets--the human roar with its animal
+and spiritual magnetism, wild, resistless, unlike any other force in the
+universe!
+
+Margaret's hand again and again unconsciously tightened its hold on Phil's
+arm, and he felt that the whole celebration had been gotten up for his
+benefit.
+
+They passed through a little park on their way to Ford's Theatre on 10th
+Street, and the eye of the Southern girl was quick to note the budding
+flowers and full-blown lilacs.
+
+"See what an early spring!" she cried. "I know the flowers at home are
+gorgeous now."
+
+"I shall hope to see you among them some day, when all the clouds have
+lifted," he said.
+
+She smiled and replied with simple earnestness:
+
+"A warm welcome will await your coming."
+
+And Phil resolved to lose no time in testing it.
+
+They turned into 10th Street, and in the middle of the block stood the
+plain three-story brick structure of Ford's Theatre, an enormous crowd
+surging about its five doorways and spreading out on the sidewalk and half
+across the driveway.
+
+"Is that the theatre?" asked Margaret.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Why, it looks like a church without a steeple."
+
+"Exactly what it really is, Miss Margaret. It was a Baptist church. They
+turned it into a playhouse, by remodelling its gallery into a dress-circle
+and balcony and adding another gallery above. My grandmother Stoneman is a
+devoted Baptist, and was an attendant at this church. My father never goes
+to church, but he used to go here occasionally to please her. Elsie and I
+frequently came."
+
+Phil pushed his way rapidly through the crowd with a peculiar sense of
+pleasure in making a way for Margaret and in defending her from the
+jostling throng.
+
+They found Elsie at the door, stamping her foot with impatience.
+
+"Well, I must say, Phil, this is prompt for a soldier who had positive
+orders," she cried. "I've been here an hour."
+
+"Nonsense, Sis, I'm ahead of time," he protested.
+
+Elsie held up her watch.
+
+"It's a quarter past eight. Every seat is filled, and they've stopped
+selling standing-room. I hope you have good seats."
+
+"The best in the house to-night, the first row in the balcony
+dress-circle, opposite the President's box. We can see everything on the
+stage, in the box, and every nook and corner of the house."
+
+"Then I'll forgive you for keeping me waiting."
+
+They ascended the stairs, pushed through the throng standing, and at last
+reached the seats.
+
+What a crowd! The building was a mass of throbbing humanity, and, over
+all, the hum of the thrilling wonder of peace and victory!
+
+The women in magnificent costumes, officers in uniforms flashing with
+gold, the show of wealth and power, the perfume of flowers and the music
+of violin and flutes gave Margaret the impression of a dream, so sharp was
+the contrast with her own life and people in the South.
+
+The interior of the house was a billow of red, white, and blue. The
+President's box was wrapped in two enormous silk flags with gold-fringed
+edges gracefully draped and hanging in festoons.
+
+Withers, the leader of the orchestra, was in high feather. He raised his
+baton with quick, inspired movement. It was for him a personal triumph,
+too. He had composed the music of a song for the occasion. It was
+dedicated to the President, and the programme announced that it would be
+rendered during the evening between the acts by a famous quartet, assisted
+by the whole company in chorus. The National flag would be draped about
+each singer, worn as the togas of ancient Greece and Rome.
+
+It was already known by the crowd that General and Mrs. Grant had left the
+city for the North and could not be present, but every eye was fixed on
+the door through which the President and Mrs. Lincoln would enter. It was
+the hour of his supreme triumph.
+
+[Illustration: THE ASSASSINATION.]
+
+What a romance his life! The thought of it thrilled the crowd as they
+waited. A few years ago this tall, sad-faced man had floated down the
+Sangamon River into a rough Illinois town, ragged, penniless, friendless,
+alone, begging for work. Four years before he had entered Washington as
+President of the United States--but he came under cover of the night with
+a handful of personal friends, amid universal contempt for his ability and
+the loud expressed conviction of his failure from within and without his
+party. He faced a divided Nation and the most awful civil convulsion in
+history. Through it all he had led the Nation in safety, growing each day
+in power and fame, until to-night, amid the victorious shouts of millions
+of a Union fixed in eternal granite, he stood forth the idol of the
+people, the first great American, the foremost man of the world.
+
+There was a stir at the door, and the tall figure suddenly loomed in view
+of the crowd. With one impulse they leaped to their feet, and shout after
+shout shook the building. The orchestra was playing "Hail to the Chief!"
+but nobody heard it. They saw the Chief! They were crying their own
+welcome in music that came from the rhythmic beat of human hearts.
+
+As the President walked along the aisle with Mrs. Lincoln, accompanied by
+Senator Harris' daughter and Major Rathbone, cheer after cheer burst from
+the crowd. He turned, his face beaming with pleasure, and bowed as he
+passed.
+
+The answer of the crowd shook the building to its foundations, and the
+President paused. His dark face flashed with emotion as he looked over the
+sea of cheering humanity. It was a moment of supreme exaltation. The
+people had grown to know and love and trust him, and it was sweet. His
+face, lit with the responsive fires of emotion, was transfigured. The soul
+seemed to separate itself from its dreamy, rugged dwelling-place and flash
+its inspiration from the spirit world.
+
+As around this man's personality had gathered the agony and horror of war,
+so now about his head glowed and gleamed in imagination the splendours of
+victory.
+
+Margaret impulsively put her hand on Phil's arm:
+
+"Why, how Southern he looks! How tall and dark and typical his whole
+figure!"
+
+"Yes, and his traits of character even more typical," said Phil. "On the
+surface, easy friendly ways and the tenderness of a woman--beneath, an
+iron will and lion heart. I like him. And what always amazes me is his
+universality. A Southerner finds in him the South, the Western man the
+West, even Charles Sumner, from Boston, almost loves him. You know I think
+he is the first great all-round American who ever lived in the White
+House."
+
+The President's party had now entered the box, and as Mr. Lincoln took the
+armchair nearest the audience, in full view of every eye in the house,
+again the cheers rent the air. In vain Withers' baton flew, and the
+orchestra did its best. The music was drowned as in the roar of the sea.
+Again he rose and bowed and smiled, his face radiant with pleasure. The
+soul beneath those deep-cut lines had long pined for the sunlight. His
+love of the theatre and the humorous story were the protest of his heart
+against pain and tragedy. He stood there bowing to the people, the
+grandest, gentlest figure of the fiercest war of human history--a man who
+was always doing merciful things stealthily as others do crimes. Little
+sunlight had come into his life, yet to-night he felt that the sun of a
+new day in his history and the history of the people was already tingeing
+the horizon with glory.
+
+Back of those smiles what a story! Many a night he had paced back and
+forth in the telegraph office of the War Department, read its awful news
+of defeat, and alone sat down and cried over the list of the dead. Many a
+black hour his soul had seen when the honours of earth were forgotten and
+his great heart throbbed on his sleeve. His character had grown so evenly
+and silently with the burdens he had borne, working mighty deeds with such
+little friction, he could not know, nor could the crowd to whom he bowed,
+how deep into the core of the people's life the love of him had grown.
+
+As he looked again over the surging crowd his tall figure seemed to
+straighten, erect and buoyant, with the new dignity of conscious
+triumphant leadership. He knew that he had come unto his own at last, and
+his brain was teeming with dreams of mercy and healing.
+
+The President resumed his seat, the tumult died away, and the play began
+amid a low hum of whispered comment directed at the flag-draped box. The
+actors struggled in vain to hold the attention of the audience, until
+finally Hawk, the actor playing Dundreary, determined to catch their ear,
+paused and said:
+
+"Now, that reminds me of a little story, as Mr. Lincoln says----"
+
+Instantly the crowd burst into a storm of applause, the President laughed,
+leaned over and spoke to his wife, and the electric connection was made
+between the stage, the box, and the people.
+
+After this the play ran its smooth course, and the audience settled into
+its accustomed humour of sympathetic attention.
+
+In spite of the novelty of this, her first view of a theatre, the
+President fascinated Margaret. She watched the changing lights and shadows
+of his sensitive face with untiring interest, and the wonder of his life
+grew upon her imagination. This man who was the idol of the North and yet
+to her so purely Southern, who had come out of the West and yet was
+greater than the West or the North, and yet always supremely human--this
+man who sprang to his feet from the chair of State and bowed to a
+sorrowing woman with the deference of a knight, every man's friend,
+good-natured, sensible, masterful and clear in intellect, strong, yet
+modest, kind and gentle--yes, he was more interesting than all the drama
+and romance of the stage!
+
+He held her imagination in a spell. Elsie, divining her abstraction,
+looked toward the President's box and saw approaching it along the balcony
+aisle the figure of John Wilkes Booth.
+
+"Look," she cried, touching Margaret's arm. "There's John Wilkes Booth,
+the actor! Isn't he handsome? They say he's in love with my chum, a
+senator's daughter whose father hates Mr. Lincoln with perfect fury."
+
+"He is handsome," Margaret answered. "But I'd be afraid of him, with that
+raven hair and eyes shining like something wild."
+
+"They say he is wild and dissipated, yet half the silly girls in town are
+in love with him. He's as vain as a peacock."
+
+Booth, accustomed to free access to the theatre, paused near the entrance
+to the box and looked deliberately over the great crowd, his magnetic face
+flushed with deep emotion, while his fiery inspiring eyes glittered with
+excitement.
+
+Dressed in a suit of black broadcloth of faultless fit, from the crown of
+his head to the soles of his feet he was physically without blemish. A
+figure of perfect symmetry and proportion, his dark eyes flashing, his
+marble forehead crowned with curling black hair, agility and grace stamped
+on every line of his being--beyond a doubt he was the handsomest man in
+America. A flutter of feminine excitement rippled the surface of the crowd
+in the balcony as his well-known figure caught the wandering eyes of the
+women.
+
+He turned and entered the door leading to the President's box, and
+Margaret once more gave her attention to the stage.
+
+Hawk, as Dundreary, was speaking his lines and looking directly at the
+President instead of at the audience:
+
+"Society, eh? Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old
+woman, you darned old sockdologing man trap!"
+
+Margaret winced at the coarse words, but the galleries burst into shouts
+of laughter that lingered in ripples and murmurs and the shuffling of
+feet.
+
+The muffled crack of a pistol in the President's box hushed the laughter
+for an instant.
+
+No one realized what had happened, and when the assassin suddenly leaped
+from the box, with a blood-marked knife flashing in his right hand, caught
+his foot in the flags and fell to his knees on the stage, many thought it
+a part of the programme, and a boy, leaning over the gallery rail,
+giggled. When Booth turned his face of statuesque beauty lit by eyes
+flashing with insane desperation and cried, "_Sic semper tyrannis_," they
+were only confirmed in this impression.
+
+A sudden, piercing scream from Mrs. Lincoln, quivering, soul harrowing!
+Leaning far out of the box, from ashen cheeks and lips leaped the piteous
+cry of appeal, her hand pointing to the retreating figure:
+
+"The President is shot! He has killed the President!"
+
+Every heart stood still for one awful moment. The brain refused to record
+the message--and then the storm burst!
+
+A wild roar of helpless fury and despair! Men hurled themselves over the
+footlights in vain pursuit of the assassin. Already the clatter of his
+horse's feet could be heard in the distance. A surgeon threw himself
+against the door of the box, but it had been barred within by the cunning
+hand. Another leaped on the stage, and the people lifted him up in their
+arms and over the fatal railing.
+
+Women began to faint, and strong men trampled down the weak in mad rushes
+from side to side.
+
+The stage in a moment was a seething mass of crazed men, among them the
+actors and actresses in costumes and painted faces, their mortal terror
+shining through the rouge. They passed water up to the box, and some tried
+to climb up and enter it.
+
+The two hundred soldiers of the President's guard suddenly burst in, and,
+amid screams and groans of the weak and injured, stormed the house with
+fixed bayonets, cursing, yelling, and shouting at the top of their
+voices:
+
+"Clear out! Clear out! You sons of hell!"
+
+One of them suddenly bore down with fixed bayonet toward Phil.
+
+Margaret shrank in terror close to his side and tremblingly held his arm.
+
+Elsie sprang forward, her face aflame, her eyes flashing fire, her little
+figure tense, erect, and quivering with rage:
+
+"How dare you, idiot, brute!"
+
+The soldier, brought to his senses, saw Phil in full captain's uniform
+before him, and suddenly drew himself up, saluting. Phil ordered him to
+guard Margaret and Elsie for a moment, drew his sword, leaped between the
+crazed soldiers and their victims and stopped their insane rush.
+
+Within the box the great head lay in the surgeon's arms, the blood slowly
+dripping down, and the tiny death bubbles forming on the kindly lips. They
+carried him tenderly out, and another group bore after him the unconscious
+wife. The people tore the seats from their fastenings and heaped them in
+piles to make way for the precious burdens.
+
+As Phil pressed forward with Margaret and Elsie through the open door came
+the roar of the mob without, shouting its cries:
+
+"The President is shot!"
+
+"Seward is murdered!"
+
+"Where is Grant?"
+
+"Where is Stanton?"
+
+"To arms! To arms!"
+
+The peal of signal guns could now be heard, the roll of drums and the
+hurried tramp of soldiers' feet. They marched none too soon. The mob had
+attacked the stockade holding ten thousand unarmed Confederate prisoners.
+
+At the corner of the block in which the theatre stood they seized a man
+who looked like a Southerner and hung him to the lamp-post. Two heroic
+policemen fought their way to his side and rescued him.
+
+If the temper of the people during the war had been convulsive, now it was
+insane--with one mad impulse and one thought--vengeance! Horror, anger,
+terror, uncertainty, each passion fanned the one animal instinct into
+fury.
+
+Through this awful night, with the lights still gleaming as if to mock the
+celebration of victory, the crowds swayed in impotent rage through the
+streets, while the telegraph bore on the wings of lightning the
+awe-inspiring news. Men caught it from the wires, and stood in silent
+groups weeping, and their wrath against the fallen South began to rise as
+the moaning of the sea under a coming storm.
+
+At dawn black clouds hung threatening on the eastern horizon. As the sun
+rose, tingeing them for a moment with scarlet and purple glory, Abraham
+Lincoln breathed his last.
+
+Even grim Stanton, the iron-hearted, stood by his bedside and through
+blinding tears exclaimed:
+
+"Now he belongs to the ages!"
+
+The deed was done. The wheel of things had moved. Vice-President Johnson
+took the oath of office, and men hailed him Chief; but the seat of Empire
+had moved from the White House to a little dark house on the Capitol hill,
+where dwelt an old club-footed man, alone, attended by a strange brown
+woman of sinister animal beauty and the restless eyes of a leopardess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE FRENZY OF A NATION
+
+
+Phil hurried through the excited crowds with Margaret and Elsie, left them
+at the hospital door, and ran to the War Department to report for duty.
+Already the tramp of regiments echoed down every great avenue.
+
+Even as he ran, his heart beat with a strange new stroke when he recalled
+the look of appeal in Margaret's dark eyes as she nestled close to his
+side and clung to his arm for protection. He remembered with a smile the
+almost resistless impulse of the moment to slip his arm around her and
+assure her of safety. If he had only dared!
+
+Elsie begged Mrs. Cameron and Margaret to go home with her until the city
+was quiet.
+
+"No," said the mother. "I am not afraid. Death has no terrors for me any
+longer. We will not leave Ben a moment now, day or night. My soul is sick
+with dread for what this awful tragedy will mean for the South! I can't
+think of my own safety. Can any one undo this pardon now?" she asked
+anxiously.
+
+"I am sure they cannot. The name on that paper should be mightier dead
+than living."
+
+"Ah, but will it be? Do you know Mr. Johnson? Can he control Stanton? He
+seemed to be more powerful than the President himself. What will that man
+do now with those who fall into his hands."
+
+"He can do nothing with your son, rest assured."
+
+"I wish I knew it," said the mother wistfully.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few moments after the President died on Saturday morning, the rain began
+to pour in torrents. The flags that flew from a thousand gilt-tipped peaks
+in celebration of victory drooped to half-mast and hung weeping around
+their staffs. The litter of burnt fireworks, limp and crumbling, strewed
+the streets, and the tri-coloured lanterns and balloons, hanging
+pathetically from their wires, began to fall to pieces.
+
+Never in all the history of man had such a conjunction of events befallen
+a nation. From the heights of heaven's rejoicing to be suddenly hurled to
+the depths of hell in piteous helpless grief! Noon to midnight without a
+moment between. A pall of voiceless horror spread its shadows over the
+land. Nothing short of an earthquake or the sound of the archangel's
+trumpet could have produced the sense of helpless consternation, the black
+and speechless despair. The people read their papers in tears. The morning
+meal was untouched. By no other single feat could death have carried such
+peculiar horror to every home. Around this giant figure the heartstrings
+of the people had been unconsciously knit. Even his political enemies had
+come to love him.
+
+Above all, in just this moment he was the incarnation of the Triumphant
+Union on the altar of whose life every house had laid the offering of its
+first-born. The tragedy was stupefying--it was unthinkable--it was the
+mockery of Fate!
+
+Men walked the streets of the cities, dazed with the sense of blind grief.
+Every note of music and rejoicing became a dirge. All business ceased.
+Every wheel in every mill stopped. The roar of the great city was hushed,
+and Greed for a moment forgot his cunning.
+
+The army only moved with swifter spring, tightening its mighty grip on the
+throat of the bleeding prostrate South.
+
+As the day wore on its gloomy hours, and men began to find speech, they
+spoke to each other at first in low tones of Fate, of Life, of Death, of
+Immortality, of God--and then as grief found words the measureless rage of
+baffled strength grew slowly to madness.
+
+On every breeze from the North came the deep-muttered curses.
+
+Easter Sunday dawned after the storm, clear and beautiful in a flood of
+glorious sunshine. The churches were thronged as never in their history.
+All had been decorated for the double celebration of Easter and the
+triumph of the Union. The preachers had prepared sermons pitched in the
+highest anthem key of victory--victory over death and the grave of
+Calvary, and victory for the Nation opening a future of boundless glory.
+The churches were labyrinths of flowers, and around every pulpit and from
+every Gothic arch hung the red, white, and blue flags of the Republic.
+
+And now, as if to mock this gorgeous pageant, Death had in the night flung
+a black mantle over every flag and wound a strangling web of crape round
+every Easter flower.
+
+When the preachers faced the silent crowds before them, looking into the
+faces of fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and lovers whose dear ones
+had been slain in battle or died in prison pens, the tide of grief and
+rage rose and swept them from their feet! The Easter sermon was laid
+aside. Fifty thousand Christian ministers, stunned and crazed by insane
+passion, standing before the altars of God, hurled into the broken hearts
+before them the wildest cries of vengeance--cries incoherent, chaotic,
+unreasoning, blind in their awful fury!
+
+The pulpits of New York and Brooklyn led in the madness.
+
+Next morning old Stoneman read his paper with a cold smile playing about
+his big stern mouth, while his furrowed brow flushed with triumph, as
+again and again he exclaimed: "At last! At last!"
+
+Even Beecher, who had just spoken his generous words at Fort Sumter,
+declared:
+
+"Never while time lasts, while heaven lasts, while hell rocks and groans,
+will it be forgotten that Slavery, by its minions, slew him, and slaying
+him made manifest its whole nature. A man cannot be bred in its tainted
+air. I shall find saints in hell sooner than I shall find true manhood
+under its accursed influences. The breeding-ground of such monsters must
+be utterly and forever destroyed."
+
+Dr. Stephen Tyng said:
+
+"The leaders of this rebellion deserve no pity from any human being. Now
+let them go. Some other land must be their home. Their property is justly
+forfeited to the Nation they have attempted to destroy!"
+
+In big black-faced type stood Dr. Charles S. Robinson's bitter words:
+
+"This is the earliest reply which chivalry makes to our forbearance. Talk
+to me no more of the same race, of the same blood. He is no brother of
+mine and of no race of mine who crowns the barbarism of treason with the
+murder of an unarmed husband in the sight of his wife. On the villains who
+led this rebellion let justice fall swift and relentless. Death to every
+traitor of the South! Pursue them one by one! Let every door be closed
+upon them and judgment follow swift and implacable as death!"
+
+Dr. Theodore Cuyler exclaimed:
+
+"This is no time to talk of leniency and conciliation! I say before God,
+make no terms with rebellion short of extinction. Booth wielding the
+assassin's weapon is but the embodiment of the bowie-knife barbarism of a
+slaveholding oligarchy."
+
+Dr. J. P. Thompson said:
+
+"Blot every Southern State from the map. Strip every rebel of property and
+citizenship, and send them into exile beggared and infamous outcasts."
+
+Bishop Littlejohn, in his impassioned appeal, declared:
+
+"The deed is worthy of the Southern cause which was conceived in sin,
+brought forth in iniquity, and consummated in crime. This murderous hand
+is the same hand which lashed the slave's bared back, struck down New
+England's senator for daring to speak, lifted the torch of rebellion,
+slaughtered in cold blood its thousands, and starved our helpless
+prisoners. Its end is not martyrdom, but dishonour."
+
+Bishop Simpson said:
+
+"Let every man who was a member of Congress and aided this rebellion be
+brought to speedy punishment. Let every officer educated at public
+expense, who turned his sword against his country, be doomed to a
+traitor's death!"
+
+With the last note of this wild music lingering in the old Commoner's
+soul, he sat as if dreaming, laughed cynically, turned to the brown woman
+and said:
+
+"My speeches have not been lost after all. Prepare dinner for six. My
+cabinet will meet here to-night."
+
+While the press was reëchoing these sermons, gathering strength as they
+were caught and repeated in every town, village, and hamlet in the North,
+the funeral procession started westward. It passed in grandeur through the
+great cities on its journey of one thousand six hundred miles to the tomb.
+By day, by night, by dawn, by sunlight, by twilight, and lit by solemn
+torches, millions of silent men and women looked on his dead face. Around
+the person of this tall, lonely man, rugged, yet full of sombre dignity
+and spiritual beauty, the thoughts, hopes, dreams, and ideals of the
+people had gathered in four years of agony and death, until they had come
+to feel their own hearts beat in his breast and their own life throb in
+his life. The assassin's bullet had crashed into their own brains, and
+torn their souls and bodies asunder.
+
+The masses were swept from their moorings, and reason destroyed. All
+historic perspective was lost. Our first assassination, there was no
+precedent for comparison. It had been over two hundred years in the
+world's history since the last murder of a great ruler, when William of
+Orange fell.
+
+On the day set for the public funeral twenty million people bowed at the
+same hour.
+
+When the procession reached New York the streets were lined with a million
+people. Not a sound could be heard save the tramp of soldiers' feet and
+the muffled cry of the dirge. Though on every foot of earth stood a human
+being, the silence of the desert and of death! The Nation's living heroes
+rode in that procession, and passed without a sign from the people.
+
+Four years ago he drove down Broadway as President-elect, unnoticed and
+with soldiers in disguise attending him lest the mob should stone him.
+
+To-day, at the mention of his name in the churches, the preachers' voices
+in prayer wavered and broke into silence while strong men among the crowd
+burst into sobs. Flags flew at half-mast from their steeples, and their
+bells tolled in grief.
+
+Every house that flew but yesterday its banner of victory was shrouded in
+mourning. The flags and pennants of a thousand ships in the harbour
+drooped at half-mast, and from every staff in the city streamed across the
+sky the black mists of crape like strange meteors in the troubled
+heavens.
+
+For three days every theatre, school, court, bank, shop, and mill was
+closed.
+
+And with muttered curses men looked Southward.
+
+Across Broadway the cortège passed under a huge transparency on which
+appeared the words:
+
+                        "A Nation bowed in grief
+                    Will rise in might to exterminate
+                The leaders of this accursed Rebellion."
+
+Farther along swung the black-draped banner:
+
+                          "Justice to Traitors
+                                   is
+                          Mercy to the People."
+
+Another flapped its grim message:
+
+                       "The Barbarism of Slavery.
+                       Can Barbarism go Further?"
+
+Across the Ninth Regiment Armoury, in gigantic letters, were the words:
+
+                            "Time for Weeping
+                     But Vengeance is not Sleeping!"
+
+When the procession reached Buffalo, the house of Millard Fillmore was
+mobbed because the ex-President, stricken on a bed of illness, had
+neglected to drape his house in mourning. The procession passed to
+Springfield through miles of bowed heads dumb with grief. The plough
+stopped in the furrow, the smith dropped his hammer, the carpenter his
+plane, the merchant closed his door, the clink of coin ceased, and over
+all hung brooding silence with low-muttered curses, fierce and
+incoherent.
+
+No man who walked the earth ever passed to his tomb through such a storm
+of human tears. The pageants of Alexander, Cæsar, and Wellington were
+tinsel to this. Nor did the spirit of Napoleon, the Corsican Lieutenant of
+Artillery who once presided over a congress of kings whom he had
+conquered, look down on its like even in France.
+
+And now that its pomp was done and its memory but bitterness and ashes,
+but one man knew exactly what he wanted and what he meant to do. Others
+were stunned by the blow. But the cold eyes of the Great Commoner, leader
+of leaders, sparkled, and his grim lips smiled. From him not a word of
+praise or fawning sorrow for the dead. Whatever he might be, he was not a
+liar: when he hated, he hated.
+
+The drooping flags, the city's black shrouds, processions, torches, silent
+seas of faces and bared heads, the dirges and the bells, the dim-lit
+churches, wailing organs, fierce invectives from the altar, and the
+perfume of flowers piled in heaps by silent hearts--to all these was he
+heir.
+
+And more--the fierce unwritten, unspoken, and unspeakable horrors of the
+war itself, its passions, its cruelties, its hideous crimes and
+sufferings, the wailing of its women, the graves of its men--all these now
+were his.
+
+The new President bowed to the storm. In one breath he promised to fulfil
+the plans of Lincoln. In the next he, too, breathed threats of vengeance.
+
+The edict went forth for the arrest of General Lee.
+
+Would Grant, the Commanding General of the Army, dare protest? There were
+those who said that if Lee were arrested and Grant's plighted word at
+Appomattox smirched, the silent soldier would not only protest, but draw
+his sword, if need be, to defend his honour and the honour of the Nation.
+Yet--would he dare? It remained to be seen.
+
+The jails were now packed with Southern men, taken unarmed from their
+homes. The old Capitol Prison was full, and every cell of every grated
+building in the city, and they were filling the rooms of the Capitol
+itself.
+
+Margaret, hurrying from the market in the early morning with her flowers,
+was startled to find her mother bowed in anguish over a paragraph in the
+morning paper.
+
+She rose and handed it to the daughter, who read:
+
+  "Dr. Richard Cameron, of South Carolina, arrived in Washington and was
+  placed in jail last night, charged with complicity in the murder of
+  President Lincoln. It was discovered that Jeff Davis spent the night
+  at his home in Piedmont, under the pretence of needing medical
+  attention. Beyond all doubt, Booth, the assassin, merely acted under
+  orders from the Arch Traitor. May the gallows have a rich and early
+  harvest!"
+
+Margaret tremblingly wound her arms around her mother's neck. No words
+broke the pitiful silence--only blinding tears and broken sobs.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Book II--The Revolution
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE FIRST LADY OF THE LAND
+
+
+The little house on the Capitol hill now became the centre of fevered
+activity. This house, selected by its grim master to become the executive
+mansion of the Nation, was perhaps the most modest structure ever chosen
+for such high uses.
+
+It stood, a small, two-story brick building, in an unpretentious street.
+Seven windows opened on the front with black solid-panelled shutters. The
+front parlour was scantily furnished. A huge mirror covered one wall, and
+on the other hung a life-size oil portrait of Stoneman, and between the
+windows were a portrait of Washington Irving and a picture of a nun. Among
+his many charities he had always given liberally to an orphanage conducted
+by a Roman Catholic sisterhood.
+
+The back parlour, whose single window looked out on a small garden, he had
+fitted up as a library, with leather-upholstered furniture, a large desk
+and table, and scattered on the mantel and about its walls were the
+photographs of his personal friends and a few costly prints. This room he
+used as his executive office, and no person was allowed to enter it
+without first stating his business or presenting a petition to the tawny
+brown woman with restless eyes who sat in state in the front parlour and
+received his visitors. The books in their cases gave evidence of little
+use for many years, although their character indicated the tastes of a man
+of culture. His Pliny, Cæsar, Cicero, Tacitus, Sophocles, and Homer had
+evidently been read by a man who knew their beauties and loved them for
+their own sake.
+
+This house was now the Mecca of the party in power and the storm-centre of
+the forces destined to shape the Nation's life. Senators, representatives,
+politicians of low and high degree, artists, correspondents, foreign
+ministers, and cabinet officers hurried to acknowledge their fealty to the
+uncrowned king, and hail the strange brown woman who held the keys of his
+house as the first lady of the land.
+
+When Charles Sumner called, a curious thing happened. By a code agreed on
+between them, Lydia Brown touched an electric signal which informed the
+old Commoner of his appearance. Stoneman hobbled to the folding-doors and
+watched through the slight opening the manner in which the icy senator
+greeted the negress whom he was compelled to meet thus as his social
+equal, though she was always particular to pose as the superior of all who
+bowed the knee to the old man whose house she kept.
+
+Sumner at this time was supposed to be the most powerful man in Congress.
+It was a harmless fiction which pleased him, and at which Stoneman loved
+to laugh.
+
+The senator from Massachusetts had just made a speech in Boston expounding
+the "Equality of Man," yet he could not endure personal contact with a
+negro. He would go secretly miles out of the way to avoid it.
+
+Stoneman watched him slowly and daintily approach this negress and touch
+her jewelled hand gingerly with the tips of his classic fingers as if she
+were a toad. Convulsed, he scrambled back to his desk and hugged himself
+while he listened to the flow of Lydia's condescending patronage in the
+next room.
+
+"This world's too good a thing to lose!" he chuckled. "I think I'll live
+always."
+
+When Sumner left, the hour for dinner had arrived, and by special
+invitation two men dined with him.
+
+On his right sat an army officer who had been dismissed from the service,
+a victim of the mania for gambling. His ruddy face, iron-gray hair, and
+jovial mien indicated that he enjoyed life in spite of troubles.
+
+There were no clubs in Washington at this time except the regular
+gambling-houses, of which there were more than one hundred in full blast.
+
+Stoneman was himself a gambler, and spent a part of almost every night at
+Hall & Pemberton's Faro Palace on Pennsylvania Avenue, a place noted for
+its famous restaurant. It was here that he met Colonel Howle and learned
+to like him. He was a man of talent, cool and audacious, and a liar of
+such singular fluency that he quite captivated the old Commoner's
+imagination.
+
+"Upon my soul, Howle," he declared soon after they met, "you made the
+mistake of your life going into the army. You're a born politician. You're
+what I call a natural liar, just as a horse is a pacer, a dog a setter.
+You lie without effort, with an ease and grace that excels all art. Had
+you gone into politics, you could easily have been Secretary of State, to
+say nothing of the vice-presidency. I would say President but for the fact
+that men of the highest genius never attain it."
+
+From that moment Colonel Howle had become his charmed henchman. Stoneman
+owned this man body and soul, not merely because he had befriended him
+when he was in trouble and friendless, but because the colonel recognized
+the power of the leader's daring spirit and revolutionary genius.
+
+On his left sat a negro of perhaps forty years, a man of charming features
+for a mulatto, who had evidently inherited the full physical
+characteristics of the Aryan race, while his dark yellowish eyes beneath
+his heavy brows glowed with the brightness of the African jungle. It was
+impossible to look at his superb face, with its large, finely chiselled
+lips and massive nose, his big neck and broad shoulders, and watch his
+eyes gleam beneath the projecting forehead, without seeing pictures of the
+primeval forest. "The head of a Cæsar and the eyes of the jungle" was the
+phrase coined by an artist who painted his portrait.
+
+His hair was black and glossy and stood in dishevelled profusion on his
+head between a kink and a curl. He was an orator of great power, and
+stirred a negro audience as by magic.
+
+Lydia Brown had called Stoneman's attention to this man, Silas Lynch, and
+induced the statesman to send him to college. He had graduated with credit
+and had entered the Methodist ministry. In his preaching to the freedmen
+he had already become a marked man. No house could hold his audiences.
+
+As he stepped briskly into the dining-room and passed the brown woman, a
+close observer might have seen him suddenly press her hand and caught her
+sly answering smile, but the old man waiting at the head of the table saw
+nothing.
+
+The woman took her seat opposite Stoneman and presided over this curious
+group with the easy assurance of conscious power. Whatever her real
+position, she knew how to play the role she had chosen to assume.
+
+No more curious or sinister figure ever cast a shadow across the history
+of a great nation than did this mulatto woman in the most corrupt hour of
+American life. The grim old man who looked into her sleek tawny face and
+followed her catlike eyes was steadily gripping the Nation by the throat.
+Did he aim to make this woman the arbiter of its social life, and her
+ethics the limit of its moral laws?
+
+Even the white satellite who sat opposite Lynch flushed for a moment as
+the thought flashed through his brain.
+
+The old cynic, who alone knew his real purpose, was in his most genial
+mood to-night, and the grim lines of his powerful face relaxed into
+something like a smile as they ate and chatted and told good stories.
+
+Lynch watched him with keen interest. He knew his history and character,
+and had built on his genius a brilliant scheme of life.
+
+This man who meant to become the dictator of the Republic had come from
+the humblest early conditions. His father was a worthless character, from
+whom he had learned the trade of a shoemaker, but his mother, a woman of
+vigorous intellect and indomitable will, had succeeded in giving her lame
+boy a college education. He had early sworn to be a man of wealth, and to
+this purpose he had throttled the dreams and ideals of a wayward
+imagination.
+
+His hope of great wealth had not been realized. His iron mills in
+Pennsylvania had been destroyed by Lee's army. He had developed the habit
+of gambling, which brought its train of extravagant habits, tastes, and
+inevitable debts. In his vigorous manhood, in spite of his lameness, he
+had kept a pack of hounds and a stable of fine horses. He had used his
+skill in shoemaking to construct a set of stirrups to fit his lame feet,
+and had become an expert hunter to hounds.
+
+One thing he never neglected--to be in his seat in the House of
+Representatives and wear its royal crown of leadership, sick or well, day
+or night. The love of power was the breath of his nostrils, and his
+ambitions had at one time been boundless. His enormous power to-day was
+due to the fact that he had given up all hope of office beyond the robes
+of the king of his party. He had been offered a cabinet position by the
+elder Harrison and for some reason it had been withdrawn. He had been
+promised a place in Lincoln's cabinet, but some mysterious power had
+snatched it away. He was the one great man who had now no ambition for
+which to trim and fawn and lie, and for the very reason that he had
+abolished himself he was the most powerful leader who ever walked the
+halls of Congress.
+
+His contempt for public opinion was boundless. Bold, original, scornful of
+advice, of all the men who ever lived in our history he was the one man
+born to rule in the chaos which followed the assassination of the chief
+magistrate.
+
+Audacity was stamped in every line of his magnificent head. His choicest
+curses were for the cowards of his own party before whose blanched faces
+he shouted out the hidden things until they sank back in helpless silence
+and dismay. His speech was curt, his humour sardonic, his wit biting,
+cruel, and coarse.
+
+The incarnate soul of revolution, he despised convention and ridiculed
+respectability.
+
+There was but one weak spot in his armour--and the world never suspected
+it: the consuming passion with which he loved his two children. This was
+the side of his nature he had hidden from the eyes of man. A refined
+egotism, this passion, perhaps--for he meant to live his own life over in
+them--yet it was the one utterly human and lovable thing about him. And if
+his public policy was one of stupendous avarice, this dream of millions of
+confiscated wealth he meant to seize, it was not for himself but for his
+children.
+
+As he looked at Howle and Lynch seated in his library after dinner, with
+his great plans seething in his brain, his eyes were flashing, intense,
+and fiery, yet without colour--simply two centres of cold light.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said at length. "I am going to ask you to undertake for
+the Government, the Nation, and yourselves a dangerous and important
+mission. I say yourselves, because, in spite of all our beautiful lies,
+self is the centre of all human action. Mr. Lincoln has fortunately gone
+to his reward--fortunately for him and for his country. His death was
+necessary to save his life. He was a useful man living, more useful dead.
+Our party has lost its first President, but gained a god--why mourn?"
+
+"We will recover from our grief," said Howle.
+
+The old man went on, ignoring the interruption:
+
+"Things have somehow come my way. I am almost persuaded late in life that
+the gods love me. The insane fury of the North against the South for a
+crime which they were the last people on earth to dream of committing is,
+of course, a power to be used--but with caution. The first execution of a
+Southern leader on such an idiotic charge would produce a revolution of
+sentiment. The people are an aggregation of hysterical fools."
+
+"I thought you favoured the execution of the leaders of the rebellion?"
+said Lynch with surprise.
+
+"I did, but it is too late. Had they been tried by drum-head court-martial
+and shot dead red-handed as they stood on the field in their uniforms, all
+would have been well. Now sentiment is too strong. Grant showed his teeth
+to Stanton and he backed down from Lee's arrest. Sherman refused to shake
+hands with Stanton on the grandstand the day his army passed in review,
+and it's a wonder he didn't knock him down. Sherman was denounced as a
+renegade and traitor for giving Joseph E. Johnston the terms Lincoln
+ordered him to give. Lincoln dead, his terms are treason! Yet had he
+lived, we should have been called upon to applaud his mercy and
+patriotism. How can a man live in this world and keep his face straight?"
+
+"I believe God permitted Mr. Lincoln's death to give the great Commoner,
+the Leader of Leaders, the right of way," cried Lynch with enthusiasm.
+
+The old man smiled. With all his fierce spirit he was as susceptible to
+flattery as a woman--far more so than the sleek brown woman who carried
+the keys of his house.
+
+"The man at the other end of the avenue, who pretends to be President, in
+reality an alien of the conquered province of Tennessee, is pressing
+Lincoln's plan of 'restoring' the Union. He has organized State
+governments in the South, and their senators and representatives will
+appear at the Capitol in December for admission to Congress. He thinks
+they will enter----"
+
+The old man broke into a low laugh and rubbed his hands.
+
+"My full plans are not for discussion at this juncture. Suffice it to say,
+I mean to secure the future of our party and the safety of this nation.
+The one thing on which the success of my plan absolutely depends is the
+confiscation of the millions of acres of land owned by the white people of
+the South and its division among the negroes and those who fought and
+suffered in this war----"
+
+The old Commoner paused, pursed his lips, and fumbled his hands a moment,
+the nostrils of his eagle-beaked nose breathing rapacity, sensuality
+throbbing in his massive jaws, and despotism frowning from his heavy
+brows.
+
+"Stanton will probably add to the hilarity of nations, and amuse himself
+by hanging a few rebels," he went on, "but we will address ourselves to
+serious work. All men have their price, including the present company,
+with due apologies to the speaker----"
+
+Howle's eyes danced, and he licked his lips.
+
+"If I haven't suffered in this war, who has?"
+
+"Your reward will not be in accordance with your sufferings. It will be
+based on the efficiency with which you obey my orders. Read that----"
+
+He handed to him a piece of paper on which he had scrawled his secret
+instructions.
+
+Another he gave to Lynch.
+
+"Hand them back to me when you read them, and I will burn them. These
+instructions are not to pass the lips of any man until the time is
+ripe--four bare walls are not to hear them whispered."
+
+Both men handed to the leader the slips of paper simultaneously.
+
+"Are we agreed, gentlemen?"
+
+"Perfectly," answered Howle.
+
+"Your word is law to me, sir," said Lynch.
+
+"Then you will draw on me personally for your expenses, and leave for the
+South within forty-eight hours. I wish your reports delivered to me two
+weeks before the meeting of Congress."
+
+As Lynch passed through the hall on his way to the door, the brown woman
+bade him good-night and pressed into his hand a letter.
+
+As his yellow fingers closed on the missive, his eyes flashed for a moment
+with catlike humour.
+
+The woman's face wore the mask of a sphinx.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+SWEETHEARTS
+
+
+When the first shock of horror at her husband's peril passed, it left a
+strange new light in Mrs. Cameron's eyes.
+
+The heritage of centuries of heroic blood from the martyrs of old Scotland
+began to flash its inspiration from the past. Her heart beat with the
+unconscious life of men and women who had stood in the stocks, and walked
+in chains to the stake with songs on their lips.
+
+The threat against the life of Doctor Cameron had not only stirred her
+martyr blood: it had roused the latent heroism of a beautiful girlhood. To
+her he had ever been the lover and the undimmed hero of her girlish
+dreams. She spent whole hours locked in her room alone. Margaret knew that
+she was on her knees. She always came forth with shining face and with
+soft words on her lips.
+
+She struggled for two months in vain efforts to obtain a single interview
+with him, or to obtain a copy of the charges. Doctor Cameron had been
+placed in the old Capitol Prison, already crowded to the utmost. He was in
+delicate health, and so ill when she had left home he could not accompany
+her to Richmond.
+
+Not a written or spoken word was allowed to pass those prison doors. She
+could communicate with him only through the officers in charge. Every
+message from him was the same. "I love you always. Do not worry. Go home
+the moment you can leave Ben. I fear the worst at Piedmont."
+
+When he had sent this message, he would sit down and write the truth in a
+little diary he kept:
+
+"Another day of anguish. How long, O Lord? Just one touch of her hand, one
+last pressure of her lips, and I am content. I have no desire to live--I
+am tired."
+
+The officers repeated the verbal messages, but they made no impression on
+Mrs. Cameron. By a mental telepathy which had always linked her life with
+his her soul had passed those prison bars. If he had written the pitiful
+record with a dagger's point on her heart, she could not have felt it more
+keenly.
+
+At times overwhelmed, she lay prostrate and sobbed in half-articulate
+cries. And then from the silence and mystery of the spirit world in which
+she felt the beat of the heart of Eternal Love would come again the
+strange peace that passeth understanding. She would rise and go forth to
+her task with a smile.
+
+In July she saw Mrs. Surratt taken from this old Capitol Prison to be hung
+with Payne, Herold, and Atzerodt for complicity in the assassination. The
+military commission before whom this farce of justice was enacted,
+suspicious of the testimony of the perjured wretches who had sworn her
+life away, had filed a memorandum with their verdict asking the President
+for mercy.
+
+President Johnson never saw this memorandum. It was secretly removed in
+the War Department, and only replaced after he had signed the death
+warrant.
+
+In vain Annie Surratt, the weeping daughter, flung herself on the steps of
+the White House on the fatal day, begging and praying to see the
+President. She could not believe they would allow her mother to be
+murdered in the face of a recommendation of mercy. The fatal hour struck
+at last, and the girl left the White House with set eyes and blanched
+face, muttering incoherent curses.
+
+The Chief Magistrate sat within, unconscious of the hideous tragedy that
+was being enacted in his name. When he discovered the infamy by which he
+had been made the executioner of an innocent woman, he made his first
+demand that Edwin M. Stanton resign from his cabinet as Secretary of War.
+And for the first time in the history of America, a cabinet officer waived
+the question of honour and refused to resign.
+
+With a shudder and blush of shame, strong men saw that day the executioner
+gather the ropes tightly three times around the dress of an innocent
+American mother and bind her ankles with cords. She fainted and sank
+backward upon the attendants, the poor limbs yielding at last to the
+mortal terror of death. But they propped her up and sprung the fatal
+trap.
+
+A feeling of uncertainty and horror crept over the city and the Nation, as
+rumours of the strange doings of the "Bureau of Military Justice," with
+its secret factory of testimony and powers of tampering with verdicts,
+began to find their way in whispered stories among the people.
+
+Public opinion, however, had as yet no power of adjustment. It was an hour
+of lapse to tribal insanity. Things had gone wrong. The demand for a
+scapegoat, blind, savage, and unreasoning, had not spent itself. The
+Government could do anything as yet, and the people would applaud.
+
+Mrs. Cameron had tried in vain to gain a hearing before the President.
+Each time she was directed to apply to Mr. Stanton. She refused to attempt
+to see him, and again turned to Elsie for help. She had learned that the
+same witnesses who had testified against Mrs. Surratt were being used to
+convict Doctor Cameron, and her heart was sick with fear.
+
+"Ask your father," she pleaded, "to write President Johnson a letter in my
+behalf. Whatever his politics, he can't be _your_ father and not be good
+at heart."
+
+Elsie paled for a moment. It was the one request she had dreaded. She
+thought of her father and Stanton with dread. How far he was supporting
+the Secretary of War she could only vaguely guess. He rarely spoke of
+politics to her, much as he loved her.
+
+"I'll try, Mrs. Cameron," she faltered. "My father is in town to-day and
+takes dinner with us before he leaves for Pennsylvania to-night. I'll go
+at once."
+
+With fear, and yet boldly, she went straight home to present her request.
+She knew he was a man who never cherished small resentments, however cruel
+and implacable might be his public policies. And yet she dreaded to put it
+to the test.
+
+"Father, I've a very important request to make of you," she said gravely.
+
+"Very well, my child, you need not be so solemn. What is it?"
+
+"I've some friends in great distress--Mrs. Cameron, of South Carolina, and
+her daughter Margaret."
+
+"Friends of yours?" he asked with an incredulous smile. "Where on earth
+did you find them?"
+
+"In the hospital, of course. Mrs. Cameron is not allowed to see her
+husband, who has been here in jail for over two months. He cannot write to
+her, nor can he receive a letter from her. He is on trial for his life, is
+ill and helpless, and is not allowed to know the charges against him,
+while hired witnesses and detectives have broken open his house, searched
+his papers, and are ransacking heaven and earth to convict him of a crime
+of which he never dreamed. It's a shame. You don't approve of such things,
+I know?"
+
+"What's the use of my expressing an opinion when you have already settled
+it?" he answered good-humouredly.
+
+"You _don't_ approve of such injustice?"
+
+"Certainly not, my child. Stanton's frantic efforts to hang a lot of
+prominent Southern men for complicity in Booth's crime is sheer insanity.
+Nobody who has any sense believes them guilty. As a politician I use
+popular clamour for my purposes, but I am not an idiot. When I go gunning,
+I never use a popgun or hunt small game."
+
+"Then you will write the President a letter asking that they be allowed to
+see Doctor Cameron?"
+
+The old man frowned.
+
+"Think, father, if you were in jail and friendless, and I were trying to
+see you----"
+
+"Tut, tut, my dear, it's not that I am unwilling--I was only thinking of
+the unconscious humour of _my_ making a request of the man who at present
+accidentally occupies the White House. Of all the men on earth, this alien
+from the province of Tennessee! But I'll do it for you. When did you ever
+know me to deny my help to a weak man or woman in distress?"
+
+"Never, father. I was sure you would do it," she answered warmly.
+
+He wrote the letter at once and handed it to her.
+
+She bent and kissed him.
+
+"I can't tell you how glad I am to know that you have no part in such
+injustice."
+
+"You should not have believed me such a fool, but I'll forgive you for the
+kiss. Run now with this letter to your rebel friends, you little traitor!
+Wait a minute----"
+
+He shuffled to his feet, placed his hand tenderly on her head, and stooped
+and kissed the shining hair.
+
+"I wonder if you know how I love you? How I've dreamed of your future? I
+may not see you every day as I wish; I'm absorbed in great affairs. But
+more and more I think of you and Phil. I'll have a big surprise for you
+both some day."
+
+"Your love is all I ask," she answered simply.
+
+Within an hour, Mrs. Cameron found herself before the new President. The
+letter had opened the door as by magic. She poured out her story with
+impetuous eloquence while Mr. Johnson listened in uneasy silence. His
+ruddy face, his hesitating manner, and restless eyes were in striking
+contrast to the conscious power of the tall dark man who had listened so
+tenderly and sympathetically to her story of Ben but a few weeks before.
+
+The President asked:
+
+"Have you seen Mr. Stanton?"
+
+"I have seen him once," she cried with sudden passion. "It is enough. If
+that man were God on His throne, I would swear allegiance to the devil and
+fight him!"
+
+The President lifted his eyebrows and his lips twitched with a smile:
+
+"I shouldn't say that your spirits are exactly drooping! I'd like to be
+near and hear you make that remark to the distinguished Secretary of
+War."
+
+"Will you grant my prayer?" she pleaded.
+
+"I will consider the matter," he promised evasively.
+
+Mrs. Cameron's heart sank.
+
+"Mr. President," she cried bitterly, "I have felt sure that I had but to
+see you face to face and you could not deny me. Surely it is but justice
+that he have the right to see his loved ones, to consult with counsel, to
+know the charges against him, and defend his life when attacked in his
+poverty and ruin by all the power of a mighty government? He is feeble and
+broken in health and suffering from wounds received carrying the flag of
+the Union to victory in Mexico. Whatever his errors of judgment in this
+war, it is a shame that a Nation for which he once bared his breast in
+battle should treat him as an outlaw without a trial."
+
+"You must remember, madam," interrupted the President, "that these are
+extraordinary times, and that popular clamour, however unjust, will make
+itself felt and must be heeded by those in power. I am sorry for you, and
+I trust it may be possible for me to grant your request."
+
+"But I wish it now," she urged. "He sends me word I must go home. I can't
+leave without seeing him. I will die first."
+
+She drew closer and continued in throbbing tones:
+
+"Mr. President, you are a native Carolinian--you are of Scotch Covenanter
+blood. You are of my own people of the great past, whose tears and
+sufferings are our common glory and birthright. Come, you must hear me--I
+will take no denial. Give me now the order to see my husband!"
+
+The President hesitated, struggling with deep emotion, called his
+secretary, and gave the order.
+
+As she hurried away with Elsie, who insisted on accompanying her to the
+jail door, the girl said:
+
+"Mrs. Cameron, I fear you are without money. You must let me help you
+until you can return it."
+
+"You are the dearest little heart I've met in all the world, I think
+sometimes," said the older woman, looking at her tenderly. "I wonder how I
+can ever pay you for half you've done already."
+
+"The doing of it has been its own reward," was the soft reply. "May I help
+you?"
+
+"If I need it, yes. But I trust it will not be necessary. I still have a
+little store of gold Doctor Cameron was wise enough to hoard during the
+war. I brought half of it with me when I left home, and we buried the
+rest. I hope to find it on my return. And if we can save the twenty bales
+of cotton we have hidden we shall be relieved of want."
+
+"I'm ashamed of my country when I think of such ignoble methods as have
+been used against Doctor Cameron. My father is indignant, too."
+
+The last sentence Elsie spoke with eager girlish pride.
+
+"I am very grateful to your father for his letter. I am sorry he has left
+the city before I could meet and thank him personally. You must tell him
+for me."
+
+At the jail the order of the President was not honoured for three hours,
+and Mrs. Cameron paced the street in angry impatience at first and then in
+dull despair.
+
+"Do you think that man Stanton would dare defy the President?" she asked
+anxiously.
+
+"No," said Elsie, "but he is delaying as long as possible as an act of
+petty tyranny."
+
+At last the messenger arrived from the War Department permitting an order
+of the Chief Magistrate of the nation, the Commander-in-Chief of its Army
+and Navy, to be executed.
+
+The grated door swung on its heavy hinges, and the wife and mother lay
+sobbing in the arms of the lover of her youth.
+
+For two hours they poured into each other's hearts the story of their
+sorrows and struggles during the six fateful months that had passed. When
+she would return from every theme back to his danger, he would laugh her
+fears to scorn.
+
+"Nonsense, my dear, I'm as innocent as a babe. Mr. Davis was suffering
+from erysipelas, and I kept him in my house that night to relieve his
+pain. It will all blow over. I'm happy now that I have seen you. Ben will
+be up in a few days. You must return at once. You have no idea of the wild
+chaos at home. I left Jake in charge. I have implicit faith in him, but
+there's no telling what may happen. I will not spend another moment in
+peace until you go."
+
+The proud old man spoke of his own danger with easy assurance. He was
+absolutely certain, since the day of Mrs. Surratt's execution, that he
+would be railroaded to the gallows by the same methods. He had long looked
+on the end with indifference, and had ceased to desire to live except to
+see his loved ones again.
+
+In vain she warned him of danger.
+
+"My peril is nothing, my love," he answered quietly. "At home, the horrors
+of a servile reign of terror have become a reality. These prison walls do
+not interest me. My heart is with our stricken people. You must go home.
+Our neighbour, Mr. Lenoir, is slowly dying. His wife will always be a
+child. Little Marion is older and more self-reliant. I feel as if they are
+our own children. There are so many who need us. They have always looked
+to me for guidance and help. You can do more for them than any one else.
+My calling is to heal others. You have always helped me. Do now as I ask
+you."
+
+At last she consented to leave for Piedmont on the following day, and he
+smiled.
+
+"Kiss Ben and Margaret for me and tell them that I'll be with them soon,"
+he said cheerily. He meant in the spirit, not the flesh. Not the faintest
+hope of life even flickered in his mind.
+
+In the last farewell embrace a faint tremor of the soul, half sigh, half
+groan, escaped his lips, and he drew her again to his breast, whispering:
+
+"Always my sweetheart, good, beautiful, brave, and true!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE JOY OF LIVING
+
+
+Within two weeks after the departure of Mrs. Cameron and Margaret, the
+wounded soldier had left the hospital with Elsie's hand resting on his arm
+and her keen eyes watching his faltering steps. She had promised Margaret
+to take her place until he was strong again. She was afraid to ask herself
+the meaning of the songs that were welling up from the depth of her own
+soul. She told herself again and again that she was fulfilling her ideal
+of unselfish human service.
+
+Ben's recovery was rapid, and he soon began to give evidence of his
+boundless joy in the mere fact of life.
+
+He utterly refused to believe his father in danger.
+
+"What, my dad a conspirator, an assassin!" he cried, with a laugh. "Why,
+he wouldn't kill a flea without apologising to it. And as for plots and
+dark secrets, he never had a secret in his life and couldn't keep one if
+he had it. My mother keeps all the family secrets. Crime couldn't stick to
+him any more than dirty water to a duck's back!"
+
+"But we must secure his release on parole, that he may defend himself."
+
+"Of course. But we won't cross any bridges till we come to them. I never
+saw things so bad they couldn't be worse. Just think what I've been
+through. The war's over. Don't worry."
+
+He looked at her tenderly.
+
+"Get that banjo and play 'Get out of the Wilderness!'"
+
+His spirit was contagious and his good humour resistless. Elsie spent the
+days of his convalescence in an unconscious glow of pleasure in his
+companionship. His handsome boyish face, his bearing, his whole
+personality, invited frankness and intimacy. It was a divine gift, this
+magnetism, the subtle meeting of quick intelligence, tact, and sympathy.
+His voice was tender and penetrating, with soft caresses in its tones. His
+vision of life was large and generous, with a splendid carelessness about
+little things that didn't count. Each day Elsie saw new and striking
+traits of his character which drew her.
+
+"What will we do if Stanton arrests you one of these fine days?" she asked
+him one day.
+
+"Afraid they'll nab me for something?" he exclaimed. "Well, that is a
+joke. Don't you worry. The Yankees know who to fool with. I licked 'em too
+many times for them to bother me any more."
+
+"I was under the impression that you got licked," Elsie observed.
+
+"Don't you believe it. We wore ourselves out whipping the other fellows."
+
+Elsie smiled, took up the banjo, and asked him to sing while she played.
+
+She had no idea that he could sing, yet to her surprise he sang his camp
+songs boldly, tenderly, and with deep, expressive feeling.
+
+As the girl listened, the memory of the horrible hours of suspense she had
+spent with his mother when his unconscious life hung on a thread came
+trooping back into her heart and a tear dimmed her eyes.
+
+And he began to look at her with a new wonder and joy slowly growing in
+his soul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+HIDDEN TREASURE
+
+
+Ben had spent a month of vain effort to secure his father's release. He
+had succeeded in obtaining for him a removal to more comfortable quarters,
+books to read, and the privilege of a daily walk under guard and parole.
+The doctor's genial temper, the wide range of his knowledge, the charm of
+his personality, and his heroism in suffering had captivated the surgeons
+who attended him and made friends of every jailer and guard.
+
+Elsie was now using all her woman's wit to secure a copy of the charges
+against him as formulated by the Judge Advocate General, who, in defiance
+of civil law, still claimed control of these cases.
+
+To the boy's sanguine temperament the whole proceeding had been a huge
+farce from the beginning, and at the last interview with his father he had
+literally laughed him into good humour.
+
+"Look here, pa," he cried. "I believe you're trying to slip off and leave
+us in this mess. It's not fair. It's easy to die."
+
+"Who said I was going to die?"
+
+"I heard you were trying to crawl out that way."
+
+"Well, it's a mistake. I'm going to live just for the fun of disappointing
+my enemies and to keep you company. But you'd better get hold of a copy of
+these charges against me--if you don't want me to escape."
+
+"It's a funny world if a man can be condemned to death without any
+information on the subject."
+
+"My son, we are now in the hands of the revolutionists, army sutlers,
+contractors, and adventurers. The Nation will touch the lowest tide-mud of
+its degradation within the next few years. No man can predict the end."
+
+"Oh, go 'long!" said Ben. "You've got jail cobwebs in your eyes."
+
+"I'm depending on you."
+
+"I'll pull you through if you don't lie down on me and die to get out of
+trouble. You know you _can_ die if you try hard enough."
+
+"I promise you, my boy," he said with a laugh.
+
+"Then I'll let you read this letter from home," Ben said, suddenly
+thrusting it before him.
+
+The doctor's hand trembled a little as he put on his glasses and read:
+
+  _My Dear Boy_: I cannot tell you how much good your bright letters
+  have done us. It's like opening the window and letting in the sunlight
+  while fresh breezes blow through one's soul.
+
+  Margaret and I have had stirring times. I send you enclosed an order
+  for the last dollar of money we have left. You must hoard it. Make it
+  last until your father is safe at home. I dare not leave it here.
+  Nothing is safe. Every piece of silver and everything that could be
+  carried has been stolen since we returned.
+
+  Uncle Aleck betrayed the place Jake had hidden our twenty precious
+  bales of cotton. The war is long since over, but the "Treasury Agent"
+  declared them confiscated, and then offered to relieve us of his order
+  if we gave him five bales, each worth three hundred dollars in gold. I
+  agreed, and within a week another thief came and declared the other
+  fifteen bales confiscated. They steal it, and the Government never
+  gets a cent. We dared not try to sell it in open market, as every bale
+  exposed for sale is "confiscated" at once.
+
+  No crop was planted this summer. The negroes are all drawing rations
+  at the Freedman's Bureau.
+
+  We have turned our house into a hotel, and our table has become
+  famous. Margaret is a treasure. She has learned to do everything. We
+  tried to raise a crop on the farm when we came home, but the negroes
+  stopped work. The Agent of the Bureau came to us and said he could
+  send them back for a fee of $50. We paid it, and they worked a week.
+  We found it easier to run a hotel. We hope to start the farm next
+  year.
+
+  Our new minister at the Presbyterian Church is young, handsome, and
+  eloquent--Rev. Hugh McAlpin.
+
+  Mr. Lenoir died last week--but his end was so beautiful, our tears
+  were half joy. He talked incessantly of your father and how the
+  country missed him. He seemed much better the day before the end came,
+  and we took him for a little drive to Lovers' Leap. It was there,
+  sixteen years ago, he made love to Jeannie. When we propped him up on
+  the rustic seat, and he looked out over the cliff and the river below,
+  I have never seen a face so transfigured with peace and joy.
+
+  "What a beautiful world it is, my dears!" he exclaimed, taking Jeannie
+  and Marion both by the hand.
+
+  They began to cry, and he said with a smile:
+
+  "Come now--do you love me?"
+
+  And they covered his hands with kisses.
+
+  "Well, then you must promise me two things faithfully here, with Mrs.
+  Cameron to witness!"
+
+  "We promise," they both said in a breath.
+
+  "That when I fall asleep, not one thread of black shall ever cloud the
+  sunlight of our little home, that you will never wear it, and that you
+  will show your love for me by making my flowers grow richer, that you
+  will keep my memory green by always being as beautiful as you are
+  to-day, and make this old world a sweeter place to live in. I wish
+  you, Jeannie, my mate, to keep on making the young people glad. Don't
+  let their joys be less even for a month because I have laid down to
+  rest. Let them sing and dance----"
+
+  "Oh, Papa!" cried Marion.
+
+  "Certainly, my little serious beauty--I'll not be far away, I'll be
+  near and breathe my songs into their hearts, and into yours--you both
+  promise?"
+
+  "Yes, yes!" they both cried.
+
+  As we drove back through the woods, he smiled tenderly and said to
+  me:
+
+  "My neighbour, Doctor Cameron, pays taxes on these woods, but I own
+  them! Their sighing boughs, stirred by the breezes, have played for me
+  oratorios grander than all the scores of human genius. I'll hear the
+  Choir Invisible play them when I sleep."
+
+  He died that night suddenly. With his last breath he sighed:
+
+  "Draw the curtains and let me see again the moonlit woods!"
+
+  They are trying to carry out his wishes. I found they had nothing to
+  eat, and that he had really died from insufficient nourishment--a
+  polite expression meaning starvation. I've divided half our little
+  store with them and send the rest to you. I think Marion more and more
+  the incarnate soul of her father. I feel as if they are both my
+  children.
+
+  My little grandchick, Hugh, is the sweetest youngster alive. He was a
+  wee thing when you left. Mrs. Lenoir kept him when they arrested your
+  father. He is so much like your brother Hugh I feel as if he has come
+  to life again. You should hear him say grace, so solemnly and
+  tenderly, we can't help crying. He made it up himself. This is what he
+  says at every meal:
+
+  "God, please give my grandpa something good to eat in jail, keep him
+  well, don't let the pains hurt him any more, and bring him home to me
+  quick, for Jesus' sake. Amen."
+
+  I never knew before how the people loved the doctor, nor how dependent
+  they were on him for help and guidance. Men, both white and coloured,
+  come here every day to ask about him. Some of them come from far up in
+  the mountains.
+
+  God alone knows how lonely our home and the world has seemed without
+  him. They say that those who love and live the close sweet home life
+  for years grow alike in soul and body, in tastes, ways, and habits. I
+  find it so. People have told me that your father and I are more alike
+  than brother and sister of the same blood. In spirit I'm sure it's
+  true. I know you love him and that you will leave nothing undone for
+  his health and safety. Tell him that my only cure for loneliness in
+  his absence is my fight to keep the wolf from the door, and save our
+  home against his coming.
+
+                                               Lovingly, your Mother.
+
+When the doctor had finished the reading, he looked out the window of the
+jail at the shining dome of the Capitol for a moment in silence.
+
+"Do you know, my boy, that you have the heritage of royal blood? You are
+the child of a wonderful mother. I'm ashamed when I think of the helpless
+stupor under which I have given up, and then remember the deathless
+courage with which she has braved it all--the loss of her boys, her
+property, your troubles and mine. She has faced the world alone like a
+wounded lioness standing over her cubs. And now she turns her home into a
+hotel, and begins life in a strange new world without one doubt of her
+success. The South is yet rich even in its ruin."
+
+"Then you'll fight and go back to her with me?"
+
+"Yes, never fear."
+
+"Good! You see, we're so poor now, pa, you're lucky to be saving a board
+bill here. I'd 'conspire' myself and come in with you but for the fact it
+would hamper me a little in helping you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+ACROSS THE CHASM
+
+
+When Ben had fully recovered and his father's case looked hopeful, Elsie
+turned to her study of music, and the Southern boy suddenly waked to the
+fact that the great mystery of life was upon him. He was in love at
+last--genuinely, deeply, without one reservation. He had from habit
+flirted in a harmless way with every girl he knew. He left home with
+little Marion Lenoir's girlish kiss warm on his lips. He had made love to
+many a pretty girl in old Virginia as the red tide of war had ebbed and
+flowed around Stuart's magic camps.
+
+But now the great hour of the soul had struck. No sooner had he dropped
+the first tender words that might have their double meaning, feeling his
+way cautiously toward her, than she had placed a gulf of dignity between
+them, and attempted to cut every tie that bound her life to his.
+
+It had been so sudden it took his breath away. Could he win her? The word
+"fail" had never been in his vocabulary. It had never run in the speech of
+his people.
+
+Yes, he would win if it was the only thing he did in this world. And
+forthwith he set about it. Life took on new meaning and new glory. What
+mattered war or wounds, pain or poverty, jails and revolutions--it was the
+dawn of life!
+
+He sent her a flower every day and pinned one just like it on his coat.
+And every night found him seated by her side. She greeted him cordially,
+but the gulf yawned between them. His courtesy and self-control struck her
+with surprise and admiration. In the face of her coldness he carried about
+him an air of smiling deference and gallantry.
+
+She finally told him of her determination to go to New York to pursue her
+studies until Phil had finished the term of his enlistment in his
+regiment, which had been ordered on permanent duty in the West.
+
+He laughed with his eyes at this announcement, blinking the lashes rapidly
+without moving his lips. It was a peculiar habit of his when deeply moved
+by a sudden thought. It had flashed over him like lightning that she was
+trying to get away from him. She would not do that unless she cared.
+
+"When are you going?" he asked quietly.
+
+"Day after to-morrow."
+
+"Then you will give me one afternoon for a sail on the river to say
+good-bye and thank you for what you have done for me and mine?"
+
+She hesitated, laughed, and refused.
+
+"To-morrow at four o'clock I'll call for you," he said firmly. "If there's
+no wind, we can drift with the tide."
+
+"I will not have time to go."
+
+"Promptly at four," he repeated as he left.
+
+Ben spent hours that night weighing the question of how far he should dare
+to speak his love. It had been such an easy thing before. Now it seemed a
+question of life and death. Twice the magic words had been on his lips,
+and each time something in her manner chilled him into silence.
+
+Was she cold and incapable of love? No; this manner of the North was on
+the surface. He knew that deep down within her nature lay banked and
+smouldering fires of passion for the one man whose breath could stir it
+into flame. He felt this all the keener now that the spell of her
+companionship and the sweet intimacy of her daily ministry to him had been
+broken. The memory of little movements of her petite figure, the glance of
+her warm amber eyes, and the touch of her hand--all had their tongues of
+revelation to his eager spirit.
+
+He found her ready at four o'clock.
+
+"You see I decided to go after all," she said.
+
+"Yes, I knew you would," he answered.
+
+She was dressed in a simple suit of navy-blue cloth cut V-shaped at the
+throat, showing the graceful lines of her exquisite neck as it melted into
+the plump shoulders. She had scorned hoop skirts.
+
+He admired her for this, and yet it made him uneasy. A woman who could
+defy an edict of fashion was a new thing under the sun, and it scared
+him.
+
+They were seated in the little sailboat now, drifting out with the tide.
+It was a perfect day in October, one of those matchless days of Indian
+summer in the Virginia climate when an infinite peace and vast brooding
+silence fill the earth and sky until one feels that words are a
+sacrilege.
+
+Neither of them spoke for minutes, and his heart grew bold in the
+stillness. No girl could be still who was unmoved.
+
+She was seated just in front of him on the left, with her hand idly
+rippling the surface of the silvery waters, gazing at the wooded cliff on
+the river banks clothed now in their gorgeous robes of yellow, purple,
+scarlet, and gold.
+
+The soft strains of distant music came from a band in the fort, and her
+hand in the rippling water seemed its accompaniment.
+
+Ben was conscious only of her presence. Every sight and sound of nature
+seemed to be blended in her presence. Never in all his life had he seen
+anything so delicately beautiful as the ripe rose colour of her cheeks,
+and all the tints of autumn's glory seemed to melt into the gold of her
+hair.
+
+And those eyes he felt that God had never set in such a face before--rich
+amber, warm and glowing, big and candid, courageous and truthful.
+
+"Are you dead again?" she asked demurely.
+
+"Well, as the Irishman said in answer to his mate's question when he fell
+off the house, 'not dead--but spacheless.'"
+
+He was quick to see the opening her question with its memories had made,
+and took advantage of it.
+
+"Look here, Miss Elsie, you're too honest, independent, and candid to play
+hide-and-seek with me. I want to ask you a plain question. You've been
+trying to pick a quarrel of late. What have I done?"
+
+"Nothing. It has simply come to me that our lives are far apart. The gulf
+between us is real and very deep. Your father was but yesterday a
+slaveholder----"
+
+Ben grinned:
+
+"Yes, your slave-trading grandfather sold them to us the day before."
+
+Elsie blushed and bristled for a fight.
+
+"You won't mind if I give you a few lessons in history, will you?" Ben
+asked softly.
+
+"Not in the least. I didn't know that Southerners studied history," she
+answered, with a toss of her head.
+
+"We made a specialty of the history of slavery, at least. I had a dear old
+teacher at home who fairly blazed with light on this subject. He is one of
+the best-read men in America. He happens to be in jail just now. But I
+haven't forgotten--I know it by heart."
+
+"I am waiting for light," she interrupted cynically.
+
+"The South is no more to blame for negro slavery than the North. Our
+slaves were stolen from Africa by Yankee skippers. When a slaver arrived
+at Boston, your pious Puritan clergyman offered public prayer of thanks
+that 'A gracious and overruling Providence had been pleased to bring to
+this land of freedom another cargo of benighted heathen to enjoy the
+blessings of a gospel dispensation----'"
+
+She looked at him with angry incredulity and cried:
+
+"Go on."
+
+"Twenty-three times the Legislature of Virginia passed acts against the
+importation of slaves, which the king vetoed on petition of the
+Massachusetts slave traders. Jefferson made these acts of the king one of
+the grievances of the Declaration of Independence, but a Massachusetts
+member succeeded in striking it out. The Southern men in the convention
+which framed the Constitution put into it a clause abolishing the slave
+trade, but the Massachusetts men succeeded in adding a clause extending
+the trade twenty years----"
+
+He smiled and paused.
+
+"Go on," she said, with impatience.
+
+"In Colonial days a negro woman was publicly burned to death in Boston.
+The first Abolition paper was published in Tennessee by Embree. Benjamin
+Lundy, his successor, could not find a single Abolitionist in Boston. In
+1828 over half the people of Tennessee favoured Abolition. At this time
+there were one hundred and forty Abolition Societies in America--one
+hundred and three in the South, and not one in Massachusetts. It was not
+until 1836 that Massachusetts led in Abolition--not until all her own
+slaves had been sold to us at a profit and the slave trade had been
+destroyed----"
+
+She looked at Ben with anger for a moment and met his tantalizing look of
+good humour.
+
+"Can you stand any more?"
+
+"Certainly, I enjoy it."
+
+"I'm just breaking down the barriers--so to speak," he said, with the
+laughter still lurking in his eyes, as he looked steadily ahead.
+
+"By all means go on," she said soberly. "I thought at first you were
+trying to tease me. I see that you are in earnest."
+
+"Never more so. This is about the only little path of history I'm at home
+in--I love to show off in it. I heard a cheerful idiot say the other day
+that your father meant to carry the civilization of Massachusetts to the
+Rio Grande until we had a Democracy in America. I smiled. While
+Massachusetts was enforcing laws about the dress of the rich and the poor,
+founding a church with a whipping-post, jail, and gibbet, and limiting the
+right to vote to a church membership fixed by pew rents, Carolina was the
+home of freedom where first the equal rights of men were proclaimed. New
+England people worth less than one thousand dollars were prohibited by law
+from wearing the garb of a gentleman, gold or silver lace, buttons on the
+knees, or to walk in great boots, or their women to wear silk or scarfs,
+while the Quakers, Maryland Catholics, Baptists, and Scotch-Irish
+Presbyterians were everywhere in the South the heralds of man's equality
+before the law."
+
+"But barring our ancestors, I have some things against the men of this
+generation."
+
+"Have I, too, sinned and come short?" he asked with mock gravity.
+
+"Our ideals of life are far apart," she firmly declared.
+
+"What ails my ideal?"
+
+"Your egotism, for one thing. The air with which you calmly select what
+pleases your fancy. Northern men are bad enough--the insolence of a
+Southerner is beyond words!"
+
+[Illustration: LILLIAN GISH AS ELSIE, AND THE SENTINEL.]
+
+"You don't say so!" cried Ben, bursting into a hearty laugh. "Isn't your
+aunt, Mrs. Farnham, the president of a club?"
+
+"Yes, and she is a very brilliant woman."
+
+"Enlighten me further."
+
+"I deny your heaven-born male kingship. The lord of creation is after all
+a very inferior animal--nearer the brute creation, weaker in infancy,
+shorter lived, more imperfectly developed, given to fighting, and addicted
+to idiocy. I never saw a female idiot in my life--did you?"
+
+"Come to think of it, I never did," acknowledged Ben with comic gravity.
+"What else?"
+
+"Isn't that enough?"
+
+"It's nothing. I agree with everything you say, but it is irrelevant. I'm
+studying law, you know."
+
+"I have a personality of my own. You and your kind assume the right to
+absorb all lesser lights."
+
+"Certainly, I'm a man."
+
+"I don't care to be absorbed by a mere man."
+
+"Don't wish to be protected, sheltered, and cared for?"
+
+"I dream of a life that shall be larger than the four walls of a home. I
+have never gone into hysterics over the idea of becoming a cook and
+housekeeper without wages, and snuffing my life out while another grows,
+expands, and claims the lordship of the world. I can sing. My voice is to
+me what eloquence is to man. My ideal is an intellectual companion who
+will inspire and lead me to develop all that I feel within to its highest
+reach."
+
+She paused a moment and looked defiantly into Ben's brown eyes, about
+which a smile was constantly playing. He looked away, and again the river
+echoed with his contagious laughter. She had to join in spite of herself.
+He laughed with boyish gayety. It danced in his eyes, and gave spring to
+every movement of his slender wiry body. She felt its contagion enfold
+her.
+
+His laughter melted into a song. In a voice vibrant with joy he sang, "If
+you get there before I do, tell 'em I'm comin' too!"
+
+As Elsie listened, her anger grew as she recalled the amazing folly that
+had induced her to tell the secret feelings of her inmost soul to this man
+almost a stranger. Whence came this miracle of influence about him, this
+gift of intimacy? She felt a shock as if she had been immodest. She was in
+an agony of doubt as to what he was thinking of her, and dreaded to meet
+his gaze.
+
+And yet, when he turned toward her, his whole being a smiling compound of
+dark Southern blood and bone and fire, at the sound of his voice all doubt
+and questioning melted.
+
+"Do you know," he said earnestly, "that you are the funniest, most
+charming girl I ever met?"
+
+"Thanks. I've heard your experience has been large for one of your age."
+
+Ben's eyes danced.
+
+"Perhaps, yes. You appeal to things in me that I didn't know were
+there--to all the senses of body and soul at once. Your strength of mind,
+with its conceits, and your quick little temper seem so odd and out of
+place, clothed in the gentleness of your beauty."
+
+"I was never more serious in my life. There are other things more personal
+about you that I do not like."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Your cavalier habits."
+
+"Cavalier fiddlesticks. There are no Cavaliers in my country. We are all
+Covenanter and Huguenot folks. The idea that Southern boys are lazy
+loafing dreamers is a myth. I was raised on the catechism."
+
+"You love to fish and hunt and frolic--you flirt with every girl you meet,
+and you drink sometimes. I often feel that you are cruel and that I do not
+know you."
+
+Ben's face grew serious, and the red scar in the edge of his hair suddenly
+became livid with the rush of blood.
+
+"Perhaps I don't mean that you shall know all yet," he said slowly. "My
+ideal of a man is one that leads, charms, dominates, and yet eludes. I
+confess that I'm close kin to an angel and a devil, and that I await a
+woman's hand to lead me into the ways of peace and life."
+
+The spiritual earnestness of the girl was quick to catch the subtle appeal
+of his last words. His broad, high forehead, straight, masterly nose, with
+its mobile nostrils, seemed to her very manly at just that moment and very
+appealing. A soft answer was on her lips.
+
+He saw it, and leaned toward her in impulsive tenderness. A timid look on
+her face caused him to sink back in silence.
+
+They had now drifted near the city. The sun was slowly sinking in a
+smother of fiery splendour that mirrored its changing hues in the still
+water. The hush of the harvest fullness of autumn life was over all
+nature. They passed a camp of soldiers and then a big hospital on the
+banks above. A gun flashed from the hill, and the flag dropped from its
+staff.
+
+The girl's eyes lingered on the flower in his coat a moment and then on
+the red scar in the edge of his dark hair, and somehow the difference
+between them seemed to melt into the falling twilight. Only his nearness
+was real. Again a strange joy held her.
+
+He threw her a look of tenderness, and she began to tremble. A sea gull
+poised a moment above them and broke into a laugh.
+
+Bending nearer, he gently took her hand, and said:
+
+"I love you!"
+
+A sob caught her breath and she buried her face on her arm.
+
+"I am for you, and you are for me. Why beat your wings against the thing
+that is and must be? What else matters? With all my sins and faults my
+land is yours--a land of sunshine, eternal harvests, and everlasting song,
+old-fashioned and provincial perhaps, but kind and hospitable. Around its
+humblest cottage song birds live and mate and nest and never leave. The
+winged ones of your own cold fields have heard their call, and the sky
+to-night will echo with their chatter as they hurry southward. Elsie, my
+own, I too have called--come; I love you!"
+
+She lifted her face to him full of tender spiritual charm, her eyes
+burning their passionate answer.
+
+He bent and kissed her.
+
+"Say it! Say it!" he whispered.
+
+"I love you!" she sighed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE GAUGE OF BATTLE
+
+
+The day of the first meeting of the National Congress after the war was
+one of intense excitement. The galleries of the House were packed. Elsie
+was there with Ben in a fever of secret anxiety lest the stirring drama
+should cloud her own life. She watched her father limp to his seat with
+every eye fixed on him.
+
+The President had pursued with persistence the plan of Lincoln for the
+immediate restoration of the Union. Would Congress follow the lead of the
+President or challenge him to mortal combat?
+
+Civil governments had been restored in all the Southern States, with men
+of the highest ability chosen as governors and lawmakers. Their
+legislatures had unanimously voted for the Thirteenth Amendment of the
+Constitution abolishing slavery, and elected senators and representatives
+to Congress. Mr. Seward, the Secretary of State, had declared the new
+amendment a part of the organic law of the Nation by the vote of these
+States.
+
+General Grant went to the South to report its condition and boldly
+declared:
+
+"I am satisfied that the mass of thinking people of the South accept the
+situation in good faith. Slavery and secession they regard as settled
+forever by the highest known tribunal, and consider this decision a
+fortunate one for the whole country."
+
+Would the Southerners be allowed to enter?
+
+Amid breathless silence the clerk rose to call the roll of members-elect.
+Every ear was bent to hear the name of the first Southern man. Not one was
+called! The Master had spoken. His clerk knew how to play his part.
+
+The next business of the House was to receive the message of the Chief
+Magistrate of the Nation.
+
+The message came, but not from the White House. It came from the seat of
+the Great Commoner.
+
+As the first thrill of excitement over the challenge to the President
+slowly subsided, Stoneman rose, planted his big club foot in the middle of
+the aisle, and delivered to Congress the word of its new master.
+
+It was Ben's first view of the man of all the world just now of most
+interest. From his position he could see his full face and figure.
+
+He began speaking in a careless, desultory way. His tone was loud yet not
+declamatory, at first in a grumbling, grandfatherly, half-humorous,
+querulous accent that riveted every ear instantly. A sort of drollery of a
+contagious kind haunted it. Here and there a member tittered in
+expectation of a flash of wit.
+
+His figure was taller than the average, slightly bent, with a dignity
+which suggested reserve power and contempt for his audience. One knew
+instinctively that back of the boldest word this man might say there was a
+bolder unspoken word he had chosen not to speak.
+
+His limbs were long, and their movements slow, yet nervous as from some
+internal fiery force. His hands were big and ugly, and always in
+ungraceful fumbling motion as though a separate soul dwelt within them.
+
+The heaped-up curly profusion of his brown wig gave a weird impression to
+the spread of his mobile features. His eagle-beaked nose had three
+distinct lines and angles. His chin was broad and bold, and his brows
+beetling and projecting. His mouth was wide, marked, and grim; when
+opened, deep and cavernous; when closed, it seemed to snap so tightly that
+the lower lip protruded.
+
+Of all his make-up, his eye was the most fascinating, and it held Ben
+spellbound. It could thrill to the deepest fibre of the soul that looked
+into it, yet it did not gleam. It could dominate, awe, and confound, yet
+it seemed to have no colour or fire. He could easily see it across the
+vast hall from the galleries, yet it was not large. Two bold, colourless
+dagger-points of light they seemed. As he grew excited, they darkened as
+if passing under a cloud.
+
+A sudden sweep of his huge apelike arm in an angular gesture, and the
+drollery and carelessness of his voice were riven from it as by a bolt of
+lightning.
+
+He was driving home his message now in brutal frankness. Yet in the height
+of his fiercest invective he never seemed to strengthen himself or call on
+his resources. In its climax he was careless, conscious of power, and
+contemptuous of results, as though as a gambler he had staked and lost all
+and in the moment of losing suddenly become the master of those who had
+beaten him.
+
+His speech never once bent to persuade or convince. He meant to brain the
+opposition with a single blow, and he did it. For he suddenly took the
+breath from his foes by shouting in their faces the hidden motive of which
+they were hoping to accuse him!
+
+"Admit these Southern Representatives," he cried, "and with the Democrats
+elected from the North, within one term they will have a majority in
+Congress and the Electoral College. The supremacy of our party's life is
+at stake. The man who dares palter with such a measure is a rebel, a
+traitor to his party and his people."
+
+A cheer burst from his henchmen, and his foes sat in dazed stupor at his
+audacity. He moved the appointment of a "Committee on Reconstruction" to
+whom the entire government of the "conquered provinces of the South"
+should be committed, and to whom all credentials of their pretended
+representatives should be referred.
+
+He sat down as the Speaker put his motion, declared it carried, and
+quickly announced the names of this Imperial Committee with the Hon.
+Austin Stoneman as its chairman.
+
+He then permitted the message of the President of the United States to be
+read by his clerk.
+
+"Well, upon my soul," said Ben, taking a deep breath and looking at Elsie,
+"he's the whole thing, isn't he?"
+
+The girl smiled with pride.
+
+"Yes; he is a genius. He was born to command and yet never could resist
+the cry of a child or the plea of a woman. He hates, but he hates ideas
+and systems. He makes threats, yet when he meets the man who stands for
+all he hates he falls in love with his enemy."
+
+"Then there's hope for me?"
+
+"Yes, but I must be the judge of the time to speak."
+
+"Well, if he looks at me as he did once to-day, you may have to do the
+speaking also."
+
+"You will like him when you know him. He is one of the greatest men in
+America."
+
+"At least he's the father of the greatest girl in the world, which is far
+more important."
+
+"I wonder if you know how important?" she asked seriously. "He is the
+apple of my eye. His bitter words, his cynicism and sarcasm, are all on
+the surface--masks that hide a great sensitive spirit. You can't know with
+what brooding tenderness I have always loved and worshipped him. I will
+never marry against his wishes."
+
+"I hope he and I will always be good friends," said Ben doubtfully.
+
+"You must," she replied, eagerly pressing his hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A WOMAN LAUGHS
+
+
+Each day the conflict waxed warmer between the President and the
+Commoner.
+
+The first bill sent to the White House to Africanize the "conquered
+provinces" the President vetoed in a message of such logic, dignity, and
+power, the old leader found to his amazement it was impossible to rally
+the two-thirds majority to pass it over his head.
+
+At first, all had gone as planned. Lynch and Howle brought to him a report
+on "Southern Atrocities," secured through the councils of the secret
+oath-bound Union League, which had destroyed the impression of General
+Grant's words and prepared his followers for blind submission to his
+Committee.
+
+Yet the rally of a group of men in defence of the Constitution had given
+the President unexpected strength.
+
+Stoneman saw that he must hold his hand on the throat of the South and
+fight another campaign. Howle and Lynch furnished the publication
+committee of the Union League the matter, and they printed four million
+five hundred thousand pamphlets on "Southern Atrocities."
+
+The Northern States were hostile to negro suffrage, the first step of his
+revolutionary programme, and not a dozen men in Congress had yet dared to
+favour it. Ohio, Michigan, New York, and Kansas had rejected it by
+overwhelming majorities. But he could appeal to their passions and
+prejudices against the "Barbarism" of the South. It would work like magic.
+When he had the South where he wanted it, he would turn and ram negro
+suffrage and negro equality down the throats of the reluctant North.
+
+His energies were now bent to prevent any effective legislation in
+Congress until his strength should be omnipotent.
+
+A cloud disturbed the sky for a moment in the Senate. John Sherman, of
+Ohio, began to loom on the horizon as a constructive statesman, and
+without consulting him was quietly forcing over Sumner's classic oratory a
+Reconstruction Bill restoring the Southern States to the Union on the
+basis of Lincoln's plan, with no provision for interference with the
+suffrage. It had gone to its last reading, and the final vote was
+pending.
+
+The house was in session at 3 a. m., waiting in feverish anxiety the
+outcome of this struggle in the Senate.
+
+Old Stoneman was in his seat, fast asleep from the exhaustion of an
+unbroken session of forty hours. His meals he had sent to his desk from
+the Capitol restaurant. He was seventy-four years old and not in good
+health, yet his energy was tireless, his resources inexhaustible, and his
+audacity matchless.
+
+Sunset Cox, the wag of the House, an opponent but personal friend of the
+old Commoner, passing his seat and seeing the great head sunk on his
+breast in sleep, laughed softly and said:
+
+"Mr. Speaker!"
+
+The presiding officer recognized the young Democrat with a nod of
+answering humour and responded:
+
+"The gentleman from New York."
+
+"I move you, sir," said Cox, "that, in view of the advanced age and
+eminent services of the distinguished gentleman from Pennsylvania, the
+Sergeant-at-Arms be instructed to furnish him with enough poker chips to
+last till morning!"
+
+The scattered members who were awake roared with laughter, the Speaker
+pounded furiously with his gavel, the sleepy little pages jumped up,
+rubbing their eyes, and ran here and there answering imaginary calls, and
+the whole House waked to its usual noise and confusion.
+
+The old man raised his massive head and looked to the door leading toward
+the Senate just as Sumner rushed through. He had slept for a moment, but
+his keen intellect had taken up the fight at precisely the point at which
+he left it.
+
+Sumner approached his desk rapidly, leaned over, and reported his defeat
+and Sherman's triumph.
+
+"For God's sake throttle this measure in the House or we are ruined!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+"Don't be alarmed," replied the cynic. "I'll be here with stronger weapons
+than articulated wind."
+
+"You have not a moment to lose. The bill is on its way to the Speaker's
+desk, and Sherman's men are going to force its passage to-night."
+
+The Senator returned to the other end of the Capitol wrapped in the mantle
+of his outraged dignity, and in thirty minutes the bill was defeated, and
+the House adjourned.
+
+As the old Commoner hobbled through the door, his crooked cane thumping
+the marble floor, Sumner seized and pressed his hand:
+
+"How did you do it?"
+
+Stoneman's huge jaws snapped together and his lower lip protruded:
+
+"I sent for Cox and summoned the leader of the Democrats. I told them if
+they would join with me and defeat this bill, I'd give them a better one
+the next session. And I will--negro suffrage! The gudgeons swallowed it
+whole!"
+
+Sumner lifted his eyebrows and wrapped his cloak a little closer.
+
+The Great Commoner laughed as he departed:
+
+"He is yet too good for this world, but he'll forget it before we're done
+this fight."
+
+On the steps a beggar asked him for a night's lodging, and he tossed him a
+gold eagle.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+The North, which had rejected negro suffrage for itself with scorn,
+answered Stoneman's fierce appeal to their passions against the South, and
+sent him a delegation of radicals eager to do his will.
+
+So fierce had waxed the combat between the President and Congress that the
+very existence of Stanton's prisoners languishing in jail was forgotten,
+and the Secretary of War himself became a football to be kicked back and
+forth in this conflict of giants. The fact that Andrew Johnson was from
+Tennessee, and had been an old-line Democrat before his election as a
+Unionist with Lincoln, was now a fatal weakness in his position. Under
+Stoneman's assaults he became at once an executive without a party, and
+every word of amnesty and pardon he proclaimed for the South in accordance
+with Lincoln's plan was denounced as the act of a renegade courting favour
+of traitors and rebels.
+
+Stanton remained in his cabinet against his wishes to insult and defy him,
+and Stoneman, quick to see the way by which the President of the Nation
+could be degraded and made ridiculous, introduced a bill depriving him of
+the power to remove his own cabinet officers. The act was not only meant
+to degrade the President; it was a trap set for his ruin. The penalties
+were so fixed that its violation would give specific ground for his trial,
+impeachment, and removal from office.
+
+Again Stoneman passed his first act to reduce the "conquered provinces" of
+the South to negro rule.
+
+President Johnson vetoed it with a message of such logic in defence of the
+constitutional rights of the States that it failed by one vote to find the
+two-thirds majority needed to become a law without his approval.
+
+The old Commoner's eyes froze into two dagger-points of icy light when
+this vote was announced.
+
+With fury he cursed the President, but above all he cursed the men of his
+own party who had faltered.
+
+As he fumbled his big hands nervously, he growled:
+
+"If I only had five men of genuine courage in Congress, I'd hang the man
+at the other end of the avenue from the porch of the White House! But I
+haven't got them--cowards, dastards, dolts, and snivelling fools----"
+
+His decision was instantly made. He would expel enough Democrats from the
+Senate and the House to place his two-thirds majority beyond question. The
+name of the President never passed his lips. He referred to him always,
+even in public debate, as "the man at the other end of the avenue," or
+"the former Governor of Tennessee who once threatened rebels--the late
+lamented Andrew Johnson, of blessed memory."
+
+He ordered the expulsion of the new member of the House from Indiana,
+Daniel W. Voorhees, and the new Senator from New Jersey, John P. Stockton.
+This would give him a majority of two thirds composed of men who would
+obey his word without a question.
+
+Voorhees heard of the edict with indignant wrath. He had met Stoneman in
+the lobbies, where he was often the centre of admiring groups of friends.
+His wit and audacity, and, above all, his brutal frankness, had won the
+admiration of the "Tall Sycamore of the Wabash." He could not believe such
+a man would be a party to a palpable fraud. He appealed to him
+personally:
+
+"Look here, Stoneman," the young orator cried with wrath, "I appeal to
+your sense of honour and decency. My credentials have been accepted by
+your own committee, and my seat been awarded me. My majority is
+unquestioned. This is a high-handed outrage. You cannot permit this
+crime."
+
+The old man thrust his deformed foot out before him, struck it
+meditatively with his cane, and looking Voorhees straight in the eye,
+boldly said:
+
+"There's nothing the matter with your majority, young man. I've no doubt
+it's all right. Unfortunately, you are a Democrat, and happen to be the
+odd man in the way of the two-thirds majority on which the supremacy of my
+party depends. You will have to go. Come back some other time." And he
+did.
+
+In the Senate there was a hitch. When the vote was taken on the expulsion
+of Stockton, to the amazement of the leader it was a tie.
+
+He hobbled into the Senate Chamber, with the steel point of his cane
+ringing on the marble flags as though he were thrusting it through the
+vitals of the weakling who had sneaked and hedged and trimmed at the
+crucial moment.
+
+He met Howle at the door.
+
+"What's the matter in there?" he asked.
+
+"They're trying to compromise."
+
+"Compromise--the Devil of American politics," he muttered. "But how did
+the vote fail--it was all fixed before the roll-call?"
+
+"Roman, of Maine, has trouble with his conscience! He is paired not to
+vote on this question with Stockton's colleague, who is sick in Trenton.
+His 'honour' is involved, and he refuses to break his word."
+
+"I see," said Stoneman, pulling his bristling brows down until his eyes
+were two beads of white gleaming through them. "Tell Wade to summon every
+member of the party in his room immediately and hold the Senate in
+session."
+
+When the group of Senators crowded into the Vice-president's room the old
+man faced them leaning on his cane and delivered an address of five
+minutes they never forgot.
+
+His speech had a nameless fascination. The man himself with his elemental
+passions was a wonder. He left on public record no speech worth reading,
+and yet these powerful men shrank under his glance. As the nostrils of his
+big three-angled nose dilated, the scream of an eagle rang in his voice,
+his huge ugly hand held the crook of his cane with the clutch of a tiger,
+his tongue flew with the hiss of an adder, and his big deformed foot
+seemed to grip the floor as the claw of a beast.
+
+"The life of a political party, gentlemen," he growled in conclusion, "is
+maintained by a scheme of subterfuges in which the moral law cuts no
+figure. As your leader, I know but one law--success. The world is full of
+fools who must have toys with which to play. A belief in politics is the
+favourite delusion of shallow American minds. But you and I have no
+delusions. Your life depends on this vote. If any man thinks the
+abstraction called 'honour' is involved, let him choose between his honour
+and his life! I call no names. This issue must be settled now before the
+Senate adjourns. There can be no to-morrow. It is life or death. Let the
+roll be called again immediately."
+
+The grave Senators resumed their seats, and Wade, the acting
+Vice-president, again put the question to Stockton's expulsion.
+
+The member from New England sat pale and trembling, in his soul the
+anguish of the mortal combat between his Puritan conscience, the iron
+heritage of centuries, and the order of his captain.
+
+When the Clerk of the Senate called his name, still the battle raged. He
+sat in silence, the whiteness of death about his lips, while the clerk at
+a signal from the Chair paused.
+
+And then a scene the like of which was never known in American history!
+August Senators crowded around his desk, begging, shouting, imploring, and
+demanding that a fellow Senator break his solemn word of honour!
+
+For a moment pandemonium reigned.
+
+"Vote! Vote! Call his name again!" they shouted.
+
+High above all rang the voice of Charles Sumner, leading the wild chorus,
+crying:
+
+"Vote! Vote! Vote!"
+
+The galleries hissed and cheered--the cheers at last drowning every hiss.
+
+Stoneman pushed his way among the mob which surrounded the badgered
+Puritan as he attempted to retreat into the cloakroom.
+
+"Will you vote?" he hissed, his eyes flashing poison.
+
+"My conscience will not permit it," he faltered.
+
+"To hell with your conscience!" the old leader thundered. "Go back to your
+seat, ask the clerk to call your name, and vote, or by the living God I'll
+read you out of the party to-night and brand you a snivelling coward, a
+copperhead, a renegade, and traitor!"
+
+Trembling from head to foot, he staggered back to his seat, the cold sweat
+standing in beads on his forehead, and gasped:
+
+"Call my name!"
+
+The shrill voice of the clerk rang out in the stillness like the peal of a
+trumpet:
+
+"Mr. Roman!"
+
+And the deed was done.
+
+A cheer burst from his colleagues, and the roll-call proceeded.
+
+When Stockton's name was reached he sprang to his feet, voted for himself,
+and made a second tie!
+
+With blank faces they turned to the leader, who ordered Charles Sumner to
+move that the Senator from New Jersey be not allowed to answer his name on
+an issue involving his own seat.
+
+It was carried. Again the roll was called, and Stockton expelled by a
+majority of one.
+
+In the moment of ominous silence which followed, a yellow woman of sleek
+animal beauty leaned far over the gallery rail and laughed aloud.
+
+The passage of each act of the Revolutionary programme over the veto of
+the President was now but a matter of form. The act to degrade his office
+by forcing him to keep a cabinet officer who daily insulted him, the Civil
+Rights Bill, and the Freedman's Bureau Bill followed in rapid succession.
+
+Stoneman's crowning Reconstruction Act was passed, two years after the war
+had closed, shattering the Union again into fragments, blotting the names
+of ten great Southern States from its roll, and dividing their territory
+into five Military Districts under the control of belted satraps.
+
+When this measure was vetoed by the President, it came accompanied by a
+message whose words will be forever etched in fire on the darkest page of
+the Nation's life.
+
+Amid hisses, curses, jeers, and cat-calls, the Clerk of the House read its
+burning words:
+
+"_The power thus given to the commanding officer over the people of each
+district is that of an absolute monarch. His mere will is to take the
+place of law. He may make a criminal code of his own; he can make it as
+bloody as any recorded in history, or he can reserve the privilege of
+acting on the impulse of his private passions in each case that arises._
+
+"_Here is a bill of attainer against nine millions of people at once. It
+is based upon an accusation so vague as to be scarcely intelligible, and
+found to be true upon no credible evidence. Not one of the nine millions
+was heard in his own defence. The representatives even of the doomed
+parties were excluded from all participation in the trial. The conviction
+is to be followed by the most ignominious punishment ever inflicted on
+large masses of men. It disfranchises them by hundreds of thousands and
+degrades them all--even those who are admitted to be guiltless--from the
+rank of freemen to the condition of slaves._
+
+"_Such power has not been wielded by any monarch in England for more than
+five hundred years, and in all that time no people who speak the English
+tongue have borne such servitude._"
+
+When the last jeering cat-call which greeted this message of the Chief
+Magistrate had died away on the floor and in the galleries, old Stoneman
+rose, with a smile playing about his grim mouth, and introduced his bill
+to impeach the President of the United States and remove him from office.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+A DREAM
+
+
+Elsie spent weeks of happiness in an abandonment of joy to the spell of
+her lover. His charm was resistless. His gift of delicate intimacy, the
+eloquence with which he expressed his love, and yet the manly dignity with
+which he did it, threw a spell no woman could resist.
+
+Each day's working hours were given to his father's case and to the study
+of law. If there was work to do, he did it, and then struck the word care
+from his life, giving himself body and soul to his love. Great events were
+moving. The shock of the battle between Congress and the President began
+to shake the Republic to its foundations. He heard nothing, felt nothing,
+save the music of Elsie's voice.
+
+And she knew it. She had only played with lovers before. She had never
+seen one of Ben's kind, and he took her by storm. His creed was simple.
+The chief end of life is to glorify the girl you love. Other things could
+wait. And he let them wait. He ignored their existence.
+
+But one cloud cast its shadow over the girl's heart during these
+red-letter days of life--the fear of what her father would do to her
+lover's people. Ben had asked her whether he must speak to him. When she
+said "No, not yet," he forgot that such a man lived. As for his politics,
+he knew nothing and cared less.
+
+But the girl knew and thought with sickening dread, until she forgot her
+fears in the joy of his laughter. Ben laughed so heartily, so
+insinuatingly, the contagion of his fun could not be resisted.
+
+He would sit for hours and confess to her the secrets of his boyish dreams
+of glory in war, recount his thrilling adventures and daring deeds with
+such enthusiasm that his cause seemed her own, and the pity and the
+anguish of the ruin of his people hurt her with the keen sense of personal
+pain. His love for his native State was so genuine, his pride in the
+bravery and goodness of its people so chivalrous, she began to see for the
+first time how the cords which bound the Southerner to his soil were of
+the heart's red blood.
+
+She began to understand why the war, which had seemed to her a wicked,
+cruel, and causeless rebellion, was the one inevitable thing in our growth
+from a loose group of sovereign States to a United Nation. Love had given
+her his point of view.
+
+Secret grief over her father's course began to grow into conscious fear.
+With unerring instinct she felt the fatal day drawing nearer when these
+two men, now of her inmost life, must clash in mortal enmity.
+
+She saw little of her father. He was absorbed with fevered activity and
+deadly hate in his struggle with the President.
+
+Brooding over her fears one night, she had tried to interest Ben in
+politics. To her surprise she found that he knew nothing of her father's
+real position or power as leader of his party. The stunning tragedy of the
+war had for the time crushed out of his consciousness all political ideas,
+as it had for most young Southerners. He took her hand while a dreamy look
+overspread his swarthy face:
+
+"Don't cross a bridge till you come to it. I learned that in the war.
+Politics are a mess. Let me tell you something that counts----"
+
+He felt her hand's soft pressure and reverently kissed it. "Listen," he
+whispered. "I was dreaming last night after I left you of the home we'll
+build. Just back of our place, on the hill overlooking the river, my
+father and mother planted trees in exact duplicate of the ones they placed
+around our house when they were married. They set these trees in honour of
+the first-born of their love, that he should make his nest there when
+grown. But it was not for him. He had pitched his tent on higher ground,
+and the others with him. This place will be mine. There are forty
+varieties of trees, all grown--elm, maple, oak, holly, pine, cedar,
+magnolia, and every fruit and flowering stem that grows in our friendly
+soil. A little house, built near the vacant space reserved for the
+homestead, is nicely kept by a farmer, and birds have learned to build in
+every shrub and tree. All the year their music rings its chorus--one long
+overture awaiting the coming of my bride----"
+
+Elsie sighed.
+
+"Listen, dear," he went on eagerly. "Last night I dreamed the South had
+risen from her ruins. I saw you there. I saw our home standing amid a
+bower of roses your hands had planted. The full moon wrapped it in soft
+light, while you and I walked hand in hand in silence beneath our trees.
+But fairer and brighter than the moon was the face of her I loved, and
+sweeter than all the songs of birds the music of her voice!"
+
+A tear dimmed the girl's warm eyes, and a deeper flush mantled her cheeks,
+as she lifted her face and whispered:
+
+"Kiss me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE KING AMUSES HIMSELF
+
+
+With savage energy the Great Commoner pressed to trial the first
+impeachment of a President of the United States for high crimes and
+misdemeanours.
+
+His bill to confiscate the property of the Southern people was already
+pending on the calendar of the House. This bill was the most remarkable
+ever written in the English language or introduced into a legislative body
+of the Aryan race. It provided for the confiscation of ninety per cent. of
+the land of ten great States of the American Union. To each negro in the
+South was allotted forty acres from the estate of his former master, and
+the remaining millions of acres were to be divided among the "loyal who
+had suffered by reason of the Rebellion."
+
+The execution of this, the most stupendous crime ever conceived by an
+English lawmaker, involving the exile and ruin of millions of innocent
+men, women, and children, could not be intrusted to Andrew Johnson.
+
+No such measure could be enforced so long as any man was President and
+Commander-in-chief of the Army and Navy who claimed his title under the
+Constitution. Hence the absolute necessity of his removal.
+
+The conditions of society were ripe for this daring enterprise.
+
+Not only was the Ship of State in the hands of revolutionists who had
+boarded her in the storm stress of a civic convulsion, but among them
+swarmed the pirate captains of the boldest criminals who ever figured in
+the story of a nation.
+
+The first great Railroad Lobby, with continental empires at stake,
+thronged the Capitol with its lawyers, agents, barkers, and hired
+courtesans.
+
+The Cotton Thieves, who operated through a ring of Treasury agents, had
+confiscated unlawfully three million bales of cotton hidden in the South
+during the war and at its close, the last resource of a ruined people. The
+Treasury had received a paltry twenty thousand bales for the use of its
+name with which to seize alleged "property of the Confederate Government."
+The value of this cotton, stolen from the widows and orphans, the maimed
+and crippled, of the South was over $700,000,000 in gold--a capital
+sufficient to have started an impoverished people again on the road to
+prosperity. The agents of this ring surrounded the halls of legislation,
+guarding their booty from envious eyes, and demanding the enactment of
+vaster schemes of legal confiscation.
+
+The Whiskey Ring had just been formed, and began its system of gigantic
+frauds by which it scuttled the Treasury.
+
+Above them all towered the figure of Oakes Ames, whose master mind had
+organized the _Crédit Mobilier_ steal. This vast infamy had already eaten
+its way into the heart of Congress and dug the graves of many illustrious
+men.
+
+So open had become the shame that Stoneman was compelled to increase his
+committees in the morning, when a corrupt majority had been bought the
+night before.
+
+He arose one day, and looking at the distinguished Speaker, who was
+himself the secret associate of Oakes Ames, said:
+
+"Mr. Speaker: while the House slept, the enemy has sown tares among our
+wheat. The corporations of this country, having neither bodies to be
+kicked nor souls to be lost, have, _perhaps_ by the power of argument
+alone, beguiled from the majority of my Committee the member from
+Connecticut. The enemy have now a majority of one. I move to increase the
+Committee to twelve."
+
+Speaker Colfax, soon to be hurled from the Vice-president's chair for his
+part with those thieves, increased his Committee.
+
+Everybody knew that "the power of argument alone" meant ten thousand
+dollars cash for the gentleman from Connecticut, who did not appear on the
+floor for a week, fearing the scorpion tongue of the old Commoner.
+
+A Congress which found it could make and unmake laws in defiance of the
+Executive went mad. Taxation soared to undreamed heights, while the
+currency was depreciated and subject to the wildest fluctuations.
+
+The statute books were loaded with laws that shackled chains of monopoly
+on generations yet unborn. Public lands wide as the reach of empires were
+voted as gifts to private corporations, and subsidies of untold millions
+fixed as a charge upon the people and their children's children.
+
+The demoralization incident to a great war, the waste of unheard-of sums
+of money, the giving of contracts involving millions by which fortunes
+were made in a night, the riot of speculation and debauchery by those who
+tried to get rich suddenly without labour, had created a new Capital of
+the Nation. The vulture army of the base, venal, unpatriotic, and corrupt,
+which had swept down, a black cloud, in wartime to take advantage of the
+misfortunes of the Nation, had settled in Washington and gave new tone to
+its life.
+
+Prior to the Civil War the Capital was ruled, and the standards of its
+social and political life fixed, by an aristocracy founded on brains,
+culture, and blood. Power was with few exceptions intrusted to an
+honourable body of high-spirited public officials. Now a negro electorate
+controlled the city government, and gangs of drunken negroes, its
+sovereign citizens, paraded the streets at night firing their muskets
+unchallenged and unmolested.
+
+A new mob of onion-laden breath, mixed with perspiring African odour,
+became the symbol of American Democracy.
+
+A new order of society sprouted in this corruption. The old high-bred
+ways, tastes, and enthusiasms were driven into the hiding-places of a few
+families and cherished as relics of the past.
+
+Washington, choked with scrofulous wealth, bowed the knee to the Almighty
+Dollar. The new altar was covered with a black mould of human blood--but
+no questions were asked.
+
+A mulatto woman kept the house of the foremost man of the Nation and
+received his guests with condescension.
+
+In this atmosphere of festering vice and gangrene passions, the struggle
+between the Great Commoner and the President on which hung the fate of the
+South approached its climax.
+
+The whole Nation was swept into the whirlpool, and business was paralyzed.
+Two years after the close of a victorious war the credit of the Republic
+dropped until its six per cent. bonds sold in the open market for
+seventy-three cents on the dollar.
+
+The revolutionary junta in control of the Capital was within a single step
+of the subversion of the Government and the establishment of a Dictator in
+the White House.
+
+A convention was called in Philadelphia to restore fraternal feeling, heal
+the wounds of war, preserve the Constitution, and restore the Union of the
+fathers. It was a grand assemblage representing the heart and brain of the
+Nation. Members of Lincoln's first Cabinet, protesting Senators and
+Congressmen, editors of great Republican and Democratic newspapers, heroes
+of both armies, long estranged, met for a common purpose. When a group of
+famous negro worshippers from Boston suddenly entered the hall, arm in arm
+with ex-slaveholders from South Carolina, the great meeting rose and walls
+and roof rang with thunder peals of applause.
+
+Their committee, headed by a famous editor, journeyed to Washington to
+appeal to the Master at the Capitol. They sought him not in the White
+House, but in the little Black House in an obscure street on the hill.
+
+The brown woman received them with haughty dignity, and said:
+
+"Mr. Stoneman cannot be seen at this hour. It is after nine o'clock. I
+will submit to him your request for an audience to-morrow morning."
+
+"We must see him to-night," replied the editor, with rising anger.
+
+"The king is amusing himself," said the yellow woman, with a touch of
+malice.
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+Her catlike eyes rolled from side to side, and a smile played about her
+full lips as she said:
+
+"You will find him at Hall & Pemberton's gambling hell--you've lived in
+Washington. You know the way."
+
+With a muttered oath the editor turned on his heel and led his two
+companions to the old Commoner's favourite haunt. There could be no better
+time or place to approach him than seated at one of its tables laden with
+rare wines and savoury dishes.
+
+On reaching the well-known number of Hall & Pemberton's place, the editor
+entered the unlocked door, passed with his friends along the soft-carpeted
+hall, and ascended the stairs. Here the door was locked. A sudden pull of
+the bell, and a pair of bright eyes peeped through a small grating in the
+centre of the door revealed by the sliding of its panel.
+
+The keen eyes glanced at the proffered card, the door flew open, and a
+well-dressed mulatto invited them with cordial welcome to enter.
+
+Passing along another hall, they were ushered into a palatial suite of
+rooms furnished in princely state. The floors were covered with the
+richest and softest carpets--so soft and yielding that the tramp of a
+thousand feet could not make the faintest echo. The walls and ceilings
+were frescoed by the brush of a great master, and hung with works of art
+worth a king's ransom. Heavy curtains, in colours of exquisite taste,
+masked each window, excluding all sound from within or without.
+
+The rooms blazed with light from gorgeous chandeliers of trembling
+crystals, shimmering and flashing from the ceilings like bouquets of
+diamonds.
+
+Negro servants, faultlessly dressed, attended the slightest want of every
+guest with the quiet grace and courtesy of the lost splendours of the old
+South.
+
+The proprietor, with courtly manners, extended his hand:
+
+"Welcome, gentlemen; you are my guests. The tables and the wines are at
+your service without price. Eat, drink, and be merry--play or not, as you
+please."
+
+A smile lighted his dark eyes, but faded out near his mouth--cold and
+rigid.
+
+At the farther end of the last room hung the huge painting of a leopard,
+so vivid and real its black and tawny colours, so furtive and wild its
+restless eyes, it seemed alive and moving behind invisible bars.
+
+Just under it, gorgeously set in its jewel-studded frame, stood the magic
+green table on which men staked their gold and lost their souls.
+
+The rooms were crowded with Congressmen, Government officials, officers of
+the Army and Navy, clerks, contractors, paymasters, lobbyists, and
+professional gamblers.
+
+The centre of an admiring group was a Congressman who had during the last
+session of the House broken the "bank" in a single night, winning more
+than a hundred thousand dollars. He had lost it all and more in two weeks,
+and the courteous proprietor now held orders for the lion's share of the
+total pay and mileage of nearly every member of the House of
+Representatives.
+
+Over that table thousands of dollars of the people's money had been staked
+and lost during the war by quartermasters, paymasters, and agents in
+charge of public funds. Many a man had approached that green table with a
+stainless name and left it a perjured thief. Some had been carried out by
+those handsomely dressed waiters, and the man with the cold mouth could
+point out, if he would, more than one stain on the soft carpet which
+marked the end of a tragedy deeper than the pen of romancer has ever
+sounded.
+
+Stoneman at the moment was playing. He was rarely a heavy player, but he
+had just staked a twenty-dollar gold piece and won fourteen hundred
+dollars.
+
+Howle, always at his elbow ready for a "sleeper" or a stake, said:
+
+"Put a stack on the ace."
+
+He did so, lost, and repeated it twice.
+
+"Do it again," urged Howle. "I'll stake my reputation that the ace wins
+this time."
+
+With a doubting glance at Howle, old Stoneman shoved a stack of blue
+chips, worth fifty dollars, over the ace, playing it to win on Howle's
+judgment and reputation. It lost.
+
+Without the ghost of a smile, the old statesman said: "Howle, you owe me
+five cents."
+
+As he turned abruptly on his club foot from the table, he encountered the
+editor and his friends, a Western manufacturer and a Wall Street banker.
+They were soon seated at a table in a private room, over a dinner of
+choice oysters, diamond-back terrapin, canvas-back duck, and champagne.
+
+They presented their plea for a truce in his fight until popular passion
+had subsided.
+
+He heard them in silence. His answer was characteristic:
+
+"The will of the people, gentlemen, is supreme," he said with a sneer. "We
+are the people. 'The man at the other end of the avenue' has dared to defy
+the will of Congress. He must go. If the Supreme Court lifts a finger in
+this fight, it will reduce that tribunal to one man or increase it to
+twenty at our pleasure."
+
+"But the Constitution----" broke in the chairman.
+
+"There are higher laws than paper compacts. We are conquerors treading
+conquered soil. Our will alone is the source of law. The drunken boor who
+claims to be President is in reality an alien of a conquered province."
+
+"We protest," exclaimed the man of money, "against the use of such
+epithets in referring to the Chief Magistrate of the Republic!"
+
+"And why, pray?" sneered the Commoner.
+
+"In the name of common decency, law, and order. The President is a man of
+inherent power, even if he did learn to read after his marriage. Like many
+other Americans, he is a self-made man----"
+
+"Glad to hear it," snapped Stoneman. "It relieves Almighty God of a
+fearful responsibility."
+
+They left him in disgust and dismay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+TOSSED BY THE STORM
+
+
+As the storm of passion raised by the clash between her father and the
+President rose steadily to the sweep of a cyclone, Elsie felt her own life
+but a leaf driven before its fury.
+
+Her only comfort she found in Phil, whose letters to her were full of love
+for Margaret. He asked Elsie a thousand foolish questions about what she
+thought of his chances.
+
+To her own confessions he was all sympathy.
+
+"Of father's wild scheme of vengeance against the South," he wrote, "I am
+heartsick. I hate it on principle, to say nothing of a girl I know. I am
+with General Grant for peace and reconciliation. What does your lover
+think of it all? I can feel your anguish. The bill to rob the Southern
+people of their land, which I hear is pending, would send your sweetheart
+and mine, our enemies, into beggared exile. What will happen in the South?
+Riot and bloodshed, of course--perhaps a guerilla war of such fierce and
+terrible cruelty humanity sickens at the thought. I fear the Rebellion
+unhinged our father's reason on some things. He was too old to go to the
+front; the cannon's breath would have cleared the air and sweetened his
+temper. But its healing was denied. I believe the tawny leopardess who
+keeps his house influences him in this cruel madness. I could wring her
+neck with exquisite pleasure. Why he allows her to stay and cloud his life
+with her she-devil temper and fog his name with vulgar gossip is beyond
+me."
+
+Seated in the park on the Capitol hill the day after her father had
+introduced his Confiscation Bill in the House, pending the impeachment of
+the President, she again attempted to draw Ben out as to his feelings on
+politics.
+
+She waited in sickening fear and bristling pride for the first burst of
+his anger which would mean their separation.
+
+"How do I feel?" he asked. "Don't feel at all. The surrender of General
+Lee was an event so stunning, my mind has not yet staggered past it.
+Nothing much can happen after that, so it don't matter."
+
+"Negro suffrage don't matter?"
+
+"No. We can manage the negro," he said calmly.
+
+"With thousands of your own people disfranchised?"
+
+"The negroes will vote with us, as they worked for us during the war. If
+they give them the ballot, they'll wish they hadn't."
+
+Ben looked at her tenderly, bent near, and whispered:
+
+"Don't waste your sweet breath talking about such things. My politics is
+bounded on the North by a pair of amber eyes, on the South by a dimpled
+little chin, on the East and West by a rosy cheek. Words do not frame its
+speech. Its language is a mere sign, a pressure of the lips--yet it
+thrills body and soul beyond all words."
+
+Elsie leaned closer, and looking at the Capitol, said wistfully:
+
+"I don't believe you know anything that goes on in that big marble
+building."
+
+"Yes, I do."
+
+"What happened there yesterday?"
+
+"You honoured it by putting your beautiful feet on its steps. I saw the
+whole huge pile of cold marble suddenly glow with warm sunlight and flash
+with beauty as you entered it."
+
+The girl nestled still closer to his side, feeling her utter helplessness
+in the rapids of the Niagara through which they were being whirled by
+blind and merciless forces. For the moment she forgot all fears in his
+nearness and the sweet pressure of his hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE SUPREME TEST
+
+
+It is the glory of the American Republic that every man who has filled the
+office of President has grown in stature when clothed with its power and
+has proved himself worthy of its solemn trust. It is our highest claim to
+the respect of the world and the vindication of man's capacity to govern
+himself.
+
+The impeachment of President Andrew Johnson would mark either the lowest
+tide-mud of degradation to which the Republic could sink, or its end. In
+this trial our system would be put to its severest strain. If a partisan
+majority in Congress could remove the Executive and defy the Supreme
+Court, stability to civic institutions was at an end, and the breath of a
+mob would become the sole standard of law.
+
+Congress had thrown to the winds the last shreds of decency in its
+treatment of the Chief Magistrate. Stoneman led this campaign of insult,
+not merely from feelings of personal hate, but because he saw that thus
+the President's conviction before the Senate would become all but
+inevitable.
+
+When his messages arrived from the White House they were thrown into the
+waste-basket without being read, amid jeers, hisses, curses, and ribald
+laughter.
+
+In lieu of their reading, Stoneman would send to the Clerk's desk an
+obscene tirade from a party newspaper, and the Clerk of the House would
+read it amid the mocking groans, laughter, and applause of the floor and
+galleries.
+
+A favourite clipping described the President as "an insolent drunken
+brute, in comparison with whom Caligula's horse was respectable."
+
+In the Senate, whose members were to sit as sworn judges to decide the
+question of impeachment, Charles Sumner used language so vulgar that he
+was called to order. Sustained by the Chair and the Senate, he repeated it
+with increased violence, concluding with cold venom:
+
+"Andrew Johnson has become the successor of Jefferson Davis. In holding
+him up to judgment I do not dwell on his beastly intoxication the day he
+took the oath as Vice-president, nor do I dwell on his maudlin speeches by
+which he has degraded the country, nor hearken to the reports of pardons
+sold, or of personal corruption. These things are bad. But he has usurped
+the powers of Congress."
+
+Conover, the perjured wretch, in prison for his crimes as a professional
+witness in the assassination trial, now circulated the rumour that he
+could give evidence that President Johnson was the assassin of Lincoln.
+Without a moment's hesitation, Stoneman's henchmen sent a petition to the
+President for the pardon of this villain that he might turn against the
+man who had pardoned him and swear his life away! This scoundrel was borne
+in triumph from prison to the Capitol and placed before the Impeachment
+Committee, to whom he poured out his wondrous tale.
+
+The sewers and prisons were dragged for every scrap of testimony to be
+found, and the day for the trial approached.
+
+As it drew nearer, excitement grew intense. Swarms of adventurers
+expecting the overthrow of the Government crowded into Washington. Dreams
+of honours, profits, and division of spoils held riot. Gamblers thronged
+the saloons and gaming-houses, betting their gold on the President's
+head.
+
+Stoneman found the business more serious than even his daring spirit had
+dreamed. His health suddenly gave way under the strain, and he was put to
+bed by his physician with the warning that the least excitement would be
+instantly fatal.
+
+Elsie entered the little Black House on the hill for the first time since
+her trip at the age of twelve, some eight years before. She installed an
+army nurse, took charge of the place, and ignored the existence of the
+brown woman, refusing to speak to her or permit her to enter her father's
+room.
+
+His illness made it necessary to choose an assistant to conduct the case
+before the High Court. There was but one member of the House whose
+character and ability fitted him for the place--General Benj. F. Butler,
+of Massachusetts, whose name was enough to start a riot in any assembly in
+America.
+
+His selection precipitated a storm at the Capitol. A member leaped to his
+feet on the floor of the House and shouted:
+
+"If I were to characterize all that is pusillanimous in war, inhuman in
+peace, forbidden in morals, and corrupt in politics, I could name it in
+one word--Butlerism!"
+
+For this speech he was ordered to apologize, and when he refused with
+scorn they voted that the Speaker publicly censure him. The Speaker did
+so, but winked at the offender while uttering the censure.
+
+John A. Bingham, of Ohio, who had been chosen for his powers of oratory to
+make the principal speech against the President, rose in the House and
+indignantly refused to serve on the Board of Impeachment with such a man.
+
+General Butler replied with crushing insolence:
+
+"It is true, Mr. Speaker, that I may have made an error of judgment in
+trying to blow up Fort Fisher with a powder ship at sea. I did the best I
+could with the talents God gave me. An angel could have done no more. At
+least I bared my own breast in my country's defence--a thing the
+distinguished gentleman who insults me has not ventured to do--his only
+claim to greatness being that, behind prison walls, on perjured testimony,
+his fervid eloquence sent an innocent American mother screaming to the
+gallows."
+
+The fight was ended only by an order from the old Commoner's bed to
+Bingham to shut his mouth and work with Butler. When the President had
+been crushed, then they could settle Kilkenny-cat issues. Bingham obeyed.
+
+When the august tribunal assembled in the Senate Chamber, fifty-five
+Senators, presided over by Salmon P. Chase, Chief Justice of the Supreme
+Court, constituted the tribunal. They took their seats in a semicircle in
+front of the Vice-president's desk at which the Chief Justice sat. Behind
+them crowded the one hundred and ninety members of the House of
+Representatives, the accusers of the ruler of the mightiest Republic in
+human history. Every inch of space in the galleries was crowded with
+brilliantly dressed men and women, army officers in gorgeous uniforms, and
+the pomp and splendour of the ministers of every foreign court of the
+world. In spectacular grandeur no such scene was ever before witnessed in
+the annals of justice.
+
+The peculiar personal appearance of General Butler, whose bald head shone
+with insolence while his eye seemed to be winking over his record as a
+warrior and making fun of his fellow-manager Bingham, added a touch of
+humour to the solemn scene.
+
+The magnificent head of the Chief Justice suggested strange thoughts to
+the beholder. He had been summoned but the day before to try Jefferson
+Davis for the treason of declaring the Southern States out of the Union.
+To-day he sat down to try the President of the United States for declaring
+them to be in the Union! He had protested with warmth that he could not
+conduct both these trials at once.
+
+The Chief Justice took oath to "do impartial justice according to the
+Constitution and the laws," and to the chagrin of Sumner administered this
+oath to each Senator in turn. When Benjamin F. Wade's name was called,
+Hendricks, of Indiana, objected to his sitting as judge. He could succeed
+temporarily to the Presidency, as the presiding officer of the Senate, and
+his own vote might decide the fate of the accused and determine his own
+succession. The law forbids the Vice-president to sit on such trials. It
+should apply with more vigour in his case. Besides, he had without a
+hearing already pronounced the President guilty.
+
+Sumner, forgetting his motion to prevent Stockton's voting against his own
+expulsion, flew to the defence of Wade. Hendricks smilingly withdrew his
+objection, and "Bluff Ben Wade" took the oath and sat down to judge his
+own cause with unruffled front.
+
+When the case was complete, the whole bill of indictment stood forth a
+tissue of stupid malignity without a shred of evidence to support its
+charges.
+
+On the last day of the trial, when the closing speeches were being made,
+there was a stir at the door. The throng of men, packing every inch of
+floor space, were pushed rudely aside. The crowd craned their necks,
+Senators turned and looked behind them to see what the disturbance meant,
+and the Chief Justice rapped for order.
+
+Suddenly through the dense mass appeared the forms of two gigantic negroes
+carrying an old man. His grim face, white and rigid, and his big club foot
+hanging pathetically from those black arms, could not be mistaken. A
+thrill of excitement swept the floor and galleries, and a faint cheer
+rippled the surface, quickly suppressed by the gavel.
+
+The negroes placed him in an armchair facing the semicircle of Senators,
+and crouched down on their haunches beside him. Their kinky heads, black
+skin, thick lips, white teeth, and flat noses made for the moment a
+curious symbolic frame for the chalk-white passion of the old Commoner's
+face.
+
+No sculptor ever dreamed a more sinister emblem of the corruption of a
+race of empire builders than this group. Its black figures, wrapped in the
+night of four thousand years of barbarism, squatted there the "equal" of
+their master, grinning at his forms of justice, the evolution of forty
+centuries of Aryan genius. To their brute strength the white fanatic in
+the madness of his hate had appealed, and for their hire he had bartered
+the birthright of a mighty race of freemen.
+
+The speaker hurried to his conclusion that the half-fainting master might
+deliver his message. In the meanwhile his eyes, cold and thrilling, sought
+the secrets of the souls of the judges before him.
+
+He had not come to plead or persuade. He had eluded the vigilance of his
+daughter and nurse, escaped with the aid of the brown woman and her black
+allies, and at the peril of his life had come to command. Every energy of
+his indomitable will he was using now to keep from fainting. He felt that
+if he could but look those men in the face they would not dare to defy his
+word.
+
+He shambled painfully to his feet amid a silence that was awful. Again the
+sheer wonder of the man's personality held the imagination of the
+audience. His audacity, his fanaticism, and the strange contradictions of
+his character stirred the mind of friend and foe alike--this man who
+tottered there before them, holding off Death with his big ugly left hand,
+while with his right he clutched at the throat of his foe! Honest and
+dishonest, cruel and tender, great and mean, a party leader who scorned
+public opinion, a man of conviction, yet the most unscrupulous politician,
+a philosopher who preached the equality of man, yet a tyrant who hated the
+world and despised all men!
+
+His very presence before them an open defiance of love and life and death,
+would not his word ring omnipotent when the verdict was rendered? Every
+man in the great courtroom believed it as he looked on the rows of
+Senators hanging on his lips.
+
+He spoke at first with unnatural vigour, a faint flush of fever lighting
+his white face, his voice quivering yet penetrating.
+
+"Upon that man among you who shall dare to acquit the President," he
+boldly threatened, "I hurl the everlasting curse of a Nation--an infamy
+that shall rive and blast his children's children until they shrink from
+their own name as from the touch of pollution!"
+
+He gasped for breath, his restless hands fumbled at his throat, he
+staggered and would have fallen had not his black guards caught him. He
+revived, pushed them back on their haunches, and sat down. And then, with
+his big club foot thrust straight in front of him, his gnarled hands
+gripping the arms of his chair, the massive head shaking back and forth
+like a wounded lion, he continued his speech, which grew in fierce
+intensity with each laboured breath.
+
+The effect was electrical. Every Senator leaned forward to catch the
+lowest whisper, and so awful was the suspense in the galleries the
+listeners grew faint.
+
+When this last mad challenge was hurled into the teeth of the judges, the
+dazed crowd paused for breath and the galleries burst into a storm of
+applause.
+
+In vain the Chief Justice rose, his lionlike face livid with anger,
+pounded for order, and commanded the galleries to be cleared.
+
+They laughed at him. Roar after roar was the answer. The Chief Justice in
+loud angry tones ordered the Sergeant-at-Arms to clear the galleries.
+
+Men leaned over the rail and shouted in his face:
+
+"He can't do it!"
+
+"He hasn't got men enough!"
+
+"Let him try if he dares!"
+
+The doorkeepers attempted to enforce order by announcing it in the name of
+the peace and dignity and sovereign power of the Senate over its sacred
+chamber. The crowd had now become a howling mob which jeered them.
+
+Senator Grimes, of Iowa, rose and demanded the reason why the Senate was
+thus insulted and the order had not been enforced.
+
+A volley of hisses greeted his question.
+
+The Chief Justice, evidently quite nervous, declared the order would be
+enforced.
+
+Senator Trumbull, of Illinois, moved that the offenders be arrested.
+
+In reply the crowd yelled:
+
+"We'd like to see you do it!"
+
+At length the mob began to slowly leave the galleries under the impression
+that the High Court had adjourned.
+
+Suddenly a man cried out:
+
+"Hold on! They ain't going to adjourn. Let's see it out!"
+
+Hundreds took their seats again. In the corridors a crowd began to sing in
+wild chorus:
+
+"Old Grimes is dead, that poor old man." The women joined with glee.
+Between the verses the leader would curse the Iowa Senator as a traitor
+and copperhead. The singing could be distinctly heard by the Court as its
+roar floated through the open doors.
+
+When the Senate Chamber had been cleared and the most disgraceful scene
+that ever occurred within its portals had closed, the High Court
+Impeachment went into secret session to consider the evidence and its
+verdict.
+
+Within an hour from its adjournment it was known to the Managers that
+seven Republican Senators were doubtful, and that they formed a group
+under the leadership of two great constitutional lawyers who still
+believed in the sanctity of a judge's oath--Lyman Trumbull, of Illinois,
+and William Pitt Fessenden, of Maine. Around them had gathered Senators
+Grimes, of Iowa, Van Winkle, of West Virginia, Fowler, of Tennessee,
+Henderson, of Missouri, and Ross, of Kansas. The Managers were in a panic.
+If these men dared to hold together with the twelve Democrats, the
+President would be acquitted by one vote--they could count thirty-four
+certain for conviction.
+
+The Revolutionists threw to the winds the last scruple of decency, went
+into caucus and organized a conspiracy for forcing, within the few days
+which must pass before the verdict, these judges to submit to their
+decree.
+
+Fessenden and Trumbull were threatened with impeachment and expulsion from
+the Senate and bombarded by the most furious assaults from the press,
+which denounced them as infamous traitors, "as mean, repulsive, and
+noxious as hedgehogs in the cages of a travelling menagerie."
+
+A mass meeting was held in Washington which said:
+
+"Resolved, that we impeach Fessenden, Trumbull, and Grimes at the bar of
+justice and humanity, as traitors before whose guilt the infamy of
+Benedict Arnold becomes respectability and decency."
+
+The Managers sent out a circular telegram to every State from which came a
+doubtful judge:
+
+"Great danger to the peace of the country if impeachment fails. Send your
+Senators public opinion by resolutions, letters, and delegates."
+
+The man who excited most wrath was Ross, of Kansas. That Kansas of all
+States should send a "traitor" was more than the spirits of the
+Revolutionists could bear.
+
+A mass meeting in Leavenworth accordingly sent him the telegram:
+
+"Kansas has heard the evidence and demands the conviction of the
+President.
+
+"D. R. Anthony and 1,000 others."
+
+To this Ross replied:
+
+"I have taken an oath to do impartial justice. I trust I shall have the
+courage and honesty to vote according to the dictates of my judgment and
+for the highest good of my country."
+
+He got his answer:
+
+"Your motives are Indian contracts and greenbacks. Kansas repudiates you
+as she does all perjurers and skunks."
+
+The Managers organized an inquisition for the purpose of torturing and
+badgering Ross into submission. His one vote was all they lacked.
+
+They laid siege to little Vinnie Ream, the sculptress, to whom Congress
+had awarded a contract for the statue of Lincoln. Her studio was in the
+crypt of the Capitol. They threatened her with the wrath of Congress, the
+loss of her contract, and ruin of her career unless she found a way to
+induce Senator Ross, whom she knew, to vote against the President.
+
+Such an attempt to gain by fraud the verdict of a common court of law
+would have sent its promoters to prison for felony. Yet the Managers of
+this case, before the highest tribunal of the world, not only did it
+without a blush of shame, but cursed as a traitor every man who dared to
+question their motives.
+
+As the day approached for the Court to vote, Senator Ross remained to
+friend and foe a sealed mystery. Reporters swarmed about him, the target
+of a thousand eyes. His rooms were besieged by his radical constituents
+who had been imported from Kansas in droves to browbeat him into a promise
+to convict. His movements day and night, his breakfast, his dinner, his
+supper, the clothes he wore, the colour of his cravat, his friends and
+companions, were chronicled in hourly bulletins and flashed over the wires
+from the delirious Capital.
+
+Chief Justice Chase called the High Court of Impeachment to order, to
+render its verdict. Old Stoneman had again been carried to his chair in
+the arms of two negroes, and sat with his cold eyes searching the faces of
+the judges.
+
+The excitement had reached the highest pitch of intensity. A sense of
+choking solemnity brooded over the scene. The feeling grew that the hour
+had struck which would test the capacity of man to establish an enduring
+Republic.
+
+The Clerk read the Eleventh Article, drawn by the Great Commoner as the
+supreme test.
+
+As its last words died away the Chief Justice rose amid a silence that was
+agony, placed his hands on the sides of the desk as if to steady himself,
+and said:
+
+"Call the roll."
+
+Each Senator answered "Guilty" or "Not Guilty," exactly as they had been
+counted by the Managers, until Fessenden's name was called.
+
+A moment of stillness and the great lawyer's voice rang high, cold, clear,
+and resonant as a Puritan church bell on Sunday morning:
+
+"Not Guilty!"
+
+A murmur, half groan and sigh, half cheer and cry, rippled the great
+hall.
+
+The other votes were discounted now save that of Edmund G. Ross, of
+Kansas. No human being on earth knew what this man would do save the
+silent invisible man within his soul.
+
+Over the solemn trembling silence the voice of the Chief Justice rang:
+
+"Senator Ross, how say you? Is the respondent, Andrew Johnson, guilty or
+not guilty of a high misdemeanor as charged in this article?"
+
+The great Judge bent forward; his brow furrowed as Ross arose.
+
+His fellow Senators watched him spellbound. A thousand men and women,
+hanging from the galleries, focused their eyes on him. Old Stoneman drew
+his bristling brows down, watching him like an adder ready to strike, his
+lower lip protruding, his jaws clinched as a vise, his hands fumbling the
+arms of his chair.
+
+Every breath is held, every ear strained, as the answer falls from the
+sturdy Scotchman like the peal of a trumpet:
+
+"Not Guilty!"
+
+The crowd breathes--a pause, a murmur, the shuffle of a thousand feet----
+
+The President is acquitted, and the Republic lives!
+
+The House assembled and received the report of the verdict. Old Stoneman
+pulled himself half erect, holding to his desk, addressed the Speaker,
+introduced his second bill for the impeachment of the President, and fell
+fainting in the arms of his black attendants.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+TRIUMPH IN DEFEAT
+
+
+Upon the failure to convict the President, Edwin M. Stanton resigned, sank
+into despair and died, and a soldier Secretary of War opened the prison
+doors.
+
+Ben Cameron and his father hurried Southward to a home and land passing
+under a cloud darker than the dust and smoke of blood-soaked
+battlefields--the Black Plague of Reconstruction.
+
+For two weeks the old Commoner wrestled in silence with Death. When at
+last he spoke, it was to the stalwart negroes who had called to see him
+and were standing by his bedside.
+
+Turning his deep-sunken eyes on them a moment, he said slowly:
+
+"I wonder whom I'll get to carry me when you boys die!"
+
+Elsie hurried to his side and kissed him tenderly. For a week his mind
+hovered in the twilight that lies between time and eternity. He seemed to
+forget the passions and fury of his fierce career and live over the
+memories of his youth, recalling pathetically its bitter poverty and its
+fair dreams. He would lie for hours and hold Elsie's hand, pressing it
+gently.
+
+In one of his lucid moments he said:
+
+"How beautiful you are, my child! You shall be a queen. I've dreamed of
+boundless wealth for you and my boy. My plans are Napoleonic--and I shall
+not fail--never fear--aye, beyond the dreams of avarice!"
+
+"I wish no wealth save the heart treasure of those I love, father," was
+the soft answer.
+
+"Of course, little day-dreamer. But the old cynic who has outlived himself
+and knows the mockery of time and things will be wisdom for your
+foolishness. You shall keep your toys. What pleases you shall please me.
+Yet I will be wise for us both."
+
+She laid her hand upon his lips, and he kissed the warm little fingers.
+
+In these days of soul-nearness the iron heart softened as never before in
+love toward his children. Phil had hurried home from the West and secured
+his release from the remaining weeks of his term of service.
+
+As the father lay watching them move about the room, the cold light in his
+deep-set wonderful eyes would melt into a soft glow.
+
+As he grew stronger, the old fierce spirit of the unconquered leader began
+to assert itself. He would take up the fight where he left it off and
+carry it to victory.
+
+Elsie and Phil sent the doctor to tell him the truth and beg him to quit
+politics.
+
+"Your work is done; you have but three months to live unless you go South
+and find new life," was the verdict.
+
+"In either event I go to a warmer climate, eh, doctor?" said the cynic.
+
+"Perhaps," was the laughing reply.
+
+"Good. It suits me better. I've had the move in mind. I can do more
+effective work in the South for the next two years. Your decision is fate.
+I'll go at once."
+
+The doctor was taken aback.
+
+"Come now," he said persuasively. "Let a disinterested Englishman give you
+some advice. You've never taken any before. I give it as medicine, and I
+won't put it on your bill. Slow down on politics. Your recent defeat
+should teach you a lesson in conservatism."
+
+The old Commoner's powerful mouth became rigid, and the lower lip bulged:
+
+"Conservatism--fossil putrefaction!"
+
+"But defeat?"
+
+"Defeat?" cried the old man. "Who said I was defeated? The South lies in
+ashes at my feet--the very names of her proud States blotted from history.
+The Supreme Court awaits my nod. True, there's a man boarding in the White
+House, and I vote to pay his bills; but the page who answers my beck and
+call has more power. Every measure on which I've set my heart is law, save
+one--my Confiscation Act--and this but waits the fulness of time."
+
+The doctor, who was walking back and forth with his hands folded behind
+him, paused and said:
+
+"I marvel that a man of your personal integrity could conceive such a
+measure; you, who refused to accept the legal release of your debts until
+the last farthing was paid--you, whose cruelty of the lip is hideous, and
+yet beneath it so gentle a personality, I've seen the pages in the House
+stand at your back and mimic you while speaking, secure in the smile with
+which you turned to greet their fun. And yet you press this crime upon a
+brave and generous foe?"
+
+"A wrong can have no rights," said Stoneman calmly. "Slavery will not be
+dead until the landed aristocracy on which it rested is destroyed. I am
+not cruel or unjust. I am but fulfilling the largest vision of universal
+democracy that ever stirred the soul of man--a democracy that shall know
+neither rich nor poor, bond nor free, white nor black. If I use the wild
+pulse-beat of the rage of millions, it is only a means to an end--this
+grander vision of the soul."
+
+"Then why not begin at home this vision, and give the stricken South a
+moment to rise?"
+
+"No. The North is impervious to change, rich, proud, and unscathed by war.
+The South is in chaos and cannot resist. It is but the justice and wisdom
+of Heaven that the negro shall rule the land of his bondage. It is the
+only solution of the race problem. Lincoln's contention that we could not
+live half white and half black is sound at the core. When we proclaim
+equality, social, political, and economic for the negro, we mean always to
+enforce it in the South. The negro will never be treated as an equal in
+the North. We are simply a set of cold-blooded liars on that subject, and
+always have been. To the Yankee the very physical touch of a negro is
+pollution."
+
+"Then you don't believe this twaddle about equality?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes and no. Mankind in the large is a herd of mercenary gudgeons or
+fools. As a lawyer in Pennsylvania I have defended fifty murderers on
+trial for their lives. Forty-nine of them were guilty. All these I
+succeeded in acquitting. One of them was innocent. This one they hung. Can
+a man keep his face straight in such a world? Could negro blood degrade
+such stock? Might not an ape improve it? I preach equality as a poet and
+seer who sees a vision beyond the rim of the horizon of to-day."
+
+The old man's eyes shone with the set stare of a fanatic.
+
+"And you think the South is ready for this wild vision?"
+
+"Not ready, but helpless to resist. As a cold-blooded, scientific
+experiment, I mean to give the Black Man one turn at the Wheel of Life. It
+is an act of just retribution. Besides, in my plans I need his vote; and
+that settles it."
+
+"But will your plans work? Your own reports show serious trouble in the
+South already."
+
+Stoneman laughed.
+
+"I never read my own reports. They are printed in molasses to catch flies.
+The Southern legislatures played into my hands by copying the laws of New
+England relating to Servants, Masters, Apprentices, and Vagrants. But even
+these were repealed at the first breath of criticism. Neither the
+Freedman's Bureau nor the army has ever loosed its grip on the throat of
+the South for a moment. These disturbances and 'atrocities' are dangerous
+only when printed on campaign fly-paper."
+
+"And how will you master and control these ten great Southern States?"
+
+"Through my Reconstruction Acts by means of the Union League. As a secret
+between us, I am the soul of this order. I organized it in 1863 to secure
+my plan of confiscation. We pressed it on Lincoln. He repudiated it. We
+nominated Frémont at Cleveland against Lincoln in '64, and tried to split
+the party or force Lincoln to retire. Frémont, a conceited ass, went back
+on this plank in our platform, and we dropped him and helped elect Lincoln
+again."
+
+"I thought the Union League a patriotic and social organization?" said the
+doctor in surprise.
+
+"It has these features, but its sole aim as a secret order is to
+confiscate the property of the South. I will perfect this mighty
+organization until every negro stands drilled in serried line beneath its
+banners, send a solid delegation here to do my bidding, and return at the
+end of two years with a majority so overwhelming that my word will be law.
+I will pass my Confiscation Bill. If Ulysses S. Grant, the coming idol,
+falters, my second bill of Impeachment will only need the change of a
+name."
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+"Give up this madness. Your life is hanging by a thread. The Southern
+people even in their despair will never drink this black broth you are
+pressing to their lips."
+
+"They've got to drink it."
+
+"Your decision is unalterable?"
+
+"Absolutely. It's the breath I breathe. As my physician you may select the
+place to which I shall be banished. It must be reached by rail and wire. I
+care not its name or size. I'll make it the capital of the Nation.
+There'll be poetic justice in setting up my establishment in a fallen
+slaveholder's mansion."
+
+The doctor looked intently at the old man:
+
+"The study of men has become a sort of passion with me, but you are the
+deepest mystery I've yet encountered in this land of surprises."
+
+"And why?" asked the cynic.
+
+"Because the secret of personality resides in motives, and I can't find
+yours either in your actions or words."
+
+Stoneman glanced at him sharply from beneath his wrinkled brows and
+snapped.
+
+"Keep on guessing."
+
+"I will. In the meantime I'm going to send you to the village of Piedmont,
+South Carolina. Your son and daughter both seem enthusiastic over this
+spot."
+
+"Good; that settles it. And now that mine own have been conspiring against
+me," said Stoneman confidentially, "a little guile on my part. Not a word
+of what has passed between us to my children. Tell them I agree with your
+plans and give up my work. I'll give the same story to the press--I wish
+nothing to mar their happiness while in the South. My secret burdens need
+not cloud their young lives."
+
+Dr. Barnes took the old man by the hand:
+
+"I promise. My assistant has agreed to go with you. I'll say good-bye.
+It's an inspiration to look into a face like yours, lit by the splendour
+of an unconquerable will! But I want to say something to you before you
+set out on this journey."
+
+"Out with it," said the Commoner.
+
+"The breed to which the Southern white man belongs has conquered every
+foot of soil on this earth their feet have pressed for a thousand years. A
+handful of them hold in subjection three hundred millions in India. Place
+a dozen of them in the heart of Africa, and they will rule the continent
+unless you kill them----"
+
+"Wait," cried Stoneman, "until I put a ballot in the hand of every negro
+and a bayonet at the breast of every white man from the James to the Rio
+Grande!"
+
+"I'll tell you a little story," said the doctor with a smile. "I once had
+a half-grown eagle in a cage in my yard. The door was left open one day,
+and a meddlesome rooster hopped in to pick a fight. The eagle had been
+sick a week and seemed an easy mark. I watched. The rooster jumped and
+wheeled and spurred and picked pieces out of his topknot. The young eagle
+didn't know at first what he meant. He walked around dazed, with a hurt
+expression. When at last it dawned on him what the chicken was about, he
+simply reached out one claw, took the rooster by the neck, planted the
+other claw in his breast, and snatched his head off."
+
+The old man snapped his massive jaws together and grunted contemptuously.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Book III--The Reign of Terror
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+A FALLEN SLAVEHOLDER'S MANSION
+
+
+Piedmont, South Carolina, which Elsie and Phil had selected for reasons
+best known to themselves as the place of retreat for their father, was a
+favourite summer resort of Charleston people before the war.
+
+Ulster county, of which this village was the capital, bordered on the
+North Carolina line, lying alongside the ancient shore of York. It was
+settled by the Scotch folk who came from the North of Ireland in the great
+migrations which gave America three hundred thousand people of Covenanter
+martyr blood, the largest and most important addition to our population,
+larger in number than either the Puritans of New England or the so-called
+Cavaliers of Virginia and Eastern Carolina; and far more important than
+either, in the growth of American nationality.
+
+To a man they had hated Great Britain. Not a Tory was found among them.
+The cries of their martyred dead were still ringing in their souls when
+George III started on his career of oppression. The fiery words of Patrick
+Henry, their spokesman in the valley of Virginia, had swept the
+aristocracy of the Old Dominion into rebellion against the King and on
+into triumphant Democracy. They had made North Carolina the first home of
+freedom in the New World, issued the first Declaration of Independence in
+Mecklenburg, and lifted the first banner of rebellion against the tyranny
+of the Crown.
+
+They grew to the soil wherever they stopped, always home lovers and home
+builders, loyal to their own people, instinctive clan leaders and clan
+followers. A sturdy, honest, covenant-keeping, God-fearing, fighting
+people, above all things they hated sham and pretence. They never boasted
+of their families, though some of them might have quartered the royal arms
+of Scotland on their shields.
+
+To these sturdy qualities had been added a strain of Huguenot tenderness
+and vivacity.
+
+The culture of cotton as the sole industry had fixed African slavery as
+their economic system. With the heritage of the Old World had been blended
+forces inherent in the earth and air of the new Southland, something of
+the breath of its unbroken forests, the freedom of its untrod mountains,
+the temper of its sun, and the sweetness of its tropic perfumes.
+
+When Mrs. Cameron received Elsie's letter, asking her to secure for them
+six good rooms at the "Palmetto" hotel, she laughed. The big rambling
+hostelry had been burned by roving negroes, pigs were wallowing in the
+sulphur springs, and along its walks, where lovers of olden days had
+strolled, the cows were browsing on the shrubbery.
+
+But she laughed for a more important reason. They had asked for a six-room
+cottage if accommodations could not be had in the hotel.
+
+She could put them in the Lenoir place. The cotton crop from their farm
+had been stolen from the gin--the cotton tax of $200 could not be paid,
+and a mortgage was about to be foreclosed on both their farm and home. She
+had been brooding over their troubles in despair. The Stonemans' coming
+was a godsend.
+
+Mrs. Cameron was helping them set the house in order to receive the new
+tenants.
+
+"I declare," said Mrs. Lenoir gratefully. "It seems too good to be true.
+Just as I was about to give up--the first time in my life--here came those
+rich Yankees and with enough rent to pay the interest on the mortgages and
+our board at the hotel. I'll teach Margaret to paint, and she can give
+Marion lessons on the piano. The darkest hour's just before day. And last
+week I cried when they told me I must lose the farm."
+
+"I was heartsick over it for you."
+
+"You know, the farm was my dowry with the dozen slaves Papa gave us on our
+wedding-day. The negroes did as they pleased, yet we managed to live and
+were very happy."
+
+Marion entered and placed a bouquet of roses on the table, touching them
+daintily until she stood each flower apart in careless splendour. Their
+perfume, the girl's wistful dreamy blue eyes and shy elusive beauty, all
+seemed a part of the warm sweet air of the June morning. Mrs. Lenoir
+watched her lovingly.
+
+"Mamma, I'm going to put flowers in every room. I'm sure they haven't such
+lovely ones in Washington," said Marion eagerly, as she skipped out.
+
+The two women moved to the open window, through which came the drone of
+bees and the distant music of the river falls.
+
+"Marion's greatest charm," whispered her mother, "is in her way of doing
+things easily and gently without a trace of effort. Watch her bend over to
+get that rose. Did you ever see anything like the grace and symmetry of
+her figure--she seems a living flower!"
+
+"Jeannie, you're making an idol of her----"
+
+"Why not? With all our troubles and poverty, I'm rich in her! She's
+fifteen years old, her head teeming with romance. You know, I was married
+at fifteen. There'll be a half dozen boys to see her to-night in our new
+home--all of them head over heels in love with her."
+
+"Oh, Jeannie, you must not be so silly! We should worship God only."
+
+"Isn't she God's message to me and to the world?"
+
+"But if anything should happen to her----"
+
+The young mother laughed. "I never think of it. Some things are fixed. Her
+happiness and beauty are to me the sign of God's presence."
+
+"Well, I'm glad you're coming to live with us in the heart of town. This
+place is a cosey nest, just such a one as a poet lover would build here in
+the edge of these deep woods, but it is too far out for you to be alone.
+Dr. Cameron has been worrying about you ever since he came home."
+
+"I'm not afraid of the negroes. I don't know one of them who wouldn't go
+out of his way to do me a favour. Old Aleck is the only rascal I know
+among them, and he's too busy with politics now even to steal a chicken."
+
+"And Gus, the young scamp we used to own; you haven't forgotten him? He is
+back here, a member of the company of negro troops, and parades before the
+house every day to show off his uniform. Dr. Cameron told him yesterday
+he'd thrash him if he caught him hanging around the place again. He
+frightened Margaret nearly to death when she went to the barn to feed her
+horse."
+
+"I've never known the meaning of fear. We used to roam the woods and
+fields together all hours of the day and night: my lover, Marion, and I.
+This panic seems absurd to me."
+
+"Well, I'll be glad to get you two children under my wing. I was afraid
+I'd find you in tears over moving from your nest."
+
+"No, where Marion is I'm at home, and I'll feel I've a mother when I get
+with you."
+
+"Will you come to the hotel before they arrive?"
+
+"No; I'll welcome and tell them how glad I am they have brought me good
+luck."
+
+"I'm delighted, Jeannie. I wished you to do this, but I couldn't ask it. I
+can never do enough for this old man's daughter. We must make their stay
+happy. They say he's a terrible old Radical politician, but I suppose he's
+no meaner than the others. He's very ill, and she loves him devotedly. He
+is coming here to find health, and not to insult us. Besides, he was kind
+to me. He wrote a letter to the President. Nothing that I have will be too
+good for him or for his. It's very brave and sweet of you to stay and meet
+them."
+
+"I'm doing it to please Marion. She suggested it last night, sitting out
+on the porch in the twilight. She slipped her arm around me and said:
+
+"'Mamma, we must welcome them and make them feel at home. He is very ill.
+They will be tired and homesick. Suppose it were you and I, and we were
+taking my Papa to a strange place.'"
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the Stonemans arrived, the old man was too ill and nervous from the
+fatigue of the long journey to notice his surroundings or to be conscious
+of the restful beauty of the cottage into which they carried him. His room
+looked out over the valley of the river for miles, and the glimpse he got
+of its broad fertile acres only confirmed his ideas of the "slaveholding
+oligarchy" it was his life-purpose to crush. Over the mantel hung a steel
+engraving of Calhoun. He fell asleep with his deep, sunken eyes resting on
+it and a cynical smile playing about his grim mouth.
+
+Margaret and Mrs. Cameron had met the Stonemans and their physician at the
+train, and taken Elsie and her father in the old weather-beaten family
+carriage to the Lenoir cottage, apologising for Ben's absence.
+
+"He has gone to Nashville on some important legal business, and the doctor
+is ailing, but as the head of the clan Cameron he told me to welcome your
+father to the hospitality of the county, and beg him to let us know if he
+could be of help."
+
+The old man, who sat in a stupor of exhaustion, made no response, and
+Elsie hastened to say:
+
+"We appreciate your kindness more than I can tell you, Mrs. Cameron. I
+trust father will be better in a day or two, when he will thank you. The
+trip has been more than he could bear."
+
+"I am expecting Ben home this week," the mother whispered. "I need not
+tell you that he will be delighted at your coming."
+
+Elsie smiled and blushed.
+
+"And I'll expect Captain Stoneman to see me very soon," said Margaret
+softly. "You will not forget to tell him for me?"
+
+"He's a very retiring young man," said Elsie, "and pretends to be busy
+about our baggage just now. I'm sure he will find the way."
+
+Elsie fell in love at sight with Marion and her mother. Their easy genial
+manners, the genuineness of their welcome, and the simple kindness with
+which they sought to make her feel at home put her heart into a warm
+glow.
+
+Mrs. Lenoir explained the conveniences of the place and apologized for its
+defects, the results of the war.
+
+"I am sorry about the window curtains--we have used them all for dresses.
+Marion is a genius with a needle, and we took the last pair out of the
+parlour to make a dress for a birthday party. The year before, we used the
+ones in my room for a costume at a starvation party in a benefit for our
+rector--you know we're Episcopalians--strayed up here for our health from
+Charleston among these good Scotch Presbyterians."
+
+"We will soon place curtains at the windows," said Elsie cheerfully.
+
+"The carpets were sent to the soldiers for blankets during the war. It was
+all we could do for our poor boys, except to cut my hair and sell it. You
+see my hair hasn't grown out yet. I sent it to Richmond the last year of
+the war. I felt I must do something when my neighbours were giving so
+much. You know Mrs. Cameron lost four boys."
+
+"I prefer the floors bare," Elsie replied. "We will get a few rugs."
+
+She looked at the girlish hair hanging in ringlets about Mrs. Lenoir's
+handsome face, smiled pathetically, and asked:
+
+"Did you really make such sacrifices for your cause?"
+
+"Yes, indeed. I was glad when the war was ended for some things. We
+certainly needed a few pins, needles, and buttons, to say nothing of a cup
+of coffee or tea."
+
+"I trust you will never lack for anything again," said Elsie kindly.
+
+"You will bring us good luck," Mrs. Lenoir responded. "Your coming is so
+fortunate. The cotton tax Congress levied was so heavy this year we were
+going to lose everything. Such a tax when we are all about to starve! Dr.
+Cameron says it was an act of stupid vengeance on the South, and that no
+other farmers in America have their crops taxed by the National
+Government. I am so glad your father has come. He is not hunting for an
+office. He can help us, maybe."
+
+"I am sure he will," answered Elsie thoughtfully.
+
+Marion ran up the steps lightly, her hair dishevelled and face flushed.
+
+"Now, Mamma, it's almost sundown; you get ready to go. I want her awhile
+to show her about my things."
+
+She took Elsie shyly by the hand and led her into the lawn, while her
+mother paid a visit to each room, and made up the last bundle of odds and
+ends she meant to carry to the hotel.
+
+"I hope you will love the place as we do," said the girl simply.
+
+"I think it very beautiful and restful," Elsie replied. "This wilderness
+of flowers looks like fairyland. You have roses running on the porch
+around the whole length of the house."
+
+"Yes, Papa was crazy over the trailing roses, and kept planting them until
+the house seems just a frame built to hold them, with a roof on it. But
+you can see the river through the arches from three sides. Ben Cameron
+helped me set that big beauty on the south corner the day he ran away to
+the war----"
+
+"The view is glorious!" Elsie exclaimed, looking in rapture over the river
+valley.
+
+The village of Piedmont crowned an immense hill on the banks of the Broad
+River, just where it dashes over the last stone barrier in a series of
+beautiful falls and spreads out in peaceful glory through the plains
+toward Columbia and the distant sea. The muffled roar of these falls,
+rising softly through the trees on its wooded cliff, held the daily life
+of the people in the spell of distant music. In fair weather it soothed
+and charmed, and in storm and freshet rose to the deep solemn growl of
+thunder.
+
+The river made a sharp bend as it emerged from the hills and flowed
+westward for six miles before it turned south again. Beyond this six-mile
+sweep of its broad channel loomed the three ranges of the Blue Ridge
+Mountains, the first one dark, rich, distinct, clothed in eternal green,
+the last one melting in dim lines into the clouds and soft azure of the
+sky.
+
+As the sun began to sink now behind these distant peaks, each cloud that
+hung about them burst into a blazing riot of colour. The silver mirror of
+the river caught their shadows, and the water glowed in sympathy.
+
+As Elsie drank the beauty of the scene, the music of the falls ringing its
+soft accompaniment, her heart went out in a throb of love and pity for the
+land and its people.
+
+"Can you blame us for loving such a spot?" said Marion. "It's far more
+beautiful from the cliff at Lover's Leap. I'll take you there some day. My
+father used to tell me that this world was Heaven, and that the spirits
+would all come back to live here when sin and shame and strife were
+gone."
+
+"Are your father's poems published?" asked Elsie.
+
+"Only in the papers. We have them clipped and pasted in a scrapbook. I'll
+show you the one about Ben Cameron some day. You met him in Washington,
+didn't you?"
+
+"Yes," said Elsie quietly.
+
+"Then I know he made love to you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You're so pretty. He couldn't help it."
+
+"Does he make love to every pretty girl?"
+
+"Always. It's his religion. But he does it so beautifully you can't help
+believing it, until you compare notes with the other girls."
+
+"Did he make love to you?"
+
+"He broke my heart when he ran away. I cried a whole week. But I got over
+it. He seemed so big and grown when he came home this last time. I was
+afraid to let him kiss me."
+
+"Did he dare to try?"
+
+"No, and it hurt my feelings. You see, I'm not quite old enough to be
+serious with the big boys, and he looked so brave and handsome with that
+ugly scar on the edge of his forehead, and everybody was so proud of him.
+I was just dying to kiss him, and I thought it downright mean in him not
+to offer it."
+
+"Would you have let him?"
+
+"I expected him to try."
+
+"He is very popular in Piedmont?"
+
+"Every girl in town is in love with him."
+
+"And he in love with all?"
+
+"He pretends to be--but between us, he's a great flirt. He's gone to
+Nashville now on some pretended business. Goodness only knows where he got
+the money to go. I believe there's a girl there."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because he was so mysterious about his trip. I'll keep an eye on him at
+the hotel. You know Margaret, too, don't you?"
+
+"Yes; we met her in Washington."
+
+"Well, she's the slyest flirt in town--it runs in the blood--has a
+half-dozen beaux to see her every day. She plays the organ in the
+Presbyterian Sunday school, and the young minister is dead in love with
+her. They say they are engaged. I don't believe it. I think it's another
+one. But I must hurry, I've so much to show and tell you. Come here to the
+honeysuckle----"
+
+Marion drew the vines apart from the top of the fence and revealed a
+mocking-bird on her nest.
+
+"She's setting. Don't let anything hurt her. I'd push her off and show you
+her speckled eggs, but it's so late."
+
+"Oh, I wouldn't hurt her for the world!" cried Elsie with delight.
+
+"And right here," said Marion, bending gracefully over a tall bunch of
+grass, "is a pee-wee's nest, four darling little eggs; look out for
+that."
+
+Elsie bent and saw the pretty nest perched on stems of grass, and over it
+the taller leaves drawn to a point.
+
+"Isn't it cute!" she murmured.
+
+"Yes; I've six of these and three mocking-bird nests. I'll show them to
+you. But the most particular one of all is the wren's nest in the fork of
+the cedar, close to the house."
+
+She led Elsie to the tree, and about two feet from the ground, in the
+forks of the trunk, was a tiny hole from which peeped the eyes of a wren.
+
+"Whatever you do, don't let anything hurt her. Her mate sings
+'_Free-nigger! Free-nigger! Free-nigger!_' every morning in this cedar."
+
+"And you think we will specially enjoy that?" asked Elsie, laughing.
+
+"Now, really," cried Marion, taking Elsie's hand, "you know I couldn't
+think of such a mean joke. I forgot you were from the North. You seem so
+sweet and homelike. He really does sing that way. You will hear him in the
+morning, bright and early, '_Free-nigger! Free-nigger! Free-nigger!_' just
+as plain as I'm saying it."
+
+"And did you learn to find all these birds' nests by yourself?"
+
+"Papa taught me. I've got some jay-birds and some cat-birds so gentle they
+hop right down at my feet. Some people hate jay-birds. But I like them,
+they seem to be having such a fine time and enjoy life so. You don't mind
+jay-birds, do you?"
+
+"I love every bird that flies."
+
+"Except hawks and owls and buzzards----"
+
+"Well, I've seen so few I can't say I've anything particular against
+them."
+
+"Yes, they eat chickens--except the buzzards, and they're so ugly and
+filthy. Now, I've a chicken to show you--please don't let Aunt
+Cindy--she's to be your cook--please don't let her kill him--he's
+crippled--has something the matter with his foot. He was born that way.
+Everybody wanted to kill him, but I wouldn't let them. I've had an awful
+time raising him, but he's all right now."
+
+Marion lifted a box and showed her the lame pet, softly clucking his
+protest against the disturbance of his rest.
+
+"I'll take good care of _him_, never fear," said Elsie, with a tremor in
+her voice.
+
+"And I have a queer little black cat I wanted to show you, but he's gone
+off somewhere. I'd take him with me--only it's bad luck to move cats. He's
+awful wild--won't let anybody pet him but me. Mamma says he's an imp of
+Satan--but I love him. He runs up a tree when anybody else tries to get
+him. But he climbs right up on my shoulder. I never loved any cat quite as
+well as this silly, half-wild one. You don't mind black cats, do you?"
+
+"No, dear; I like cats."
+
+"Then I know you'll be good to him."
+
+"Is that all?" asked Elsie, with amused interest.
+
+"No, I've the funniest yellow dog that comes here at night to pick up the
+scraps and things. He isn't my dog--just a little personal friend of
+mine--but I like him very much, and always give him something. He's very
+cute. I think he's a nigger dog."
+
+"A nigger dog? What's that?"
+
+"He belongs to some coloured people, who don't give turn enough to eat. I
+love him because he's so faithful to his own folks. He comes to see me at
+night and pretends to love me, but as soon as I feed him he trots back
+home. When he first came, I laughed till I cried at his antics over a
+carpet--we had a carpet then. He never saw one before, and barked at the
+colours and the figures in the pattern. Then he'd lie down and rub his
+back on it and growl. You won't let anybody hurt him?"
+
+"No. Are there any others?"
+
+"Yes, I 'most forgot. If Sam Ross comes--Sam's an idiot who lives at the
+poorhouse--if he comes, he'll expect a dinner--my, my, I'm afraid he'll
+cry when he finds we're not here! But you can send him to the hotel to me.
+Don't let Aunt Cindy speak rough to him. Aunt Cindy's awfully good to me,
+but she can't bear Sam. She thinks he brings bad luck."
+
+"How on earth did you meet him?"
+
+"His father was rich. He was a good friend of my Papa's. We came near
+losing our farm once, because a bank failed. Mr. Ross sent Papa a signed
+check on his own bank, and told him to write the amount he needed on it,
+and pay him when he was able. Papa cried over it, and wouldn't use it, and
+wrote a poem on the back of the check--one of the sweetest of all, I
+think. In the war Mr. Ross lost his two younger sons, both killed at
+Gettysburg. His wife died heartbroken, and he only lived a year afterward.
+He sold his farm for Confederate money and everything was lost. Sam was
+sent to the poorhouse. He found out somehow that we loved him and comes to
+see us. He's as harmless as a kitten, and works in the garden
+beautifully."
+
+"I'll remember," Elsie promised.
+
+"And one thing more," she said hesitatingly. "Mamma asked me to speak to
+you of this--that's why she slipped away. There one little room we have
+locked. It was Papa's study just as he left it, with his papers scattered
+on the desk, the books and pictures that he loved--you won't mind?"
+
+Elsie slipped her arm about Marion, looked into the blue eyes, dim with
+tears, drew her close and said:
+
+"It shall be sacred, my child. You must come every day if possible, and
+help me."
+
+"I will. I've so many beautiful places to show you in the woods--places he
+loved, and taught us to see and love. They won't let me go in the woods
+any more alone. But you have a big brother. That must be very sweet."
+
+Mrs. Lenoir hurried to Elsie.
+
+"Come, Marion, we must be going now."
+
+"I am very sorry to see you leave the home you love so dearly, Mrs.
+Lenoir," said the Northern girl, taking her extended hand. "I hope you can
+soon find a way to have it back."
+
+"Thank you," replied the mother cheerily. "The longer you stay, the better
+for us. You don't know how happy I am over your coming. It has lifted a
+load from our hearts. In the liberal rent you pay us you are our
+benefactors. We are very grateful and happy."
+
+Elsie watched them walk across the lawn to the street, the daughter
+leaning on the mother's arm. She followed slowly and stopped behind one of
+the arbor-vitæ bushes beside the gate. The full moon had risen as the
+twilight fell and flooded the scene with soft white light. A whippoorwill
+struck his first plaintive note, his weird song seeming to come from all
+directions and yet to be under her feet. She heard the rustle of dresses
+returning along the walk, and Marion and her mother stood at the gate.
+They looked long and tenderly at the house. Mrs. Lenoir uttered a broken
+sob, Marion slipped an arm around her, brushed the short curling hair back
+from her forehead, and softly said:
+
+"Mamma, dear, you know it's best. I don't mind. Everybody in town loves
+us. Every boy and girl in Piedmont worships you. We will be just as happy
+at the hotel."
+
+In the pauses between the strange bird's cry, Elsie caught the sound of
+another sob, and then a soothing murmur as of a mother bending over a
+cradle, and they were gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE EYES OF THE JUNGLE
+
+
+Elsie stood dreaming for a moment in the shadow of the arbor-vitæ,
+breathing the sensuous perfumed air and listening to the distant music of
+the falls, her heart quivering in pity for the anguish of which she had
+been a witness. Again the spectral cry of the whippoorwill rang near-by,
+and she noted for the first time the curious cluck with which the bird
+punctuated each call. A sense of dim foreboding oppressed her.
+
+She wondered if the chatter of Marion about the girl in Nashville were
+only a child's guess or more. She laughed softly at the absurdity of the
+idea. Never since she had first looked into Ben Cameron's face did she
+feel surer of the honesty and earnestness of his love than to-day in this
+quiet home of his native village. It must be the queer call of the bird
+which appealed to superstitions she did not know were hidden within her
+being.
+
+Still dreaming under its spell, she was startled at the tread of two men
+approaching the gate.
+
+The taller, more powerful-looking man put his hand on the latch and
+paused.
+
+"Allow no white man to order you around. Remember you are a freeman and as
+good as any pale-face who walks this earth."
+
+She recognized the voice of Silas Lynch.
+
+"Ben Cameron dare me to come about de house," said the other voice.
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"He say, wid his eyes batten' des like lightnen', 'Ef I ketch you hangin'
+'roun' dis place agin', Gus, I'll jump on you en stomp de life outen
+ye.'"
+
+"Well, you tell him that your name is Augustus, not 'Gus,' and that the
+United States troops quartered in this town will be with him soon after
+the stomping begins. You wear its uniform. Give the white trash in this
+town to understand that they are not even citizens of the nation. As a
+sovereign voter, you, once their slave, are not only their equal--you are
+their master."
+
+"Dat I will!" was the firm answer.
+
+The negro to whom Lynch spoke disappeared in the direction taken by Marion
+and her mother, and the figure of the handsome mulatto passed rapidly up
+the walk, ascended the steps and knocked at the door.
+
+Elsie followed him.
+
+"My father is too much fatigued with his journey to be seen now; you must
+call to-morrow," she said.
+
+The negro lifted his hat and bowed:
+
+"Ah, we are delighted to welcome you, Miss Stoneman, to our land! Your
+father asked me to call immediately on his arrival. I have but obeyed his
+orders."
+
+Elsie shrank from the familiarity of his manner and the tones of authority
+and patronage with which he spoke.
+
+"He cannot be seen at this hour," she answered shortly.
+
+"Perhaps you will present my card, then--say that I am at his service, and
+let him appoint the time at which I shall return?"
+
+She did not invite him in, but with easy assurance he took his seat on the
+joggle-board beside the door and awaited her return.
+
+Against her urgent protest, Stoneman ordered Lynch to be shown at once to
+his bedroom.
+
+When the door was closed, the old Commoner, without turning to greet his
+visitor or moving his position in bed, asked:
+
+"Are you following my instructions?"
+
+"To the letter, sir."
+
+"You are initiating the negroes into the League and teaching them the new
+catechism?"
+
+"With remarkable success. Its secrecy and ritual appeal to them. Within
+six months we shall have the whole race under our control almost to a
+man."
+
+"_Almost_ to a man?"
+
+"We find some so attached to their former masters that reason is
+impossible with them. Even threats and the promise of forty acres of land
+have no influence."
+
+The old man snorted with contempt.
+
+"If anything could reconcile me to the Satanic Institution it is the
+character of the wretches who submit to it and kiss the hand that strikes.
+After all, a slave deserves to be a slave. The man who is mean enough to
+wear chains ought to wear them. You must teach, _teach_, TEACH these black
+hounds to know they are men, not brutes!"
+
+The old man paused a moment, and his restless hands fumbled the cover.
+
+"Your first task, as I told you in the beginning, is to teach every negro
+to stand erect in the presence of his former master and assert his
+manhood. Unless he does this, the South will bristle with bayonets in
+vain. The man who believes he is a dog, is one. The man who believes
+himself a king, may become one. Stop this snivelling and sneaking round
+the back doors. I can do nothing, God Almighty can do nothing, for a
+coward. Fix this as the first law of your own life. Lift up your head! The
+world is yours. Take it. Beat this into the skulls of your people, if you
+do it with an axe. Teach them the military drill at once. I'll see that
+Washington sends the guns. The state, when under your control, can furnish
+the powder."
+
+"It will surprise you to know the thoroughness with which this has been
+done already by the League," said Lynch. "The white master believed he
+could vote the negro as he worked him in the fields during the war. The
+League, with its blue flaming altar, under the shadows of night, has
+wrought a miracle. The negro is the enemy of his former master and will be
+for all time."
+
+"For the present," said the old man meditatively, "not a word to a living
+soul as to my connection with this work. When the time is ripe, I'll show
+my hand."
+
+Elsie entered, protesting against her father's talking longer, and showed
+Lynch to the door.
+
+He paused on the moonlit porch and tried to engage her in familiar talk.
+
+She cut him short, and he left reluctantly.
+
+As he bowed his thick neck in pompous courtesy, she caught with a shiver
+the odour of pomade on his black half-kinked hair. He stopped on the lower
+step, looked back with smiling insolence, and gazed intently at her
+beauty. The girl shrank from the gleam of the jungle in his eyes and
+hurried within.
+
+She found her father sunk in a stupor. Her cry brought the young surgeon
+hurrying into the room, and at the end of an hour he said to Elsie and
+Phil:
+
+"He has had a stroke of paralysis. He may lie in mental darkness for
+months and then recover. His heart action is perfect. Patience, care, and
+love will save him. There is no cause for immediate alarm."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+AUGUSTUS CÆSAR
+
+
+Phil early found the home of the Camerons the most charming spot in town.
+As he sat in the old-fashioned parlour beside Margaret, his brain seethed
+with plans for building a hotel on a large scale on the other side of the
+Square and restoring her home intact.
+
+The Cameron homestead was a large brick building with an ample porch
+looking out directly on the Court House Square, standing in the middle of
+a lawn full of trees, flowers, shrubbery, and a wilderness of evergreen
+boxwood planted fifty years before. It was located on the farm from which
+it had always derived its support. The farm extended up into the village
+itself, with the great barn easily seen from the street.
+
+Phil was charmed with the doctor's genial personality. He often found the
+father a decidedly easier person to get along with than his handsome
+daughter. The Rev. Hugh McAlpin was a daily caller, and Margaret had a
+tantalizing way of showing her deference to his opinions.
+
+Phil hated this preacher from the moment he laid eyes on him. His
+pugnacious piety he might have endured but for the fact that he was
+good-looking and eloquent. When he rose in the pulpit in all his sacred
+dignity, fixed his eyes on Margaret, and began in tenderly modulated voice
+to tell about the love of God, Phil clinched his fist. He didn't care to
+join the Presbyterian church, but he quietly made up his mind that, if it
+came to the worst and she asked him, he would join anything. What made him
+furious was the air of assurance with which the young divine carried
+himself about Margaret, as if he had but to say the word and it would be
+fixed as by a decree issued from before the foundations of the world.
+
+He was pleased and surprised to find that his being a Yankee made no
+difference in his standing or welcome. The people seemed unconscious of
+the part his father played at Washington. Stoneman's Confiscation Bill had
+not yet been discussed in Congress, and the promise of land to the negroes
+was universally regarded as a hoax of the League to win their followers.
+The old Commoner was not an orator. Hence his name was scarcely known in
+the South. The Southern people could not conceive of a great leader except
+one who expressed his power through the megaphone of oratory. They held
+Charles Sumner chiefly responsible for Reconstruction.
+
+The fact that Phil was a Yankee who had no axe to grind in the South
+caused the people to appeal to him in a pathetic way that touched his
+heart. He had not been in town two weeks before he was on good terms with
+every youngster, had the entrée to every home, and Ben had taken him,
+protesting vehemently, to see every pretty girl there. He found that, in
+spite of war and poverty, troubles present and troubles to come, the young
+Southern woman was the divinity that claimed and received the chief
+worship of man.
+
+The tremendous earnestness with which these youngsters pursued the work of
+courting, all of them so poor they scarcely had enough to eat, amazed and
+alarmed him beyond measure. He found in several cases as many as four
+making a dead set for one girl, as if heaven and earth depended on the
+outcome, while the girl seemed to receive it all as a matter of
+course--her just tribute.
+
+Every instinct of his quiet reserved nature revolted at any such attempt
+to rush his cause with Margaret, and yet it made the cold chills run down
+his spine to see that Presbyterian preacher drive his buggy up to the
+hotel, take her to ride, and stay three hours. He knew where they had
+gone--to Lover's Leap and along the beautiful road which led to the North
+Carolina line. He knew the way--Margaret had showed him. This road was the
+Way of Romance. Every farmhouse, cabin, and shady nook along its beaten
+track could tell its tale of lovers fleeing from the North to find
+happiness in the haven of matrimony across the line in South Carolina.
+Everything seemed to favour marriage in this climate. The state required
+no license. A legal marriage could be celebrated, anywhere, at any time,
+by a minister in the presence of two witnesses, with or without the
+consent of parent or guardian. Marriage was the easiest thing in the
+state--divorce the one thing impossible. Death alone could grant divorce.
+
+He was now past all reason in love. He followed the movement of Margaret's
+queenly figure with pathetic abandonment. Beneath her beautiful manners he
+swore with a shiver that she was laughing at him. Now and then he caught a
+funny expression about her eyes, as if she were consumed with a sly sense
+of humour in her love affairs.
+
+What he felt to be his manliest traits, his reserve, dignity, and moral
+earnestness, she must think cold and slow beside the dash, fire, and
+assurance of these Southerners. He could tell by the way she encouraged
+the preacher before his eyes that she was criticizing and daring him to
+let go for once. Instead of doing it, he sank back appalled at the
+prospect and let the preacher carry her off again.
+
+He sought solace in Dr. Cameron, who was utterly oblivious of his
+daughter's love affairs.
+
+Phil was constantly amazed at the variety of his knowledge, the
+genuineness of his culture, his modesty, and the note of youth and cheer
+with which he still pursued the study of medicine.
+
+His company was refreshing for its own sake. The slender graceful figure,
+ruddy face, with piercing, dark-brown eyes in startling contrast to his
+snow-white hair and beard, had for Phil a perpetual charm. He never tired
+listening to his talk, and noting the peculiar grace and dignity with
+which he carried himself, unconscious of the commanding look of his
+brilliant eyes.
+
+"I hear that you have used hypnotism in your practice, Doctor," Phil said
+to him one day, as he watched with fascination the changing play of his
+mobile features.
+
+"Oh, yes! used it for years. Southern doctors have always been pioneers in
+the science of medicine. Dr. Crawford Long, of Georgia, you know, was the
+first practitioner in America to apply anesthesia to surgery."
+
+"But where did you run up against hypnotism? I thought this a new thing
+under the sun?"
+
+The doctor laughed.
+
+"It's not a home industry, exactly. I became interested in it in Edinburgh
+while a medical student, and pursued it with increased interest in
+Paris."
+
+"Did you study medicine abroad?" Phil asked in surprise.
+
+"Yes; I was poor, but I managed to raise and to borrow enough to take
+three years on the other side. I put all I had and all my credit in it.
+I've never regretted the sacrifice. The more I saw of the great world, the
+better I liked my own world. I've given these farmers and their families
+the best God gave to me."
+
+"Do you find much use for your powers of hypnosis?" Phil asked.
+
+"Only in an experimental way. Naturally I am endowed with this
+gift--especially over certain classes who are easily the subjects of
+extreme fear. I owned a rascally slave named Gus whom I used to watch
+stealing. Suddenly confronting him, I've thrown him into unconsciousness
+with a steady gaze of the eye, until he would drop on his face, trembling
+like a leaf, unable to speak until I allowed him."
+
+"How do you account for such powers?"
+
+"I don't account for them at all. They belong to the world of spiritual
+phenomena of which we know so little and yet which touch our material
+lives at a thousand points every day. How do we account for sleep and
+dreams, or second sight, or the day dreams which we call visions?"
+
+Phil was silent, and the doctor went on dreamily:
+
+"The day my boy Richard was killed at Gettysburg, I saw him lying dead in
+a field near a house. I saw some soldiers bury him in the corner of that
+field, and then an old man go to the grave, dig up his body, cart it away
+into the woods, and throw it into a ditch. I saw it before I heard of the
+battle or knew that he was in it. He was reported killed, and his body has
+never been found. It is the one unspeakable horror of the war to me. I'll
+never get over it."
+
+"How very strange!" exclaimed Phil.
+
+"And yet the war was nothing, my boy, to the horrors I feel clutching the
+throat of the South to-day. I'm glad you and your father are down here.
+Your disinterested view of things may help us at Washington when we need
+it most. The South seems to have no friend at court."
+
+"Your younger men, I find, are hopeful, Doctor," said Phil.
+
+"Yes, the young never see danger until it's time to die. I'm not a
+pessimist, but I was happier in jail. Scores of my old friends have given
+up in despair and died. Delicate and cultured women are living on cowpeas,
+corn bread, and molasses--and of such quality they would not have fed it
+to a slave. Children go to bed hungry. Droves of brutal negroes roam at
+large, stealing, murdering, and threatening blacker crimes. We are under
+the heel of petty military tyrants, few of whom ever smelled gunpowder in
+a battle. At the approaching election, not a decent white man in this
+country can take the infamous test oath. I am disfranchised because I gave
+a cup of water to the lips of one of my dying boys on the battlefield. My
+slaves are all voters. There will be a negro majority of more than one
+hundred thousand in this state. Desperadoes are here teaching these
+negroes insolence and crime in their secret societies. The future is a
+nightmare."
+
+[Illustration: HENRY WALTHALL AS BEN CAMERON.]
+
+"You have my sympathy, sir," said Phil warmly, extending his hand. "These
+Reconstruction Acts, conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity, can
+bring only shame and disgrace until the last trace of them is wiped from
+our laws. I hope it will not be necessary to do it in blood."
+
+The doctor was deeply touched. He could not be mistaken in the genuineness
+of any man's feeling. He never dreamed this earnest straightforward Yankee
+youngster was in love with Margaret, and it would have made no difference
+in the accuracy of his judgment.
+
+"Your sentiments do you honour, sir," he said with grave courtesy. "And
+you honour us and our town with your presence and friendship."
+
+As Phil hurried home in a warm glow of sympathy for the people whose
+hospitality had made him their friend and champion, he encountered a negro
+trooper standing on the corner, watching the Cameron house with furtive
+glance.
+
+Instinctively he stopped, surveyed the man from head to foot and asked:
+
+"What's the trouble?"
+
+"None er yo' business," the negro answered, slouching across to the
+opposite side of the street.
+
+Phil watched him with disgust. He had the short, heavy-set neck of the
+lower order of animals. His skin was coal black, his lips so thick they
+curled both ways up and down with crooked blood marks across them. His
+nose was flat, and its enormous nostrils seemed in perpetual dilation. The
+sinister bead eyes, with brown splotches in their whites, were set wide
+apart and gleamed apelike under his scant brows. His enormous cheekbones
+and jaws seemed to protrude beyond the ears and almost hide them.
+
+"That we should send such soldiers here to flaunt our uniform in the faces
+of these people!" he exclaimed, with bitterness.
+
+He met Ben hurrying home from a visit to Elsie. The two young soldiers
+whose prejudices had melted in the white heat of battle had become fast
+friends.
+
+Phil laughed and winked:
+
+"I'll meet you to-night around the family altar!"
+
+When he reached home, Ben saw, slouching in front of the house, walking
+back and forth and glancing furtively behind him, the negro trooper whom
+his friend had passed.
+
+He walked quickly in front of him, and blinking his eyes rapidly, said:
+
+"Didn't I tell you, Gus, not to let me catch you hanging around this house
+again?"
+
+The negro drew himself up, pulling his blue uniform into position as his
+body stretched out of its habitual slouch, and answered:
+
+"My name ain't 'Gus.'"
+
+Ben gave a quick little chuckle and leaned back against the palings, his
+hand resting on one that was loose. He glanced at the negro carelessly and
+said:
+
+"Well, Augustus Cæsar, I give your majesty thirty seconds to move off the
+block."
+
+Gus' first impulse was to run, but remembering himself he threw back his
+shoulders and said:
+
+"I reckon de streets free----"
+
+"Yes, and so is kindling wood!"
+
+Quick as a flash of lightning the paling suddenly left the fence and broke
+three times in such bewildering rapidity on the negro's head he forgot
+everything he ever knew or thought he knew save one thing--the way to run.
+He didn't fly, but he made remarkable use of the facilities with which he
+had been endowed.
+
+Ben watched him disappear toward the camp.
+
+He picked up the pieces of paling, pulled a strand of black wool from a
+splinter, looked at it curiously and said:
+
+"A sprig of his majesty's hair--I'll doubtless remember him without it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+AT THE POINT OF THE BAYONET
+
+
+Within an hour from Ben's encounter he was arrested without warrant by the
+military commandant, handcuffed, and placed on the train for Columbia,
+more than a hundred miles distant. The first purpose of sending him in
+charge of a negro guard was abandoned for fear of a riot. A squad of white
+troops accompanied him.
+
+Elsie was waiting at the gate, watching for his coming, her heart aglow
+with happiness.
+
+When Marion and little Hugh ran to tell the exciting news, she thought it
+a joke and refused to believe it.
+
+"Come, dear, don't tease me; you know it's not true!"
+
+"I wish I may die if 'tain't so!" Hugh solemnly declared. "He run Gus away
+'cause he scared Aunt Margaret so. They come and put handcuffs on him and
+took him to Columbia. I tell you Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Margaret are
+mad!"
+
+Elsie called Phil and begged him to see what had happened.
+
+When Phil reported Ben's arrest without a warrant, and the indignity to
+which he had been subjected on the amazing charge of resisting military
+authority, Elsie hurried with Marion and Hugh to the hotel to express her
+indignation, and sent Phil to Columbia on the next train to fight for his
+release.
+
+By the use of a bribe Phil discovered that a special inquisition had been
+hastily organized to procure perjured testimony against Ben on the charge
+of complicity in the murder of a carpet-bag adventurer named Ashburn, who
+had been killed at Columbia in a row in a disreputable resort. This murder
+had occurred the week Ben Cameron was in Nashville. The enormous reward of
+$25,000 had been offered for the conviction of any man who could be
+implicated in the killing. Scores of venal wretches, eager for this blood
+money, were using every device of military tyranny to secure evidence on
+which to convict--no matter who the man might be. Within six hours of his
+arrival they had pounced on Ben.
+
+They arrested as a witness an old negro named John Stapler, noted for his
+loyalty to the Camerons. The doctor had saved his life once in a dangerous
+illness. They were going to put him to torture and force him to swear that
+Ben Cameron had tried to bribe him to kill Ashburn. General Howle, the
+Commandant of the Columbia district, was in Charleston on a visit to
+headquarters.
+
+Phil resorted to the ruse of pretending, as a Yankee, the deepest sympathy
+for Ashburn, and by the payment of a fee of twenty dollars to the Captain,
+was admitted to the fort to witness the torture.
+
+They led the old man trembling into the presence of the Captain, who sat
+on an improvised throne in full uniform.
+
+"Have you ordered a barber to shave this man's head?" sternly asked the
+judge.
+
+"Please, Marster, fer de Lawd's sake, I ain' done nuttin'--doan' shave my
+head. Dat ha'r been wropped lak dat fur ten year! I die sho' ef I lose my
+ha'r."
+
+"Bring the barber, and take him back until he comes," was the order. In an
+hour they led him again into the room blindfolded, and placed him in a
+chair.
+
+"Have you let him see a preacher before putting him through?" the Captain
+asked. "I have an order from the General in Charleston to put him through
+to-day."
+
+"For Gawd's sake, Marster, doan' put me froo--I ain't done nuttin' en I
+doan' know nuttin'!"
+
+The old negro slipped to his knees, trembling from head to foot.
+
+The guards caught him by the shoulders and threw him back into the chair.
+The bandage was removed, and just in front of him stood a brass cannon
+pointed at his head, a soldier beside it holding the string ready to pull.
+John threw himself backward, yelling:
+
+"Goddermighty!"
+
+When he scrambled to his feet and started to run, another cannon swung on
+him from the rear. He dropped to his knees and began to pray.
+
+"Yas, Lawd, I'se er comin'. I hain't ready--but, Lawd, I got ter come!
+Save me!"
+
+"Shave him!" the Captain ordered.
+
+While the old man sat moaning, they lathered his head with two
+scrubbing-brushes and shaved it clean.
+
+"Now stand him up by the wall and measure him for his coffin," was the
+order.
+
+They snatched him from the chair, pushed him against the wall, and
+measured him. While they were taking his measure, the man next to him
+whispered:
+
+"Now's the time to save your hide--tell all about Ben Cameron trying to
+hire you to kill Ashburn."
+
+"Give him a few minutes," said the Captain, "and maybe we can hear what
+Mr. Cameron said about Ashburn."
+
+"I doan' know nuttin', General," pleaded the old darkey. "I ain't heard
+nuttin'--I ain't seed Marse Ben fer two monts."
+
+"You needn't lie to us. The rebels have been posting you. But it's no use.
+We'll get it out of you."
+
+"'Fo' Gawd, Marster, I'se telling de truf!"
+
+"Put him in the dark cell and keep him there the balance of his life
+unless he tells," was the order.
+
+At the end of four days, Phil was summoned again to witness the show.
+
+John was carried to another part of the fort and shown the sweat-box.
+
+"Now tell all you know or in you go!" said his tormentor.
+
+The negro looked at the engine of torture in abject terror--a closet in
+the walls of the fort just big enough to admit the body, with an
+adjustable top to press down too low for the head to be held erect. The
+door closed tight against the breast of the victim. The only air admitted
+was through an auger-hole in the door.
+
+The old man's lips moved in prayer.
+
+"Will you tell?" growled the Captain.
+
+"I cain't tell ye nuttin' 'cept'n' a lie!" he moaned.
+
+They thrust him in, slammed the door, and in a loud voice the Captain
+said:
+
+"Keep him there for thirty days unless he tells."
+
+He was left in the agony of the sweat-box for thirty-three hours and taken
+out. His limbs were swollen and when he attempted to walk he tottered and
+fell.
+
+The guard jerked him to his feet, and the Captain said:
+
+"I'm afraid we've taken him out too soon, but if he don't tell he can go
+back and finish the month out."
+
+The poor old negro dropped in a faint, and they carried him back to his
+cell.
+
+Phil determined to spare no means, fair or foul, to secure Ben's release
+from the clutches of these devils. He had as yet been unable to locate his
+place of confinement.
+
+He continued his ruse of friendly curiosity, kept in touch with the
+Captain, and the Captain in touch with his pocketbook.
+
+Summoned to witness another interesting ceremony, he hurried to the fort.
+
+The officer winked at him confidentially, and took him out to a row of
+dungeons built of logs and ceiled inside with heavy boards. A single pane
+of glass about eight inches square admitted light ten feet from the
+ground.
+
+There was a commotion inside, curses, groans, and cries for mercy mingling
+in rapid succession.
+
+"What is it?" asked Phil.
+
+"Hell's goin' on in there!" laughed the officer.
+
+"Evidently."
+
+A heavy crash, as though a ton weight had struck the floor, and then all
+was still.
+
+"By George, it's too bad we can't see it all!" exclaimed the officer.
+
+"What does it mean?" urged Phil.
+
+Again the Captain laughed immoderately.
+
+"I've got a blue-blood in there taking the bluin' out of his system. He
+gave me some impudence. I'm teaching him who's running this country!"
+
+"What are you doing to him?" Phil asked with a sudden suspicion.
+
+"Oh, just having a little fun! I put two big white drunks in there with
+him--half-fighting drunks, you know--and told them to work on his teeth
+and manicure his face a little to initiate him into the ranks of the
+common people, so to speak!"
+
+Again he laughed.
+
+Phil, listening at the keyhole, held up his hand:
+
+"Hush, they're talking----"
+
+He could hear Ben Cameron's voice in the softest drawl:
+
+"Say it again."
+
+"Please, Marster!"
+
+"Now both together, and a little louder!"
+
+"_Please, Marster_," came the united chorus.
+
+"Now what kind of a dog did I say you are?"
+
+"The kind as comes when his marster calls."
+
+"Both together--the under dog seems to have too much cover, like his mouth
+might be full of cotton."
+
+They repeated it louder.
+
+"A common--stump-tailed--cur-dog?"
+
+"Yessir."
+
+"Say it."
+
+"A common--stump-tailed--cur-dog--Marster!"
+
+"A pair of them."
+
+"A pair of 'em."
+
+"No, the whole thing--all together--'we--are--a--pair!'"
+
+"Yes--Marster." They repeated it in chorus.
+
+"With apologies to the dogs----"
+
+"Apologies to the dogs----"
+
+"And why does your master honour the kennel with his presence to-day?"
+
+"He hit a nigger on the head so hard that he strained the nigger's ankle,
+and he's restin' from his labours."
+
+"That's right, Towser. If I had you and Tige a few hours every day I could
+make good squirrel-dogs out of you."
+
+There was a pause. Phil looked up and smiled.
+
+"What does it sound like?" asked the Captain, with a shade of doubt in his
+voice.
+
+"Sounds to me like a Sunday-school teacher taking his class through a new
+catechism."
+
+The Captain fumbled hurriedly for his keys.
+
+"There's something wrong in there."
+
+He opened the door and sprang in.
+
+Ben Cameron was sitting on top of the two toughs, knocking their heads
+together as they repeated each chorus.
+
+"Walk in, gentlemen. The show is going on now--the animals are doing
+beautifully," said Ben.
+
+The Captain muttered an oath. Phil suddenly grasped him by the throat,
+hurled him against the wall, and snatched the keys from his hand.
+
+"Now open your mouth, you white-livered cur, and inside of twenty-four
+hours I'll have you behind the bars. I have all the evidence I need. I'm
+an ex-officer of the United States Army, of the fighting corps--not the
+vulture division. This is my friend. Accompany us to the street and strike
+your charges from the record."
+
+The coward did as he was ordered, and Ben hurried back to Piedmont with a
+friend toward whom he began to feel closer than a brother.
+
+When Elsie heard the full story of the outrage, she bore herself toward
+Ben with unusual tenderness, and yet he knew that the event had driven
+their lives farther apart. He felt instinctively the cold silent eye of
+her father, and his pride stiffened under it. The girl had never
+considered the possibility of a marriage without her father's blessing.
+Ben Cameron was too proud to ask it. He began to fear that the differences
+between her father and his people reached to the deepest sources of life.
+
+Phil found himself a hero at the Cameron House. Margaret said little, but
+her bearing spoke in deeper language than words. He felt it would be mean
+to take advantage of her gratitude.
+
+But he was quick to respond to the motherly tenderness of Mrs. Cameron. In
+the groups of neighbours who gathered in the evenings to discuss with the
+doctor the hopes, fears, and sorrows of the people, Phil was a charmed
+listener to the most brilliant conversations he had ever heard. It seemed
+the normal expression of their lives. He had never before seen people come
+together to talk to one another after this fashion. More and more the
+simplicity, dignity, patience, courtesy, and sympathy of these people in
+their bearing toward one another impressed him. More and more he grew to
+like them.
+
+Marion went out of her way to express her open admiration for Phil and
+tease him about Margaret. The Rev. Hugh McAlpin was monopolizing her on
+the Wednesday following his return from Columbia and Phil sought Marion
+for sympathy.
+
+"What will you give me if I tease you about Margaret right before her?"
+she asked.
+
+He blushed furiously.
+
+"Don't you dare such a thing on peril of your life!"
+
+"You know you like to be teased about her," she cried, her blue eyes
+dancing with fun.
+
+"With such a pretty little friend to do the teasing all by ourselves,
+perhaps----"
+
+"You'll never get her unless you have more spunk."
+
+"Then I'll find consolation with you."
+
+"No, I mean to marry young."
+
+"And your ideal of life?"
+
+"To fill the world with flowers, laughter, and music--especially my own
+home--and never do a thing I can make my husband do for me! How do you
+like it?"
+
+"I think it very sweet," Phil answered soberly.
+
+At noon on the following Friday, the Piedmont _Eagle_ appeared with an
+editorial signed by Dr. Cameron, denouncing in the fine language of the
+old school the arrest of Ben as "despotism and the usurpation of
+authority."
+
+At three o'clock, Captain Gilbert, in command of the troops stationed in
+the village, marched a squad of soldiers to the newspaper office. One of
+them carried a sledge-hammer. In ten minutes he demolished the office,
+heaped the type and their splintered cases on top of the battered press in
+the middle of the street, and set fire to the pile.
+
+On the courthouse door he nailed this proclamation:
+
+  _To the People of Ulster County_:
+
+  The censures of the press, directed against the servants of the
+  people, may be endured; but the military force in command of this
+  district are not the servants of the people of South Carolina. WE ARE
+  YOUR MASTERS. The impertinence of newspaper comment on the military
+  will not be brooked UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WHATEVER.
+
+                                                     G. C. Gilbert,
+                                                  Captain in Command.
+
+Not content with this display of power, he determined to make an example
+of Dr. Cameron, as the leader of public opinion in the county.
+
+He ordered a squad of his negro troops to arrest him immediately and take
+him to Columbia for obstructing the execution of the Reconstruction Acts.
+He placed the squad under command of Gus, whom he promoted to be a
+corporal, with instructions to wait until the doctor was inside his house,
+boldly enter it and arrest him.
+
+When Gus marched his black janizaries into the house, no one was in the
+office. Margaret had gone for a ride with Phil, and Ben had strolled with
+Elsie to Lover's Leap, unconscious of the excitement in town.
+
+Dr. Cameron himself had heard nothing of it, having just reached home from
+a visit to a country patient.
+
+Gus stationed his men at each door, and with another trooper walked
+straight into Mrs. Cameron's bedroom, where the doctor was resting on a
+lounge.
+
+Had an imp of perdition suddenly sprung through the floor, the master of
+the house of Cameron would not have been more enraged or surprised.
+
+A sudden leap, as the spring of a panther, and he stood before his former
+slave, his slender frame erect, his face a livid spot in its snow-white
+hair, his brilliant eyes flashing with fury.
+
+Gus suddenly lost control of his knees.
+
+His old master transfixed him with his eyes, and in a voice, whose tones
+gripped him by the throat, said:
+
+"How dare you?"
+
+The gun fell from the negro's hand, and he dropped to the floor on his
+face.
+
+His companion uttered a yell and sprang through the door, rallying the men
+as he went:
+
+"Fall back! Fall back! He's killed Gus! Shot him dead wid his eye. He's
+conjured him! Git de whole army quick."
+
+They fled to the Commandant.
+
+Gilbert ordered the negroes to their tents and led his whole company of
+white regulars to the hotel, arrested Dr. Cameron, and rescued his
+fainting trooper, who had been revived and placed under a tree on the
+lawn.
+
+The little Captain had a wicked look on his face. He refused to allow the
+doctor a moment's delay to leave instructions for his wife, who had gone
+to visit a neighbour. He was placed in the guard-house, and a detail of
+twenty soldiers stationed around it.
+
+The arrest was made so quickly, not a dozen people in town had heard of
+it. As fast as it was known, people poured into the house, one by one, to
+express their sympathy. But a greater surprise awaited them.
+
+Within thirty minutes after he had been placed in prison, a Lieutenant
+entered, accompanied by a soldier and a negro blacksmith who carried in
+his hand two big chains with shackles on each end.
+
+The doctor gazed at the intruders a moment with incredulity, and then, as
+the enormity of the outrage dawned on him, he flushed and drew himself
+erect, his face livid and rigid.
+
+He clutched his throat with his slender fingers, slowly recovered himself,
+glanced at the shackles in the black hands and then at the young
+Lieutenant's face, and said slowly, with heaving breast:
+
+"My God! Have you been sent to place these irons on me?"
+
+"Such are my orders, sir," replied the officer, motioning to the negro
+smith to approach. He stepped forward, unlocked the padlock, and prepared
+the fetters to be placed on his arms and legs. These fetters were of
+enormous weight, made of iron rods three quarters of an inch thick and
+connected together by chains of like weight.
+
+"This is monstrous!" groaned the doctor, with choking agony, glancing
+helplessly about the bare cell for some weapon with which to defend
+himself.
+
+Suddenly looking the Lieutenant in the face, he said:
+
+"I demand, sir, to see your commanding officer. He cannot pretend that
+these shackles are needed to hold a weak unarmed man in prison, guarded by
+two hundred soldiers?"
+
+"It is useless. I have his orders direct."
+
+"But I must see him. No such outrage has ever been recorded in the history
+of the American people. I appeal to the Magna Charta rights of every man
+who speaks the English tongue--no man shall be arrested or imprisoned or
+deprived of his own household, or of his liberties, unless by the legal
+judgment of his peers or by the law of the land!"
+
+"The bayonet is your only law. My orders admit of no delay. For your own
+sake, I advise you to submit. As a soldier, Dr. Cameron, you know I must
+execute orders."
+
+"These are not the orders of a soldier!" shouted the prisoner, enraged
+beyond all control. "They are orders for a jailer, a hangman, a
+scullion--no soldier who wears the sword of a civilized nation can take
+such orders. The war is over; the South is conquered; I have no country
+save America. For the honour of the flag, for which I once poured out my
+blood on the heights of Buena Vista, I protest against this shame!"
+
+The Lieutenant fell back a moment before the burst of his anger.
+
+"Kill me! Kill me!" he went on passionately, throwing his arms wide open
+and exposing his breast. "Kill--I am in your power. I have no desire to
+live under such conditions. Kill, but you must not inflict on me and on my
+people this insult worse than death!"
+
+"Do your duty, blacksmith," said the officer, turning his back and walking
+toward the door.
+
+The negro advanced with the chains cautiously, and attempted to snap one
+of the shackles on the doctor's right arm.
+
+With sudden maniac frenzy, Dr. Cameron seized the negro by the throat,
+hurled him to the floor, and backed against the wall.
+
+The Lieutenant approached and remonstrated:
+
+"Why compel me to add the indignity of personal violence? You must
+submit."
+
+"I am your prisoner," fiercely retorted the doctor. "I have been a soldier
+in the armies of America, and I know how to die. Kill me, and my last
+breath will be a blessing. But while I have life to resist, for myself and
+for my people, this thing shall not be done!"
+
+The Lieutenant called a sergeant and a file of soldiers, and the sergeant
+stepped forward to seize the prisoner.
+
+Dr. Cameron sprang on him with the ferocity of a tiger, seized his musket,
+and attempted to wrench it from his grasp.
+
+The men closed in on him. A short passionate fight and the slender, proud,
+gray-haired man lay panting on the floor.
+
+Four powerful assailants held his hands and feet, and the negro smith,
+with a grin, secured the rivet on the right ankle and turned the key in
+the padlock on the left.
+
+As he drove the rivet into the shackle on his left arm, a spurt of bruised
+blood from the old Mexican War wound stained the iron.
+
+Dr. Cameron lay for a moment in a stupor. At length he slowly rose. The
+clank of the heavy chains seemed to choke him with horror. He sank on the
+floor, covering his face with his hands and groaned:
+
+"The shame! The shame! O God, that I might have died! My poor, poor
+wife!"
+
+Captain Gilbert entered and said with a sneer:
+
+"I will take you now to see your wife and friends if you would like to
+call before setting out for Columbia."
+
+The doctor paid no attention to him.
+
+"Will you follow me while I lead you through this town, to show them their
+chief has fallen, or will you force me to drag you?"
+
+Receiving no answer, he roughly drew the doctor to his feet, held him by
+the arm, and led him thus in half-unconscious stupor through the principal
+street, followed by a drove of negroes. He ordered a squad of troops to
+meet him at the depot. Not a white man appeared on the streets. When one
+saw the sight and heard the clank of those chains, there was a sudden
+tightening of the lip, a clinched fist, and an averted face.
+
+When they approached the hotel, Mrs. Cameron ran to meet him, her face
+white as death.
+
+In silence she kissed his lips, kissed each shackle on his wrists, took
+her handkerchief and wiped the bruised blood from the old wound on his arm
+the iron had opened afresh, and then with a look, beneath which the
+Captain shrank, she said in low tones:
+
+"Do your work quickly. You have but a few moments to get out of this town
+with your prisoner. I have sent a friend to hold my son. If he comes
+before you go, he will kill you on sight as he would a mad dog."
+
+With a sneer, the Captain passed the hotel and led the doctor, still in
+half-unconscious stupor, toward the depot down past his old slave
+quarters. He had given his negroes who remained faithful each a cabin and
+a lot.
+
+They looked on in awed silence as the Captain proclaimed:
+
+"Fellow citizens, you are the equal of any white man who walks the ground.
+The white man's day is done. Your turn has come."
+
+As he passed Jake's cabin, the doctor's faithful man stepped suddenly in
+front of him, looking at the Captain out of the corners of his eyes, and
+asked:
+
+"Is I yo' equal?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Des lak any white man?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+The negro's fist suddenly shot into Gilbert's nose with the crack of a
+sledge-hammer, laying him stunned on the pavement.
+
+"Den take dat f'um yo' equal, d--n you!" he cried, bending over his
+prostrate figure. "I'll show you how to treat my ole marster, you low-down
+slue-footed devil!"
+
+The stirring little drama roused the doctor and he turned to his servant
+with his old-time courtesy, and said:
+
+"Thank you, Jake."
+
+"Come in here, Marse Richard; I knock dem things off'n you in er minute,
+'en I get you outen dis town in er jiffy."
+
+"No, Jake, that is not my way; bring this gentleman some water, and then
+my horse and buggy. You can take me to the depot. This officer can follow
+with his men." And he did.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+FORTY ACRES AND A MULE
+
+
+When Phil returned with Margaret, he drove at Mrs. Cameron's request to
+find Ben, brought him with all speed to the hotel, took him to his room,
+and locked the door before he told him the news. After an hour's blind
+rage, he agreed to obey his father's positive orders to keep away from the
+Captain until his return, and to attempt no violence against the
+authorities.
+
+Phil undertook to manage the case in Columbia, and spent three days
+collecting his evidence before leaving.
+
+Swifter feet had anticipated him. Two days after the arrival of Dr.
+Cameron at the fort in Colombia, a dust-stained, tired negro was ushered
+into the presence of General Howle.
+
+He looked about timidly and laughed loudly.
+
+"Well, my man, what's the trouble? You seem to have walked all the way,
+and laugh as if you were glad of it."
+
+"I 'spec' I is, sah," said Jake, sidling up confidentially.
+
+"Well?" said Howle good-humouredly.
+
+Jake's voice dropped to a whisper.
+
+"I hears you got my ole marster, Dr. Cameron, in dis place."
+
+"Yes. What do you know against him?"
+
+"Nuttin', sah. I des hurry 'long down ter take his place, so's you can
+sen' him back home. He's erbleeged ter go. Dey's er pow'ful lot er sick
+folks up dar in de country cain't git 'long widout him, an er pow'ful lot
+er well ones gwiner be raisin' de debbel 'bout dis. You can hol' me, sah.
+Des tell my ole marster when ter be yere, en he sho' come."
+
+Jake paused and bowed low.
+
+"Yessah, hit's des lak I tell you. Fuddermo', I 'spec' I'se de man what
+done de damages. I 'spec' I bus' de Capt'n's nose so 'tain gwine be no mo'
+good to 'im."
+
+Howle questioned Jake as to the whole affair, asked him a hundred
+questions about the condition of the county, the position of Dr. Cameron,
+and the possible effect of this event on the temper of the people.
+
+The affair had already given him a bad hour. The news of this shackling of
+one of the most prominent men in the State had spread like wildfire, and
+had caused the first deep growl of anger from the people. He saw that it
+was a senseless piece of stupidity. The election was rapidly approaching.
+He was master of the State, and the less friction the better. His mind was
+made up instantly. He released Dr. Cameron with an apology, and returned
+with him and Jake for a personal inspection of the affairs of Ulster
+county.
+
+In a thirty-minutes' interview with Captain Gilbert, Howle gave him more
+pain than his broken nose.
+
+"And why did you nail up the doors of that Presbyterian church?" he asked
+suavely.
+
+"Because McAlpin, the young cub who preaches there, dared come to this
+camp and insult me about the arrest of old Cameron."
+
+"I suppose you issued an order silencing him from the ministry?"
+
+"I did, and told him I'd shackle him if he opened his mouth again."
+
+"Good. The throne of Russia needn't worry about a worthy successor. Any
+further ecclesiastical orders?"
+
+"None, except the oaths I've prescribed for them before they shall preach
+again."
+
+"Fine! These Scotch Covenanters will feel at home with you."
+
+"Well, I've made them bite the dust--and they know who's runnin' this
+town, and don't you forget it."
+
+"No doubt. Yet we may have too much of even a good thing. The League is
+here to run this country. The business of the military is to keep still
+and back them when they need it."
+
+"We've the strongest council here to be found in any county in this
+section," said Gilbert with pride.
+
+"Just so. The League meets once a week. We have promised them the land of
+their masters and equal social and political rights. Their members go
+armed to these meetings and drill on Saturdays in the public square. The
+white man is afraid to interfere lest his house or barn take fire. A negro
+prisoner in the dock needs only to make the sign to be acquitted. Not a
+negro will dare to vote against us. Their women are formed into societies,
+sworn to leave their husbands and refuse to marry any man who dares our
+anger. The negro churches have pledged themselves to expel him from their
+membership. What more do you want?"
+
+"There's another side to it," protested the Captain. "Since the League has
+taken in the negroes, every Union white man has dropped it like a hot
+iron, except the lone scallawag or carpet-bagger who expects an office. In
+the church, the social circle, in business or pleasure, these men are
+lepers. How can a human being stand it? I've tried to grind this hellish
+spirit in the dirt under my heel, and unless you can do it they'll beat
+you in the long run! You've got to have some Southern white men or you're
+lost."
+
+"I'll risk it with a hundred thousand negro majority," said Howle with a
+sneer. "The fun will just begin then. In the meantime, I'll have you ease
+up on this county's government. I've brought that man back who knocked you
+down. Let him alone. I've pardoned him. The less said about this affair,
+the better."
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+As the day of the election under the new régime of Reconstruction drew
+near, the negroes were excited by rumours of the coming great events.
+Every man was to receive forty acres of land for his vote, and the
+enthusiastic speakers and teachers had made the dream a resistless one by
+declaring that the Government would throw in a mule with the forty acres.
+Some who had hesitated about the forty acres of land, remembering that it
+must be worked, couldn't resist the idea of owning a mule.
+
+The Freedman's Bureau reaped a harvest in $2 marriage fees from negroes
+who were urged thus to make their children heirs of landed estates stocked
+with mules.
+
+Every stranger who appeared in the village was regarded with awe as a
+possible surveyor sent from Washington to run the lines of these
+forty-acre plots.
+
+And in due time the surveyors appeared. Uncle Aleck, who now devoted his
+entire time to organizing the League, and drinking whiskey which the dues
+he collected made easy, was walking back to Piedmont from a League meeting
+in the country, dreaming of this promised land.
+
+He lifted his eyes from the dusty way and saw before him two surveyors
+with their arms full of line stakes painted red, white, and blue. They
+were well-dressed Yankees--he could not be mistaken. Not a doubt disturbed
+his mind. The kingdom of heaven was at hand!
+
+He bowed low and cried:
+
+"Praise de Lawd! De messengers is come! I'se waited long, but I sees 'em
+now wid my own eyes!"
+
+"You can bet your life on that, old pard," said the spokesman of the pair.
+"We go two and two, just as the apostles did in the olden times. We have
+only a few left. The boys are hurrying to get their homes. All you've got
+to do is to drive one of these red, white, and blue stakes down at each
+corner of the forty acres of land you want, and every rebel in the
+infernal regions can't pull it up."
+
+"Hear dat now!"
+
+"Just like I tell you. When this stake goes into the ground, it's like
+planting a thousand cannon at each corner."
+
+"En will the Lawd's messengers come wid me right now to de bend er de
+creek whar I done pick out my forty acres?"
+
+"We will, if you have the needful for the ceremony. The fee for the
+surveyor is small--only two dollars for each stake. We have no time to
+linger with foolish virgins who have no oil in their lamps. The bridegroom
+has come. They who have no oil must remain in outer darkness." The speaker
+had evidently been a preacher in the North, and his sacred accent sealed
+his authority with the old negro, who had been an exhorter himself.
+
+Aleck felt in his pocket the jingle of twenty gold dollars, the initiation
+fees of the week's harvest of the League. He drew them, counted out eight,
+and took his four stakes. The surveyors kindly showed him how to drive
+them down firmly to the first stripe of blue. When they had stepped off a
+square of about forty acres of the Lenoir farm, including the richest
+piece of bottom land on the creek, which Aleck's children under his wife's
+direction were working for Mrs. Lenoir, and the four stakes were planted,
+old Aleck shouted:
+
+"Glory ter God!"
+
+"Now," said the foremost surveyor, "you want a deed--a deed in fee simple
+with the big seal of the Government on it, and you're fixed for life. The
+deed you can take to the courthouse and make the clerk record it."
+
+The man drew from his pocket an official-looking paper, with a red
+circular seal pasted on its face.
+
+Uncle Aleck's eyes danced.
+
+"Is dat de deed?"
+
+"It will be if I write your name on it and describe the land."
+
+"En what's de fee fer dat?"
+
+"Only twelve dollars; you can take it now or wait until we come again.
+There's no particular hurry about this. The wise man, though, leaves
+nothing for to-morrow that he can carry with him to-day."
+
+"I takes de deed right now, gemmen," said Aleck, eagerly counting out the
+remaining twelve dollars. "Fix 'im up for me."
+
+The surveyor squatted in the field and carefully wrote the document.
+
+They went on their way rejoicing, and old Aleck hurried into Piedmont with
+the consciousness of lordship of the soil. He held himself so proudly that
+it seemed to straighten some of the crook out of his bow legs.
+
+He marched up to the hotel where Margaret sat reading and Marion was on
+the steps playing with a setter.
+
+"Why, Uncle Aleck!" Marion exclaimed, "I haven't seen you in a long
+time."
+
+Aleck drew himself to his full height--at least, as full as his bow legs
+would permit, and said gruffly:
+
+"Miss Ma'ian, I axes you to stop callin' me 'uncle'; my name is Mr.
+Alexander Lenoir----"
+
+"Until Aunt Cindy gets after you," laughed the girl. "Then it's much
+shorter than that, Uncle Aleck."
+
+He shuffled his feet and looked out at the square unconcernedly.
+
+"Yaas'm, dat's what fetch me here now. I comes ter tell yer Ma ter tell
+dat 'oman Cindy ter take her chillun off my farm. I gwine 'low no mo'
+rent-payin' ter nobody off'n my lan'!"
+
+"Your land, Uncle Aleck? When did you get it?" asked Marion, placing her
+cheek against the setter.
+
+"De Gubment gim it ter me to-day," he replied, fumbling in his pocket, and
+pulling out the document. "You kin read it all dar yo'sef."
+
+He handed Marion the paper, and Margaret hurried down and read it over her
+shoulder.
+
+Both girls broke into screams of laughter.
+
+Aleck looked up sharply.
+
+"Do you know what's written on this paper, Uncle Aleck?" Margaret asked.
+
+"Cose I do. Dat's de deed ter my farm er forty acres in de land er de
+creek, whar I done stuck off wid de red, white, an' blue sticks de Gubment
+gimme."
+
+"I'll read it to you," said Margaret.
+
+"Wait a minute," interrupted Marion. "I want Aunt Cindy to hear it--she's
+here to see Mamma in the kitchen now."
+
+She ran for Uncle Aleck's spouse. Aunt Cindy walked around the house and
+stood by the steps, eying her erstwhile lord with contempt.
+
+"Got yer deed, is yer, ter stop me payin' my missy her rent fum de lan' my
+chillun wucks? Yu'se er smart boy, you is--let's hear de deed!"
+
+Aleck edged away a little, and said with a bow:
+
+"Dar's de paper wid de big mark er de Gubment."
+
+Aunt Cindy sniffed the air contemptuously.
+
+"What is it, honey?" she asked of Margaret.
+
+Margaret read in mock solemnity the mystic writing on the deed:
+
+  _To Whom It May Concern_:
+
+  As Moses lifted up the brazen serpent in the wilderness for the
+  enlightenment of the people, even so have I lifted twenty shining
+  plunks out of this benighted nigger! Selah!
+
+As Uncle Aleck walked away with Aunt Cindy shouting in derision, "Dar,
+now! Dar, now!" the bow in his legs seemed to have sprung a sharper
+curve.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A WHISPER IN THE CROWD
+
+
+The excitement which preceded the first Reconstruction election in the
+South paralyzed the industries of the country. When demagogues poured down
+from the North and began their raving before crowds of ignorant negroes,
+the plow stopped in the furrow, the hoe was dropped, and the millennium
+was at hand.
+
+Negro tenants, working under contracts issued by the Freedman's Bureau,
+stopped work, and rode their landlords' mules and horses around the
+county, following these orators.
+
+The loss to the cotton crop alone from the abandonment of the growing
+plant was estimated at over $60,000,000.
+
+The one thing that saved the situation from despair was the large grain
+and forage crops of the previous season which thrifty farmers had stored
+in their barns. So important was the barn and its precious contents that
+Dr. Cameron hired Jake to sleep in his.
+
+This immense barn, which was situated at the foot of the hill some two
+hundred yards behind the house, had become a favourite haunt of Marion and
+Hugh. She had made a pet of the beautiful thoroughbred mare which had
+belonged to Ben during the war. Marion went every day to give her an apple
+or lump of sugar, or carry her a bunch of clover. The mare would follow
+her about like a cat.
+
+Another attraction at the barn for them was Becky Sharpe, Ben's setter.
+She came to Marion one morning, wagging her tail, seized her dress and led
+her into an empty stall, where beneath the trough lay sleeping snugly ten
+little white-and-black spotted puppies.
+
+The girl had never seen such a sight before and went into ecstasies. Becky
+wagged her tail with pride at her compliments. Every morning she would
+pull her gently into the stall just to hear her talk and laugh and pet her
+babies.
+
+Whatever election day meant to the men, to Marion it was one of unalloyed
+happiness: she was to ride horseback alone and dance at her first ball.
+Ben had taught her to ride, and told her she could take Queen to Lover's
+Leap and back alone. Trembling with joy, her beautiful face wreathed in
+smiles, she led the mare to the pond in the edge of the lot and watched
+her drink its pure spring water.
+
+When he helped her to mount in front of the hotel under her mother's gaze,
+and saw her ride out of the gate, with the exquisite lines of her little
+figure melting into the graceful lines of the mare's glistening form, he
+exclaimed:
+
+"I declare, I don't know which is the prettier, Marion or Queen!"
+
+"I know," was the mother's soft answer.
+
+"They are both thoroughbreds," said Ben, watching them admiringly.
+
+"Wait till you see her to-night in her first ball dress," whispered Mrs.
+Lenoir.
+
+At noon Ben and Phil strolled to the polling-place to watch the progress
+of the first election under negro rule. The Square was jammed with
+shouting, jostling, perspiring negroes, men, women, and children. The day
+was warm, and the African odour was supreme even in the open air.
+
+A crowd of two hundred were packed around a peddler's box. There were two
+of them--one crying the wares, and the other wrapping and delivering the
+goods. They were selling a new patent poison for rats.
+
+"I've only a few more bottles left now, gentlemen," he shouted, "and the
+polls will close at sundown. A great day for our brother in black. Two
+years of army rations from the Freedman's Bureau, with old army clothes
+thrown in, and now the ballot--the priceless glory of American
+citizenship. But better still the very land is to be taken from these
+proud aristocrats and given to the poor down-trodden black man. Forty
+acres and a mule--think of it! Provided, mind you--that you have a bottle
+of my wonder-worker to kill the rats and save your corn for the mule. No
+man can have the mule unless he has corn; and no man can have corn if he
+has rats--and only a few bottles left----"
+
+"Gimme one," yelled a negro.
+
+"Forty acres and a mule, your old masters to work your land and pay his
+rent in corn, while you sit back in the shade and see him sweat."
+
+"Gimme er bottle and two er dem pictures!" bawled another candidate for a
+mule.
+
+The peddler handed him the bottle and the pictures and threw a handful of
+his labels among the crowd. These labels happened to be just the size of
+the ballots, having on them the picture of a dead rat lying on his back,
+and above, the emblem of death, the crossbones and skull.
+
+"Forty acres and a mule for every black man--why was I ever born white? I
+never had no luck, nohow!"
+
+Phil and Ben passed on nearer the polling-place, around which stood a
+cordon of soldiers with a line of negro voters two hundred yards in length
+extending back into the crowd.
+
+The negro Leagues came in armed battalions and voted in droves, carrying
+their muskets in their hands. Less than a dozen white men were to be seen
+about the place.
+
+The negroes, under the drill of the League and the Freedman's Bureau,
+protected by the bayonet, were voting to enfranchise themselves,
+disfranchise their former masters, ratify a new constitution, and elect a
+legislature to do their will. Old Aleck was a candidate for the House,
+chief poll-holder, and seemed to be in charge of the movements of the
+voters outside the booth as well as inside. He appeared to be omnipresent,
+and his self-importance was a sight Phil had never dreamed. He could not
+keep his eyes off him.
+
+"By George, Cameron, he's a wonder!" he laughed.
+
+Aleck had suppressed as far as possible the story of the painted stakes
+and the deed, after sending out warnings to the brethren to beware of two
+enticing strangers. The surveyors had reaped a rich harvest and passed on.
+Aleck made up his mind to go to Columbia, make the laws himself, and never
+again trust a white man from the North or South. The agent of the
+Freedman's Bureau at Piedmont tried to choke him off the ticket. The
+League backed him to a man. He could neither read nor write, but before he
+took to whiskey he had made a specialty of revival exhortation, and his
+mouth was the most effective thing about him. In this campaign he was an
+orator of no mean powers. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what his
+people wanted, and he put the thing in words so plain that a wayfaring
+man, though a fool, couldn't make any mistake about it.
+
+As he bustled past, forming a battalion of his brethren in line to march
+to the polls, Phil followed his every movement with amused interest.
+
+Besides being so bow-legged that his walk was a moving joke he was so
+striking a negro in his personal appearance, he seemed to the young
+Northerner almost a distinct type of man.
+
+His head was small and seemed mashed on the sides until it bulged into a
+double lobe behind. Even his ears, which he had pierced and hung with red
+earbobs, seemed to have been crushed flat to the side of his head. His
+kinked hair was wrapped in little hard rolls close to the skull and bound
+tightly with dirty thread. His receding forehead was high and indicated a
+cunning intelligence. His nose was broad and crushed flat against his
+face. His jaws were strong and angular, mouth wide, and lips thick,
+curling back from rows of solid teeth set obliquely in their blue gums.
+The one perfect thing about him was the size and setting of his mouth--he
+was a born African orator, undoubtedly descended from a long line of
+savage spell-binders, whose eloquence in the palaver houses of the jungle
+had made them native leaders. His thin spindle-shanks supported an oblong,
+protruding stomach, resembling an elderly monkey's, which seemed so heavy
+it swayed his back to carry it.
+
+The animal vivacity of his small eyes and the flexibility of his eyebrows,
+which he worked up and down rapidly with every change of countenance,
+expressed his eager desires.
+
+He had laid aside his new shoes, which hurt him, and went barefooted to
+facilitate his movements on the great occasion. His heels projected and
+his foot was so flat that what should have been the hollow of it made a
+hole in the dirt where he left his track.
+
+He was already mellow with liquor, and was dressed in an old army uniform
+and cap, with two horse pistols buckled around his waist. On a strap
+hanging from his shoulder were strung a half-dozen tin canteens filled
+with whiskey.
+
+A disturbance in the line of voters caused the young men to move forward
+to see what it meant.
+
+Two negro troopers had pulled Jake out of the line, and were dragging him
+toward old Aleck.
+
+The election judge straightened himself up with great dignity:
+
+"What wuz de rapscallion doin'?"
+
+"In de line, tryin' ter vote."
+
+"Fetch 'im befo' de judgment bar," said Aleck, taking a drink from one of
+his canteens.
+
+The troopers brought Jake before the judge.
+
+"Tryin' ter vote, is yer?"
+
+"'Lowed I would."
+
+"You hear 'bout de great sassieties de Gubment's fomentin' in dis
+country?"
+
+"Yas, I hear erbout 'em."
+
+"Is yer er member er de Union League?"
+
+"Na-sah. I'd rudder steal by myself. I doan' lak too many in de party!"
+
+"En yer ain't er No'f Ca'liny gemmen, is yer--yer ain't er member er de
+'Red Strings?'"
+
+"Na-sah, I come when I'se called--dey doan' hatter put er string on
+me--ner er block, ner er collar, ner er chain, ner er muzzle----"
+
+"Will yer 'splain ter dis cote----" railed Aleck.
+
+"What cote? Dat ole army cote?" Jake laughed in loud peals that rang over
+the square.
+
+Aleck recovered his dignity and demanded angrily:
+
+"Does yer belong ter de Heroes ob Americky?"
+
+"Na-sah. I ain't burnt nobody's house ner barn yet, ner hamstrung no
+stock, ner waylaid nobody atter night--honey, I ain't fit ter jine. Heroes
+ob Americky! Is you er hero?"
+
+"Ef yer doan' b'long ter no s'iety," said Aleck with judicial
+deliberation, "what is you?"
+
+"Des er ole-fashun all-wool-en-er-yard-wide nigger dat stan's by his ole
+marster 'cause he's his bes' frien', stays at home, en tends ter his own
+business."
+
+"En yer pay no 'tenshun ter de orders I sent yer ter jine de League?"
+
+"Na-sah. I ain't er takin' orders f'um er skeer-crow."
+
+Aleck ignored his insolence, secure in his power.
+
+"You doan b'long ter no s'iety, what yer git in dat line ter vote for?"
+
+"Ain't I er nigger?"
+
+"But yer ain't de right kin' er nigger. 'Res' dat man fer 'sturbin' de
+peace."
+
+They put Jake in jail, persuaded his wife to leave him, and expelled him
+from the Baptist church, all within the week.
+
+As the troopers led Jake to prison, a young negro apparently about fifteen
+years old approached Aleck, holding in his hand one of the peddler's rat
+labels, which had gotten well distributed among the crowd. A group of
+negro boys followed him with these rat labels in their hands, studying
+them intently.
+
+"Look at dis ticket, Uncle Aleck," said the leader.
+
+"Mr. Alexander Lenoir, sah--is I yo' uncle, nigger?"
+
+The youth walled his eyes angrily.
+
+"Den doan' you call me er nigger!"
+
+"Who' yer talkin to, sah? You kin fling yer sass at white folks, but,
+honey, yuse er projeckin' wid death now!"
+
+"I ain't er nigger--I'se er gemman, I is," was the sullen answer.
+
+"How ole is you?" asked Aleck in milder tones.
+
+"Me mudder say sixteen--but de Buro man say I'se twenty-one yistiddy, de
+day 'fo' 'lection."
+
+"Is you voted to-day?"
+
+"Yessah; vote in all de boxes 'cept'n dis one. Look at dat ticket. Is dat
+de straight ticket?"
+
+Aleck, who couldn't read the twelve-inch letters of his favourite bar-room
+sign, took the rat label and examined it critically.
+
+"What ail it?" he asked at length.
+
+The boy pointed at the picture of the rat.
+
+"What dat rat doin', lyin' dar on his back, wid his heels cocked up in de
+air--'pear ter me lak a rat otter be standin' on his feet!"
+
+Aleck reëxamined it carefully, and then smiled benignly on the youth.
+
+"De ignance er dese folks. What ud yer do widout er man lak me enjued wid
+de sperit en de power ter splain tings?"
+
+"You sho' got de sperits," said the boy impudently, touching a canteen.
+
+Aleck ignored the remark and looked at the rat label smilingly.
+
+"Ain't we er votin', ter-day, on de Constertooshun what's ter take de
+ballot away f'um de white folks en gib all de power ter de cullud
+gemmen--I axes yer dat?"
+
+The boy stuck his thumbs under his arms and walled his eyes.
+
+"Yessah!"
+
+"Den dat means de ratification ob de Constertooshun!"
+
+Phil laughed, followed, and watched them fold their tickets, get in line,
+and vote the rat labels.
+
+Ben turned toward a white man with gray beard, who stood watching the
+crowd.
+
+He was a pious member of the Presbyterian church but his face didn't have
+a pious expression to-day. He had been refused the right to vote because
+he had aided the Confederacy by nursing one of his wounded boys.
+
+He touched his hat politely to Ben.
+
+"What do you think of it, Colonel Cameron?" he asked with a touch of
+scorn.
+
+"What's your opinion, Mr. McAllister?"
+
+"Well, Colonel, I've been a member of the church for over forty years. I'm
+not a cussin' man--but there's a sight I never expected to live to see.
+I've been a faithful citizen of this State for fifty years. I can't vote,
+and a nigger is to be elected to-day to represent me in the Legislature.
+Neither you, Colonel, nor your father are good enough to vote. Every
+nigger in this county sixteen years old and up voted to-day--I ain't a
+cussing man, and I don't say it as a cuss word, but all I've got to say
+is, IF there BE such a thing as a d--d shame--that's it!"
+
+"Mr. McAllister, the recording angel wouldn't have made a mark had you
+said it without the 'IF.'"
+
+"God knows what this country's coming to--I don't," said the old man
+bitterly. "I'm afraid to let my wife and daughter go out of the house, or
+stay in it, without somebody with them."
+
+Ben leaned closer and whispered, as Phil approached:
+
+"Come to my office to-night at ten o'clock; I want to see you on some
+important business."
+
+The old man seized his hand eagerly.
+
+"Shall I bring the boys?"
+
+Ben smiled.
+
+"No. I've seen them some time ago."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+BY THE LIGHT OF A TORCH
+
+
+On the night of the election Mrs. Lenoir gave a ball at the hotel in
+honour of Marion's entrance into society. She was only in her sixteenth
+year, yet older than her mother when mistress of her own household. The
+only ambition the mother cherished was that she might win the love of an
+honest man and build for herself a beautiful home on the site of the
+cottage covered with trailing roses. In this home dream for Marion she
+found a great sustaining joy to which nothing in the life of man answers.
+
+The ball had its political significance which the military martinet who
+commanded the post understood. It was the way the people of Piedmont
+expressed to him and the world their contempt for the farce of an election
+he had conducted, and their indifference as to the result he would
+celebrate with many guns before midnight.
+
+The young people of the town were out in force. Marion was a universal
+favourite. The grace, charm, and tender beauty of the Southern girl of
+sixteen were combined in her with a gentle and unselfish disposition. Amid
+poverty that was pitiful, unconscious of its limitations, her thoughts
+were always of others, and she was the one human being everybody had
+agreed to love. In the village in which she lived wealth counted for
+naught. She belonged to the aristocracy of poetry, beauty, and intrinsic
+worth, and her people knew no other.
+
+As she stood in the long dining-room, dressed in her first ball costume of
+white organdy and lace, the little plump shoulders peeping through its
+meshes, she was the picture of happiness. A half-dozen boys hung on every
+word as the utterance of an oracle. She waved gently an old ivory fan with
+white down on its edges in a way the charm of which is the secret
+birthright of every Southern girl.
+
+Now and then she glanced at the door for some one who had not yet
+appeared.
+
+Phil paid his tribute to her with genuine feeling, and Marion repaid him
+by whispering:
+
+"Margaret's dressed to kill--all in soft azure blue--her rosy cheeks,
+black hair, and eyes never shone as they do to-night. She doesn't dance on
+account of her Sunday-school--it's all for you."
+
+Phil blushed and smiled.
+
+"The preacher won't be here?"
+
+"Our rector will."
+
+"He's a nice old gentleman. I'm fond of him. Miss Marion, your mother is a
+genius. I hope she can plan these little affairs oftener."
+
+It was half-past ten o'clock when Ben Cameron entered the room with Elsie
+a little ruffled at his delay over imaginary business at his office. Ben
+answered her criticisms with a strange elation. She had felt a secret
+between them and resented it.
+
+At Mrs. Lenoir's special request, he had put on his full uniform of a
+Confederate Colonel in honour of Marion and the poem her father had
+written of one of his gallant charges. He had not worn it since he fell
+that day in Phil's arms.
+
+No one in the room had ever seen him in this Colonel's uniform. Its yellow
+sash with the gold fringe and tassels was faded and there were two bullet
+holes in the coat. A murmur of applause from the boys, sighs and
+exclamations from the girls swept the room as he took Marion's hand, bowed
+and kissed it. Her blue eyes danced and smiled on him with frank
+admiration.
+
+"Ben, you're the handsomest thing I've ever seen!" she said softly.
+
+"Thanks. I thought you had a mirror. I'll send you one," he answered,
+slipping his arm around her and gliding away to the strains of a waltz.
+The girl's hand trembled as she placed it on his shoulder, her cheeks were
+flushed, and her eyes had a wistful dreamy look in their depths.
+
+When Ben rejoined Elsie and they strolled on the lawn, the military
+commandant suddenly confronted them with a squad of soldiers.
+
+"I'll trouble you for those buttons and shoulder straps," said the
+Captain.
+
+Elsie's amber eyes began to spit fire. Ben stood still and smiled.
+
+"What do you mean?" she asked.
+
+"That I will not be insulted by the wearing of this uniform to-day."
+
+"I dare you to touch it, coward, poltroon!" cried the girl, her plump
+little figure bristling in front of her lover.
+
+Ben laid his hand on her arm and gently drew her back to his side: "He has
+the power to do this. It is a technical violation of law to wear them. I
+have surrendered. I am a gentleman and I have been a soldier. He can have
+his tribute. I've promised my father to offer no violence to the military
+authority of the United States."
+
+He stepped forward, and the officer cut the buttons from his coat and
+ripped the straps from his shoulders.
+
+While the performance was going on, Ben quietly said:
+
+"General Grant at Appomattox, with the instincts of a great soldier, gave
+our men his spare horses and ordered that Confederate officers retain
+their side-arms. The General is evidently not in touch with this force."
+
+"No: I'm in command in this county," said the Captain.
+
+"Evidently."
+
+When he had gone, Elsie's eyes were dim. They strolled under the shadow of
+the great oak and stood in silence, listening to the music within and the
+distant murmur of the falls.
+
+"Why is it, sweetheart, that a girl will persist in admiring brass
+buttons?" Ben asked softly.
+
+She raised her lips to his for a kiss and answered:
+
+"Because a soldier's business is to die for his country."
+
+As Ben led her back into the ballroom and surrendered her to a friend for
+a dance, the first gun pealed its note of victory from the square in the
+celebration of the triumph of the African slave over his white master.
+
+Ben strolled out in the street to hear the news.
+
+The Constitution had been ratified by an enormous majority, and a
+Legislature elected composed of 101 negroes and 23 white men. Silas Lynch
+had been elected Lieutenant-Governor, a negro Secretary of State, a negro
+Treasurer, and a negro Justice of the Supreme Court.
+
+When Bizzel, the wizzen-faced agent of the Freedman's Bureau, made this
+announcement from the courthouse steps, pandemonium broke lose. An
+incessant rattle of musketry began in which ball cartridges were used, the
+missiles whistling over the town in every direction. Yet within half an
+hour the square was deserted and a strange quiet followed the storm.
+
+Old Aleck staggered by the hotel, his drunkenness having reached the
+religious stage.
+
+"Behold, a curiosity, gentlemen," cried Ben to a group of boys who had
+gathered, "a voter is come among us--in fact, he is the people, the king,
+our representative elect, the Honourable Alexander Lenoir, of the county
+of Ulster!"
+
+"Gemmens, de Lawd's bin good ter me," said Aleck, weeping copiously.
+
+"They say the rat labels were in a majority in this precinct--how was
+that?" asked Ben.
+
+"Yessah--dat what de scornful say--dem dat sets in de seat o' de scornful,
+but de Lawd er Hosts He fetch 'em low. Mistah Bissel de Buro man count all
+dem rat votes right, sah--dey couldn't fool him--he know what dey mean--he
+count 'em all for me an' de ratification."
+
+"Sure-pop!" said Ben; "if you can't ratify with a rat, I'd like to know
+why?"
+
+"Dat's what I tells 'em, sah."
+
+"Of course," said Ben good-humouredly. "The voice of the people is the
+voice of God--rats or no rats--if you know how to count."
+
+As old Aleck staggered away, the sudden crash of a volley of musketry
+echoed in the distance.
+
+"What's that?" asked Ben, listening intently. The sound was unmistakable
+to a soldier's ear--that volley from a hundred rifles at a single word of
+command. It was followed by a shot on a hill in the distance, and then by
+a faint echo, farther still. Ben listened a few moments and turned into
+the lawn of the hotel. The music suddenly stopped, the tramp of feet
+echoed on the porch, a woman screamed, and from the rear of the house came
+the cry:
+
+"Fire! Fire!"
+
+Almost at the same moment an immense sheet of flame shot skyward from the
+big barn.
+
+"My God!" groaned Ben. "Jake's in jail to-night, and they've set the barn
+on fire. It's worth more than the house."
+
+The crowd rushed down the hill to the blazing building, Marion's fleet
+figure in its flying white dress leading the crowd.
+
+The lowing of the cows and the wild neighing of the horses rang above the
+roar of the flames.
+
+Before Ben could reach the spot Marion had opened every stall. Two cows
+leaped out to safety, but not a horse would move from its stall, and each
+moment wilder and more pitiful grew their death cries.
+
+Marion rushed to Ben, her eyes dilated, her face as white as the dress she
+wore.
+
+"Oh, Ben, Queen won't come out! What shall I do?"
+
+"You can do nothing, child. A horse won't come out of a burning stable
+unless he's blindfolded. They'll all be burned to death."
+
+"Oh! no!" the girl cried in agony.
+
+"They'd trample you to death if you tried to get them out. It can't be
+helped. It's too late."
+
+As Ben looked back at the gathering crowd, Marion suddenly snatched a
+horse blanket, lying at the door, ran with the speed of a deer to the
+pond, plunged in, sprang out, and sped back to the open door of Queen's
+stall, through which her shrill cry could be heard above the others.
+
+As the girl ran toward the burning building, her thin white dress clinging
+close to her exquisite form, she looked like the marble figure of a sylph
+by the hand of some great master into which God had suddenly breathed the
+breath of life.
+
+As they saw her purpose, a cry of horror rose from the crowd, her mother's
+scream loud above the rest.
+
+Ben rushed to catch her, shouting:
+
+"Marion! Marion! She'll trample you to death!"
+
+He was too late. She leaped into the stall. The crowd held their breath.
+There was a moment of awful suspense, and the mare sprang through the open
+door with the little white figure clinging to her mane and holding the
+blanket over her head.
+
+A cheer rang above the roar of the flames. The girl did not loose her hold
+until her beautiful pet was led to a place of safety, while she clung to
+her neck and laughed and cried for joy. First her mother, then Margaret,
+Mrs. Cameron, and Elsie took her in their arms.
+
+As Ben approached the group, Elsie whispered to him: "Kiss her!"
+
+Ben took her hand, his eyes full of unshed tears, and said:
+
+"The bravest deed a woman ever did--you're a heroine, Marion!"
+
+Before she knew it he stooped and kissed her.
+
+She was very still for a moment, smiled, trembled from head to foot,
+blushed scarlet, took her mother by the hand, and without a word hurried
+to the house.
+
+Poor Becky was whining among the excited crowd and sought in vain for
+Marion. At last she got Margaret's attention, caught her dress in her
+teeth and led her to a corner of the lot, where she had laid side by side
+her puppies, smothered to death. She stood and looked at them with her
+tail drooping, the picture of despair. Margaret burst into tears and
+called Ben.
+
+He bent and put his arm around the setter's neck and stroked her head with
+his hand. Looking at up his sister, he said:
+
+"Don't tell Marion of this. She can't stand any more to-night."
+
+The crowd had all dispersed, and the flames had died down for want of
+fuel. The odour of roasting flesh, pungent and acrid, still lingered a
+sharp reminder of the tragedy.
+
+Ben stood on the back porch, talking in low tones to his father.
+
+"Will you join us now, sir? We need the name and influence of men of your
+standing."
+
+"My boy, two wrongs never made a right. It's better to endure awhile. The
+sober commonsense of the Nation will yet save us. We must appeal to it."
+
+"Eight more fires were seen from town to-night."
+
+"You only guess their origin."
+
+"I know their origin. It was done by the League at a signal as a
+celebration of the election and a threat of terror to the county. One of
+our men concealed a faithful negro under the floor of the school-house and
+heard the plot hatched. We expected it a month ago--but hoped they had
+given it up."
+
+"Even so, my boy, a secret society such as you have planned means a
+conspiracy that may bring exile or death. I hate lawlessness and disorder.
+We have had enough of it. Your clan means ultimately martial law. At least
+we will get rid of these soldiers by this election. They have done their
+worst to me, but we may save others by patience."
+
+"It's the only way, sir. The next step will be a black hand on a white
+woman's throat!"
+
+The doctor frowned. "Let us hope for the best. Your clan is the last act
+of desperation."
+
+"But if everything else fail, and this creeping horror becomes a
+fact--then what?"
+
+"My boy, we will pray that God may never let us live to see the day!"
+
+[Illustration: THE BLACK MASTERS OF THE SOUTH DURING RECONSTRUCTION.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE RIOT IN THE MASTER'S HALL
+
+
+Alarmed at the possible growth of the secret clan into which Ben had urged
+him to enter, Dr. Cameron determined to press for relief from oppression
+by an open appeal to the conscience of the Nation.
+
+He called a meeting of conservative leaders in a Taxpayers' Convention at
+Columbia. His position as leader had been made supreme by the indignities
+he had suffered, and he felt sure of his ability to accomplish results.
+Every county in the State was represented by its best men in this
+gathering at the Capitol.
+
+The day he undertook to present his memorial to the Legislature was one he
+never forgot. The streets were crowded with negroes who had come to town
+to hear Lynch, the Lieutenant-Governor, speak in a mass-meeting. Negro
+policemen swung their clubs in his face as he pressed through the insolent
+throng up the street to the stately marble Capitol. At the door a black,
+greasy trooper stopped him to parley. Every decently dressed white man was
+regarded a spy.
+
+As he passed inside the doors of the House of Representatives the rush of
+foul air staggered him. The reek of vile cigars and stale whiskey, mingled
+with the odour of perspiring negroes, was overwhelming. He paused and
+gasped for breath.
+
+The space behind the seats of the members was strewn with corks, broken
+glass, stale crusts, greasy pieces of paper, and picked bones. The hall
+was packed with negroes, smoking, chewing, jabbering, pushing,
+perspiring.
+
+A carpet-bagger at his elbow was explaining to an old darkey from down
+east why his forty acres and a mule hadn't come.
+
+On the other side of him a big negro bawled:
+
+"Dat's all right! De cullud man on top!"
+
+The doctor surveyed the hall in dismay. At first not a white member was
+visible. The galleries were packed with negroes. The Speaker presiding was
+a negro, the Clerk a negro, the doorkeepers negroes, the little pages all
+coal-black negroes, the Chaplain a negro. The negro party consisted of one
+hundred and one--ninety-four blacks and seven scallawags, who claimed to
+be white. The remains of Aryan civilization were represented by
+twenty-three white men from the Scotch-Irish hill counties.
+
+The doctor had served three terms as the member from Ulster in this hall
+in the old days, and its appearance now was beyond any conceivable depth
+of degradation.
+
+The ninety-four Africans, constituting almost its solid membership, were a
+motley crew. Every negro type was there, from the genteel butler to the
+clodhopper from the cotton and rice fields. Some had on second-hand seedy
+frock-coats their old master had given them before the war, glossy and
+threadbare. Old stovepipe hats, of every style in vogue since Noah came
+out of the ark, were placed conspicuously on the desks or cocked on the
+backs of the heads of the honourable members. Some wore the coarse clothes
+of the field, stained with red mud.
+
+Old Aleck, he noted, had a red woollen comforter wound round his neck in
+place of a shirt or collar. He had tried to go barefooted, but the Speaker
+had issued a rule that members should come shod. He was easing his feet by
+placing his brogans under the desk, wearing only his red socks.
+
+Each member had his name painted in enormous gold letters on his desk, and
+had placed beside it a sixty-dollar French imported spittoon. Even the
+Congress of the United States, under the inspiration of Oakes Ames and
+Speaker Colfax, could only afford one of domestic make, which cost a
+dollar.
+
+The uproar was deafening. From four to six negroes were trying to speak at
+the same time. Aleck's majestic mouth with blue gums and projecting teeth
+led the chorus as he ambled down the aisle, his bow-legs flying their
+red-sock ensigns.
+
+The Speaker singled him out--his voice was something which simply could
+not be ignored--rapped and yelled:
+
+"De gemman from Ulster set down!"
+
+Aleck turned crestfallen and resumed his seat, throwing his big flat feet
+in their red woollens up on his desk and hiding his face behind their
+enormous spread.
+
+He had barely settled in his chair before a new idea flashed through his
+head and up he jumped again:
+
+"Mistah Speaker!" he bawled.
+
+"Orda da!" yelled another.
+
+"Knock 'im in de head!"
+
+"Seddown, nigger!"
+
+The Speaker pointed his gavel at Aleck and threatened him laughingly:
+
+"Ef de gemman from Ulster doan set down I gwine call 'im ter orda!"
+
+Uncle Aleck greeted this threat with a wild guffaw, which the whole House
+about him joined in heartily. They laughed like so many hens
+cackling--when one started the others would follow.
+
+The most of them were munching peanuts, and the crush of hulls under heavy
+feet added a subnote to the confusion like the crackle of a prairie fire.
+
+The ambition of each negro seemed to be to speak at least a half-dozen
+times on each question, saying the same thing every time.
+
+No man was allowed to talk five minutes without an interruption which
+brought on another and another until the speaker was drowned in a storm of
+contending yells. Their struggles to get the floor with bawlings,
+bellowings, and contortions, and the senseless rap of the Speaker's gavel,
+were something appalling.
+
+On this scene, through fetid smoke and animal roar, looked down from the
+walls, in marble bas-relief, the still white faces of Robert Hayne and
+George McDuffie, through whose veins flowed the blood of Scottish kings,
+while over it brooded in solemn wonder the face of John Laurens, whose
+diplomatic genius at the court of France won millions of gold for our
+tottering cause, and sent a French fleet and army into the Chesapeake to
+entrap Cornwallis at Yorktown.
+
+The little group of twenty-three white men, the descendants of these
+spirits, to whom Dr. Cameron had brought his memorial, presented a
+pathetic spectacle. Most of them were old men, who sat in grim silence
+with nothing to do or say as they watched the rising black tide, their
+dignity, reserve, and decorum at once the wonder and the shame of the
+modern world.
+
+At least they knew that the minstrel farce being enacted on that floor was
+a tragedy as deep and dark as was ever woven of the blood and tears of a
+conquered people. Beneath those loud guffaws they could hear the death
+rattle in the throat of their beloved State, barbarism strangling
+civilization by brute force.
+
+For all the stupid uproar, the black leaders of this mob knew what they
+wanted. One of them was speaking now, the leader of the House, the
+Honourable Napoleon Whipper.
+
+Dr. Cameron had taken his seat in the little group of white members in one
+corner of the chamber, beside an old friend from an adjoining county whom
+he had known in better days.
+
+"Now listen," said his friend. "When Whipper talks he always says
+something."
+
+"Mr. Speaker, I move you, sir, in view of the arduous duties which our
+presiding officer has performed this week for the State, that he be
+allowed one thousand dollars extra pay."
+
+The motion was put without debate and carried.
+
+The Speaker then called Whipper to the Chair and made the same motion, to
+give the Leader of the House an extra thousand dollars for the performance
+of his heavy duties.
+
+It was carried.
+
+"What does that mean?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Very simple; Whipper and the Speaker adjourned the House yesterday
+afternoon to attend a horse race. They lost a thousand dollars each
+betting on the wrong horse. They are recuperating after the strain. They
+are booked for judges of the Supreme Court when they finish this job. The
+negro mass-meeting to-night is to indorse their names for the Supreme
+Bench."
+
+"Is it possible!" the doctor exclaimed.
+
+When Whipper resumed his place at his desk, the introduction of bills
+began. One after another were sent to the Speaker's desk, a measure to
+disarm the whites and equip with modern rifles a negro militia of 80,000
+men; to make the uniform of Confederate gray the garb of convicts in South
+Carolina, with a sign of the rank to signify the degree of crime; to
+prevent any person calling another a "nigger"; to require men to remove
+their hats in the presence of all officers, civil or military, and all
+disfranchised men to remove their hats in the presence of voters; to force
+black and whites to attend the same schools and open the State University
+to negroes; to permit the intermarriage of whites and blacks; and to
+inforce social equality.
+
+Whipper made a brief speech on the last measure:
+
+"Before I am through, I mean that it shall be known that Napoleon Whipper
+is as good as any man in South Carolina. Don't tell me that I am not on an
+equality with any man God ever made."
+
+Dr. Cameron turned pale, and trembling with excitement, asked his friend:
+
+"Can that man pass such measures, and the Governor sign them?"
+
+"He can pass anything he wishes. The Governor is his creature--a dirty
+little scallawag who tore the Union flag from Fort Sumter, trampled it in
+the dust, and helped raise the flag of Confederacy over it. Now he is
+backed by the Government at Washington. He won his election by dancing at
+negro balls and the purchase of delegates. His salary as Governor is
+$3,500 a year, and he spends over $40,000. Comment is unnecessary. This
+Legislature has stolen millions of dollars, and already bankrupted the
+treasury. The day Howle was elected to the Senate of the United States
+every negro on the floor had his roll of bills and some of them counted it
+out on their desks. In your day the annual cost of the State government
+was $400,000. This year it is $2,000,000. These thieves steal daily. They
+don't deny it. They simply dare you to prove it. The writing paper on the
+desks cost $16,000. These clocks on the wall $600 each, and every little
+Radical newspaper in the State has been subsidized in sums varying from
+$1,000 to $7,000. Each member is allowed to draw for mileage, per diem,
+and 'sundries.' God only knows what the bill for 'sundries' will aggregate
+by the end of the session."
+
+"I couldn't conceive of this!" exclaimed the doctor.
+
+"I've only given you a hint. We are a conquered race. The iron hand of
+Fate is on us. We can only wait for the shadows to deepen into night.
+President Grant appears to be a babe in the woods. Schuyler Colfax, the
+Vice-president, and Belknap, the Secretary of War, are in the saddle in
+Washington. I hear things are happening there that are quite interesting.
+Besides, Congress now can give little relief. The real lawmaking power in
+America is the State Legislature. The State lawmaker enters into the holy
+of holies of our daily life. Once more we are a sovereign State--a
+sovereign negro State."
+
+"I fear my mission is futile," said the doctor.
+
+"It's ridiculous--I'll call for you to-night and take you to hear Lynch,
+our Lieutenant-Governor. He is a remarkable man. Our negro Supreme Court
+Judge will preside--"
+
+Uncle Aleck, who had suddenly spied Dr. Cameron, broke in with a laughing
+welcome:
+
+"I 'clar ter goodness, Dr. Cammun, I didn't know you wuz here, sah. I sho'
+glad ter see you. I axes yer ter come across de street ter my room; I got
+sumfin' pow'ful pertickler ter say ter you."
+
+The doctor followed Aleck out of the hall and across the street to his
+room in a little boarding-house. His door was locked, and the windows
+darkened by blinds. Instead of opening the blinds he lighted a lamp.
+
+"Ob cose, Dr. Cammun, you say nuffin 'bout what I gwine tell you?"
+
+"Certainly not, Aleck."
+
+The room was full of drygoods boxes. The space under the bed was packed,
+and they were piled to the ceiling around the walls.
+
+"Why, what's all this, Aleck?"
+
+The member from Ulster chuckled:
+
+"Dr. Cammun, yu'se been er pow'ful frien' ter me--gimme medicine lots er
+times, en I hain't nebber paid you nuttin'. I'se sho' come inter de
+kingdom now, en I wants ter pay my respects ter you, sah. Des look ober
+dat paper, en mark what you wants, en I hab 'em sont home fur you."
+
+The member from Ulster handed his physician a printed list of more than
+five hundred articles of merchandise. The doctor read it over with
+amazement.
+
+"I don't understand it, Aleck. Do you own a store?"
+
+"Na-sah, but we git all we wants fum mos' eny ob 'em. Dem's 'sundries,'
+sah, dat de Gubment gibs de members. We des orda what we needs. No trouble
+'tall, sah. De men what got de goods come roun' en beg us ter take 'em."
+
+The doctor smiled in spite of the tragedy back of the joke.
+
+"Let's see some of the goods, Aleck--are they first class?"
+
+"Yessah; de bes' goin'. I show you."
+
+He pulled out a number of boxes and bundles, exhibiting carpets, door
+mats, hassocks, dog collars, cow bells, oilcloths, velvets, mosquito nets,
+damask, Irish linen, billiard outfits, towels, blankets, flannels, quilts,
+women's hoods, hats, ribbons, pins, needles, scissors, dumb bells, skates,
+crape skirt braids, tooth brushes, face powder, hooks and eyes, skirts,
+bustles, chignons, garters, artificial busts, chemises, parasols, watches,
+jewellery, diamond earrings, ivory-handled knives and forks, pistols and
+guns, and a Webster's Dictionary.
+
+"Got lots mo' in dem boxes nailed up dar--yessah, hit's no use er lettin'
+good tings go by yer when you kin des put out yer han' en stop 'em! Some
+er de members ordered horses en carriages, but I tuk er par er fine mules
+wid harness en two buggies an er wagin. Dey 'roun at de libry stable,
+sah."
+
+The doctor thanked Aleck for his friendly feeling, but told him it was, of
+course, impossible for him at this time, being only a taxpayer and neither
+a voter nor a member of the Legislature, to share in his supply of
+"sundries."
+
+He went to the warehouse that night with his friend to hear Lynch,
+wondering if his mind were capable of receiving another shock.
+
+This meeting had been called to indorse the candidacy, for Justice of the
+Supreme Court, of Napoleon Whipper, the Leader of the House, the notorious
+negro thief and gambler, and of William Pitt Moses, an ex-convict, his
+confederate in crime. They had been unanimously chosen for the positions
+by a secret caucus of the ninety-four negro members of the House. This
+addition to the Court, with the negro already a member, would give a
+majority to the black man on the last Tribunal of Appeal.
+
+The few white men of the party who had any sense of decency were in open
+revolt at this atrocity. But their influence was on the wane. The
+carpet-bagger shaped the first Convention and got the first plums of
+office. Now the negro was in the saddle, and he meant to stay. There were
+not enough white men in the Legislature to force a roll-call on a division
+of the House. This meeting was an open defiance of all pale-faces inside
+or outside party lines.
+
+Every inch of space in the big cotton warehouse was jammed--a black living
+cloud, pungent and piercing.
+
+The distinguished Lieutenant-Governor, Silas Lynch, had not yet arrived,
+but the negro Justice of the Supreme Court, Pinchback, was in his seat as
+the presiding officer.
+
+Dr. Cameron watched the movements of the black judge, already notorious
+for the sale of his opinions, with a sense of sickening horror. This man
+was but yesterday a slave, his father a medicine man in an African jungle
+who decided the guilt or innocence of the accused by the test of
+administering poison. If the poison killed the man, he was guilty; if he
+survived, he was innocent. For four thousand years his land had stood a
+solid bulwark of unbroken barbarism. Out of its darkness he had been
+thrust upon the seat of judgment of the laws of the proudest and highest
+type of man evolved in time. It seemed a hideous dream.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by a shout. It came spontaneous and
+tremendous in its genuine feeling. The magnificent figure of Lynch, their
+idol, appeared walking down the aisle escorted by the little scallawag who
+was the Governor.
+
+He took his seat on the platform with the easy assurance of conscious
+power. His broad shoulders, superb head, and gleaming jungle eyes held
+every man in the audience before he had spoken a word.
+
+In the first masterful tones of his voice the doctor's keen intelligence
+caught the ring of his savage metal and felt the shock of his powerful
+personality--a personality which had thrown to the winds every mask, whose
+sole aim of life was sensual, whose only fears were of physical pain and
+death, who could worship a snake and sacrifice a human being.
+
+His playful introduction showed him a child of Mystery, moved by Voices
+and inspired by a Fetish. His face was full of good humour, and his whole
+figure rippled with sleek animal vivacity. For the moment, life was a
+comedy and a masquerade teeming with whims, fancies, ecstasies and
+superstitions.
+
+He held the surging crowd in the hollow of his hand. They yelled, laughed,
+howled, or wept as he willed.
+
+Now he painted in burning words the imaginary horrors of slavery until the
+tears rolled down his cheeks and he wept at the sound of his own voice.
+Every dusky hearer burst into tears and moans.
+
+He stopped, suddenly brushed the tears from his eyes, sprang to the edge
+of the platform, threw both arms above his head and shouted:
+
+"Hosannah to the Lord God Almighty for Emancipation!"
+
+Instantly five thousand negroes, as one man, were on their feet, shouting
+and screaming. Their shouts rose in unison, swelled into a thunder peal,
+and died away as one voice.
+
+Dead silence followed, and every eye was again riveted on Lynch. For two
+hours the doctor sat transfixed, listening and watching him sway the vast
+audience with hypnotic power.
+
+There was not one note of hesitation or of doubt. It was the challenge of
+race against race to mortal combat. His closing words again swept every
+negro from his seat and melted every voice into a single frenzied shout:
+
+"Within five years," he cried, "the intelligence and the wealth of this
+mighty State will be transferred to the negro race. Lift up your heads.
+The world is yours. Take it. Here and now I serve notice on every white
+man who breathes that I am as good as he is. I demand, and I am going to
+have, the privilege of going to see him in his house or his hotel, eating
+with him and sleeping with him, and when I see fit, to take his daughter
+in marriage!"
+
+As the doctor emerged from the stifling crowd with his friend, he drew a
+deep breath of fresh air, took from his pocket his conservative memorial,
+picked it into little bits, and scattered them along the street as he
+walked in silence back to his hotel.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+AT LOVER'S LEAP
+
+
+In spite of the pitiful collapse of old Stoneman under his stroke of
+paralysis, his children still saw the unconquered soul shining in his
+colourless eyes. They had both been on the point of confessing their love
+affairs to him and joining in the inevitable struggle when he was
+stricken. They knew only too well that he would not consent to a dual
+alliance with the Camerons under the conditions of fierce hatreds and
+violence into which the State had drifted. They were too high-minded to
+consider a violation of his wishes while thus helpless, with his strange
+eyes following them about in childlike eagerness. His weakness was
+mightier than his iron will.
+
+So, for eighteen months, while he slowly groped out of mental twilight,
+each had waited--Elsie with a tender faith struggling with despair, and
+Phil in a torture of uncertainty and fear.
+
+In the meantime, the young Northerner had become as radical in his
+sympathies with the Southern people as his father had ever been against
+them. This power of assimilation has always been a mark of Southern
+genius. The sight of the Black Hand on their throats now roused his
+righteous indignation. The patience with which they endured was to him
+amazing. The Southerner he had found to be the last man on earth to become
+a revolutionist. All his traits were against it. His genius for command,
+the deep sense of duty and honour, his hospitality, his deathless love of
+home, his supreme constancy and sense of civic unity, all combined to make
+him ultraconservative. He began now to see that it was reverence for
+authority as expressed in the Constitution under which slavery was
+established which made Secession inevitable.
+
+Besides, the laziness and incapacity of the negro had been more than he
+could endure. With no ties of tradition or habits of life to bind him, he
+simply refused to tolerate them. In this feeling Elsie had grown early to
+sympathize. She discharged Aunt Cindy for feeding her children from the
+kitchen, and brought a cook and house girl from the North, while Phil
+would employ only white men in any capacity.
+
+In the desolation of negro rule the Cameron farm had become worthless. The
+taxes had more than absorbed the income, and the place was only kept from
+execution by the indomitable energy of Mrs. Cameron, who made the hotel
+pay enough to carry the interest on a mortgage which was increasing from
+season to season.
+
+The doctor's practice was with him a divine calling. He never sent bills
+to his patients. They paid something if they had it. Now they had
+nothing.
+
+Ben's law practice was large for his age and experience, but his clients
+had no money.
+
+While the Camerons were growing each day poorer, Phil was becoming rich.
+His genius, skill, and enterprise had been quick to see the possibilities
+of the waterpower. The old Eagle cotton mills had been burned during the
+war. Phil organized the Eagle & Phoenix Company, interested Northern
+capitalists, bought the falls, and erected two great mills, the dim hum of
+whose spindles added a new note to the river's music. Eager, swift,
+modest, his head full of ideas, his heart full of faith, he had pressed
+forward to success.
+
+As the old Commoner's mind began to clear, and his recovery was sure, Phil
+determined to press his suit for Margaret's hand to an issue.
+
+Ben had dropped a hint of an interview of the Rev. Hugh McAlpin with Dr.
+Cameron, which had thrown Phil into a cold sweat.
+
+He hurried to the hotel to ask Margaret to drive with him that afternoon.
+He would stop at Lover's Leap and settle the question.
+
+He met the preacher, just emerging from the door, calm, handsome, serious,
+and Margaret by his side. The dark-haired beauty seemed strangely serene.
+What could it mean? His heart was in his throat. Was he too late? Wreathed
+in smiles when the preacher had gone, the girl's face was a riddle he
+could not solve.
+
+To his joy, she consented to go.
+
+As he left in his trim little buggy for the hotel, he stooped and kissed
+Elsie, whispering:
+
+"Make an offering on the altar of love for me, Sis!"
+
+"You're too slow. The prayers of all the saints will not save you!" she
+replied with a laugh, throwing him a kiss as he disappeared in the dust.
+
+As they drove through the great forest on the cliffs overlooking the
+river, the Southern world seemed lit with new splendours to-day for the
+Northerner. His heart beat with a strange courage. The odour of the pines,
+their sighing music, the subtone of the falls below, the subtle
+life-giving perfume of the fullness of summer, the splendour of the sun
+gleaming through the deep foliage, and the sweet sensuous air, all seemed
+incarnate in the calm, lovely face and gracious figure beside him.
+
+They took their seat on the old rustic built against the beech, which was
+the last tree on the brink of the cliff. A hundred feet below flowed the
+river, rippling softly along a narrow strip of sand which its current had
+thrown against the rocks. The ledge of towering granite formed a cave
+eighty feet in depth at the water's edge. From this projecting wall,
+tradition said a young Indian princess once leaped with her lover, fleeing
+from the wrath of a cruel father who had separated them. The cave below
+was inaccessible from above, being reached by a narrow footpath along the
+river's edge when entered a mile downstream.
+
+The view from the seat, under the beech, was one of marvellous beauty. For
+miles the broad river rolled in calm, shining glory seaward, its banks
+fringed with cane and trees, while fields of corn and cotton spread in
+waving green toward the distant hills and blue mountains of the west.
+
+Every tree on this cliff was cut with the initials of generations of
+lovers from Piedmont.
+
+They sat in silence for awhile, Margaret idly playing with a flower she
+had picked by the pathway, and Phil watching her devoutly. The Southern
+sun had tinged her face the reddish warm hue of ripened fruit, doubly
+radiant by contrast with her wealth of dark-brown hair. The lustrous
+glance of her eyes, half veiled by their long lashes, and the graceful,
+careless pose of her stately figure held him enraptured. Her dress of
+airy, azure blue, so becoming to her dark beauty, gave Phil the impression
+of eiderdown feathers of some rare bird of the tropics. He felt that if he
+dared to touch her she might lift her wings and sail over the cliff into
+the sky and forget to light again at his side.
+
+"I am going to ask a very bold and impertinent question, Miss Margaret,"
+Phil said with resolution. "May I?"
+
+Margaret smiled incredulously.
+
+"I'll risk your impertinence, and decide as to its boldness."
+
+"Tell me, please, what that preacher said to you to-day."
+
+Margaret looked away, unable to suppress the merriment that played about
+her eyes and mouth.
+
+"Will you never breathe it to a soul if I do?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"Honest Injun, here on the sacred altar of the princess?"
+
+"On my honour."
+
+"Then I'll tell you," she said, biting her lips to keep back a laugh. "Mr.
+McAlpin is very handsome and eloquent. I have always thought him the best
+preacher we have ever had in Piedmont----"
+
+"Yes, I know," Phil interrupted with a frown. "He is very pious," she went
+on evenly, "and seeks Divine guidance in prayer in everything he does. He
+called this morning to see me, and I was playing for him in the little
+music-room off the parlour, when he suddenly closed the door and said:
+
+"'Miss Margaret, I am going to take, this morning, the most important step
+of my life----'
+
+"Of course I hadn't the remotest idea what he meant----
+
+"'Will you join me in a word of prayer?' he asked, and knelt right down. I
+was accustomed, of course, to kneel with him in family worship at his
+pastoral calls, and so from habit I slipped to one knee by the piano
+stool, wondering what on earth he was about. When he prayed with fervour
+for the Lord to bless the great love with which he hoped to hallow my
+life--I giggled. It broke up the meeting. He rose and asked me to marry
+him. I told him the Lord hadn't revealed it to me----"
+
+Phil seized her hand and held it firmly. The smile died from the girl's
+face, her hand trembled, and the rose tint on her cheeks flamed to
+scarlet.
+
+"Margaret, my own, I love you," he cried with joy. "You could have told
+that story only to the one man whom you love--is it not true?"
+
+"Yes. I've loved you always," said the low, sweet voice.
+
+"Always?" asked Phil through a tear.
+
+"Before I saw you, when they told me you were as Ben's twin brother, my
+heart began to sing at the sound of your name----"
+
+"Call it," he whispered.
+
+"Phil, my sweetheart!" she said with a laugh.
+
+"How tender and homelike the music of your voice! The world has never seen
+the match of your gracious Southern womanhood! Snowbound in the North, I
+dreamed, as a child, of this world of eternal sunshine. And now every
+memory and dream I've found in you."
+
+"And you won't be disappointed in my simple ideal that finds its all
+within a home?"
+
+"No. I love the old-fashioned dream of the South. Maybe you have enchanted
+me, but I love these green hills and mountains, these rivers musical with
+cascade and fall, these solemn forests--but for the Black Curse, the South
+would be to-day the garden of the world!"
+
+"And you will help our people lift this curse?" softly asked the girl,
+nestling closer to his side.
+
+"Yes, dearest, thy people shall be mine! Had I a thousand wrongs to
+cherish, I'd forgive them all for your sake. I'll help you build here a
+new South on all that's good and noble in the old, until its dead fields
+blossom again, its harbours bristle with ships, and the hum of a thousand
+industries make music in every valley. I'd sing to you in burning verse if
+I could, but it is not my way. I have been awkward and slow in love,
+perhaps--but I'll be swift in your service. I dream to make dead stones
+and wood live and breathe for you, of victories wrung from Nature that are
+yours. My poems will be deeds, my flowers the hard-earned wealth that has
+a soul, which I shall lay at your feet."
+
+"Who said my lover was dumb?" she sighed, with a twinkle in her shining
+eyes. "You must introduce me to your father soon. He must like me as my
+father does you, or our dream can never come true."
+
+A pain gripped Phil's heart, but he answered bravely:
+
+"I will. He can't help loving you."
+
+They stood on the rustic seat to carve their initials within a circle,
+high on the old beechwood book of love.
+
+"May I write it out in full--Margaret Cameron--Philip Stoneman?" he
+asked.
+
+"No--only the initials now--the full names when you've seen my father and
+I've seen yours. Jeannie Campbell and Henry Lenoir were once written thus
+in full, and many a lover has looked at that circle and prayed for
+happiness like theirs. You can see there a new one cut over the old, the
+bark has filled, and written on the fresh page is 'Marion Lenoir' with the
+blank below for her lover's name."
+
+Phil looked at the freshly cut circle and laughed:
+
+"I wonder if Marion or her mother did that?"
+
+"Her mother, of course."
+
+"I wonder whose will be the lucky name some day within it?" said Phil
+musingly as he finished his own.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+A NIGHT HAWK
+
+
+When the old Commoner's private physician had gone and his mind had fully
+cleared, he would sit for hours in the sunshine of the vine-clad porch,
+asking Elsie of the village, its life, and its people. He smiled
+good-naturedly at her eager sympathy for their sufferings as at the
+enthusiasm of a child who could not understand. He had come possessed by a
+great idea--events must submit to it. Her assurance that the poverty and
+losses of the people were far in excess of the worst they had known during
+the war was too absurd even to secure his attention.
+
+He had refused to know any of the people, ignoring the existence of
+Elsie's callers. But he had fallen in love with Marion from the moment he
+had seen her. The cold eye of the old fox hunter kindled with the fire of
+his forgotten youth at the sight of this beautiful girl seated on the
+glistening back of the mare she had saved from death.
+
+As she rode through the village every boy lifted his hat as to passing
+royalty, and no one, old or young, could allow her to pass without a cry
+of admiration. Her exquisite figure had developed into the full tropic
+splendour of Southern girlhood.
+
+She had rejected three proposals from ardent lovers, on one of whom her
+mother had quite set her heart. A great fear had grown in Mrs. Lenoir's
+mind lest she were in love with Ben Cameron. She slipped her arm around
+her one day and timidly asked her.
+
+A faint flush tinged Marion's face up to the roots of her delicate blonde
+hair, and she answered with a quick laugh:
+
+"Mamma, how silly you are! You know I've always been in love with
+Ben--since I can first remember. I know he is in love with Elsie Stoneman.
+I am too young, the world too beautiful, and life too sweet to grieve over
+my first baby love. I expect to dance with him at his wedding, then meet
+my fate and build my own nest."
+
+Old Stoneman begged that she come every day to see him. He never tired
+praising her to Elsie. As she walked gracefully up to the house one
+afternoon, holding Hugh by the hand, he said to Elsie:
+
+"Next to you, my dear, she is the most charming creature I ever saw. Her
+tenderness for everything that needs help touches the heart of an old lame
+man in a very soft spot."
+
+"I've never seen any one who could resist her," Elsie answered. "Her
+gloves may be worn, her feet clad in old shoes, yet she is always neat,
+graceful, dainty, and serene. No wonder her mother worships her."
+
+Sam Ross, her simple friend, had stopped at the gate, and looked over into
+the lawn as if afraid to come in.
+
+When Marion saw Sam, she turned back to the gate to invite him in. The
+keeper of the poor, a vicious-looking negro, suddenly confronted him, and
+he shrank in terror close to the girl's side.
+
+"What you doin' here, sah?" the black keeper railed. "Ain't I done tole
+you 'bout runnin' away?"
+
+"You let him alone," Marion cried.
+
+The negro pushed her roughly from his side and knocked Sam down. The girl
+screamed for help, and old Stoneman hobbled down the steps, following
+Elsie.
+
+When they reached the gate, Marion was bending over the prostrate form.
+
+"Oh, my, my, I believe he's killed him!" she wailed.
+
+"Run for the doctor, sonny, quick," Stoneman said to Hugh. The boy darted
+away and brought Dr. Cameron.
+
+"How dare you strike that man, you devil?" thundered the old statesman.
+
+"'Case I tole 'im ter stay home en do de wuk I put 'im at, en he all de
+time runnin' off here ter git somfin' ter eat. I gwine frail de life outen
+'im, ef he doan min' me."
+
+"Well, you make tracks back to the Poorhouse. I'll attend to this man, and
+I'll have you arrested for this before night," said Stoneman, with a
+scowl.
+
+The black keeper laughed as he left.
+
+"Not 'less you'se er bigger man dan Gubner Silas Lynch, you won't!"
+
+When Dr. Cameron had restored Sam, and dressed the wound on his head where
+he had struck a stone in falling, Stoneman insisted that the boy be put to
+bed.
+
+Turning to Dr. Cameron, he asked:
+
+"Why should they put a brute like this in charge of the poor?"
+
+"That's a large question, sir, at this time," said the doctor politely,
+"and now that you have asked it, I have some things I've been longing for
+an opportunity to say to you."
+
+"Be seated, sir," the old Commoner answered, "I shall be glad to hear
+them."
+
+Elsie's heart leaped with joy over the possible outcome of this appeal,
+and she left the room with a smile for the doctor.
+
+"First, allow me," said the Southerner pleasantly, "to express my sorrow
+at your long illness, and my pleasure at seeing you so well. Your children
+have won the love of all our people and have had our deepest sympathy in
+your illness."
+
+Stoneman muttered an inaudible reply, and the doctor went on:
+
+"Your question brings up, at once, the problem of the misery and
+degradation into which our country has sunk under negro rule----"
+
+Stoneman smiled coldly and interrupted:
+
+"Of course, you understand my position in politics, Doctor Cameron--I am a
+Radical Republican."
+
+"So much the better," was the response. "I have been longing for months to
+get your ear. Your word will be all the more powerful if raised in our
+behalf. The negro is the master of our State, county, city, and town
+governments. Every school, college, hospital, asylum, and poorhouse is his
+prey. What you have seen is but a sample. Negro insolence grows beyond
+endurance. Their women are taught to insult their old mistresses and mock
+their poverty as they pass in their old, faded dresses. Yesterday a black
+driver struck a white child of six with his whip, and when the mother
+protested, she was arrested by a negro policeman, taken before a negro
+magistrate, and fined $10 for 'insulting a freedman.'"
+
+Stoneman frowned: "Such things must be very exceptional."
+
+"They are everyday occurrences and cease to excite comment. Lynch, the
+Lieutenant-Governor, who has bought a summer home here, is urging this
+campaign of insult with deliberate purpose----"
+
+The old man shook his head. "I can't think the Lieutenant-Governor guilty
+of such petty villainy."
+
+"Our school commissioner," the doctor continued, "is a negro who can
+neither read nor write. The black grand jury last week discharged a negro
+for stealing cattle and indicted the owner for false imprisonment. No such
+rate of taxation was ever imposed on a civilized people. A tithe of it
+cost Great Britain her colonies. There are 5,000 homes in this
+county--2,900 of them are advertised for sale by the sheriff to meet his
+tax bills. This house will be sold next court day----"
+
+Stoneman looked up sharply. "Sold for taxes?"
+
+"Yes; with the farm which has always been Mrs. Lenoir's support. In part
+her loss came from the cotton tax. Congress, in addition to the desolation
+of war, and the ruin of black rule, has wrung from the cotton farmers of
+the South a tax of $67,000,000. Every dollar of this money bears the stain
+of the blood of starving people. They are ready to give up, or to spring
+some desperate scheme of resistance----"
+
+The old man lifted his massive head and his great jaws came together with
+a snap:
+
+"Resistance to the authority of the National Government?"
+
+"No; resistance to the travesty of government and the mockery of
+civilization under which we are being throttled! The bayonet is now in the
+hands of a brutal negro militia. The tyranny of military martinets was
+child's play to this. As I answered your call this morning I was stopped
+and turned back in the street by the drill of a company of negroes under
+the command of a vicious scoundrel named Gus who was my former slave. He
+is the captain of this company. Eighty thousand armed negro troops,
+answerable to no authority save the savage instincts of their officers,
+terrorize the State. Every white company has been disarmed and disbanded
+by our scallawag Governor. I tell you, sir, we are walking on the crust of
+a volcano----"
+
+Old Stoneman scowled as the doctor rose and walked nervously to the window
+and back.
+
+"An appeal from you to the conscience of the North might save us," he went
+on eagerly. "Black hordes of former slaves, with the intelligence of
+children and the instincts of savages, armed with modern rifles, parade
+daily in front of their unarmed former masters. A white man has no right a
+negro need respect. The children of the breed of men who speak the tongue
+of Burns and Shakespeare, Drake and Raleigh, have been disarmed and made
+subject to the black spawn of an African jungle! Can human flesh endure
+it? When Goth and Vandal barbarians overran Rome, the negro was the slave
+of the Roman Empire. The savages of the North blew out the light of
+Ancient Civilization, but in all the dark ages which followed they never
+dreamed the leprous infamy of raising a black slave to rule over his
+former master! No people in the history of the world have ever before been
+so basely betrayed, so wantonly humiliated and degraded!"
+
+Stoneman lifted his head in amazement at the burst of passionate intensity
+with which the Southerner poured out his protest.
+
+"For a Russian to rule a Pole," he went on, "a Turk to rule a Greek, or an
+Austrian to dominate an Italian is hard enough, but for a thick-lipped,
+flat-nosed, spindle-shanked negro, exuding his nauseating animal odour, to
+shout in derision over the hearths and homes of white men and women is an
+atrocity too monstrous for belief. Our people are yet dazed by its horror.
+My God! when they realize its meaning, whose arm will be strong enough to
+hold them?"
+
+"I should think the South was sufficiently amused with resistance to
+authority," interrupted Stoneman.
+
+"Even so. Yet there is a moral force at the bottom of every living race of
+men. The sense of right, the feeling of racial destiny--these are
+unconquered and unconquerable forces. Every man in South Carolina to-day
+is glad that slavery is dead. The war was not too great a price for us to
+pay for the lifting of its curse. And now to ask a Southerner to be the
+slave of a slave----"
+
+"And yet, Doctor," said Stoneman coolly, "manhood suffrage is the one
+eternal thing fixed in the nature of Democracy. It is inevitable."
+
+"At the price of racial life? Never!" said the Southerner, with fiery
+emphasis. "This Republic is great, not by reason of the amount of dirt we
+possess, the size of our census roll, or our voting register--we are great
+because of the genius of the race of pioneer white freemen who settled
+this continent, dared the might of kings, and made a wilderness the home
+of Freedom. Our future depends on the purity of this racial stock. The
+grant of the ballot to these millions of semi-savages and the riot of
+debauchery which has followed are crimes against human progress."
+
+"Yet may we not train him?" asked Stoneman.
+
+"To a point, yes, and then sink to his level if you walk as his equal in
+physical contact with him. His race is not an infant; it is a
+degenerate--older than yours in time. At last we are face to face with the
+man whom slavery concealed with its rags. Suffrage is but the new paper
+cloak with which the Demagogue has sought to hide the issue. Can we
+assimilate the negro? The very question is pollution. In Hayti no white
+man can own land. Black dukes and marquises drive over them and swear at
+them for getting under their wheels. Is civilization a patent cloak with
+which law-tinkers can wrap an animal and make him a king?"
+
+"But the negro must be protected by the ballot," protested the statesman.
+"The humblest man must have the opportunity to rise. The real issue is
+Democracy."
+
+"The issue, sir, is Civilization! Not whether a negro shall be protected,
+but whether Society is worth saving from barbarism."
+
+"The statesman can educate," put in the Commoner.
+
+The doctor cleared his throat with a quick little nervous cough he was in
+the habit of giving when deeply moved.
+
+"Education, sir, is the development of that which _is_. Since the dawn of
+history the negro has owned the continent of Africa--rich beyond the dream
+of poet's fancy, crunching acres of diamonds beneath his bare black feet.
+Yet he never picked one up from the dust until a white man showed to him
+its glittering light. His land swarmed with powerful and docile animals,
+yet he never dreamed a harness, cart, or sled. A hunter by necessity, he
+never made an axe, spear, or arrowhead worth preserving beyond the moment
+of its use. He lived as an ox, content to graze for an hour. In a land of
+stone and timber he never sawed a foot of lumber, carved a block, or built
+a house save of broken sticks and mud. With league on league of ocean
+strand and miles of inland seas, for four thousand years he watched their
+surface ripple under the wind, heard the thunder of the surf on his beach,
+the howl of the storm over his head, gazed on the dim blue horizon calling
+him to worlds that lie beyond, and yet he never dreamed a sail! He lived
+as his fathers lived--stole his food, worked his wife, sold his children,
+ate his brother, content to drink, sing, dance, and sport as the ape!
+
+"And this creature, half child, half animal, the sport of impulse, whim,
+and conceit, 'pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw,' a being who,
+left to his will, roams at night and sleeps in the day, whose speech knows
+no word of love, whose passions, once aroused, are as the fury of the
+tiger--they have set this thing to rule over the Southern people----"
+
+The doctor sprang to his feet, his face livid, his eyes blazing with
+emotion. "Merciful God--it surpasses human belief!"
+
+He sank exhausted in his chair, and, extending his hand in an eloquent
+gesture, continued:
+
+"Surely, surely, sir, the people of the North are not mad? We can yet
+appeal to the conscience and the brain of our brethren of a common race?"
+
+Stoneman was silent as if stunned. Deep down in his strange soul he was
+drunk with the joy of a triumphant vengeance he had carried locked in the
+depths of his being, yet the intensity of this man's suffering for a
+people's cause surprised and distressed him as all individual pain hurt
+him.
+
+Dr. Cameron rose, stung by his silence and the consciousness of the
+hostility with which Stoneman had wrapped himself.
+
+"Pardon my apparent rudeness, Doctor," he said at length, extending his
+hand. "The violence of your feeling stunned me for the moment. I'm obliged
+to you for speaking. I like a plain-spoken man. I am sorry to learn of the
+stupidity of the former military commandant in this town----"
+
+"My personal wrongs, sir," the doctor broke in, "are nothing!"
+
+"I am sorry, too, about these individual cases of suffering. They are the
+necessary incidents of a great upheaval. But may it not all come out right
+in the end? After the Dark Ages, day broke at last. We have the printing
+press, railroad, and telegraph--a revolution in human affairs. We may do
+in years what it took ages to do in the past. May not the black man
+speedily emerge? Who knows? An appeal to the North will be a waste of
+breath. This experiment is going to be made. It is written in the book of
+Fate. But I like you. Come to see me again."
+
+Dr. Cameron left with a heavy heart. He had grown a great hope in this
+long-wished-for appeal to Stoneman. It had come to his ears that the old
+man, who had dwelt as one dead in their village, was a power.
+
+It was ten o'clock before the doctor walked slowly back to the hotel. As
+he passed the armoury of the black militia, they were still drilling under
+the command of Gus. The windows were open, through which came the steady
+tramp of heavy feet and the cry of "Hep! Hep! Hep!" from the Captain's
+thick cracked lips. The full-dress officer's uniform, with its gold
+epaulets, yellow stripes, and glistening sword, only accentuated the
+coarse bestiality of Gus. His huge jaws seemed to hide completely the gold
+braid on his collar.
+
+The doctor watched, with a shudder, his black bloated face covered with
+perspiration and the huge hand gripping his sword.
+
+They suddenly halted in double ranks and Gus yelled:
+
+"Odah, arms!"
+
+The butts of their rifles crashed to the floor with precision, and they
+were allowed to break ranks for a brief rest.
+
+They sang "John Brown's Body," and as its echoes died away a big negro
+swung his rifle in a circle over his head, shouting:
+
+"Here's your regulator for white trash! En dey's nine hundred ob 'em in
+dis county!"
+
+"Yas, Lawd!" howled another.
+
+"We got 'em down now en we keep 'em dar, chile!" bawled another.
+
+The doctor passed on slowly to the hotel. The night was dark, the streets
+were without lights under their present rulers, and the stars were hidden
+with swift-flying clouds which threatened a storm. As he passed under the
+boughs of an oak in front of his house, a voice above him whispered:
+
+"A message for you, sir."
+
+Had the wings of a spirit suddenly brushed his cheek, he would not have
+been more startled.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked, with a slight tremor.
+
+"A Night Hawk of the Invisible Empire, with a message from the Grand
+Dragon of the Realm," was the low answer, as he thrust a note in the
+doctor's hand. "I will wait for your answer."
+
+The doctor fumbled to his office on the corner of the lawn, struck a
+match, and read:
+
+"A great Scotch-Irish leader of the South from Memphis is here to-night
+and wishes to see you. If you will meet General Forrest, I will bring him
+to the hotel in fifteen minutes. Burn this. Ben."
+
+The doctor walked quickly back to the spot where he had heard the voice,
+and said:
+
+"I'll see him with pleasure."
+
+The invisible messenger wheeled his horse, and in a moment the echo of his
+muffled hoofs had died away in the distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE BEAT OF A SPARROW'S WING
+
+
+Dr. Cameron's appeal had left the old Commoner unshaken in his idea. There
+could be but one side to any question with such a man, and that was his
+side. He would stand by his own men, too. He believed in his own forces.
+The bayonet was essential to his revolutionary programme--hence the hand
+which held it could do no wrong. Wrongs were accidents which might occur
+under any system.
+
+Yet in no way did he display the strange contradictions of his character
+so plainly as in his inability to hate the individual who stood for the
+idea he was fighting with maniac fury. He liked Dr. Cameron instantly,
+though he had come to do a crime that would send him into beggared exile.
+
+Individual suffering he could not endure. In this the doctor's appeal had
+startling results.
+
+He sent for Mrs. Lenoir and Marion.
+
+"I understand, Madam," he said gravely, "that your house and farm are to
+be sold for taxes."
+
+"Yes, sir; we've given it up this time. Nothing can be done," was the
+hopeless answer.
+
+"Would you consider an offer of twenty dollars an acre?"
+
+"Nobody would be fool enough to offer it. You can buy all the land in the
+county for a dollar an acre. It's not worth anything."
+
+"I disagree with you," said Stoneman cheerfully. "I am looking far ahead.
+I would like to make an experiment here with Pennsylvania methods on this
+land. I'll give you ten thousand dollars cash for your five hundred acres
+if you will take it."
+
+"You don't mean it?" Mrs. Lenoir gasped, choking back the tears.
+
+"Certainly. You can at once return to your home. I'll take another house,
+and invest your money for you in good Northern securities."
+
+The mother burst into sobs, unable to speak, while Marion threw her arms
+impulsively around the old man's neck and kissed him.
+
+His cold eyes were warmed with the first tear they had shed in years.
+
+He moved the next day to the Ross estate, which he rented, had Sam brought
+back to the home of his childhood in charge of a good-natured white
+attendant, and installed in one of the little cottages on the lawn. He
+ordered Lynch to arrest the keeper of the poor, and hold him on a charge
+of assault with intent to kill, awaiting the action of the Grand Jury. The
+Lieutenant-Governor received this order with sullen anger--yet he saw to
+its execution. He was not quite ready for a break with the man who had
+made him.
+
+Astonished at his new humour, Phil and Elsie hastened to confess to him
+their love affairs and ask his approval of their choice. His reply was
+cautious, yet he did not refuse his consent. He advised them to wait a few
+months, allow him time to know the young people, and get his bearings on
+the conditions of Southern society. His mood of tenderness was a startling
+revelation to them of the depth and intensity of his love.
+
+When Mrs. Lenoir returned with Marion to her vine-clad home, she spent the
+first day of perfect joy since the death of her lover husband. The deed
+had not yet been made of the transfer of the farm, but it was only a
+question of legal formality. She was to receive the money in the form of
+interest-bearing securities and deliver the title on the following
+morning.
+
+Arm in arm, mother and daughter visited again each hallowed spot, with the
+sweet sense of ownership. The place was in perfect order. Its flowers were
+in gorgeous bloom, its walks clean and neat, the fences painted, and the
+gates swung on new hinges.
+
+They stood with their arms about one another, watching the sun sink behind
+the mountains, with tears of gratitude and hope stirring their souls.
+
+Ben Cameron strode through the gate, and they hurried to meet him with
+cries of joy.
+
+"Just dropped in a minute to see if you are snug for the night," he said.
+
+"Of course, snug and so happy we've been hugging one another for hours,"
+said the mother. "Oh, Ben, the clouds have lifted at last!"
+
+"Has Aunt Cindy come yet?" he asked.
+
+"No, but she'll be here in the morning to get breakfast. We don't want
+anything to eat," she answered.
+
+"Then I'll come out when I'm through my business to-night, and sleep in
+the house to keep you company."
+
+"Nonsense," said the mother, "we couldn't think of putting you to the
+trouble. We've spent many a night here alone."
+
+"But not in the past two years," he said with a frown.
+
+"We're not afraid," Marion said with a smile. "Besides, we'd keep you
+awake all night with our laughter and foolishness, rummaging through the
+house."
+
+"You'd better let me," Ben protested.
+
+"No," said the mother, "we'll be happier to-night alone, with only God's
+eye to see how perfectly silly we can be. Come and take supper with us
+to-morrow night. Bring Elsie and her guitar--I don't like the banjo--and
+we'll have a little love feast with music in the moonlight."
+
+"Yes, do that," cried Marion. "I know we owe this good luck to her. I want
+to tell her how much I love her for it."
+
+"Well, if you insist on staying alone," said Ben reluctantly, "I'll bring
+Miss Elsie to-morrow, but I don't like your being here without Aunt Cindy
+to-night."
+
+"Oh, we're all right!" laughed Marion, "but what I want to know is what
+you are doing out so late every night since you've come home, and where
+you were gone for the past week?"
+
+"Important business," he answered soberly.
+
+"Business--I expect!" she cried. "Look here, Ben Cameron, have you another
+girl somewhere you're flirting with?"
+
+"Yes," he answered slowly, coming closer and his voice dropping to a
+whisper, "and her name is Death."
+
+"Why, Ben!" Marion gasped, placing her trembling hand unconsciously on his
+arm, a faint flush mantling her cheek and leaving it white.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked the mother in low tones.
+
+"Nothing that I can explain. I only wish to warn you both never to ask me
+such questions before any one."
+
+"Forgive me," said Marion, with a tremor. "I didn't think it serious."
+
+Ben pressed the little warm hand, watching her mouth quiver with a smile
+that was half a sigh, as he answered:
+
+"You know I'd trust either of you with my life, but I can't be too
+careful."
+
+"We'll remember, Sir Knight," said the mother. "Don't forget, then,
+to-morrow--and spend the evening with us. I wish I had one of Marion's new
+dresses done. Poor child, she has never had a decent dress in her life
+before. You know I never look at my pretty baby grown to such a beautiful
+womanhood without hearing Henry say over and over again--'Beauty is a sign
+of the soul--the body is the soul!'"
+
+"Well, I've my doubts about your improving her with a fine dress," he
+replied thoughtfully. "I don't believe that more beautifully dressed women
+ever walked the earth than our girls of the South who came out of the war
+clad in the pathos of poverty, smiling bravely through the shadows,
+bearing themselves as queens though they wore the dress of the
+shepherdess."
+
+"I'm almost tempted to kiss you for that, as you once took advantage of
+me!" said Marion, with enthusiasm.
+
+The moon had risen and a whippoorwill was chanting his weird song on the
+lawn as Ben left them leaning on the gate.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was past midnight before they finished the last touches in restoring
+their nest to its old homelike appearance and sat down happy and tired in
+the room in which Marion was born, brooding and dreaming and talking over
+the future.
+
+The mother was hanging on the words of her daughter, all the baffled love
+of the dead poet husband, her griefs and poverty consumed in the glowing
+joy of new hopes. Her love for this child was now a triumphant passion,
+which had melted her own being into the object of worship, until the soul
+of the daughter was superimposed on the mother's as the magnetized by the
+magnetizer.
+
+"And you'll never keep a secret from me, dear?" she asked Marion.
+
+"Never."
+
+"You'll tell me all your love affairs?" she asked softly, as she drew the
+shining blonde head down on her shoulder.
+
+"Faithfully."
+
+"You know I've been afraid sometimes you were keeping something back from
+me, deep down in your heart--and I'm jealous. You didn't refuse Henry
+Grier because you loved Ben Cameron--now, did you?"
+
+The little head lay still before she answered:
+
+[Illustration: MAE MARSH AS THE VICTIM OF RECONSTRUCTION.]
+
+"How many times must I tell you, Silly, that I've loved Ben since I can
+remember, that I will always love him, and when I meet my fate, at last, I
+shall boast to my children of my sweet girl romance with the Hero of
+Piedmont, and they shall laugh and cry with me over----"
+
+"What's that?" whispered the mother, leaping to her feet.
+
+"I heard nothing," Marion answered, listening.
+
+"I thought I heard footsteps on the porch."
+
+"Maybe it's Ben, who decided to come anyhow," said the girl.
+
+"But he'd knock!" whispered the mother.
+
+The door flew open with a crash, and four black brutes leaped into the
+room, Gus in the lead, with a revolver in his hand, his yellow teeth
+grinning through his thick lips.
+
+"Scream now, an' I blow yer brains out," he growled.
+
+Blanched with horror, the mother sprang before Marion with a shivering
+cry:
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"Not you," said Gus, closing the blinds and handing a rope to another
+brute. "Tie de ole one ter de bedpost."
+
+The mother screamed. A blow from a black fist in her mouth, and the rope
+was tied.
+
+With the strength of despair she tore at the cords, half rising to her
+feet, while with mortal anguish she gasped:
+
+"For God's sake, spare my baby! Do as you will with me, and kill me--do
+not touch her!"
+
+Again the huge fist swept her to the floor.
+
+Marion staggered against the wall, her face white, her delicate lips
+trembling with the chill of a fear colder than death.
+
+"We have no money--the deed has not been delivered," she pleaded, a sudden
+glimmer of hope flashing in her blue eyes.
+
+Gus stepped closer, with an ugly leer, his flat nose dilated, his sinister
+bead eyes wide apart, gleaming apelike, as he laughed:
+
+"We ain't atter money!"
+
+The girl uttered a cry, long, tremulous, heart-rending, piteous.
+
+A single tiger spring, and the black claws of the beast sank into the soft
+white throat and she was still.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+AT THE DAWN OF DAY
+
+
+It was three o'clock before Marion regained consciousness, crawled to her
+mother, and crouched in dumb convulsions in her arms.
+
+"What can we do, my darling?" the mother asked at last.
+
+"Die--thank God, we have the strength left!"
+
+"Yes, my love," was the faint answer.
+
+"No one must ever know. We will hide quickly every trace of crime. They
+will think we strolled to Lover's Leap and fell over the cliff, and my
+name will always be sweet and clean--you understand--come, we must
+hurry----"
+
+With swift hands, her blue eyes shining with a strange light, the girl
+removed the shreds of torn clothes, bathed, and put on the dress of
+spotless white she wore the night Ben Cameron kissed her and called her a
+heroine.
+
+The mother cleaned and swept the room, piled the torn clothes and cord in
+the fireplace and burned them, dressed herself as if for a walk, softly
+closed the doors, and hurried with her daughter along the old pathway
+through the moonlit woods.
+
+At the edge of the forest she stopped and looked back tenderly at the
+little home shining amid the roses, caught their faint perfume and
+faltered:
+
+"Let's go back a minute--I want to see his room, and kiss Henry's picture
+again."
+
+"No, we are going to him now--I hear him calling us in the mists above the
+cliff," said the girl--"come, we must hurry. We might go mad and fail!"
+
+Down the dim cathedral aisles of the woods, hallowed by tender memories,
+through which the poet lover and father had taught them to walk with
+reverent feet and without fear, they fled to the old meeting-place of
+Love.
+
+On the brink of the precipice, the mother trembled, paused, drew back, and
+gasped:
+
+"Are you not afraid, my dear?"
+
+"No; death is sweet now," said the girl. "I fear only the pity of those we
+love."
+
+"Is there no other way? We might go among strangers," pleaded the mother.
+
+"We could not escape ourselves! The thought of life is torture. Only those
+who hate me could wish that I live. The grave will be soft and cool, the
+light of day a burning shame."
+
+"Come back to the seat a moment--let me tell you my love again," urged the
+mother. "Life still is dear while I hold your hand."
+
+As they sat in brooding anguish, floating up from the river valley came
+the music of a banjo in a negro cabin, mingled with vulgar shout and song
+and dance. A verse of the ribald senseless lay of the player echoed above
+the banjo's pert refrain:
+
+              "Chicken in de bread tray, pickin' up dough;
+              Granny, will your dog bite? No, chile, no!"
+
+The mother shivered and drew Marion closer.
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear! has it come to this--all my hopes of your beautiful
+life!"
+
+The girl lifted her head and kissed the quivering lips.
+
+"With what loving wonder we saw you grow," she sighed, "from a tottering
+babe on to the hour we watched the mystic light of maidenhood dawn in your
+blue eyes--and all to end in this hideous, leprous shame. No--No! I will
+not have it! It's only a horrible dream! God is not dead!"
+
+The young mother sank to her knees and buried her face in Marion's lap in
+a hopeless paroxysm of grief.
+
+The girl bent, kissed the curling hair, and smoothed it with her soft
+hand.
+
+A sparrow chirped in the tree above, a wren twittered in a bush, and down
+on the river's bank a mocking-bird softly waked his mate with a note of
+thrilling sweetness. "The morning is coming, dearest; we must go," said
+Marion. "This shame I can never forget, nor will the world forget. Death
+is the only way."
+
+They walked to the brink, and the mother's arms stole round the girl.
+
+"Oh, my baby, my beautiful darling, life of my life, heart of my heart,
+soul of my soul!"
+
+They stood for a moment, as if listening to the music of the falls,
+looking out over the valley faintly outlining itself in the dawn. The
+first far-away streaks of blue light on the mountain ranges, defining
+distance, slowly appeared. A fresh motionless day brooded over the world
+as the amorous stir of the spirit of morning rose from the moist earth of
+the fields below.
+
+A bright star still shone in the sky, and the face of the mother gazed on
+it intently. Did the Woman-spirit, the burning focus of the fiercest
+desire to live and will, catch in this supreme moment the star's Divine
+speech before which all human passions sink into silence? Perhaps, for she
+smiled. The daughter answered with a smile; and then, hand in hand, they
+stepped from the cliff into the mists and on through the opal gates of
+death.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Book IV--The Ku Klux Klan
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE HUNT FOR THE ANIMAL
+
+
+Aunt Cindy came at seven o'clock to get breakfast, and finding the house
+closed and no one at home, supposed Mrs. Lenoir and Marion had remained at
+the Cameron House for the night. She sat down on the steps, waited
+grumblingly an hour, and then hurried to the hotel to scold her former
+mistress for keeping her out so long.
+
+Accustomed to enter familiarly, she thrust her head into the dining-room,
+where the family were at breakfast with a solitary guest, muttering the
+speech she had been rehearsing on the way:
+
+"I lak ter know what sort er way dis--whar's Miss Jeannie?"
+
+Ben leaped to his feet.
+
+"Isn't she at home?"
+
+"Been waitin' dar two hours."
+
+"Great God!" he groaned, springing through the door and rushing to saddle
+the mare. As he left he called to his father: "Let no one know till I
+return."
+
+At the house he could find no trace of the crime he had suspected. Every
+room was in perfect order. He searched the yard carefully and under the
+cedar by the window he saw the barefoot tracks of a negro. The white man
+was never born who could make that track. The enormous heel projected
+backward, and in the hollow of the instep where the dirt would scarcely be
+touched by an Aryan was the deep wide mark of the African's flat foot. He
+carefully measured it, brought from an outhouse a box, and fastened it
+over the spot.
+
+It might have been an ordinary chicken thief, of course. He could not
+tell, but it was a fact of big import. A sudden hope flashed through his
+mind that they might have risen with the sun and strolled to their
+favourite haunt at Lover's Leap.
+
+In two minutes he was there, gazing with hard-set eyes at Marion's hat and
+handkerchief lying on the shelving rock.
+
+The mare bent her glistening neck, touched the hat with her nose, lifted
+her head, dilated her delicate nostrils, looked out over the cliff with
+her great soft half-human eyes and whinnied gently.
+
+Ben leaped to the ground, picked up the handkerchief, and looked at the
+initials, "M. L.," worked in the corner. He knew what lay on the river's
+brink below as well as if he stood over the dead bodies. He kissed the
+letters of her name, crushed the handkerchief in his locked hands, and
+cried:
+
+"Now, Lord God, give me strength for the service of my people!"
+
+He hurriedly examined the ground, amazed to find no trace of a struggle or
+crime. Could it be possible they had ventured too near the brink and
+fallen over?
+
+He hurried to report to his father his discoveries, instructed his mother
+and Margaret to keep the servants quiet until the truth was known, and the
+two men returned along the river's brink to the foot of the cliff.
+
+They found the bodies close to the water's edge, Marion had been killed
+instantly. Her fair blonde head lay in a crimson circle sharply defined in
+the white sand. But the mother was still warm with life. She had scarcely
+ceased to breathe. In one last desperate throb of love the trembling soul
+had dragged the dying body to the girl's side, and she had died with her
+head resting on the fair round neck as though she had kissed her and
+fallen asleep.
+
+Father and son clasped hands and stood for a moment with uncovered heads.
+The doctor said at length:
+
+"Go to the coroner at once and see that he summons the jury _you_ select
+and hand to him. Bring them immediately. I will examine the bodies before
+they arrive."
+
+Ben took the negro coroner into his office alone, turned the key, told him
+of the discovery, and handed him the list of the jury.
+
+"I'll hatter see Mr. Lynch fust, sah," he answered.
+
+Ben placed his hand on his hip pocket and said coldly:
+
+"Put your cross-mark on those forms I've made out there for you, go with
+me immediately, and summon these men. If you dare put a negro on this
+jury, or open your mouth as to what has occurred in this room, I'll kill
+you."
+
+The negro tremblingly did as he was commanded.
+
+The coroner's jury reported that the mother and daughter had been killed
+by accidentally failing over the cliff.
+
+In all the throng of grief-stricken friends who came to the little cottage
+that day, but two men knew the hell-lit secret beneath the tragedy.
+
+When the bodies reached the home, Doctor Cameron placed Mrs. Cameron and
+Margaret outside to receive visitors and prevent any one from disturbing
+him. He took Ben into the room and locked the doors.
+
+"My boy, I wish you to witness an experiment."
+
+He drew from its case a powerful microscope of French make.
+
+"What on earth are you going to do, sir?"
+
+The doctor's brilliant eyes flashed with a mystic light as he replied:
+
+"Find the fiend who did this crime--and then we will hang him on a gallows
+so high that all men from the rivers to ends of the earth shall see and
+feel and know the might of an unconquerable race of men."
+
+"But there's no trace of him here."
+
+"We shall see," said the doctor, adjusting his instrument.
+
+"I believe that a microscope of sufficient power will reveal on the retina
+of these dead eyes the image of this devil as if etched there by fire. The
+experiment has been made successfully in France. No word or deed of man is
+lost. A German scholar has a memory so wonderful he can repeat whole
+volumes of Latin, German, and French without an error. A Russian officer
+has been known to repeat the roll-call of any regiment by reading it
+twice. Psychologists hold that nothing is lost from the memory of man.
+Impressions remain in the brain like words written on paper in invisible
+ink. So I believe of images in the eye if we can trace them early enough.
+If no impression were made subsequently on the mother's eye by the light
+of day, I believe the fire-etched record of this crime can yet be
+traced."
+
+Ben watched him with breathless interest.
+
+He first examined Marion's eyes. But in the cold azure blue of their pure
+depths he could find nothing.
+
+"It's as I feared with the child," he said. "I can see nothing. It is on
+the mother I rely. In the splendour of life, at thirty-seven she was the
+full-blown perfection of womanhood, with every vital force at its highest
+tension----"
+
+He looked long and patiently into the dead mother's eye, rose and wiped
+the perspiration from his face.
+
+"What is it, sir?" asked Ben.
+
+Without reply, as if in a trance, he returned to the microscope and again
+rose with the little, quick, nervous cough he gave only in the greatest
+excitement, and whispered:
+
+"Look now and tell me what you see."
+
+Ben looked and said:
+
+"I can see nothing."
+
+"Your powers of vision are not trained as mine," replied the doctor,
+resuming his place at the instrument.
+
+"What do you see?" asked the younger man, bending nervously.
+
+"The bestial figure of a negro--his huge black hand plainly defined--the
+upper part of the face is dim, as if obscured by a gray mist of dawn--but
+the massive jaws and lips are clear--merciful God--yes--it's Gus!"
+
+The doctor leaped to his feet livid with excitement.
+
+Ben bent again, looked long and eagerly, but could see nothing.
+
+"I'm afraid the image is in your eye, sir, not the mother's," said Ben
+sadly.
+
+"That's possible, of course," said the doctor, "yet I don't believe it."
+
+"I've thought of the same scoundrel and tried blood hounds on that track,
+but for some reason they couldn't follow it. I suspected him from the
+first, and especially since learning that he left for Columbia on the
+early morning train on pretended official business."
+
+"Then I'm not mistaken," insisted the doctor, trembling with excitement.
+"Now do as I tell you. Find when he returns. Capture him, bind, gag, and
+carry him to your meeting-place under the cliff, and let me know."
+
+On the afternoon of the funeral, two days later, Ben received a cypher
+telegram from the conductor on the train telling him that Gus was on the
+evening mail due at Piedmont at nine o'clock.
+
+The papers had been filled with accounts of the accident, and an enormous
+crowd from the county and many admirers of the fiery lyrics of the poet
+father had come from distant parts to honour his name. All business was
+suspended, and the entire white population of the village followed the
+bodies to their last resting-place.
+
+As the crowds returned to their homes, no notice was taken of a dozen men
+on horseback who rode out of town by different ways about dusk. At eight
+o'clock they met in the woods near the first little flag-station located
+on McAllister's farm four miles from Piedmont, where a buggy awaited them.
+Two men of powerful build, who were strangers in the county, alighted from
+the buggy and walked along the track to board the train at the station
+three miles beyond and confer with the conductor.
+
+The men, who gathered in the woods, dismounted, removed their saddles, and
+from the folds of the blankets took a white disguise for horse and man. In
+a moment it was fitted on each horse, with buckles at the throat, breast,
+and tail, and the saddles replaced. The white robe for the man was made in
+the form of an ulster overcoat with cape, the skirt extending to the top
+of the shoes. From the red belt at the waist were swung two revolvers
+which had been concealed in their pockets. On each man's breast was a
+scarlet circle within which shone a white cross. The same scarlet circle
+and cross appeared on the horse's breast, while on his flanks flamed the
+three red mystic letters, K. K. K. Each man wore a white cap, from the
+edges of which fell a piece of cloth extending to the shoulders. Beneath
+the visor was an opening for the eyes and lower down one for the mouth. On
+the front of the caps of two of the men appeared the red wings of a hawk
+as the ensign of rank. From the top of each cap rose eighteen inches high
+a single spike held erect by a twisted wire. The disguises for man and
+horse were made of cheap unbleached domestic and weighed less than three
+pounds. They were easily folded within a blanket and kept under the saddle
+in a crowd without discovery. It required less than two minutes to remove
+the saddles, place the disguises, and remount.
+
+At the signal of a whistle, the men and horses arrayed in white and
+scarlet swung into double-file cavalry formation and stood awaiting
+orders. The moon was now shining brightly, and its light shimmering on the
+silent horses and men with their tall spiked caps made a picture such as
+the world had not seen since the Knights of the Middle Ages rode on their
+Holy Crusades.
+
+As the train neared the flag-station, which was dark and unattended, the
+conductor approached Gus, leaned over, and said: "I've just gotten a
+message from the sheriff telling me to warn you to get off at this station
+and slip into town. There's a crowd at the depot there waiting for you and
+they mean trouble."
+
+Gus trembled and whispered:
+
+"Den fur Gawd's sake lemme off here."
+
+The two men who got on at the station below stepped out before the negro,
+and as he alighted from the car, seized, tripped, and threw him to the
+ground. The engineer blew a sharp signal, and the train pulled on.
+
+In a minute Gus was bound and gagged.
+
+One of the men drew a whistle and blew twice. A single tremulous call like
+the cry of an owl answered. The swift beat of horses' feet followed, and
+four white-and-scarlet clansmen swept in a circle around the group.
+
+One of the strangers turned to the horseman with red-winged ensign on his
+cap, saluted, and said:
+
+"Here's your man, Night Hawk."
+
+"Thanks, gentlemen," was the answer. "Let us know when we can be of
+service to your county."
+
+The strangers sprang into their buggy and disappeared toward the North
+Carolina line.
+
+The clansmen blindfolded the negro, placed him on a horse, tied his legs
+securely, and his arms behind him to the ring in the saddle.
+
+The Night Hawk blew his whistle four sharp blasts, and his pickets
+galloped from their positions and joined him.
+
+Again the signal rang, and his men wheeled with the precision of trained
+cavalrymen into column formation three abreast, and rode toward Piedmont,
+the single black figure tied and gagged in the centre of the
+white-and-scarlet squadron.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE FIERY CROSS
+
+
+The clansmen with their prisoner skirted the village and halted in the
+woods on the river bank. The Night Hawk signalled for single file, and in
+a few minutes they stood against the cliff under Lover's Leap and saluted
+their chief, who sat his horse, awaiting their arrival.
+
+Pickets were placed in each direction on the narrow path by which the spot
+was approached, and one was sent to stand guard on the shelving rock
+above.
+
+Through the narrow crooked entrance they led Gus into the cave which had
+been the rendezvous of the Piedmont Den of the Clan since its formation.
+The meeting-place was a grand hall eighty feet deep, fifty feet wide, and
+more than forty feet in height, which had been carved out of the stone by
+the swift current of the river in ages past when its waters stood at a
+higher level.
+
+To-night it was lighted by candles placed on the ledges of the walls. In
+the centre, on a fallen boulder, sat the Grand Cyclops of the Den, the
+presiding officer of the township, his rank marked by scarlet stripes on
+the white-cloth spike of his cap. Around him stood twenty or more clansmen
+in their uniform, completely disguised. One among them wore a yellow sash,
+trimmed in gold, about his waist, and on his breast two yellow circles
+with red crosses interlapping, denoting his rank to be the Grand Dragon of
+the Realm, or Commander-in-Chief of the State.
+
+The Cyclops rose from his seat:
+
+"Let the Grand Turk remove his prisoner for a moment and place him in
+charge of the Grand Sentinel at the door, until summoned."
+
+The officer disappeared with Gus, and the Cyclops continued:
+
+"The Chaplain will open our Council with prayer."
+
+Solemnly every white-shrouded figure knelt on the ground, and the voice of
+the Rev. Hugh McAlpin, trembling with feeling, echoed through the cave:
+
+"Lord God of our Fathers, as in times past thy children, fleeing from the
+oppressor, found refuge beneath the earth until once more the sun of
+righteousness rose, so are we met to-night. As we wrestle with the powers
+of darkness now strangling our life, give to our souls to endure as seeing
+the invisible, and to our right arms the strength of the martyred dead of
+our people. Have mercy on the poor, the weak, the innocent and
+defenceless, and deliver us from the body of the Black Death. In a land of
+light and beauty and love our women are prisoners of danger and fear.
+While the heathen walks his native heath unharmed and unafraid, in this
+fair Christian Southland our sisters, wives, and daughters dare not stroll
+at twilight through the streets or step beyond the highway at noon. The
+terror of the twilight deepens with the darkness, and the stoutest heart
+grows sick with fear for the red message the morning bringeth. Forgive our
+sins--they are many--but hide not thy face from us, O God, for thou art
+our refuge!"
+
+As the last echoes of the prayer lingered and died in the vaulted roof,
+the clansmen rose and stood a moment in silence.
+
+Again the voice of the Cyclops broke the stillness:
+
+"Brethren, we are met to-night at the request of the Grand Dragon of the
+Realm, who has honoured us with his presence, to constitute a High Court
+for the trial of a case involving life. Are the Night Hawks ready to
+submit their evidence?"
+
+"We are ready," came the answer.
+
+"Then let the Grand Scribe read the objects of the Order on which your
+authority rests."
+
+The Scribe opened his Book of Record, "_The Prescript of the Order of the
+Invisible Empire_," and solemnly read:
+
+"To the lovers of law and order, peace and justice, and to the shades of
+the venerated dead, greeting:
+
+"This is an institution of Chivalry, Humanity, Mercy, and Patriotism:
+embodying in its genius and principles all that is chivalric in conduct,
+noble in sentiment, generous in manhood, and patriotic in purpose: its
+particular objects being,
+
+"First: To protect the weak, the innocent, and the defenceless from the
+indignities, wrongs, and outrages of the lawless, the violent, and the
+brutal; to relieve the injured and the oppressed: to succour the suffering
+and unfortunate, and especially the widows and the orphans of Confederate
+Soldiers.
+
+"Second: To protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, and
+all the laws passed in conformity thereto, and to protect the States and
+the people thereof from all invasion from any source whatever.
+
+"Third: To aid and assist in the execution of all Constitutional laws, and
+to protect the people from unlawful seizure, and from trial except by
+their peers in conformity to the laws of the land."
+
+"The Night Hawks will produce their evidence," said the Cyclops, "and the
+Grand Monk will conduct the case of the people against the negro Augustus
+Cæsar, the former slave of Dr. Richard Cameron."
+
+Dr. Cameron advanced and removed his cap. His snow-white hair and beard,
+ruddy face and dark-brown brilliant eyes made a strange picture in its
+weird surroundings, like an ancient alchemist ready to conduct some daring
+experiment in the problem of life.
+
+"I am here, brethren," he said, "to accuse the black brute about to appear
+of the crime of assault on a daughter of the South----"
+
+A murmur of thrilling surprise and horror swept the crowd of
+white-and-scarlet figures as with one common impulse they moved closer.
+
+"His feet have been measured and they exactly tally with the negro tracks
+found under the window of the Lenoir cottage. His flight to Columbia and
+return on the publication of their deaths as an accident is a confirmation
+of our case. I will not relate to you the scientific experiment which
+first fixed my suspicion of this man's guilt. My witness could not confirm
+it, and it might not be to you credible. But this negro is peculiarly
+sensitive to hypnotic influence. I propose to put him under this power
+to-night before you, and, if he is guilty, I can make him tell his
+confederates, describe and rehearse the crime itself."
+
+The Night Hawks led Gus before Doctor Cameron, untied his hands, removed
+the gag, and slipped the blindfold from his head.
+
+Under the doctor's rigid gaze the negro's knees struck together, and he
+collapsed into complete hypnosis, merely lifting his huge paws lamely as
+if to ward a blow.
+
+They seated him on the boulder from which the Cyclops rose, and Gus stared
+about the cave and grinned as if in a dream seeing nothing.
+
+The doctor recalled to him the day of the crime, and he began to talk to
+his three confederates, describing his plot in detail, now and then
+pausing and breaking into a fiendish laugh.
+
+Old McAllister, who had three lovely daughters at home, threw off his cap,
+sank to his knees, and buried his face in his hands, while a dozen of the
+white figures crowded closer, nervously gripping the revolvers which hung
+from their red belts.
+
+Doctor Cameron pushed them back and lifted his hand in warning.
+
+The negro began to live the crime with fearful realism--the journey past
+the hotel to make sure the victims had gone to their home; the visit to
+Aunt Cindy's cabin to find her there; lying in the field waiting for the
+last light of the village to go out; gloating with vulgar exultation over
+their plot, and planning other crimes to follow its success--how they
+crept along the shadows of the hedgerow of the lawn to avoid the
+moonlight, stood under the cedar, and through the open windows watched the
+mother and daughter laughing and talking within----
+
+"Min' what I tells you now--Tie de ole one, when I gib you de rope," said
+Gus in a whisper.
+
+"My God!" cried the agonized voice of the figure with the double
+cross--"that's what the piece of burnt rope in the fireplace meant!"
+
+Doctor Cameron again lifted his hand for silence.
+
+Now they burst into the room, and with the light of hell in his beady,
+yellow-splotched eyes, Gus gripped his imaginary revolver and growled:
+
+"Scream, an' I blow yer brains out!"
+
+In spite of Doctor Cameron's warning, the white-robed figures jostled and
+pressed closer----
+
+Gus rose to his feet and started across the cave as if to spring on the
+shivering figure of the girl, the clansmen with muttered groans, sobs, and
+curses falling back as he advanced. He still wore his full Captain's
+uniform, its heavy epaulets flashing their gold in the unearthly light,
+his beastly jaws half covering the gold braid on the collar. His thick
+lips were drawn upward in an ugly leer and his sinister bead eyes gleamed
+like a gorilla's. A single fierce leap and the black claws clutched the
+air slowly as if sinking into the soft white throat.
+
+Strong men began to cry like children.
+
+"Stop him! Stop him!" screamed a clansman, springing on the negro and
+grinding his heel into his big thick neck. A dozen more were on him in a
+moment, kicking, stamping, cursing, and crying like madmen.
+
+Doctor Cameron leaped forward and beat them off:
+
+"Men! Men! You must not kill him in this condition!"
+
+Some of the white figures had fallen prostrate on the ground, sobbing in a
+frenzy of uncontrollable emotion. Some were leaning against the walls,
+their faces buried in their arms.
+
+Again old McAllister was on his knees crying over and over again:
+
+"God have mercy on my people!"
+
+When at length quiet was restored, the negro was revived, and again bound,
+blindfolded, gagged, and thrown to the ground before the Grand Cyclops.
+
+A sudden inspiration flashed in Doctor Cameron's eyes. Turning to the
+figure with yellow sash and double cross he said:
+
+"Issue your orders and despatch your courier to-night with the old
+Scottish rite of the Fiery Cross. It will send a thrill of inspiration to
+every clansman in the hills."
+
+"Good--prepare it quickly!" was the answer.
+
+Doctor Cameron opened his medicine case, drew the silver drinking-cover
+from a flask, and passed out of the cave to the dark circle of blood still
+shining in the sand by the water's edge. He knelt and filled the cup half
+full of the crimson grains, and dipped it into the river. From a saddle he
+took the lightwood torch, returned within, and placed the cup on the
+boulder on which the Grand Cyclops had sat. He loosed the bundle of
+lightwood, took two pieces, tied them into the form of a cross, and laid
+it beside a lighted candle near the silver cup.
+
+The silent figures watched his every movement. He lifted the cup and
+said:
+
+"Brethren, I hold in my hand the water of your river bearing the red stain
+of the life of a Southern woman, a priceless sacrifice on the altar of
+outraged civilization. Hear the message of your chief."
+
+The tall figure with the yellow sash and double cross stepped before the
+strange altar, while the white forms of the clansmen gathered about him in
+a circle. He lifted his cap, and laid it on the boulder, and his men gazed
+on the flushed face of Ben Cameron, the Grand Dragon of the Realm.
+
+He stood for a moment silent, erect, a smouldering fierceness in his eyes,
+something cruel and yet magnetic in his alert bearing.
+
+He looked on the prostrate negro lying in his uniform at his feet, seized
+the cross, lighted the three upper ends and held it blazing in his hand,
+while, in a voice full of the fires of feeling, he said:
+
+"Men of the South, the time for words has passed, the hour for action has
+struck. The Grand Turk will execute this negro to-night and fling his body
+on the lawn of the black Lieutenant-Governor of the State."
+
+The Grand Turk bowed.
+
+"I ask for the swiftest messenger of this Den who can ride till dawn."
+
+The man whom Doctor Cameron had already chosen stepped forward:
+
+"Carry my summons to the Grand Titan of the adjoining province in North
+Carolina whom you will find at Hambright. Tell him the story of this crime
+and what you have seen and heard. Ask him to report to me here the second
+night from this, at eleven o'clock, with six Grand Giants from his
+adjoining counties, each accompanied by two hundred picked men. In olden
+times when the Chieftain of our people summoned the clan on an errand of
+life and death, the Fiery Cross, extinguished in sacrificial blood, was
+sent by swift courier from village to village. This call was never made in
+vain, nor will it be to-night, in the new world. Here, on this spot made
+holy ground by the blood of those we hold dearer than life, I raise the
+ancient symbol of an unconquered race of men----"
+
+High above his head in the darkness of the cave he lifted the blazing
+emblem----
+
+"The Fiery Cross of old Scotland's hills! I quench its flames in the
+sweetest blood that ever stained the sands of Time."
+
+He dipped its ends in the silver cup, extinguished the fire, and handed
+the charred symbol to the courier, who quickly disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
+
+
+The discovery of the Captain of the African Guards lying in his full
+uniform in Lynch's yard send a thrill of terror to the triumphant leagues.
+Across the breast of the body was pinned a scrap of paper on which was
+written in red ink the letters K. K. K. It was the first actual evidence
+of the existence of this dreaded order in Ulster county.
+
+The First Lieutenant of the Guards assumed command and held the full
+company in their armoury under arms day and night. Beneath his door he had
+found a notice which was also nailed on the courthouse. It appeared in the
+Piedmont _Eagle_ and in rapid succession in every newspaper not under
+negro influence in the State. It read as follows:
+
+                                         "HEADQUARTERS OF REALM NO 4.
+                                          "DREADFUL ERA, BLACK EPOCH,
+                                                       "HIDEOUS HOUR.
+
+  "GENERAL ORDER NO. I.
+
+  "The Negro Militia now organized in this State threatens the
+  extinction of civilization. They have avowed their purpose to make war
+  upon and exterminate the Ku Klux Klan, an organization which is now
+  the sole guardian of Society. All negroes are hereby given forty-eight
+  hours from the publication of this notice in their respective counties
+  to surrender their arms at the courthouse door. Those who refuse must
+  take the consequences.
+
+  "By order of the G. D. of Realm No. 4.
+
+  "By the Grand Scribe."
+
+The white people of Piedmont read this notice with a thrill of exultant
+joy. Men walked the streets with an erect bearing which said without
+words:
+
+"Stand out of the way."
+
+For the first time since the dawn of Black Rule negroes began to yield to
+white men and women the right of way on the streets.
+
+On the day following, the old Commoner sent for Phil.
+
+"What is the latest news?" he asked.
+
+"The town is in a fever of excitement--not over the discovery in Lynch's
+yard--but over the blacker rumour that Marion and her mother committed
+suicide to conceal an assault by this fiend."
+
+"A trumped-up lie," said the old man emphatically.
+
+"It's true, sir. I'll take Doctor Cameron's word for it."
+
+"You have just come from the Camerons?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Let it be your last visit. The Camerons are on the road to the gallows,
+father and son. Lynch informs me that the murder committed last night, and
+the insolent notice nailed on the courthouse door, could have come only
+from their brain. They are the hereditary leaders of these people. They
+alone would have the audacity to fling this crime into the teeth of the
+world and threaten worse. We are face to face with Southern barbarism.
+Every man now to his own standard! The house of Stoneman can have no part
+with midnight assassins."
+
+"Nor with black barbarians, father. It is a question of who possesses the
+right of life and death over the citizen, the organized virtue of the
+community, or its organized crime. You have mistaken for death the
+patience of a generous people. We call ourselves the champions of liberty.
+Yet for less than they have suffered, kings have lost their heads and
+empires perished before the wrath of freemen."
+
+"My boy, this is not a question for argument between us," said the father
+with stern emphasis. "This conspiracy of terror and assassination
+threatens to shatter my work to atoms. The election on which turns the
+destiny of Congress, and the success or failure of my life, is but a few
+weeks away. Unless this foul conspiracy is crushed, I am ruined, and the
+Nation falls again beneath the heel of a slaveholders' oligarchy."
+
+"Your nightmare of a slaveholders' oligarchy does not disturb me."
+
+"At least you will have the decency to break your affair with Margaret
+Cameron pending the issue of my struggle of life and death with her father
+and brother?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"Then I will do it for you."
+
+"I warn you, sir," Phil cried, with anger, "that if it comes to an issue
+of race against race, I am a white man. The ghastly tragedy of the
+condition of society here is something for which the people of the South
+are no longer responsible----"
+
+"I'll take the responsibility!" growled the old cynic.
+
+"Don't ask me to share it," said the younger man emphatically.
+
+The father winced, his lips trembled, and he answered brokenly:
+
+"My boy, this is the bitterest hour of my life that has had little to make
+it sweet. To hear such words from you is more than I can bear. I am an old
+man now--my sands are nearly run. But two human beings love me, and I love
+but two. On you and your sister I have lavished all the treasures of a
+maimed and strangled soul--and it has come to this! Read the notice which
+one of your friends thrust into the window of my bedroom last night."
+
+He handed Phil a piece of paper on which was written:
+
+  "The old club-footed beast who has sneaked into our town, pretending
+  to search for health, in reality the leader of the infernal Union
+  League, will be given forty-eight hours to vacate the house and rid
+  this community of his presence.
+
+                                                           "K. K. K."
+
+"Are you an officer of the Union League?" Phil asked in surprise.
+
+"I am its soul."
+
+"How could a Southerner discover this, if your own children didn't know
+it?"
+
+"By their spies who have joined the League."
+
+"And do the rank and file know the Black Pope at the head of the order?"
+
+"No, but high officials do."
+
+"Does Lynch?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then he is the scoundrel who placed that note in your room. It is a
+clumsy attempt to forge an order of the Klan. The white man does not live
+in this town capable of that act. I know these people."
+
+"My boy, you are bewitched by the smiles of a woman to deny your own flesh
+and blood."
+
+"Nonsense, father--you are possessed by an idea which has become an insane
+mania----"
+
+"Will you respect my wishes?" the old man broke in angrily.
+
+"I will not," was the clear answer. Phil turned and left the room, and the
+old man's massive head sank on his breast in helpless baffled rage and
+grief.
+
+He was more successful in his appeal to Elsie. He convinced her of the
+genuineness of the threat against him. The brutal reference to his
+lameness roused the girl's soul. When the old man, crushed by Phil's
+desertion, broke down the last reserve of his strange cold nature, tore
+his wounded heart open to her, cried in agony over his deformity, his
+lameness, and the anguish with which he saw the threatened ruin of his
+life-work, she threw her arms around his neck in a flood of tears and
+cried:
+
+"Hush, father, I will not desert you. I will never leave you, or wed
+without your blessing. If I find that my lover was in any way responsible
+for this insult, I'll tear his image out of my heart and never speak his
+name again!"
+
+She wrote a note to Ben, asking him to meet her at sundown on horseback at
+Lover's Leap.
+
+Ben was elated at the unexpected request. He was hungry for an hour with
+his sweetheart, whom he had not seen save for a moment since the storm of
+excitement broke following the discovery of the crime.
+
+He hastened through his work of ordering the movement of the Klan for the
+night, and determined to surprise Elsie by meeting her in his uniform of a
+Grand Dragon.
+
+Secure in her loyalty, he would deliberately thus put his life in her
+hands. Using the water of a brook in the woods for a mirror, he adjusted
+his yellow sash and pushed the two revolvers back under the cape out of
+sight, saying to himself with a laugh:
+
+"Betray me? Well, if she does, life would not be worth the living!"
+
+When Elsie had recovered from the first shock of surprise at the white
+horse and rider waiting for her under the shadows of the old beech, her
+surprise gave way to grief at the certainty of his guilt, and the
+greatness of his love in thus placing his life without a question in her
+hands.
+
+He tied the horses in the woods, and they sat down on the rustic.
+
+He removed his helmet cap, threw back the white cape showing the scarlet
+lining, and the two golden circles with their flaming crosses on his
+breast, with boyish pride. The costume was becoming to his slender
+graceful figure, and he knew it.
+
+"You see, sweetheart, I hold high rank in the Empire," he whispered.
+
+From beneath his cape he drew a long bundle which he unrolled. It was a
+triangular flag of brilliant yellow edged in scarlet. In the centre of the
+yellow ground was the figure of a huge black dragon with fiery red eyes
+and tongue. Around it was a Latin motto worked in scarlet: "_quod semper,
+quod ubique, quod ab omnibus_"--what always, what everywhere, what by all
+has been held to be true. "The battle-flag of the Klan," he said; "the
+standard of the Grand Dragon."
+
+Elsie seized his hand and kissed it, unable to speak.
+
+"Why so serious to-night?"
+
+"Do you love me very much?" she answered.
+
+"Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay his life at the feet of
+his beloved," he responded tenderly.
+
+"Yes, yes; I know--and that is why you are breaking my heart. When first I
+met you--it seems now ages and ages ago--I was a vain, self-willed, pert
+little thing----"
+
+"It's not so. I took you for an angel--you were one. You are one
+to-night."
+
+"Now," she went on slowly, "in what I have lived through you I have grown
+into an impassioned, serious, self-disciplined, bewildered woman. Your
+perfect trust to-night is the sweetest revelation that can come to a
+woman's soul and yet it brings to me unspeakable pain----"
+
+"For what?"
+
+"You are guilty of murder."
+
+Ben's figure stiffened.
+
+"The judge who pronounces sentence of death on a criminal outlawed by
+civilized society is not usually called a murderer, my dear."
+
+"And by whose authority are you a judge?"
+
+"By authority of the sovereign people who created the State of South
+Carolina. The criminals who claim to be our officers are usurpers placed
+there by the subversion of law."
+
+"Won't you give this all up for my sake?" she pleaded. "Believe me, you
+are in great danger."
+
+"Not so great as is the danger of my sister and mother and my
+sweetheart--it is a man's place to face danger," he gravely answered.
+
+"This violence can only lead to your ruin and shame----"
+
+"I am fighting the battle of a race on whose fate hangs the future of the
+South and the Nation. My ruin and shame will be of small account if they
+are saved," was the even answer.
+
+"Come, my dear," she pleaded tenderly, "you know that I have weighed the
+treasures of music and art and given them all for one clasp of your hand,
+one throb of your heart against mine. I should call you cruel did I not
+know you are infinitely tender. This is the only thing I have ever asked
+you to do for me----"
+
+"Desert my people! You must not ask of me this infamy, if you love me," he
+cried.
+
+"But, listen; this is wrong--this wild vengeance is a crime you are doing,
+however great the provocation. We cannot continue to love one another if
+you do this. Listen: I love you better than father, mother, life, or
+career--all my dreams I've lost in you. I've lived through eternity to-day
+with my father----"
+
+"You know me guiltless of the vulgar threat against him----"
+
+"Yes, and yet you are the leader of desperate men who might have done it.
+As I fought this battle to-day, I've lost you, lost myself, and sunk down
+to the depths of despair, and at the end rang the one weak cry of a
+woman's heart for her lover! Your frown can darken the brightest sky. For
+your sake I can give up all save the sense of right. I'll walk by your
+side in life--lead you gently and tenderly along the way of my dreams if I
+can, but if you go your way, it shall be mine; and I shall still be glad
+because you are there! See how humble I am--only you must not commit
+crime!"
+
+"Come, sweetheart, you must not use that word," he protested, with a touch
+of wounded pride.
+
+"You are a conspirator----"
+
+"I am a revolutionist."
+
+"You are committing murder!"
+
+"I am waging war."
+
+Elsie leaped to her feet in a sudden rush of anger and extended her hand:
+
+"Good-bye. I shall not see you again. I do not know you. You are still a
+stranger to me."
+
+He held her hand firmly.
+
+"We must not part in anger," he said slowly. "I have grave work to do
+before the day dawns. We may not see each other again."
+
+She led her horse to the seat quickly and without waiting for his
+assistance sprang into the saddle.
+
+"Do you not fear my betrayal of your secret?" she asked.
+
+He rode to her side, bent close, and whispered:
+
+"It's as safe as if locked in the heart of God."
+
+A little sob caught her voice, yet she said slowly in firm tones:
+
+"If another crime is committed in this county by your Klan, we will never
+see each other again."
+
+He escorted her to the edge of the town without a word, pressed her hand
+in silence, wheeled his horse, and disappeared on the road to the North
+Carolina line.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE BANNER OF THE DRAGON
+
+
+Ben Cameron rode rapidly to the rendezvous of the pickets who were to meet
+the coming squadrons.
+
+He returned home and ate a hearty meal. As he emerged from the
+dining-room, Phil seized him by the arm and led him under the big oak on
+the lawn:
+
+"Cameron, old boy, I'm in a lot of trouble. I've had a quarrel with my
+father, and your sister has broken me all up by returning my ring. I want
+a little excitement to ease my nerves. From Elsie's incoherent talk I
+judge you are in danger. If there's going to be a fight, let me in."
+
+Ben took his hand:
+
+"You're the kind of a man I'd like to have for a brother, and I'll help
+you in love--but as for war--it's not your fight. We don't need help."
+
+At ten o'clock Ben met the local Den at their rendezvous under the cliff,
+to prepare for the events of the night.
+
+The forty members present were drawn up before him in double rank of
+twenty each.
+
+"Brethren," he said to them solemnly, "I have called you to-night to take
+a step from which there can be no retreat. We are going to make a daring
+experiment of the utmost importance. If there is a faint heart among you,
+now is the time to retire----"
+
+"We are with you!" cried the men.
+
+"There are laws of our race, old before this Republic was born in the
+souls of white freemen. The fiat of fools has repealed on paper these
+laws. Your fathers who created this Nation were first Conspirators, then
+Revolutionists, now Patriots and Saints. I need to-night ten volunteers to
+lead the coming clansmen over this county and disarm every negro in it.
+The men from North Carolina cannot be recognized. Each of you must run
+this risk. Your absence from home to-night will be doubly dangerous for
+what will be done here at this negro armoury under my command. I ask of
+these ten men to ride their horses until dawn, even unto death, to ride
+for their God, their native land, and the womanhood of the South!
+
+"To each man who accepts this dangerous mission I offer for your bed the
+earth, for your canopy the sky, for your bread stones; and when the flash
+of bayonets shall fling into your face from the Square the challenge of
+martial law, the protection I promise you--is exile, imprisonment, and
+death! Let the ten men who accept these terms step forward four paces."
+
+With a single impulse the whole double line of forty white-and-scarlet
+figures moved quickly forward four steps!
+
+The leader shook hands with each man, his voice throbbing with emotion as
+he said:
+
+"Stand together like this, men, and armies will march and countermarch
+over the South in vain! We will save the life of our people."
+
+The ten guides selected by the Grand Dragon rode forward, and each led a
+division of one hundred men through the ten townships of the county and
+successfully disarmed every negro before day without the loss of a life.
+
+The remaining squadron of two hundred and fifty men from Hambright,
+accompanied by the Grand Titan in command of the Province of Western Hill
+Counties, were led by Ben Cameron into Piedmont as the waning moon rose
+between twelve and one o'clock.
+
+They marched past Stoneman's place on the way to the negro armoury, which
+stood on the opposite side of the street a block below.
+
+The wild music of the beat of a thousand hoofs on the cobblestones of the
+street waked every sleeper. The old Commoner hobbled to his window and
+watched them pass, his big hands fumbling nervously, and his soul stirred
+to its depths.
+
+The ghostlike shadowy columns moved slowly with the deliberate
+consciousness of power. The scarlet circles on their breasts could be
+easily seen when one turned toward the house, as could the big red letters
+K. K. K. on each horse's flank.
+
+In the centre of the line waved from a gold-tipped spear the battle-flag
+of the Klan. As they passed the bright lights burning at his gate, old
+Stoneman could see this standard plainly. The huge black dragon with
+flaming eyes and tongue seemed a living thing crawling over a
+scarlet-tipped yellow cloud.
+
+At the window above stood a little figure watching that banner of the
+Dragon pass with aching heart.
+
+Phil stood at another, smiling with admiration for their daring:
+
+"By George, it stirs the blood to see it! You can't crush men of that
+breed!"
+
+The watchers were not long in doubt as to what the raiders meant.
+
+They deployed quickly around the armoury. A whistle rang its shrill cry,
+and a volley of two hundred and fifty carbines and revolvers smashed every
+glass in the building. The sentinel had already given the alarm, and the
+drum was calling the startled negroes to their arms. They returned the
+volley twice, and for ten minutes were answered with the steady crack of
+two hundred and fifty guns. A white flag appeared at the door, and the
+firing ceased. The negroes laid down their arms and surrendered. All save
+three were allowed to go to their homes for the night and carry their
+wounded with them.
+
+The three confederates in the crime of their captain were bound and led
+away. In a few minutes the crash of a volley told their end.
+
+The little white figure rapped at Phil's door and placed a trembling hand
+on his arm:
+
+"Phil," she said softly, "please go to the hotel and stay until you know
+all that has happened--until you know the full list of those killed and
+wounded. I'll wait. You understand?"
+
+As he stooped and kissed her, he felt a hot tear roll down her cheek.
+
+"Yes, little Sis, I understand," he answered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE REIGN OF THE KLAN
+
+
+In quick succession every county followed the example of Ulster, and the
+arms furnished the negroes by the State and National governments were in
+the hands of the Klan. The League began to collapse in a panic of terror.
+
+A gale of chivalrous passion and high action, contagious and intoxicating,
+swept the white race. The moral, mental, and physical earthquake which
+followed the first assault on one of their daughters revealed the unity of
+the racial life of the people. Within the span of a week they had lived a
+century.
+
+The spirit of the South "like lightning had at last leaped forth, half
+startled at itself, its feet upon the ashes and the rags," its hands
+tight-gripped on the throat of tyrant, thug, and thief.
+
+It was the resistless movement of a race, not of any man or leader of men.
+The secret weapon with which they struck was the most terrible and
+efficient in human history--these pale hosts of white-and-scarlet
+horsemen! They struck shrouded in a mantle of darkness and terror. They
+struck where the power of resistance was weakest and the blow least
+suspected. Discovery or retaliation was impossible. Not a single disguise
+was ever penetrated. All was planned and ordered as by destiny. The
+accused was tried by secret tribunal, sentenced without a hearing,
+executed in the dead of night without warning, mercy, or appeal. The
+movements of the Klan were like clockwork, without a word, save the
+whistle of the Night Hawk, the crack of his revolver, and the hoofbeat of
+swift horses moving like figures in a dream, and vanishing in mists and
+shadows.
+
+The old club-footed Puritan, in his mad scheme of vengeance and party
+power, had overlooked the Covenanter, the backbone of the South. This man
+had just begun to fight! His race had defied the Crown of Great Britain a
+hundred years from the caves and wilds of Scotland and Ireland, taught the
+English people how to slay a king and build a commonwealth, and, driven
+into exile into the wilderness of America, led our Revolution, peopled the
+hills of the South, and conquered the West.
+
+As the young German patriots of 1812 had organized the great struggle for
+their liberties under the noses of the garrisons of Napoleon, so Ben
+Cameron had met the leaders of his race in Nashville, Tennessee, within
+the picket lines of thirty-five thousand hostile troops, and in the ruins
+of an old homestead discussed and adopted the ritual of the Invisible
+Empire.
+
+Within a few months this Empire overspread a territory larger than modern
+Europe. In the approaching election it was reaching out its daring white
+hands to tear the fruits of victory from twenty million victorious
+conquerors.
+
+The triumph at which they aimed was one of incredible grandeur. They had
+risen to snatch power out of defeat and death. Under their clan leadership
+the Southern people had suddenly developed the courage of the lion, the
+cunning of the fox, and the deathless faith of religious enthusiasts.
+
+Society was fused in the white heat of one sublime thought and beat with
+the pulse of the single will of the Grand Wizard of the Klan of Memphis.
+
+Women and children had eyes and saw not, ears and heard not. Over four
+thousand disguises for men and horses were made by the women of the South,
+and not one secret ever passed their lips!
+
+With magnificent audacity, infinite patience, and remorseless zeal, a
+conquered people were struggling to turn his own weapon against their
+conqueror, and beat his brains out with the bludgeon he had placed in the
+hands of their former slaves.
+
+Behind the tragedy of Reconstruction stood the remarkable man whose iron
+will alone had driven these terrible measures through the chaos of
+passion, corruption, and bewilderment which followed the first
+assassination of an American President. As he leaned on his window in this
+village of the South and watched in speechless rage the struggle at that
+negro armoury, he felt for the first time the foundations sinking beneath
+his feet. As he saw the black cowards surrender in terror, noted the
+indifference and cool defiance with which those white horsemen rode and
+shot, he knew that he had collided with the ultimate force which his whole
+scheme had overlooked.
+
+He turned on his big club foot from the window, clinched his fist and
+muttered:
+
+"But I'll hang that man for this deed if it's the last act of my life!"
+
+The morning brought dismay to the negro, the carpet-bagger, and the
+scallawag of Ulster. A peculiar freak of weather in the early morning
+added to their terror. The sun rose clear and bright except for a slight
+fog that floated from the river valley, increasing the roar of the falls.
+About nine o'clock a huge black shadow suddenly rushed over Piedmont from
+the west, and in a moment the town was shrouded in twilight. The cries of
+birds were hushed and chickens went to roost as in a total eclipse of the
+sun. Knots of people gathered on the streets and gazed uneasily at the
+threatening skies. Hundreds of negroes began to sing and shout and pray,
+while sensible people feared a cyclone or cloud-burst. A furious downpour
+of rain was swiftly followed by sunshine, and the negroes rose from their
+knees, shouting with joy to find the end of the world had after all been
+postponed.
+
+But that the end of their brief reign in a white man's land had come, but
+few of them doubted. The events of the night were sufficiently eloquent.
+The movement of the clouds in sympathy was unnecessary.
+
+Old Stoneman sent for Lynch, and found he had fled to Columbia. He sent
+for the only lawyer in town whom the Lieutenant-Governor had told him
+could be trusted.
+
+The lawyer was polite, but his refusal to undertake the prosecution of any
+alleged member of the Klan was emphatic.
+
+"I'm a sinful man, sir," he said with a smile. "Besides, I prefer to live,
+on general principles."
+
+"I'll pay you well," urged the old man, "and if you secure the conviction
+of Ben Cameron, the man we believe to be the head of this Klan, I'll give
+you ten thousand dollars."
+
+The lawyer was whittling on a piece of pine meditatively.
+
+"That's a big lot of money in these hard times. I'd like to own it, but
+I'm afraid it wouldn't be good at the bank on the other side. I prefer the
+green fields of South Carolina to those of Eden. My harp isn't in tune."
+
+Stoneman snorted in disgust:
+
+"Will you ask the Mayor to call to see me at once?"
+
+"We ain't got none," was the laconic answer.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Haven't you heard what happened to his Honour last night?"
+
+"No."
+
+"The Klan called to see him," went on the lawyer with a quizzical look "at
+3 A. M. Rather early for a visit of state. They gave him forty-nine lashes
+on his bare back, and persuaded him that the climate of Piedmont didn't
+agree with him. His Honour, Mayor Bizzel, left this morning with his negro
+wife and brood of mulatto children for his home, the slums of Cleveland,
+Ohio. We are deprived of his illustrious example, and he may not be a
+wiser man than when he came, but he's a much sadder one."
+
+Stoneman dismissed the even-tempered member of the bar, and wired Lynch to
+return immediately to Piedmont. He determined to conduct the prosecution
+of Ben Cameron in person. With the aid of the Lieutenant-Governor he
+succeeded in finding a man who would dare to swear out a warrant against
+him.
+
+As a preliminary skirmish he was charged with a violation of the statutory
+laws of the United States relating to Reconstruction and arraigned before
+a Commissioner.
+
+Against Elsie's agonizing protest, old Stoneman appeared at the courthouse
+to conduct the prosecution.
+
+In the absence of the United States Marshal, the warrant had been placed
+in the hands of the sheriff, returnable at ten o'clock on the morning
+fixed for the trial. The new sheriff of Ulster was no less a personage
+than Uncle Aleck, who had resigned his seat in the House to accept the
+more profitable one of High Sheriff of the County.
+
+There was a long delay in beginning the trial. At 10:30 not a single
+witness summoned had appeared, nor had the prisoner seen fit to honour the
+court with his presence.
+
+Old Stoneman sat fumbling his hands in nervous, sullen rage, while Phil
+looked on with amusement.
+
+"Send for the sheriff," he growled to the Commissioner.
+
+In a moment Aleck appeared bowing humbly and politely to every white man
+he passed. He bent halfway to the floor before the Commissioner and said:
+
+"Marse Ben be here in er minute, sah. He's er eatin' his breakfus'. I run
+erlong erhead."
+
+Stoneman's face was a thundercloud as he scrambled to his feet and glared
+at Aleck:
+
+"_Marse_ Ben? Did you say _Marse_ Ben? Who's he?"
+
+Aleck bowed low again.
+
+"De young Colonel, sah--Marse Ben Cameron."
+
+"And you the sheriff of this county trotted along in front to make the way
+smooth for your prisoner?"
+
+"Yessah!"
+
+"Is that the way you escort prisoners before a court?"
+
+"Dem kin' er prisoners--yessah."
+
+"Why didn't you walk beside him?"
+
+Aleck grinned from ear to ear and bowed very low:
+
+"He say sumfin' to me, sah!"
+
+"And what did he say?"
+
+Aleck shook his head and laughed:
+
+"I hates ter insinuate ter de cote, sah!"
+
+"What did he say to you?" thundered Stoneman.
+
+"He say--he say--ef I walk 'longside er him--he knock hell outen me,
+sah!"
+
+"Indeed."
+
+"Yessah, en I 'spec' he would," said Aleck insinuatingly. "La, he's a
+gemman, sah, he is! He tell me he come right on. He be here sho'."
+
+Stoneman whispered to Lynch, turned with a look of contempt to Aleck, and
+said:
+
+"Mr. Sheriff, you interest me. Will you be kind enough to explain to this
+court what has happened to you lately to so miraculously change your
+manners?"
+
+Aleck glanced around the room nervously.
+
+"I seed sumfin'--a vision, sah!"
+
+"A vision? Are you given to visions?"
+
+"Na-sah. Dis yere wuz er sho' 'nuff vision! I wuz er feelin' bad all day
+yistiddy. Soon in de mawnin', ez I wuz gwine 'long de road, I see a big
+black bird er settin' on de fence. He flop his wings, look right at me en
+say, 'Corpse! Corpse! Corpse!'"--Aleck's voice dropped to a whisper--"'en
+las' night de Ku Kluxes come ter see me, sah!"
+
+Stoneman lifted his beetling brows.
+
+"That's interesting. We are searching for information on that subject."
+
+"Yessah! Dey wuz Sperits, ridin' white hosses wid flowin' white robes, en
+big blood-red eyes! De hosses wuz twenty feet high, en some er de Sperits
+wuz higher dan dis cote-house! Dey wuz all bal' headed, 'cept right on de
+top whar dere wuz er straight blaze er fire shot up in de air ten foot
+high!"
+
+"What did they say to you?"
+
+"Dey say dat ef I didn't design de sheriff's office, go back ter farmin'
+en behave myself, dey had er job waitin' fer me in hell, sah. En shos' you
+born dey wuz right from dar!"
+
+"Of course!" sneered the old Commoner.
+
+"Yessah! Hit's des lak I tell yer. One ob 'em makes me fetch 'im er drink
+er water. I carry two bucketsful ter 'im 'fo' I git done, en I swar ter
+God he drink it all right dar 'fo' my eyes! He say hit wuz pow'ful dry
+down below, sah! En den I feel sumfin' bus' loose inside er me, en I
+disremember all dat come ter pass! I made er jump fer de ribber bank, en
+de next I knowed I wuz er pullin' fur de odder sho'. I'se er pow'ful good
+swimmer, sah, but I nebber git ercross er creek befo' ez quick ez I got
+ober de ribber las' night."
+
+"And you think of going back to farming?"
+
+"I done begin plowin' dis mornin', marster!"
+
+"_Don't_ you call me marster!" yelled the old man. "Are you the sheriff of
+this county?"
+
+Aleck laughed loudly.
+
+"Na-sah! Dat's er joke! I ain't nuttin' but er plain nigger--I wants
+peace, judge."
+
+"Evidently we need a new sheriff."
+
+"Dat's what I tell 'em, sah, dis mornin'--en I des flings mysef on de
+ignance er de cote!"
+
+Phil laughed aloud, and his father's colourless eyes began to spit cold
+poison.
+
+"About what time do you think your master, Colonel Cameron, will honour us
+with his presence?" he asked Aleck.
+
+Again the sheriff bowed.
+
+"He's er comin' right now, lak I tole yer--he's er gemman, sah."
+
+Ben walked briskly into the room and confronted the Commissioner.
+
+Without apparently noticing his presence, Stoneman said:
+
+"In the absence of witnesses we accept the discharge of this warrant,
+pending developments."
+
+Ben turned on his heel, pressed Phil's hand as he passed through the
+crowd, and disappeared.
+
+The old Commoner drove to the telegraph office and sent a message of more
+than a thousand words to the White House, a copy of which the operator
+delivered to Ben Cameron within an hour.
+
+President Grant next morning issued a proclamation declaring the nine
+Scotch-Irish hill counties of South Carolina in a state of insurrection,
+ordered an army corps of five thousand men to report there for duty,
+pending the further necessity of martial law and the suspension of the
+writ of _Habeas Corpus_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE COUNTER STROKE
+
+
+From the hour he had watched the capture of the armoury old Stoneman felt
+in the air a current against him which was electric, as if the dead had
+heard the cry of the clansmen's greeting, risen and rallied to their pale
+ranks.
+
+The daring campaign these men were waging took his breath. They were going
+not only to defeat his delegation to Congress, but send their own to take
+their seats, reinforced by the enormous power of a suppressed negro vote.
+The blow was so sublime in its audacity, he laughed in secret admiration
+while he raved and cursed.
+
+The army corps took possession of the hill counties, quartering from five
+to six hundred regulars at each courthouse; but the mischief was done. The
+State was on fire. The eighty thousand rifles with which the negroes had
+been armed were now in the hands of their foes. A white rifle-club was
+organized in every town, village, and hamlet. They attended the public
+meetings with their guns, drilled in front of the speakers' stands,
+yelled, hooted, hissed, cursed, and jeered at the orators who dared to
+champion or apologize for negro rule. At night the hoofbeat of squadrons
+of pale horsemen and the crack of their revolvers struck terror to the
+heart of every negro, carpet-bagger, and scallawag.
+
+There was a momentary lull in the excitement, which Stoneman mistook for
+fear, at the appearance of the troops. He had the Governor appoint a white
+sheriff, a young scallawag from the mountains who was a noted moonshiner
+and desperado. He arrested over a hundred leading men in the county,
+charged them with complicity in the killing of the three members of the
+African Guard, and instructed the judge and clerk of the court to refuse
+bail and commit them to jail under military guard.
+
+To his amazement the prisoners came into Piedmont armed and mounted. They
+paid no attention to the deputy sheriffs who were supposed to have them in
+charge. They deliberately formed in line under Ben Cameron's direction and
+he led them in a parade through the streets.
+
+The five hundred United States regulars who were camped on the river bank
+were Westerners. Ben led his squadron of armed prisoners in front of this
+camp and took them through the evolutions of cavalry with the precision of
+veterans. The soldiers dropped their games and gathered, laughing, to
+watch them. The drill ended with a double-rank charge at the river
+embankment. When they drew every horse on his haunches on the brink,
+firing a volley with a single crash, a wild cheer broke from the soldiers,
+and the officers rushed from their tents.
+
+Ben wheeled his men, galloped in front of the camp, drew them up at dress
+parade, and saluted. A low word of command from a trooper, and the
+Westerners quickly formed in ranks, returned the salute, and cheered. The
+officers rushed up, cursing, and drove the men back to their tents.
+
+The horsemen laughed, fired a volley in the air, cheered, and galloped
+back to the courthouse. The court was glad to get rid of them. There was
+no question raised over technicalities in making out bail-bonds. The clerk
+wrote the names of imaginary bondsmen as fast as his pen could fly, while
+the perspiration stood in beads on his red forehead.
+
+Another telegram from old Stoneman to the White House, and the Writ of
+_Habeas Corpus_ was suspended and Martial Law proclaimed.
+
+Enraged beyond measure at the salute from the troops, he had two companies
+of negro regulars sent from Columbia, and they camped in the Courthouse
+Square.
+
+He determined to make a desperate effort to crush the fierce spirit before
+which his forces were being driven like chaff. He induced Bizzel to return
+from Cleveland with his negro wife and children. He was escorted to the
+City Hall and reinstalled as Mayor by the full force of seven hundred
+troops, and a negro guard placed around his house. Stoneman had Lynch run
+an excursion from the Black Belt, and brought a thousand negroes to attend
+a final rally at Piedmont. He placarded the town with posters on which
+were printed the Civil Rights Bill and the proclamation of the President
+declaring Martial Law.
+
+Ben watched this day dawn with nervous dread. He had passed a sleepless
+night, riding in person to every Den of the Klan and issuing positive
+orders that no white man should come to Piedmont.
+
+A clash with the authority of the United States he had avoided from the
+first as a matter of principle. It was essential to his success that his
+men should commit no act of desperation which would imperil his plans.
+Above all, he wished to avoid a clash with old Stoneman personally.
+
+The arrival of the big excursion was the signal for a revival of negro
+insolence which had been planned. The men brought from the Eastern part of
+the State were selected for the purpose. They marched over the town
+yelling and singing. A crowd of them, half drunk, formed themselves three
+abreast and rushed the sidewalks, pushing every white man, woman, and
+child into the street.
+
+They met Phil on his way to the hotel and pushed him into the gutter. He
+said nothing, crossed the street, bought a revolver, loaded it and put it
+in his pocket. He was not popular with the negroes, and he had been shot
+at twice on his way from the mills at night. The whole affair of this
+rally, over which his father meant to preside, filled him with disgust,
+and he was in an ugly mood.
+
+Lynch's speech was bold, bitter, and incendiary, and at its close the
+drunken negro troopers from the local garrison began to slouch through the
+streets, two and two, looking for trouble.
+
+At the close of the speaking Stoneman called the officer in command of
+these troops, and said:
+
+"Major, I wish this rally to-day to be a proclamation of the supremacy of
+law, and the enforcement of the equality of every man under law. Your
+troops are entitled to the rights of white men. I understand the hotel
+table has been free to-day to the soldiers from the camp on the river.
+They are returning the courtesy extended to the criminals who drilled
+before them. Send two of your black troops down for dinner and see that it
+is served. I wish an example for the State."
+
+"It will be a dangerous performance, sir," the major protested.
+
+The old Commoner furrowed his brow.
+
+"Have you been instructed to act under my orders?"
+
+"I have, sir," said the officer, saluting.
+
+"Then do as I tell you," snapped Stoneman.
+
+Ben Cameron had kept indoors all day, and dined with fifty of the Western
+troopers whom he had identified as leading in the friendly demonstration
+to his men. Margaret, who had been busy with Mrs. Cameron entertaining
+these soldiers, was seated in the dining-room alone, eating her dinner,
+while Phil waited impatiently in the parlour.
+
+The guests had all gone when two big negro troopers, fighting drunk,
+walked into the hotel. They went to the water-cooler and drank
+ostentatiously, thrusting their thick lips coated with filth far into the
+cocoanut dipper, while a dirty hand grasped its surface.
+
+They pushed the dining-room door open and suddenly flopped down beside
+Margaret.
+
+She attempted to rise, and cried in rage:
+
+"How dare you, black brutes?"
+
+One of them threw his arm around her chair, thrust his face into hers, and
+said with a laugh:
+
+"Don't hurry, my beauty; stay and take dinner wid us!"
+
+Margaret again attempted to rise, and screamed, as Phil rushed into the
+room with drawn revolver. One of the negroes fired at him, missed, and the
+next moment dropped dead with a bullet through his heart.
+
+The other leaped across the table and through the open window.
+
+Margaret turned, confronting both Phil and Ben with revolvers in their
+hands, and fainted.
+
+Ben hurried Phil out the back door and persuaded him to fly.
+
+"Man, you must go! We must not have a riot here to-day. There's no telling
+what will happen. A disturbance now, and my men will swarm into town
+to-night. For God's sake go, until things are quiet!"
+
+"But I tell you I'll face it. I'm not afraid," said Phil quietly.
+
+"No, but I am," urged Ben. "These two hundred negroes are armed and drunk.
+Their officers may not be able to control them, and they may lay their
+hands on you--go--go!--go!--you must go! The train is due in fifteen
+minutes."
+
+He half lifted him on a horse tied behind the hotel, leaped on another,
+galloped to the flag-station two miles out of town, and put him on the
+north-bound train.
+
+"Stay in Charlotte until I wire for you," was Ben's parting injunction.
+
+He turned his horse's head for McAllister's, sent the two boys with all
+speed to the Cyclops of each of the ten township Dens with positive orders
+to disregard all wild rumours from Piedmont and keep every man out of town
+for two days.
+
+As he rode back he met a squad of mounted white regulars, who arrested
+him. The trooper's companion had sworn positively that he was the man who
+killed the negro.
+
+Within thirty minutes he was tried by drum-head court-martial and
+sentenced to be shot.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE SNARE OF THE FOWLER
+
+
+Sweet was the secret joy of old Stoneman over the fate of Ben Cameron. His
+death sentence would strike terror to his party, and his prompt execution,
+on the morning of the election but two days off, would turn the tide, save
+the State, and rescue his daughter from a hated alliance.
+
+He determined to bar the last way of escape. He knew the Klan would
+attempt a rescue, and stop at no means fair or foul short of civil war.
+Afraid of the loyalty of the white battalions quartered in Piedmont, he
+determined to leave immediately for Spartanburg, order an exchange of
+garrisons, and, when the death warrant was returned from headquarters,
+place its execution in the hands of a stranger, to whom appeal would be
+vain. He knew such an officer in the Spartanburg post, a man of fierce,
+vindictive nature, once court-martialed for cruelty, who hated every
+Southern white man with mortal venom. He would put him in command of the
+death watch.
+
+He hired a fast team and drove across the county with all speed, doubly
+anxious to get out of town before Elsie discovered the tragedy and
+appealed to him for mercy. Her tears and agony would be more than he could
+endure. She would stay indoors on account of the crowds, and he would not
+be missed until evening, when safely beyond her reach.
+
+When Phil arrived at Charlotte he found an immense crowd at the bulletin
+board in front of the _Observer_ office reading the account of the
+Piedmont tragedy. To his horror he learned of the arrest, trial, and
+sentence of Ben for the deed which he had done.
+
+He rushed to the office of the Division Superintendent of the Piedmont Air
+Line Railroad, revealed his identity, told him the true story of the
+tragedy, and begged for a special to carry him back. The Superintendent,
+who was a clansman, not only agreed, but within an hour had the special
+ready and two cars filled with stern-looking men to accompany him. Phil
+asked no questions. He knew what it meant. The train stopped at Gastonia
+and King's Mountain and took on a hundred more men.
+
+The special pulled into Piedmont at dusk. Phil ran to the Commandant and
+asked for an interview with Ben alone.
+
+"For what purpose, sir?" the officer asked.
+
+Phil resorted to a ruse, knowing the Commandant to be unaware of any
+difference of opinion between him and his father.
+
+"I hold a commission to obtain a confession from the prisoner which may
+save his life by destroying the Ku Klux Klan."
+
+He was admitted at once and the guard ordered to withdraw until the
+interview ended.
+
+Phil took Ben Cameron's place, exchanging hat and coat, and wrote a note
+to his father, telling in detail the truth, and asked for his immediate
+interference.
+
+"Deliver that, and I'll be out of here in two hours," he said, as he
+placed the note in Ben's hand.
+
+"I'll go straight to the house," was the quick reply.
+
+The exchange of the Southerner's slouch hat and Prince Albert for Phil's
+derby and short coat completely fooled the guard in the dim light. The men
+were as much alike as twins except the shade of difference in the colour
+of their hair. He passed the sentinel without a challenge, and walked
+rapidly toward Stoneman's house.
+
+On the way he was astonished to meet five hundred soldiers just arrived on
+a special from Spartanburg. Amazed at the unexpected movement, he turned
+and followed them back to the jail.
+
+They halted in front of the building he had just vacated, and their
+commander handed an official document to the officer in charge. The guard
+was changed and a cordon of soldiers encircled the prison.
+
+The Piedmont garrison had received notice by wire to move to Spartanburg,
+and Ben heard the beat of their drums already marching to board the
+special.
+
+He pressed forward and asked an interview with the Captain in command.
+
+The answer came with a brutal oath:
+
+"I have been warned against all the tricks and lies this town can hatch.
+The commander of the death watch will permit no interview, receive no
+visitors, hear no appeal, and allow no communication with the prisoner
+until after the execution. You can announce this to whom it may concern."
+
+"But you've got the wrong man. You have no right to execute him," said Ben
+excitedly.
+
+"I'll risk it," he answered, with a sneer.
+
+"Great God!" Ben cried beneath his breath. "The old fool has entrapped his
+son in the net he spread for me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+A RIDE FOR A LIFE
+
+
+When Ben Cameron failed to find either Elsie or her father at home, he
+hurried to the hotel, walking under the shadows of the trees to avoid
+recognition, though his resemblance to Phil would have enabled him to pass
+in his hat and coat unchallenged by any save the keenest observers.
+
+He found his mother's bedroom door ajar and saw Elsie within, sobbing in
+her arms. He paused, watched, and listened.
+
+Never had he seen his mother so beautiful--her face calm, intelligent, and
+vital, crowned with a halo of gray. She stood, flushed and dignified,
+softly smoothing the golden hair of the sobbing girl whom she had learned
+to love as her daughter. Her whole being reflected the years of homage she
+had inspired in husband, children, and neighbours. What a woman! She had
+made war inevitable, fought it to the bitter end; and in the despair of a
+negro reign of terror, still the prophetess and high priestess of a
+people, serene, undismayed, and defiant, she had fitted the uniform of a
+Grand Dragon on her last son, and sewed in secret day and night to equip
+his men. And through it all she was without affectation, her sweet
+motherly ways, gentle manner and bearing always resistless to those who
+came within her influence.
+
+"If he dies," cried the tearful voice, "I shall never forgive myself for
+not surrendering without reserve and fighting his battles with him!"
+
+"He is not dead yet," was the mother's firm answer. "Doctor Cameron is on
+Queen's back. Your lover's men will be riding to-night--these young
+dare-devil Knights of the South, with their life in their hands, a song on
+their lips, and the scorn of death in their souls!"
+
+"Then I'll ride with them," cried the girl, suddenly lifting her head.
+
+Ben stepped into the room, and with a cry of joy Elsie sprang into his
+arms. The mother stood silent until their lips met in the long tender kiss
+of the last surrender of perfect love.
+
+"How did you escape so soon?" she asked quietly, while Elsie's head still
+lay on his breast.
+
+"Phil shot the brute, and I rushed him out of town. He heard the news,
+returned on the special, took my place, and sent me for his father. The
+guard has been changed and it's impossible to see him, or communicate with
+the new Commandant----"
+
+Elsie started and turned pale.
+
+"And father has hidden to avoid me--merciful God--if Phil is
+executed----"
+
+"He isn't dead yet, either," said Ben, slipping his arm around her. "But
+we must save him without a clash or a drop of bloodshed, if possible. The
+fate of our people may hang on this. A battle with United States troops
+now might mean ruin for the South----"
+
+"But you will save him?" Elsie pleaded, looking into his face.
+
+"Yes--or I'll go down with him," was the steady answer.
+
+"Where is Margaret?" he asked.
+
+"Gone to McAllister's with a message from your father," Mrs. Cameron
+replied,
+
+"Tell her when she returns to keep a steady nerve. I'll save Phil. Send
+her to find her father. Tell him to hold five hundred men ready for action
+in the woods by the river and the rest in reserve two miles out of
+town----"
+
+"May I go with her?" Elsie asked eagerly.
+
+"No. I may need you," he said. "I am going to find the old statesman now,
+if I have to drag the bottomless pit. Wait here until I return."
+
+Ben reached the telegraph office unobserved, called the operator at
+Columbia, and got the Grand Giant of the county into the office. Within an
+hour he learned that the death warrant had been received and approved. It
+would be returned by a messenger to Piedmont on the morning train. He
+learned also that any appeal for a stay must be made through the
+Honourable Austin Stoneman, the secret representative of the Government
+clothed with this special power. The execution had been ordered the day of
+the election, to prevent the concentration of any large force bent on
+rescue.
+
+"The old fox!" Ben muttered.
+
+From the Grand Giant at Spartanburg he learned, after a delay of three
+hours, that Stoneman had left with a boy in a buggy, which he had hired
+for three days, and refused to tell his destination. He promised to follow
+and locate him as quickly as possible.
+
+It was the afternoon on the day following, during the progress of the
+election, before Ben received the message from Spartanburg that Stoneman
+had been found at the Old Red Tavern where the roads crossed from Piedmont
+to Hambright. It was only twelve miles away, just over the line on the
+North Carolina side.
+
+He walked with Margaret to the block where Queen stood saddled, watching
+with pride the quiet air of self-control with which she bore herself.
+
+"Now, my sister, you know the way to the tavern. Ride for your
+sweetheart's life. Bring the old man here by five o'clock, and we'll save
+Phil without a fight. Keep your nerve. The Commandant knows a regiment of
+mine is lying in the woods, and he's trying to slip out of town with his
+prisoner. I'll stand by my men ready for a battle at a moment's notice,
+but for God's sake get here in time to prevent it."
+
+She stooped from the saddle, pressed her brother's hand, kissed him, and
+galloped swiftly over the old Way of Romance she knew so well.
+
+On reaching the tavern, the landlord rudely denied that any such man was
+there, and left her standing dazed and struggling to keep back the tears.
+
+A boy of eight, with big wide friendly eyes, slipped into the room, looked
+up into her face tenderly, and said:
+
+"He's the biggest liar in North Carolina. The old man's right upstairs in
+the room over your head. Come on; I'll show you."
+
+Margaret snatched the child in her arms and kissed him.
+
+She knocked in vain for ten minutes. At last she heard his voice within:
+
+"Go away from that door!"
+
+"I'm from Piedmont, sir," cried Margaret, "with an important message from
+the Commandant for you."
+
+"Yes; I saw you come. I will not see you. I know everything, and I will
+hear no appeal."
+
+"But you cannot know of the exchange of men," pleaded the girl.
+
+"I tell you I know all about it. I will not interfere----"
+
+"But you could not be so cruel----"
+
+"The majesty of the law must be vindicated. The judge who consents to the
+execution of a murderer is not cruel. He is showing mercy to Society. Go,
+now; I will not hear you."
+
+In vain Margaret knocked, begged, pleaded, and sobbed.
+
+At last, in a fit of desperation, as she saw the sun sinking lower and the
+precious minutes flying, she hurled her magnificent figure against the
+door and smashed the cheap lock which held it.
+
+The old man sat at the other side of the room, looking out of the window,
+with his massive jaws locked in rage. The girl staggered to his side,
+knelt by his chair, placed her trembling hand on his arm, and begged:
+
+"For the love of Jesus, have mercy! Come with me quickly!"
+
+With a growl of anger, he said:
+
+"No!"
+
+[Illustration: MIRIAM COOPER AS MARGARET CAMERON.]
+
+"It was a mad impulse, in my defence as well as his own."
+
+"Impulse, yes! But back of it lay banked the fires of cruelty and race
+hatred! The Nation cannot live with such barbarism rotting its heart
+out."
+
+"But this is war, sir--a war of races, and this an accident of
+war--besides, his life had been attempted by them twice before."
+
+"So I've heard, and yet the negro always happens to be the victim----"
+
+Margaret leaped to her feet and glared at the old man for a moment in
+uncontrollable anger.
+
+"Are you a fiend?" she fairly shrieked.
+
+Old Stoneman merely pursed his lips.
+
+The girl came a step closer, and extended her hand again in mute appeal.
+
+"No, I was foolish. You are not cruel. I have heard of a hundred acts of
+charity you have done among our poor. Come, this is horrible! It is
+impossible! You cannot consent to the death of your son----"
+
+Stoneman looked up sharply:
+
+"Thank God, he hasn't married my daughter yet----"
+
+"Your daughter!" gasped Margaret. "I've told you it was Phil who killed
+the negro! He took Ben's place just before the guards were exchanged----"
+
+"Phil!--Phil?" shrieked the old man, staggering to his club foot and
+stumbling toward Margaret with dilated eyes and whitening face; "My
+boy--Phil?--why--why, are you crazy?--Phil? Did you say--_Phil_?"
+
+"Yes. Ben persuaded him to go to Charlotte until the excitement passed to
+avoid trouble. Come, come, sir, we must be quick! We may be too late!"
+
+She seized and pulled him toward the door.
+
+"Yes. Yes, we must hurry," he said in a laboured whisper, looking around
+dazed. "You will show me the way, my child--you love him--yes, we will go
+quickly--quickly! my boy--my boy!"
+
+Margaret called the landlord, and while they hitched Queen to the buggy,
+the old man stood helplessly wringing and fumbling his big ugly hands,
+muttering incoherently, and tugging at his collar as though about to
+suffocate.
+
+As they dashed away, old Stoneman laid a trembling hand on Margaret's
+arm.
+
+"Your horse is a good one, my child?"
+
+"Yes; the one Marion saved--the finest in the county."
+
+"And you know the way?"
+
+"Every foot of it. Phil and I have driven it often."
+
+"Yes, yes--you love him," he sighed, pressing her hand.
+
+Through the long reckless drive, as the mare flew over the rough hills,
+every nerve and muscle of her fine body at its utmost tension, the father
+sat silent. He braced his club foot against the iron bar of the dashboard
+and gripped the sides of the buggy to steady his feeble body. Margaret
+leaned forward intently watching the road to avoid an accident. The old
+man's strange colourless eyes stared straight in front, wide open, and
+seeing nothing, as if the soul had already fled through them into
+eternity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+"VENGEANCE IS MINE"
+
+
+It was dark long before Margaret and Stoneman reached Piedmont. A mile out
+of town a horse neighed in the woods, and, tired as she was, Queen threw
+her head high and answered the call.
+
+The old man did not notice it, but Margaret knew a squadron of
+white-and-scarlet horsemen stood in those woods, and her heart gave a
+bound of joy.
+
+As they passed the Presbyterian church, she saw through the open window
+her father standing at his Elder's seat leading in prayer. They were
+holding a watch service, asking God for victory in the eventful struggle
+of the day.
+
+Margaret attempted to drive straight to the jail, and a sentinel stopped
+them.
+
+"I am Stoneman, sir--the real commander of these troops," said the old
+man, with authority.
+
+"Orders is orders, and I don't take 'em from you," was the answer.
+
+"Then tell your commander that Mr. Stoneman has just arrived from
+Spartanburg and asks to see him at the hotel immediately."
+
+He hobbled into the parlour and waited in agony while Margaret tied the
+mare. Ben, her mother and father, and every servant were gone.
+
+In a few moments the second officer hurried to Stoneman, saluted, and
+said:
+
+"We've pulled it off in good shape, sir. They've tried to fool us with a
+dozen tricks, and a whole regiment has been lying in wait for us all day.
+But at dark the Captain outwitted them, took his prisoner with a squad of
+picked cavalry, and escaped their pickets. They've been gone an hour, and
+ought to be back with the body----"
+
+Old Stoneman sprang on him with the sudden fury of a madman, clutching at
+his throat.
+
+"If you've killed my son," he gasped--"go--go! Follow them with a swift
+messenger and stop them! It's a mistake--you're killing the wrong
+man--you're killing my boy--quick--my God, quick--don't stand there
+staring at me!"
+
+The officer rushed to obey his order as Margaret entered.
+
+The old man seized her arm, and said with laboured breath:
+
+"Your father, my child, ask him to come to me quickly."
+
+Margaret hurried to the church, and an usher called the doctor to the
+door.
+
+He read the question trembling on the girl's lips.
+
+"Nothing has happened yet, my daughter. Your brother has held a regiment
+of his men in readiness every moment of the day."
+
+"Mr. Stoneman is at the hotel and asks to see you immediately," she
+whispered.
+
+"God grant he may prevent bloodshed," said the father. "Go inside and stay
+with your mother."
+
+When Doctor Cameron entered the parlour Stoneman hobbled painfully to meet
+him, his face ashen, and his breath rattling in his throat as if his soul
+were being strangled.
+
+"You are my enemy, Doctor," he said, taking his hand, "but you are a pious
+man. I have been called an infidel--I am only a wilful sinner--I have
+slain my own son, unless God Almighty, who can raise the dead, shall save
+him! You are the man at whom I aimed the blow that has fallen on my head.
+I wish to confess to you and set myself right before God. He may hear my
+cry, and have mercy on me."
+
+He gasped for breath, sank into his seat, looked around, and said:
+
+"Will you close the door?"
+
+The doctor complied with his request and returned.
+
+"We all wear masks, Doctor," began the trembling voice. "Beneath lie the
+secrets of love and hate from which actions move. My will alone forged the
+chains of negro rule. Three forces moved me--party success, a vicious
+woman, and the quenchless desire for personal vengeance. When I first fell
+a victim to the wiles of the yellow vampire who kept my house, I dreamed
+of lifting her to my level. And when I felt myself sinking into the black
+abyss of animalism, I, whose soul had learned the pathway of the stars and
+held high converse with the great spirits of the ages----"
+
+He paused, looked up in terror, and whispered:
+
+"What's that noise? Isn't it the distant beat of horses' hoofs?"
+
+"No," said the doctor, listening; "it's the roar of the falls we hear,
+from a sudden change of the wind."
+
+"I'm done now," Stoneman went on, slowly fumbling his hands. "My life has
+been a failure. The dice of God are always loaded."
+
+His great head drooped lower, and he continued:
+
+"Mightiest of all was my motive of revenge. Fierce business and political
+feuds wrecked my iron mills. I shouldered their vast debts, and paid the
+last mortgage of a hundred thousand dollars the week before Lee invaded my
+State. I stood on the hill in the darkness, cried, raved, cursed, while I
+watched the troops lay those mills in ashes. Then and there I swore that
+I'd live until I ground the South beneath my heel! When I got back to my
+house they had buried a Confederate soldier in the field. I dug his body
+up, carted it to the woods, and threw it into a ditch----"
+
+The hand of the white-haired Southerner suddenly gripped old Stoneman's
+throat--and then relaxed. His head sank on his breast, and he cried in
+anguish:
+
+"God be merciful to me a sinner! Would I, too, seek revenge!"
+
+Stoneman looked at the doctor, dazed by his sudden onslaught and
+collapse.
+
+"Yes, he was somebody's boy down here," he went on, "who was loved perhaps
+even as I love--I don't blame you. See, in the inside pocket next to my
+heart I carry the pictures of Phil and Elsie taken from babyhood up, all
+set in a little book. They don't know this--nor does the world dream I've
+been so soft-hearted----"
+
+He drew a miniature album from his pocket and fumbled it aimlessly:
+
+"You know Phil was my first-born----"
+
+His voice broke, and he looked at the doctor helplessly.
+
+The Southerner slipped his arm around the old man's shoulders and began a
+tender and reverent prayer.
+
+The sudden thunder of a squad of cavalry with clanking sabres swept by the
+hotel toward the jail.
+
+Stoneman scrambled to his feet, staggered, and caught a chair.
+
+"It's no use," he groaned, "--they've come with his body--I'm slipping
+down--the lights are going out--I haven't a friend! It's dark and
+cold--I'm alone, and lost--God--has--hidden--His--face--from--me!"
+
+Voices were heard without, and the tramp of heavy feet on the steps.
+
+Stoneman clutched the doctor's arm in agony:
+
+"Stop them!--Stop them! Don't let them bring him in here!"
+
+He sank limp into the chair and stared at the door as it swung open and
+Phil walked in, with Ben and Elsie by his side, in full clansman
+disguise.
+
+The old man leaped to his feet and gasped:
+
+"The Klan!--The Klan! No? Yes! It's true--glory to God, they've saved my
+boy--Phil--Phil!"
+
+"How did you rescue him?" Doctor Cameron asked Ben.
+
+"Had a squadron lying in wait on every road that led from town. The
+Captain thought a thousand men were on him, and surrendered without a
+shot."
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+At twelve o'clock Ben stood at the gate with Elsie.
+
+"Your fate hangs in the balance of this election to-night," she said.
+"I'll share it with you, success or failure, life or death."
+
+"Success, not failure," he answered firmly. "The Grand Dragons of six
+States have already wired victory. Look at our lights on the mountains!
+They are ablaze--range on range our signals gleam until the Fiery Cross is
+lost among the stars!"
+
+"What does it mean?" she whispered.
+
+"That I am a successful revolutionist--that Civilization has been saved,
+and the South redeemed from shame."
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Clansman, by Thomas Dixon
+
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+"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+<title>
+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Clansman, by Thomas Dixon.
+</title>
+
+<style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
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+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Clansman, by Thomas Dixon
+
+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: The Clansman
+       An Historical Romance of the Ku Klux Klan
+
+Author: Thomas Dixon
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2008 [EBook #26240]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLANSMAN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.6em;'>THE CLANSMAN</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Illustrations Shown in
+This Edition Are Reproductions
+of Scenes from the
+Photo-Play of &#8220;The
+Birth of a Nation&#8221;
+Produced and Copyrighted
+by The Epoch Producing
+Corporation, to Whom the
+Publishers Desire to Express
+Their Thanks and
+Appreciation for Permission
+to Use the Pictures.</span></p>
+</div>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 390px; height: 577px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 390px;'>
+THE REIGN OF THE KLAN<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:2em; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0.5em;'>THE CLANSMAN</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.3em;'>AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.3em; margin-bottom:2em;'>OF THE KU KLUX KLAN</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1em;'>BY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>THOMAS DIXON</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>AUTHOR OF</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1em; margin-bottom:2em;'>THE LEOPARD&#8217;S SPOTS, COMRADES, ETC.</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTO-PLAY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1em;'>THE BIRTH OF A NATION</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>PRODUCED AND COPYRIGHTED BY</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>EPOCH PRODUCING CORPORATION</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-emb.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 72px; height: 73px;' /><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</p>
+<p>PUBLISHERS&nbsp;&nbsp;::&nbsp;&nbsp;NEW YORK</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-top:2em;'>Copyright, 1905</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:3em;'>By <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Thomas Dixon, Jr</span>.</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em;'>
+<p>TO THE MEMORY OF</p>
+<p>A SCOTCH-IRISH LEADER OF THE SOUTH</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1em;'>My Uncle, Colonel Leroy McAfee</p>
+<p>GRAND TITAN OF THE INVISIBLE EMPIRE</p>
+<p>KU KLUX KLAN</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>TO THE READER</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Clansman</span>&#8221; is the second book of a series of
+historical novels planned on the Race Conflict. &#8220;The
+Leopard&#8217;s Spots&#8221; was the statement in historical outline
+of the conditions from the enfranchisement of the negro
+to his disfranchisement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Clansman&#8221; develops the true story of the &#8220;Ku
+Klux Klan Conspiracy,&#8221; which overturned the Reconstruction
+régime.</p>
+<p>The organization was governed by the Grand Wizard
+Commander-in-Chief, who lived at Memphis, Tennessee.
+The Grand Dragon commanded a State, the Grand
+Titan a Congressional District, the Grand Giant a
+County, and the Grand Cyclops a Township Den. The
+twelve volumes of Government reports on the famous
+Klan refer chiefly to events which occurred after 1870,
+the date of its dissolution.</p>
+<p>The chaos of blind passion that followed Lincoln&#8217;s
+assassination is inconceivable to-day. The revolution
+it produced in our Government, and the bold attempt
+of Thaddeus Stevens to Africanize ten great States
+of the American Union, read now like tales from &#8220;The
+Arabian Nights.&#8221;</p>
+<p>I have sought to preserve in this romance both the
+letter and the spirit of this remarkable period. The
+men who enact the drama of fierce revenge into which
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_375' name='page_375'></a>375</span>
+I have woven a double love story are historical figures.
+I have merely changed their names without taking a
+liberty with any essential historic fact.</p>
+<p>In the darkest hour of the life of the South, when her
+wounded people lay helpless amid rags and ashes under
+the beak and talon of the Vulture, suddenly from the
+mists of the mountains appeared a white cloud the size
+of a man&#8217;s hand. It grew until its mantle of mystery
+enfolded the stricken earth and sky. An &#8220;Invisible
+Empire&#8221; had risen from the field of Death and challenged
+the Visible to mortal combat.</p>
+<p>How the young South, led by the reincarnated souls of
+the Clansmen of Old Scotland, went forth under this
+cover and against overwhelming odds, daring exile, imprisonment,
+and a felon&#8217;s death, and saved the life of a
+people, forms one of the most dramatic chapters in the
+history of the Aryan race.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Thomas Dixon</span>, Jr.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='la'>
+<p style=' margin-left:2em;'><i>Dixondale, Va.</i></p>
+<p style=' margin-left:4em;'><i>December 14, 1904.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>CONTENTS</p>
+</div>
+
+<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'><i>BOOK I</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'>THE ASSASSINATION</td></tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Bruised Reed&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_BRUISED_REED'>3</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Great Heart&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_GREAT_HEART'>19</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Man of War&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_THE_MAN_OF_WAR'>33</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>A Clash of Giants&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_A_CLASH_OF_GIANTS'>38</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Battle of Love&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_THE_BATTLE_OF_LOVE'>56</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Assassination&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_THE_ASSASSINATION'>61</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Frenzy of a Nation&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_THE_FRENZY_OF_A_NATION'>80</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'><i>BOOK II</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'>THE REVOLUTION</td></tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The First Lady of the Land&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_FIRST_LADY_OF_THE_LAND'>90</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>Sweethearts&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_SWEETHEARTS'>101</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Joy of Living&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_THE_JOY_OF_LIVING'>112</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>Hidden Treasure&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_HIDDEN_TREASURE'>115</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>Across the Chasm&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_ACROSS_THE_CHASM'>120</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Gauge of Battle&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_THE_GAUGE_OF_BATTLE'>131</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>A Woman Laughs&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_A_WOMAN_LAUGHS'>136</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>A Dream&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_A_DREAM'>148</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The King Amuses Himself&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_THE_KING_AMUSES_HIMSELF'>152</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>Tossed by the Storm&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_TOSSED_BY_THE_STORM'>162</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Supreme Test&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_SUPREME_TEST'>165</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>Triumph in Defeat&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_TRIUMPH_IN_DEFEAT'>179</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'><i>BOOK III</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'>THE REIGN OF TERROR</td></tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>A Fallen Slaveholder&#8217;s Mansion&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_A_FALLEN_SLAVEHOLDER_S_MANSION'>187</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Eyes of the Jungle&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_EYES_OF_THE_JUNGLE'>204</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>Augustus Cæsar&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_AUGUSTUS_CSAR'>209</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>At the Point of the Bayonet&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_AT_THE_POINT_OF_THE_BAYONET'>218</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>Forty Acres and a Mule&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_FORTY_ACRES_AND_A_MULE'>235</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>A Whisper in the Crowd&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_A_WHISPER_IN_THE_CROWD'>244</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>By the Light of a Torch&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_BY_THE_LIGHT_OF_A_TORCH'>254</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Riot in the Master&#8217;s Hall&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_THE_RIOT_IN_THE_MASTER_S_HALL'>263</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>At Lover&#8217;s Leap&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_AT_LOVER_S_LEAP'>276</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>A Night Hawk&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_A_NIGHT_HAWK'>284</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Beat of a Sparrow&#8217;s Wing&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_BEAT_OF_A_SPARROW_S_WING'>297</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>At the Dawn of Day&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_AT_THE_DAWN_OF_DAY'>305</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'><i>BOOK IV</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan='3' align='center'>THE KU KLUX KLAN</td></tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Hunt for the Animal&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_HUNT_FOR_THE_ANIMAL'>309</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Fiery Cross&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_FIERY_CROSS'>318</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Parting of the Ways&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_THE_PARTING_OF_THE_WAYS'>327</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Banner of the Dragon&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_THE_BANNER_OF_THE_DRAGON'>337</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Reign of the Klan&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_THE_REIGN_OF_THE_KLAN'>341</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Counter Stroke&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_THE_COUNTER_STROKE'>351</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>The Snare of the Fowler&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_THE_SNARE_OF_THE_FOWLER'>358</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>A Ride for a Life&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_A_RIDE_FOR_A_LIFE'>362</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left'>&#8220;Vengeance Is Mine&#8221;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX__VENGEANCE_IS_MINE'>369</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>LEADING CHARACTERS OF THE STORY</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p><i>Scene:</i> Washington and the Foothills of the Carolinas.</p>
+<p style='margin-bottom:2em;'><i>Time:</i> 1865 to 1870.</p>
+</div>
+
+<table summary='characters'>
+<tr><td>Ben Cameron</td><td align='right'>Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Margaret</td><td align='right'>His Sister</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Mrs. Cameron</td><td align='right'>His Mother</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Dr. Richard Cameron</td><td align='right'>His Father</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Hon. Austin Stoneman</td><td align='right'>Radical Leader of Congress</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Phil</td><td align='right'>His Son</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Elsie</td><td align='right'>His Daughter</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Marion Lenoir</td><td align='right'>Ben's First Love</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Mrs. Lenoir</td><td align='right'>Her Mother</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Jake</td><td align='right'>A Faithful Man</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Silas Lynch</td><td align='right'>A Negro Missionary</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Uncle Aleck</td><td align='right'>The Member from Ulster</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Cindy</td><td align='right'>His Wife</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Colonel Howle</td><td align='right'>A Carpet-bagger</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Augustus Cæsar</td><td align='right'>Of the Black Guard</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Charles Sumner</td><td align='right'>Of Massachusetts</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Gen. Benjamin F. Butler&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'>Of Fort Fisher</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Andrew Johnson</td><td align='right'>The President</td></tr>
+<tr><td>U. S. Grant</td><td align='right'>The Commanding General</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Abraham Lincoln</td><td align='right'>The Friend of the South</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.6em;'>THE CLANSMAN </p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span></div>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>Book I&mdash;The Assassination</p>
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='I_THE_BRUISED_REED' id='I_THE_BRUISED_REED'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Bruised Reed</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The fair girl who was playing a banjo and singing
+to the wounded soldiers suddenly stopped, and,
+turning to the surgeon, whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It sounds like a mob&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>With a common impulse they moved to the open window
+of the hospital and listened.</p>
+<p>On the soft spring air came the roar of excited thousands
+sweeping down the avenue from the Capitol toward
+the White House. Above all rang the cries of struggling
+newsboys screaming an &#8220;Extra.&#8221; One of them darted
+around the corner, his shrill voice quivering with excitement:</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Extra! Extra! Peace! Victory!</i>&#8221;</p>
+<p>Windows were suddenly raised, women thrust their
+heads out, and others rushed into the street and crowded
+around the boy, struggling to get his papers. He threw
+them right and left and snatched the money&mdash;no one
+asked for change. Without ceasing rose his cry:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Extra! Peace! Victory! Lee has surrendered!</i>&#8221;</p>
+<p>At last the end had come.</p>
+<p>The great North, with its millions of sturdy people
+and their exhaustless resources, had greeted the first
+shot on Sumter with contempt and incredulity. A few
+regiments went forward for a month&#8217;s outing to settle
+the trouble. The Thirteenth Brooklyn marched gayly
+Southward on a thirty days&#8217; jaunt, with pieces of rope
+conspicuously tied to their muskets with which to
+bring back each man a Southern prisoner to be led in
+a noose through the streets on their early triumphant
+return! It would be unkind to tell what became of
+those ropes when they suddenly started back home
+ahead of the scheduled time from the first battle of
+Bull Run.</p>
+<p>People from the South, equally wise, marched gayly
+North, to whip five Yankees each before breakfast, and
+encountered unforeseen difficulties.</p>
+<p>Both sides had things to learn, and learned them in a
+school whose logic is final&mdash;a four years&#8217; course in the
+University of Hell&mdash;the scream of eagles, the howl of
+wolves, the bay of tigers, the roar of lions&mdash;all locked
+in Death&#8217;s embrace, and each mad scene lit by the
+glare of volcanoes of savage passions!</p>
+<p>But the long agony was over.</p>
+<p>The city bells began to ring. The guns of the forts
+joined the chorus, and their deep steel throats roared
+until the earth trembled.</p>
+<p>Just across the street a mother who was reading the
+fateful news turned and suddenly clasped a boy to her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span>
+heart, crying for joy. The last draft of half a million had
+called for him.</p>
+<p>The Capital of the Nation was shaking off the long
+nightmare of horror and suspense. More than once the
+city had shivered at the mercy of those daring men in
+gray, and the reveille of their drums had startled even the
+President at his desk.</p>
+<p>Again and again had the destiny of the Republic hung
+on the turning of a hair, and in every crisis, Luck, Fate,
+God, had tipped the scale for the Union.</p>
+<p>A procession of more than five hundred Confederate
+deserters, who had crossed the lines in groups, swung into
+view, marching past the hospital, indifferent to the
+tumult. Only a nominal guard flanked them as they
+shuffled along, tired, ragged, and dirty. The gray in
+their uniforms was now the colour of clay. Some had on
+blue pantaloons, some, blue vests, others blue coats
+captured on the field of blood. Some had pieces of
+carpet, and others old bags around their shoulders.
+They had been passing thus for weeks. Nobody paid any
+attention to them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;One of the secrets of the surrender!&#8221; exclaimed Doctor
+Barnes. &#8220;Mr. Lincoln has been at the front for the
+past weeks with offers of peace and mercy, if they would
+lay down their arms. The great soul of the President,
+even the genius of Lee could not resist. His smile began
+to melt those gray ranks as the sun is warming the earth
+to-day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are a great admirer of the President,&#8221; said the
+girl, with a curious smile.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Miss Elsie, and so are all who know him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She turned from the window without reply. A shadow
+crossed her face as she looked past the long rows of cots,
+on which rested the men in blue, until her eyes found one
+on which lay, alone among his enemies, a young Confederate
+officer.</p>
+<p>The surgeon turned with her toward the man.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will he live?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, only to be hung.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;For what?&#8221; she cried.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sentenced by court-martial as a guerilla. It&#8217;s a lie,
+but there&#8217;s some powerful hand back of it&mdash;some mysterious
+influence in high authority. The boy wasn&#8217;t fully
+conscious at the trial.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must appeal to Mr. Stanton.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;As well appeal to the devil. They say the order
+came from his office.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A boy of nineteen!&#8221; she exclaimed. &#8220;It&#8217;s a shame.
+I&#8217;m looking for his mother. You told me to telegraph to
+Richmond for her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I&#8217;ll never forget his cries that night, so utterly
+pitiful and childlike. I&#8217;ve heard many a cry of pain, but
+in all my life nothing so heartbreaking as that boy in
+fevered delirium talking to his mother. His voice is one
+of peculiar tenderness, penetrating and musical. It goes
+quivering into your soul, and compels you to listen until
+you swear it&#8217;s your brother or sweetheart or sister or
+mother calling you. You should have seen him the
+day he fell. God of mercies, the pity and the glory
+of it!&#8221;</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-006.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 532px; height: 390px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 532px;'>
+&#8220;YOUR BROTHER SPRANG FORWARD AND CAUGHT HIM IN HIS ARMS.&#8221;<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span></div>
+<p>&#8220;Phil wrote me that he was a hero and asked me to
+look after him. Were you there?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, with the battery your brother was supporting.
+He was the colonel of a shattered rebel regiment lying
+just in front of us before Petersburg. Richmond was
+doomed, resistance was madness, but there they were,
+ragged and half starved, a handful of men, not more than
+four hundred, but their bayonets gleamed and flashed in
+the sunlight. In the face of a murderous fire he charged
+and actually drove our men out of an entrenchment. We
+concentrated our guns on him as he crouched behind this
+earthwork. Our own men lay outside in scores, dead,
+dying, and wounded. When the fire slacked, we could
+hear their cries for water.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Suddenly this boy sprang on the breastwork. He
+was dressed in a new gray colonel&#8217;s uniform that mother
+of his, in the pride of her soul, had sent him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He was a handsome figure&mdash;tall, slender, straight, a
+gorgeous yellow sash tasselled with gold around his
+waist, his sword flashing in the sun, his slouch hat cocked
+on one side and an eagle&#8217;s feather in it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We thought he was going to lead another charge, but
+just as the battery was making ready to fire he deliberately
+walked down the embankment in a hail of musketry
+and began to give water to our wounded men.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Every gun ceased firing, and we watched him. He
+walked back to the trench, his naked sword flashed
+suddenly above that eagle&#8217;s feather, and his grizzled
+ragamuffins sprang forward and charged us like so many
+demons.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;There were not more than three hundred of them now,
+but on they came, giving that hellish rebel yell at every
+jump&mdash;the cry of the hunter from the hilltop at the sight
+of his game! All Southern men are hunters, and that
+cry was transformed in war into something unearthly
+when it came from a hundred throats in chorus and the
+game was human.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course, it was madness. We blew them down
+that hill like chaff before a hurricane. When the last man
+had staggered back or fallen, on came this boy alone,
+carrying the colours he had snatched from a falling
+soldier, as if he were leading a million men to victory.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A bullet had blown his hat from his head, and we
+could see the blood streaming down the side of his face.
+He charged straight into the jaws of one of our guns.
+And then, with a smile on his lips and a dare to death in
+his big brown eyes, he rammed that flag into the cannon&#8217;s
+mouth, reeled, and fell! A cheer broke from our men.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your brother sprang forward and caught him in his
+arms, and as we bent over the unconscious form, he exclaimed:
+&#8216;My God, doctor, look at him! He is so much
+like me I feel as if I had been shot myself!&#8217; They were
+as much alike as twins&mdash;only his hair was darker. I
+tell you, Miss Elsie, it&#8217;s a sin to kill men like that. One
+such man is worth more to this nation than every negro
+that ever set his flat foot on this continent!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl&#8217;s eyes had grown dim as she listened to the
+story.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will appeal to the President,&#8221; she said firmly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s the only chance. And just now he is under
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>
+tremendous pressure. His friendly order to the Virginia
+Legislature to return to Richmond, Stanton forced him
+to cancel. A master hand has organized a conspiracy in
+Congress to crush the President. They curse his policy
+of mercy as imbecility, and swear to make the South a
+second Poland. Their watchwords are vengeance and
+confiscation. Four fifths of his party in Congress are
+in this plot. The President has less than a dozen real
+friends in either House on whom he can depend. They
+say that Stanton is to be given a free hand, and that the
+gallows will be busy. This cancelled order of the President
+looks like it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll try my hand with Mr. Stanton,&#8221; she said with
+slow emphasis.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good luck, Little Sister&mdash;let me know if I can help,&#8221;
+the surgeon answered cheerily as he passed on his round
+of work.</p>
+<p>Elsie Stoneman took her seat beside the cot of the
+wounded Confederate and began softly to sing and play.</p>
+<p>A little farther along the same row a soldier was dying,
+a faint choking just audible in his throat. An attendant
+sat beside him and would not leave till the last. The
+ordinary chat and hum of the ward went on indifferent
+to peace, victory, life, or death. Before the finality of
+the hospital all other events of earth fade. Some were
+playing cards or checkers, some laughing and joking, and
+others reading.</p>
+<p>At the first soft note from the singer the games ceased,
+and the reader put down his book.</p>
+<p>The banjo had come to Washington with the negroes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span>
+following the wake of the army. She had laid aside her
+guitar and learned to play all the stirring camp songs of
+the South. Her voice was low, soothing, and tender. It
+held every silent listener in a spell.</p>
+<p>As she played and sang the songs the wounded man
+loved, her eyes lingered in pity on his sun-bronzed face,
+pinched and drawn with fever. He was sleeping the
+stupid sleep that gives no rest. She could count the
+irregular pounding of his heart in the throb of the big
+vein on his neck. His lips were dry and burnt, and the
+little boyish moustache curled upward from the row of
+white teeth as if scorched by the fiery breath.</p>
+<p>He began to talk in flighty sentences, and she listened&mdash;his
+mother&mdash;his sister&mdash;and yes, she was sure as she bent
+nearer&mdash;a little sweetheart who lived next door. They
+all had sweethearts&mdash;these Southern boys. Again he
+was teasing his dog&mdash;and then back in battle.</p>
+<p>At length he opened his eyes, great dark-brown eyes,
+unnaturally bright, with a strange yearning look in their
+depths as they rested on Elsie. He tried to smile and
+feebly said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Here&#8217;s&mdash;a&mdash;fly&mdash;on&mdash;my&mdash;left&mdash;ear&mdash;my&mdash;guns&mdash;can&#8217;t&mdash;somehow&mdash;
+reach&mdash;him&mdash;won&#8217;t&mdash;you&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>She sprang forward and brushed the fly away.</p>
+<p>Again he opened his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Excuse&mdash;me&mdash;for&mdash;asking&mdash;but am I alive?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed,&#8221; was the cheerful answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, now, then, is this me, or is it not me, or has a
+cannon shot me, or has the devil got me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s you. The cannon didn&#8217;t shoot you, but three
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span>
+muskets did. The devil hasn&#8217;t got you yet, but he will
+unless you&#8217;re good.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll be good if you won&#8217;t leave me&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie turned her head away smiling, and he went on
+slowly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I&#8217;m dead, I know. I&#8217;m sleeping on a cot with a
+canopy over it. I ain&#8217;t hungry any more, and an angel
+has been hovering over me playing on a harp of gold&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only a little Yankee girl playing the banjo.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can&#8217;t fool me&mdash;I&#8217;m in heaven.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re in the hospital.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Funny hospital&mdash;look at that harp and that big
+trumpet hanging close by it&mdash;that&#8217;s Gabriel&#8217;s trumpet&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; she laughed. &#8220;This is the Patent Office building,
+that covers two blocks, now a temporary hospital. There
+are seventy thousand wounded soldiers in town, and more
+coming on every train. The thirty-five hospitals are
+overcrowded.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He closed his eyes a moment in silence, and then spoke
+with a feeble tremor:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid you don&#8217;t know who I am&mdash;I can&#8217;t impose
+on you&mdash;I&#8217;m a rebel&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know. You are Colonel Ben Cameron. It
+makes no difference to me now which side you fought on.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;m in heaven&mdash;been dead a long time. I can
+prove it, if you&#8217;ll play again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What shall I play?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;First, &#8216;<i>O Jonny Booker Help dis Nigger</i>.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>She played and sang it beautifully.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, &#8216;<i>Wake Up in the Morning</i>.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Again he listened with wide, staring eyes that saw
+nothing except visions within.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, then, &#8216;<i>The Ole Gray Hoss</i>.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>As the last notes died away he tried to smile again:</p>
+<p>&#8220;One more&mdash;&#8216;<i>Hard Times an&#8217; Wuss er Comin&#8216;</i>.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>With deft, sure touch and soft negro dialect she sang it
+through.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, didn&#8217;t I tell you that you couldn&#8217;t fool me? No
+Yankee girl could play and sing these songs, I&#8217;m in
+heaven, and you&#8217;re an angel.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aren&#8217;t you ashamed of yourself to flirt with me, with
+one foot in the grave?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s the time to get on good terms with the angels&mdash;but
+I&#8217;m done dead&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie laughed in spite of herself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know it,&#8221; he went on, &#8220;because you have shining
+golden hair and amber eyes instead of blue ones. I never
+saw a girl in my life before with such eyes and hair.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you&#8217;re young yet.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never&mdash;was&mdash;such&mdash;a&mdash;girl&mdash;on&mdash;earth&mdash;you&#8217;re&mdash;an&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>She lifted her finger in warning, and his eyelids drooped
+In exhausted stupor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You musn&#8217;t talk any more,&#8221; she whispered, shaking
+her head.</p>
+<p>A commotion at the door caused Elsie to turn from the
+cot. A sweet motherly woman of fifty, in an old faded
+black dress, was pleading with the guard to be allowed
+to pass.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Can&#8217;t do it, m&#8217;um. It&#8217;s agin the rules.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I must go in. I&#8217;ve tramped for four days through
+a wilderness of hospitals, and I know he must be here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Special orders, m&#8217;um&mdash;wounded rebels in here that
+belong in prison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, young man,&#8221; said the pleading voice.
+&#8220;My baby boy&#8217;s in this place, wounded and about to die.
+I&#8217;m going in there. You can shoot me if you like, or you
+can turn your head the other way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She stepped quickly past the soldier, who merely stared
+with dim eyes out the door and saw nothing.</p>
+<p>She stood for a moment with a look of helpless bewilderment.
+The vast area of the second story of the great
+monolithic pile was crowded with rows of sick, wounded,
+and dying men&mdash;a strange, solemn, and curious sight.
+Against the walls were ponderous glass cases, filled
+with models of every kind of invention the genius of man
+had dreamed. Between these cases were deep lateral
+openings, eight feet wide, crowded with the sick, and long
+rows of them were stretched through the centre of the
+hall. A gallery ran around above the cases, and this was
+filled with cots. The clatter of the feet of passing surgeons
+and nurses over the marble floor added to the weird
+impression.</p>
+<p>Elsie saw the look of helpless appeal in the mother&#8217;s
+face and hurried forward to meet her:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is this Mrs. Cameron, of South Carolina?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The trembling figure in black grasped her hand eagerly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes, my dear, and I&#8217;m looking for my boy, who
+is wounded unto death. Can you help me?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought I recognized you from a miniature I&#8217;ve seen,&#8221;
+she answered softly. &#8220;I&#8217;ll lead you direct to his cot.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, thank you!&#8221; came the low reply.</p>
+<p>In a moment she was beside him, and Elsie walked
+away to the open window through which came the chirp
+of sparrows from the lilac bushes in full bloom below.</p>
+<p>The mother threw one look of infinite tenderness
+on the drawn face, and her hands suddenly clasped in
+prayer:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thank Thee, Lord Jesus, for this hour! Thou hast
+heard the cry of my soul and led my feet!&#8221; She gently
+knelt, kissed the hot lips, smoothed the dark tangled hair
+back from his forehead, and her hand rested over his eyes.</p>
+<p>A faint flush tinged his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s you, Mamma&mdash;I&mdash;know&mdash;you&mdash;that&#8217;s&mdash;your&mdash;hand&mdash;or&mdash;else&mdash;it&#8217;s&mdash;God&#8217;s!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She slipped her arms about him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My hero, my darling, my baby!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll get well now, Mamma, never fear. You see, I had
+whipped them that day as I had many a time before. I
+don&#8217;t know how it happened&mdash;my men seemed all to go
+down at once. You know&mdash;I couldn&#8217;t surrender in
+that new uniform of a colonel you sent me&mdash;we made a
+gallant fight, and&mdash;now&mdash;I&#8217;m&mdash;just&mdash;a&mdash;little&mdash;tired&mdash;but
+you are here, and it&#8217;s all right.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes, dear. It&#8217;s all over now. General Lee has
+surrendered, and when you are better I&#8217;ll take you home,
+where the sunshine and flowers will give you strength
+again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How&#8217;s my little sis?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Hunting in another part of the city for you. She&#8217;s
+grown so tall and stately you&#8217;ll hardly know her. Your
+papa is at home, and don&#8217;t know yet that you are
+wounded.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And my sweetheart, Marion Lenoir?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The most beautiful little girl in Piedmont&mdash;as sweet
+and mischievous as ever. Mr. Lenoir is very ill, but
+he has written a glorious poem about one of your charges.
+I&#8217;ll show it to you to-morrow. He is our greatest poet.
+The South worships him. Marion sent her love to you
+and a kiss for the young hero of Piedmont. I&#8217;ll give it
+to you now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She bent again and kissed him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And my dogs?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;General Sherman left them, at least.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;m glad of that&mdash;my mare all right?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but we had a time to save her&mdash;Jake hid her in
+the woods till the army passed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bully for Jake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know what we should have done without him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Old Aleck still at home and getting drunk as usual?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, he ran away with the army and persuaded every
+negro on the Lenoir place to go, except his wife, Aunt
+Cindy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The old rascal, when Mrs. Lenoir&#8217;s mother saved him
+from burning to death when he was a boy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and he told the Yankees those fire scars were
+made with the lash, and led a squad to the house one
+night to burn the barns. Jake headed them off and told
+on him. The soldiers were so mad they strung him up
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span>
+and thrashed him nearly to death. We haven&#8217;t seen him
+since.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;ll take care of you, Mamma, when I get home.
+Of course I&#8217;ll get well. It&#8217;s absurd to die at nineteen.
+You know I never believed the bullet had been moulded
+that could hit me. In three years of battle I lived a
+charmed life and never got a scratch.&#8221;</p>
+<p>His voice had grown feeble and laboured, and his face
+flushed. His mother placed her hand on his lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just one more,&#8221; he pleaded feebly. &#8220;Did you see the
+little angel who has been playing and singing for me?
+You must thank her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I see her coming now. I must go and tell
+Margaret, and we will get a pass and come every day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She kissed him, and went to meet Elsie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you are the dear girl who has been playing and
+singing for my boy, a wounded stranger here alone among
+his foes?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and for all the others, too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cameron seized both of her hands and looked at
+her tenderly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will let me kiss you? I shall always love you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She pressed Elsie to her heart. In spite of the girl&#8217;s
+reserve, a sob caught her breath at the touch of the warm
+lips. Her own mother had died when she was a baby,
+and a shy, hungry heart, long hidden from the world,
+leaped in tenderness and pain to meet that embrace.</p>
+<p>Elsie walked with her to the door, wondering how the
+terrible truth of her boy&#8217;s doom could be told.</p>
+<p>She tried to speak, looked into Mrs. Cameron&#8217;s face,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>
+radiant with grateful joy, and the words froze on her lips.
+She decided to walk a little way with her. But the task
+became all the harder.</p>
+<p>At the corner she stopped abruptly and bade her good-bye:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must leave you now, Mrs. Cameron. I will call for
+you in the morning and help you secure the passes to
+enter the hospital.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The mother stroked the girl&#8217;s hand and held it lingeringly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How good you are,&#8221; she said softly. &#8220;And you
+have not told me your name?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie hesitated and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s a little secret. They call me Sister Elsie, the
+Banjo Maid, in the hospitals. My father is a man of
+distinction. I should be annoyed if my full name were
+known. I&#8217;m Elsie Stoneman. My father is the leader
+of the House. I live with my aunt.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; she whispered, pressing her hand.</p>
+<p>Elsie watched the dark figure disappear in the crowd
+with a strange tumult of feeling.</p>
+<p>The mention of her father had revived the suspicion
+that he was the mysterious power threatening the policy
+of the President and planning a reign of terror for the
+South. Next to the President, he was the most powerful
+man in Washington, and the unrelenting foe of Mr.
+Lincoln, although the leader of his party in Congress,
+which he ruled with a rod of iron. He was a man of
+fierce and terrible resentments. And yet, in his personal
+life, to those he knew, he was generous and considerate.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span>
+&#8220;Old Austin Stoneman, the Great Commoner,&#8221; he was
+called, and his name was one to conjure with in the world
+of deeds. To this fair girl he was the noblest Roman of
+them all, her ideal of greatness. He was an indulgent
+father, and while not demonstrative, loved his children
+with passionate devotion.</p>
+<p>She paused and looked up at the huge marble columns
+that seemed each a sentinel beckoning her to return
+within to the cot that held a wounded foe. The twilight
+had deepened, and the soft light of the rising moon had
+clothed the solemn majesty of the building with shimmering
+tenderness and beauty.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why should I be distressed for one, an enemy, among
+these thousands who have fallen?&#8221; she asked herself.
+Every detail of the scene she had passed through with
+him and his mother stood out in her soul with startling
+distinctness&mdash;and the horror of his doom cut with the
+deep sense of personal anguish.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He shall not die,&#8221; she said, with sudden resolution.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll take his mother to the President. He can&#8217;t resist
+her. I&#8217;ll send for Phil to help me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She hurried to the telegraph office and summoned her
+brother.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='II_THE_GREAT_HEART' id='II_THE_GREAT_HEART'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Great Heart</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The next morning, when Elsie reached the
+obscure boarding-house at which Mrs. Cameron
+stopped, the mother had gone to the market to
+buy a bunch of roses to place beside her boy&#8217;s cot.</p>
+<p>As Elsie awaited her return, the practical little Yankee
+maid thought with a pang of the tenderness and folly of
+such people. She knew this mother had scarcely enough
+to eat, but to her bread was of small importance, flowers
+necessary to life. After all, it was very sweet, this foolishness
+of these Southern people, and it somehow made her
+homesick.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How can I tell her!&#8221; she sighed. &#8220;And yet I
+must.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She had only waited a moment when Mrs. Cameron
+suddenly entered with her daughter. She threw her
+flowers on the table, sprang forward to meet Elsie, seized
+her hands and called to Margaret.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How good of you to come so soon! This, Margaret,
+is our dear little friend who has been so good to Ben and
+to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret took Elsie&#8217;s hand and longed to throw her
+arms around her neck, but something in the quiet dignity
+of the Northern girl&#8217;s manner held her back. She only
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>
+smiled tenderly through her big dark eyes, and softly
+said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We love you! Ben was my last brother. We were
+playmates and chums. My heart broke when he ran
+away to the front. How can we thank you and your
+brother!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sure we&#8217;ve done nothing more than you would
+have done for us,&#8221; said Elsie, as Mrs. Cameron left the
+room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know, but we can never tell you how grateful
+we are to you. We feel that you have saved Ben&#8217;s life
+and ours. The war has been one long horror to us since
+my first brother was killed. But now it&#8217;s over, and we
+have Ben left, and our hearts have been crying for joy
+all night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hoped my brother, Captain Phil Stoneman, would
+be here to-day to meet you and help me, but he can&#8217;t
+reach Washington before Friday.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He caught Ben in his arms!&#8221; cried Margaret. &#8220;I
+know he&#8217;s brave, and you must be proud of him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Doctor Barnes says they are as much alike as twins&mdash;only
+Phil is not quite so tall and has blond hair like mine.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will let me see him and thank him the moment
+he comes?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hurry, Margaret!&#8221; cheerily cried Mrs. Cameron,
+reëntering the parlour. &#8220;Get ready; we must go at
+once to the hospital.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret turned and with stately grace hurried from
+the room. The old dress she wore as unconscious of its
+shabbiness as though it were a royal robe.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;And now, my dear, what must I do to get the
+passes?&#8221; asked the mother eagerly.</p>
+<p>Elsie&#8217;s warm amber eyes grew misty for a moment, and
+the fair skin with its gorgeous rose tints of the North
+paled. She hesitated, tried to speak, and was silent.</p>
+<p>The sensitive soul of the Southern woman read the
+message of sorrow words had not framed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tell me, quickly! The doctor&mdash;has&mdash;not&mdash;concealed&mdash;his&mdash;true&mdash;condition&mdash;from&mdash;me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, he is certain to recover.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What then?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Worse&mdash;he is condemned to death by court-martial.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Condemned to death&mdash;a&mdash;wounded&mdash;prisoner&mdash;of&mdash;war!&#8221;
+she whispered slowly, with blanched face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, he was accused of violating the rules of war as a
+guerilla raider in the invasion of Pennsylvania.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Absurd and monstrous! He was on General Jeb
+Stuart&#8217;s staff and could have acted only under his orders.
+He joined the infantry after Stuart&#8217;s death, and rose to be
+a colonel, though but a boy. There&#8217;s some terrible
+mistake!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Unless we can obtain his pardon,&#8221; Elsie went on in
+even, restrained tones, &#8220;there is no hope. We must
+appeal to the President.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The mother&#8217;s lips trembled, and she seemed about to
+faint.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Could I see the President?&#8221; she asked, recovering
+herself with an effort.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He has just reached Washington from the front, and is
+thronged by thousands. It will be difficult.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span></p>
+<p>The mother&#8217;s lips were moving in silent prayer, and her
+eyes were tightly closed to keep back the tears.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can you help me, dear?&#8221; she asked piteously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; was the quick response.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You see,&#8221; she went on, &#8220;I feel so helpless. I have
+never been to the White House or seen the President, and
+I don&#8217;t know how to go about seeing him or how to ask
+him&mdash;and&mdash;I am afraid of Mr. Lincoln! I have heard so
+many harsh things said of him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll do my best, Mrs. Cameron. We must go at once
+to the White House and try to see him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The mother lifted the girl&#8217;s hand and stroked it gently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We will not tell Margaret. Poor child! she could
+not endure this. When we return, we may have
+better news. It can&#8217;t be worse. I&#8217;ll send her on an
+errand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She took up the bouquet of gorgeous roses with a sigh,
+buried her face in the fresh perfume, as if to gain strength
+in their beauty and fragrance, and left the room.</p>
+<p>In a few moments she had returned and was on her way
+with Elsie to the White House.</p>
+<p>It was a beautiful spring morning, this eleventh day of
+April, 1865. The glorious sunshine, the shimmering
+green of the grass, the warm breezes, and the shouts of
+victory mocked the mother&#8217;s anguish.</p>
+<p>At the White House gates they passed the blue sentry
+pacing silently back and forth, who merely glanced at
+them with keen eyes and said nothing. In the steady
+beat of his feet the mother could hear the tramp of soldiers
+leading her boy to the place of death!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span></p>
+<p>A great lump rose in her throat as she caught the first
+view of the Executive Mansion gleaming white and silent
+and ghostlike among the budding trees. The tall columns
+of the great facade, spotless as snow, the spray of
+the fountain, the marble walls, pure, dazzling, and cold,
+seemed to her the gateway to some great tomb in which
+her own dead and the dead of all the people lay! To
+her the fair white palace, basking there in the sunlight
+and budding grass, shrub, and tree, was the Judgment
+House of Fate. She thought of all the weary feet that
+had climbed its fateful steps in hope to return in despair,
+of its fierce dramas on which the lives of millions had
+hung, and her heart grew sick.</p>
+<p>A long line of people already stretched from the entrance
+under the portico far out across the park, awaiting
+their turn to see the President.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cameron placed her hand falteringly on Elsie&#8217;s
+shoulder.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look, my dear, what a crowd already! Must we
+wait in line?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I can get you past the throng with my father&#8217;s
+name.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will it be very difficult to reach the President?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, it&#8217;s very easy. Guards and sentinels annoy
+him. He frets until they are removed. An assassin or
+maniac could kill him almost any hour of the day or
+night. The doors are open at all hours, very late at
+night. I have often walked up to the rooms of his
+secretaries as late as nine o&#8217;clock without being challenged
+by a soul.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;What must I call him? Must I say &#8216;Your Excellency?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By no means&mdash;he hates titles and forms. You should
+say &#8216;Mr. President&#8217; in addressing him. But you will
+please him best if, in your sweet, homelike way, you will
+just call him by his name. You can rely on his sympathy.
+Read this letter of his to a widow. I brought it to show
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She handed Mrs. Cameron a newspaper clipping on
+which was printed Mr. Lincoln&#8217;s letter to Mrs. Bixby, of
+Boston, who had lost five sons in the war.</p>
+<p>Over and over she read its sentences until they echoed
+as solemn music in her soul:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine
+which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so
+overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the
+consolation that may be found in the thanks of the republic
+they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father may
+assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only
+the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn
+pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon
+the altar of freedom.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yours very sincerely and respectfully,</p>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Abraham Lincoln.</span>&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And the President paused amid a thousand cares to
+write that letter to a broken-hearted woman?&#8221; the mother
+asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then he is good down to the last secret depths of a
+great heart! Only a Christian father could have written
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>
+that letter. I shall not be afraid to speak to him. And
+they told me he was an infidel!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie led her by a private way past the crowd and
+into the office of Major Hay, the President&#8217;s private
+secretary. A word from the Great Commoner&#8217;s daughter
+admitted them at once to the President&#8217;s room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just take a seat on one side, Miss Elsie,&#8221; said Major
+Hay; &#8220;watch your first opportunity and introduce your
+friend.&#8221;</p>
+<p>On entering the room, Mrs. Cameron could not see the
+President, who was seated at his desk surrounded by three
+men in deep consultation over a mass of official documents.</p>
+<p>She looked about the room nervously and felt reassured
+by its plain aspect. It was a medium-sized, officelike
+place, with no signs of elegance or ceremony. Mr. Lincoln
+was seated in an armchair beside a high writing-desk and
+table combined. She noticed that his feet were large and
+that they rested on a piece of simple straw matting.
+Around the room were sofas and chairs covered with
+green worsted.</p>
+<p>When the group about the chair parted a moment, she
+caught the first glimpse of the man who held her life in
+the hollow of his hand. She studied him with breathless
+interest. His back was still turned. Even while seated,
+she saw that he was a man of enormous stature, fully six
+feet four inches tall, legs and arms abnormally long, and
+huge broad shoulders slightly stooped. His head was
+powerful and crowned with a mass of heavy brown hair,
+tinged with silver.</p>
+<p>He turned his head slightly and she saw his profile set
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>
+in its short dark beard&mdash;the broad intellectual brow, half
+covered by unmanageable hair, his face marked with
+deep-cut lines of life and death, with great hollows in the
+cheeks and under the eyes. In the lines which marked
+the corners of his mouth she could see firmness, and his
+beetling brows and unusually heavy eyelids looked stern
+and formidable. Her heart sank. She looked again and
+saw goodness, tenderness, sorrow, canny shrewdness, and
+a strange lurking smile all haunting his mouth and eye.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he threw himself forward in his chair, wheeled
+and faced one of his tormentors with a curious and comical
+expression. With one hand patting the other, and a
+funny look overspreading his face, he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My friend, let me tell you something&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The man again stepped before him, and she could hear
+nothing. When the story was finished, the man tried to
+laugh. It died in a feeble effort. But the President
+laughed heartily, laughed all over, and laughed his visitors
+out of the room.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cameron turned toward Elsie with a mute look of
+appeal to give her this moment of good-humour in which
+to plead her cause, but before she could move a man of
+military bearing suddenly stepped before the President.</p>
+<p>He began to speak, but seeing the look of stern decision
+in Mr. Lincoln&#8217;s face, turned abruptly and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. President, I see you are fully determined not to
+do me justice!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Lincoln slightly compressed his lips, rose quietly,
+seized the intruder by the arm, and led him toward the
+door.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;This is the third time you have forced your presence
+on me, sir, asking that I reverse the just sentence of a
+court-martial, dismissing you from the service. I told
+you my decision was carefully made and was final. Now
+I give you fair warning never to show yourself in this room
+again. I can bear censure, but I will not endure insult!&#8221;</p>
+<p>In whining tones the man begged for his papers he had
+dropped.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Begone, sir,&#8221; said the President, as he thrust him
+through the door. &#8220;Your papers will be sent to you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The poor mother trembled at this startling act and
+sank back limp in her seat.</p>
+<p>With quick, swinging stride the President walked back
+to his desk, accompanied by Major Hay and a young
+German girl, whose simple dress told that she was from
+the Western plains.</p>
+<p>He handed the secretary an official paper.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Give this pardon to the boy&#8217;s mother when she comes
+this morning,&#8221; he said kindly to the secretary, his eyes
+suddenly full of gentleness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How could I consent to shoot a boy raised on a farm,
+in the habit of going to bed at dark, for falling asleep at his
+post when required to watch all night? I&#8217;ll never go into
+eternity with the blood of such a boy on my skirts.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Again the mother&#8217;s heart rose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You remember the young man I pardoned for a
+similar offence in &#8217;62, about which Stanton made such a
+fuss?&#8221; he went on in softly reminiscent tones. &#8220;Well,
+here is that pardon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He drew from the lining of his silk hat a photograph,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>
+around which was wrapped an executive pardon. Through
+the lower end of it was a bullet-hole stained with blood.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I got this in Richmond. They found him dead on
+the field. He fell in the front ranks with my photograph
+in his pocket next to his heart, this pardon wrapped
+around it, and on the back of it in his boy&#8217;s scrawl, &#8216;<i>God
+bless Abraham Lincoln</i>.&#8217; I love to invest in bonds like
+that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The secretary returned to his room, the girl who was
+waiting stepped forward, and the President rose to receive
+her.</p>
+<p>The mother&#8217;s quick eye noted, with surprise, the
+simple dignity and chivalry of manner with which he received
+this humble woman of the people.</p>
+<p>With straightforward eloquence the girl poured out
+her story, begging for the pardon of her young brother
+who had been sentenced to death as a deserter. He
+listened in silence.</p>
+<p>How pathetic the deep melancholy of his sad face!
+Yes, she was sure, the saddest face that God ever made in
+all the world! Her own stricken heart for a moment
+went out to him in sympathy.</p>
+<p>The President took off his spectacles, wiped his forehead
+with the large red silk handkerchief he carried, and
+his eyes twinkled kindly down into the good German
+face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You seem an honest, truthful, sweet girl,&#8221; he said,
+&#8220;and&#8221;&mdash;he smiled&mdash;&#8220;you don&#8217;t wear hoop skirts! I may
+be whipped for this, but I&#8217;ll trust you and your brother,
+too. He shall be pardoned.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span>
+Elsie rose to introduce Mrs. Cameron, when a Congressman
+from Massachusetts suddenly stepped before her and
+pressed for the pardon of a slave trader whose ship had
+been confiscated. He had spent five years in prison, but
+could not pay the heavy fine in money imposed.</p>
+<p>The President had taken his seat again, and read the
+eloquent appeal for mercy. He looked up over his spectacles,
+fixed his eyes piercingly on the Congressman and
+said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is a moving appeal, sir, expressed with great
+eloquence. I might pardon a murderer under the spell
+of such words, but a man who can make a business of
+going to Africa and robbing her of her helpless children
+and selling them into bondage&mdash;no, sir&mdash;he may rot in
+jail before he shall have liberty by any act of mine!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Again the mother&#8217;s heart sank.</p>
+<p>Her hour had come. She must put the issue of life
+or death to the test, and as Elsie rose and stepped quickly
+forward, she followed; nerving herself for the ordeal.</p>
+<p>The President took Elsie&#8217;s hand familiarly and smiled
+without rising. Evidently she was well known to him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you hear the prayer of a broken-hearted mother
+of the South, who has lost four sons in General Lee&#8217;s
+army?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>Looking quietly past the girl, he caught sight, for the
+first time, of the faded dress and the sorrow-shadowed face.</p>
+<p>He was on his feet in a moment, extended his hand and
+led her to a chair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Take this seat, Madam, and then tell me in your own
+way what I can do for you.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>
+In simple words, mighty with the eloquence of a
+mother&#8217;s heart, she told her story and asked for the pardon
+of her boy, promising his word of honour and her own
+that he would never again take up arms against the
+Union.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The war is over now, Mr. Lincoln,&#8221; she said, &#8220;and
+we have lost all. Can you conceive the desolation of <i>my</i>
+heart? My four boys were noble men. They may have
+been wrong, but they fought for what they believed to be
+right. You, too, have lost a boy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President&#8217;s eyes grew dim.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, a beautiful boy&mdash;&mdash;&#8221; he said simply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, mine are all gone but this baby. One of them
+sleeps in an unmarked grave at Gettysburg. One died
+in a Northern prison. One fell at Chancellorsville, one in
+the Wilderness, and this, my baby, before Petersburg.
+Perhaps I&#8217;ve loved him too much, this last one&mdash;he&#8217;s
+only a child yet&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You shall have your boy, my dear Madam,&#8221; the
+President said simply, seating himself and writing a brief
+order to the Secretary of War.</p>
+<p>The mother drew near his desk, softly crying. Through
+her tears she said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My heart is heavy, Mr. Lincoln, when I think of all
+the hard and bitter things we have heard of you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, give my love to the people of South Carolina
+when you go home, and tell them that I am their President,
+and that I have never forgotten this fact in the
+darkest hours of this awful war; and I am going to do
+everything in my power to help them.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span>
+&#8220;You will never regret this generous act,&#8221; the mother
+cried with gratitude.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I reckon not,&#8221; he answered. &#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you something,
+Madam, if you won&#8217;t tell anybody. It&#8217;s a secret of my
+administration. I&#8217;m only too glad of an excuse to save
+a life when I can. Every drop of blood shed in this war
+North and South has been as if it were wrung out of
+my heart. A strange fate decreed that the bloodiest war
+in human history should be fought under my direction.
+And I&mdash;to whom the sight of blood is a sickening horror&mdash;I
+have been compelled to look on in silent anguish because
+I could not stop it! Now that the Union is saved, not
+another drop of blood shall be spilled if I can prevent it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;May God bless you!&#8221; the mother cried, as she received
+from him the order.</p>
+<p>She held his hand an instant as she took her leave,
+laughing and sobbing in her great joy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must tell you, Mr. President,&#8221; she said, &#8220;how surprised
+and how pleased I am to find you are a Southern
+man.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, didn&#8217;t you know that my parents were Virginians,
+and that I was born in Kentucky?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very few people in the South know it. I am ashamed
+to say I did not.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then, how did you know I am a Southerner?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By your looks, your manner of speech, your easy,
+kindly ways, your tenderness and humour, your firmness
+in the right as you see it, and, above all, the way you rose
+and bowed to a woman in an old, faded black dress, whom
+you knew to be an enemy.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>
+&#8220;No, Madam, not an enemy now,&#8221; he said softly.
+&#8220;That word is out of date.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If we had only known you in time&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President accompanied her to the door with a
+deference of manner that showed he had been deeply
+touched.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Take this letter to Mr. Stanton at once,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;Some folks complain of my pardons, but it rests me
+after a hard day&#8217;s work if I can save some poor boy&#8217;s
+life. I go to bed happy, thinking of the joy I have given
+to those who love him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As the last words were spoken, a peculiar dreaminess
+of expression stole over his careworn face, as if a throng
+of gracious memories had lifted for a moment the burden
+of his life.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='III_THE_MAN_OF_WAR' id='III_THE_MAN_OF_WAR'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Man of War</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Elsie led Mrs. Cameron direct from the White
+House to the War Department.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Mrs. Cameron, what did you think of
+the President?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hardly know,&#8221; was the thoughtful answer. &#8220;He is
+the greatest man I ever met. One feels this instinctively.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When Mrs. Cameron was ushered into the Secretary&#8217;s
+Office, Mr. Stanton was seated at his desk writing.</p>
+<p>She handed the order of the President to a clerk, who
+gave it to the Secretary.</p>
+<p>He was a man in the full prime of life, intellectual and
+physical, low and heavy set, about five feet eight inches in
+height and inclined to fat. His movements, however,
+were quick, and as he swung in his chair the keenest
+vigour marked every movement of body and every change
+of his countenance.</p>
+<p>His face was swarthy and covered with a long, dark
+beard touched with gray. He turned a pair of little
+black piercing eyes on her and without rising said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;So you are the woman who has a wounded son under
+sentence of death as a guerilla?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am so unfortunate,&#8221; she answered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I have nothing to say to you,&#8221; he went on in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>
+a louder and sterner tone, &#8220;and no time to waste on you.
+If you have raised up men to rebel against the best
+government under the sun, you can take the consequences&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, my dear sir,&#8221; broke in the mother, &#8220;he is a mere
+boy of nineteen, who ran away three years ago and
+entered the service&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to hear another word from you!&#8221; he
+yelled in rage. &#8220;I have no time to waste&mdash;go at once.
+I&#8217;ll do nothing for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I bring you an order from the President,&#8221; protested
+the mother.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know it,&#8221; he answered with a sneer, &#8220;and I&#8217;ll
+do with it what I&#8217;ve done with many others&mdash;see that it is
+not executed&mdash;now go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But the President told me you would give me a pass
+to the hospital, and that a full pardon would be issued to
+my boy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I see. But let me give you some information.
+The President is a fool&mdash;a d&mdash;&mdash; fool! Now, will you
+go?&#8221;</p>
+<p>With a sinking sense of horror, Mrs. Cameron withdrew
+and reported to Elsie the unexpected encounter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The brute!&#8221; cried the girl. &#8220;We&#8217;ll go back immediately
+and report this insult to the President.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why are such men intrusted with power?&#8221; the
+mother sighed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a mystery to me, I&#8217;m sure. They say he is the
+greatest Secretary of War in our history. I don&#8217;t believe
+it. Phil hates the sight of him, and so does every army
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
+officer I know, from General Grant down. I hope Mr.
+Lincoln will expel him from the Cabinet for this insult.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When, they were again ushered into the President&#8217;s
+office, Elsie hastened to inform him of the outrageous
+reply the Secretary of War had made to his order.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did Stanton say that I was a fool?&#8221; he asked, with a
+quizzical look out of his kindly eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, he did,&#8221; snapped Elsie. &#8220;And he repeated it
+with a blankety prefix.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President looked good-humouredly out of the
+window toward the War Office and musingly said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, if Stanton says that I am a blankety fool, it
+must be so, for I have found out that he is nearly always
+right, and generally means what he says. I&#8217;ll just step
+over and see Stanton.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As he spoke the last sentence, the humour slowly faded
+from his face, and the anxious mother saw back of those
+patient gray eyes the sudden gleam of the courage and
+conscious power of a lion.</p>
+<p>He dismissed them with instructions to return the next
+day for his final orders and walked over to the War
+Department alone.</p>
+<p>The Secretary of War was in one of his ugliest moods,
+and made no effort to conceal it when asked his reasons
+for the refusal to execute the order.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The grounds for my action are very simple,&#8221; he said
+with bitter emphasis. &#8220;The execution of this traitor is
+part of a carefully considered policy of justice on which
+the future security of the Nation depends. If I am to
+administer this office, I will not be hamstrung by constant
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>
+Executive interference. Besides, in this particular
+case, I was urged that justice be promptly executed
+by the most powerful man in Congress. I advise you to
+avoid a quarrel with old Stoneman at this crisis in our
+history.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President sat on a sofa with his legs crossed, relapsed
+into an attitude of resignation, and listened in
+silence until the last sentence, when suddenly he sat bolt
+upright, fixed his deep gray eyes intently on Stanton and
+said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Secretary, I reckon you will have to execute that
+order.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot do it,&#8221; came the firm answer. &#8220;It is an
+interference with justice, and I will not execute it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Lincoln held his eyes steadily on Stanton and
+slowly said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Secretary, it will have to be done.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stanton wheeled in his chair, seized a pen and wrote
+very rapidly a few lines to which he fixed his signature.
+He rose with the paper in his hand, walked to his chief,
+and with deep emotion said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. President, I wish to thank you for your constant
+friendship during the trying years I have held this office.
+The war is ended, and my work is done. I hand you my
+resignation.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Lincoln&#8217;s lips came suddenly together, he slowly
+rose, and looked down with surprise into the flushed
+angry face.</p>
+<p>He took the paper, tore it into pieces, slipped one of his
+long arms around the Secretary, and said in low accents:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Stanton, you have been a faithful public servant, and
+it is not for you to say when you will no longer be needed.
+Go on with your work. I will have my way in this matter;
+but I will attend to it personally.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stanton resumed his seat, and the President returned
+to the White House.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IV_A_CLASH_OF_GIANTS' id='IV_A_CLASH_OF_GIANTS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Clash of Giants</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Elsie secured from the Surgeon-General temporary
+passes for the day, and sent her friends to
+the hospital with the promise that she would not
+leave the White House until she had secured the pardon.</p>
+<p>The President greeted her with unusual warmth. The
+smile that had only haunted his sad face during four years
+of struggle, defeat, and uncertainty had now burst into
+joy that made his powerful head radiate light. Victory
+had lifted the veil from his soul, and he was girding himself
+for the task of healing the Nation&#8217;s wounds.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll have it ready for you in a moment, Miss Elsie,&#8221; he
+said, touching with his sinewy hand a paper which lay on
+his desk, bearing on its face the red seal of the Republic.
+&#8220;I am only waiting to receive the passes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am very grateful to you, Mr. President,&#8221; the girl
+said feelingly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But tell me,&#8221; he said, with quaint, fatherly humour,
+&#8220;why you, of all our girls, the brightest, fiercest little
+Yankee in town, so take to heart a rebel boy&#8217;s sorrows?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie blushed, and then looked at him frankly with a
+saucy smile.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am fulfilling the Commandments.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Love your enemies?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly. How could one help loving the sweet,
+motherly face you saw yesterday.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President laughed heartily. &#8220;I see&mdash;of course, of
+course!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Honourable Austin Stoneman,&#8221; suddenly announced
+a clerk at his elbow.</p>
+<p>Elsie started in surprise and whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do not let my father know I am here. I will wait in
+the next room. You&#8217;ll let nothing delay the pardon, will
+you, Mr. President?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Lincoln warmly pressed her hand as she disappeared
+through the door leading into Major Hay&#8217;s room,
+and turned to meet the Great Commoner who hobbled
+slowly in, leaning on his crooked cane.</p>
+<p>At this moment he was a startling and portentous figure
+in the drama of the Nation, the most powerful parliamentary
+leader in American history, not excepting Henry
+Clay.</p>
+<p>No stranger ever passed this man without a second
+look. His clean-shaven face, the massive chiselled features,
+his grim eagle look, and cold, colourless eyes, with
+the frosts of his native Vermont sparkling in their depths,
+compelled attention.</p>
+<p>His walk was a painful hobble. He was lame in both
+feet, and one of them was deformed. The left leg ended
+in a mere bunch of flesh, resembling more closely an
+elephant&#8217;s hoof than the foot of a man.</p>
+<p>He was absolutely bald, and wore a heavy brown wig
+that seemed too small to reach the edge of his enormous
+forehead.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></p>
+<p>He rarely visited the White House. He was the able,
+bold, unscrupulous leader of leaders, and men came to see
+him. He rarely smiled, and when he did it was the smile
+of the cynic and misanthrope. His tongue had the lash of
+a scorpion. He was a greater terror to the trimmers and
+time-servers of his own party than to his political foes. He
+had hated the President with sullen, consistent, and unyielding
+venom from his first nomination at Chicago down
+to the last rumour of his new proclamation.</p>
+<p>In temperament a fanatic, in impulse a born revolutionist,
+the word conservatism was to him as a red rag to
+a bull. The first clash of arms was music to his soul. He
+laughed at the call for 75,000 volunteers, and demanded
+the immediate equipment of an army of a million men.
+He saw it grow to 2,000,000. From the first, his eagle
+eye had seen the end and all the long, blood-marked way
+between. And from the first, he began to plot the most
+cruel and awful vengeance in human history.</p>
+<p>And now his time had come.</p>
+<p>The giant figure in the White House alone had dared to
+brook his anger and block the way; for old Stoneman
+was the Congress of the United States. The opposition
+was too weak even for his contempt. Cool, deliberate, and
+venomous alike in victory or defeat, the fascination of his
+positive faith and revolutionary programme had drawn
+the rank and file of his party in Congress to him as
+charmed satellites.</p>
+<p>The President greeted him cordially, and with his
+habitual deference to age and physical infirmity hastened
+to place for him an easy chair near his desk.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p>
+<p>He was breathing heavily and evidently labouring
+under great emotion. He brought his cane to the floor
+with violence, placed both hands on its crook, leaned
+his massive jaws on his hands for a moment, and then
+said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. President, I have not annoyed you with many requests
+during the past four years, nor am I here to-day
+to ask any favours. I have come to warn you that, in the
+course you have mapped out, the executive and legislative
+branches have come to the parting of the ways, and
+that your encroachments on the functions of Congress
+will be tolerated, now that the Rebellion is crushed, not
+for a single moment!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mr. Lincoln listened with dignity, and a ripple of fun
+played about his eyes as he looked at his grim visitor.
+The two men were face to face at last&mdash;the two men
+above all others who had built and were to build the
+foundations of the New Nation&mdash;Lincoln&#8217;s in love and
+wisdom to endure forever, the Great Commoner&#8217;s in hate
+and madness, to bear its harvest of tragedy and death
+for generations yet unborn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, now, Stoneman,&#8221; began the good-humoured
+voice, &#8220;that puts me in mind&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old Commoner lifted his hand with a gesture of
+angry impatience:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Save your fables for fools. Is it true that you have
+prepared a proclamation restoring the conquered province
+of North Carolina to its place as a State in the Union
+with no provision for negro suffrage or the exile and disfranchisement
+of its rebels?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></p>
+<p>The President rose and walked back and forth with
+his hands folded behind him before answering.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have. The Constitution grants to the National
+Government no power to regulate suffrage, and makes no
+provision for the control of &#8216;conquered provinces.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Constitution!&#8221; thundered Stoneman. &#8220;I have a
+hundred constitutions in the pigeonholes of my desk!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have sworn to support but one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A worn-out rag&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Rag or silk, I&#8217;ve sworn to execute it, and I&#8217;ll do it, so
+help me God!&#8221; said the quiet voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve been doing it for the past four years, haven&#8217;t
+you!&#8221; sneered the Commoner. &#8220;What right had you
+under the Constitution to declare war against a &#8216;sovereign&#8217;
+State? To invade one for coercion? To blockade a
+port? To declare slaves free? To suspend the writ of
+<i>habeas corpus</i>? To create the State of West Virginia by
+the consent of two states, one of which was dead, and the
+other one of which lived in Ohio? By what authority
+have you appointed military governors in the &#8216;sovereign&#8217;
+States of Virginia, Tennessee, and Louisiana? Why
+trim the hedge and lie about it? We, too, are revolutionists,
+and you are our executive. The Constitution
+sustained and protected slavery. It <i>was</i> &#8216;a league with
+death and a covenant with hell,&#8217; and our flag &#8216;a polluted
+rag!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;In the stress of war,&#8221; said the President, with a far-away
+look, &#8220;it was necessary that I do things as Commander-in-Chief
+of the Army and Navy to save the Union
+which I have no right to do now that the Union is saved
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span>
+and its Constitution preserved. My first duty is to re-establish
+the Constitution as our supreme law over every
+inch of our soil.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Constitution be d&mdash;&mdash;d!&#8221; hissed the old man.
+&#8220;It was the creation, both in letter and spirit, of the
+slaveholders of the South.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then the world is their debtor, and their work is a
+monument of imperishable glory to them and to their
+children. I have sworn to preserve it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have outgrown the swaddling clothes of a babe.
+We will make new constitutions!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,&#8217;&#8221; softly
+spoke the tall, self-contained man.</p>
+<p>For the first time the old leader winced. He had long
+ago exhausted the vocabulary of contempt on the President,
+his character, ability, and policy. He felt as a
+shock the first impression of supreme authority with
+which he spoke. The man he had despised had grown
+into the great constructive statesman who would dispute
+with him every inch of ground in the attainment of his
+sinister life purpose.</p>
+<p>His hatred grew more intense as he realized the prestige
+and power with which he was clothed by his mighty
+office.</p>
+<p>With an effort he restrained his anger, and assumed an
+argumentative tone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can&#8217;t you see that your so-called States are now but
+conquered provinces? That North Carolina and other
+waste territories of the United States are unfit to associate
+with civilized communities?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;We fought no war of conquest,&#8221; quietly urged the
+President, &#8220;but one of self-preservation as an indissoluble
+Union. No State ever got out of it, by the grace of God
+and the power of our arms. Now that we have won,
+and established for all time its unity, shall we stultify
+ourselves by declaring we were wrong? These States
+must be immediately restored to their rights, or we shall
+betray the blood we have shed. There are no &#8216;conquered
+provinces&#8217; for us to spoil. A nation cannot make
+conquest of its own territory.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But we are acting outside the Constitution,&#8221; interrupted
+Stoneman.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Congress has no existence outside the Constitution,&#8221;
+was the quick answer.</p>
+<p>The old Commoner scowled, and his beetling brows
+hid for a moment his eyes. His keen intellect was catching
+its first glimpse of the intellectual grandeur of the man
+with whom he was grappling. The facility with which
+he could see all sides of a question, and the vivid imagination
+which lit his mental processes, were a revelation.
+We always underestimate the men we despise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why not out with it?&#8221; cried Stoneman, suddenly
+changing his tack. &#8220;You are determined to oppose
+negro suffrage?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have suggested to Governor Hahn of Louisiana to
+consider the policy of admitting the more intelligent and
+those who served in the war. It is only a suggestion.
+The State alone has the power to confer the ballot.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But the truth is this little &#8216;suggestion&#8217; of yours is only
+a bone thrown to radical dogs to satisfy our howlings for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span>
+the moment! In your soul of souls you don&#8217;t believe in
+the equality of man if the man under comparison be a
+negro?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I believe that there is a physical difference between
+the white and black races which will forever forbid their
+living together on terms of political and social equality.
+If such be attempted, one must go to the wall.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, pin the Southern white man to the wall.
+Our party and the Nation will then be safe.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That is to say, destroy African slavery and establish
+white slavery under negro masters! That would be
+progress with a vengeance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A grim smile twitched the old man&#8217;s lips as he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, your prim conservative snobs and male waiting-maids
+in Congress went into hysterics when I armed the
+negroes. Yet the heavens have not fallen.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;True. Yet no more insane blunder could now be
+made than any further attempt to use these negro
+troops. There can be no such thing as restoring this
+Union to its basis of fraternal peace with armed negroes,
+wearing the uniform of this Nation, tramping over the
+South, and rousing the basest passions of the freedmen
+and their former masters. General Butler, their old
+commander, is now making plans for their removal, at
+my request. He expects to dig the Panama Canal with
+these black troops.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fine scheme that&mdash;on a par with your messages to
+Congress asking for the colonization of the whole negro
+race!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will come to that ultimately,&#8221; said the President
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>
+firmly. &#8220;The negro has cost us $5,000,000,000, the desolation
+of ten great States, and rivers of blood. We can
+well afford a few million dollars more to effect a permanent
+settlement of the issue. This is the only policy on
+which Seward and I have differed&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then Seward was not an utterly hopeless fool. I&#8217;m
+glad to hear something to his credit,&#8221; growled the old
+Commoner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have urged the colonization of the negroes, and I
+shall continue until it is accomplished. My emancipation
+proclamation was linked with this plan. Thousands
+of them have lived in the North for a hundred years, yet
+not one is the pastor of a white church, a judge, a governor,
+a mayor, or a college president. There is no room for
+two distinct races of white men in America, much less for
+two distinct races of whites and blacks. We can have no inferior
+servile class, peon or peasant. We must assimilate
+or expel. The American is a citizen king or nothing. I
+can conceive of no greater calamity than the assimilation
+of the negro into our social and political life as our equal.
+A mulatto citizenship would be too dear a price to pay
+even for emancipation.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Words have no power to express my loathing for such
+twaddle!&#8221; cried Stoneman, snapping his great jaws together
+and pursing his lips with contempt.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If the negro were not here would we allow him to
+land?&#8221; the President went on, as if talking to himself.
+&#8220;The duty to exclude carries the right to expel.
+Within twenty years we can peacefully colonize the
+negro in the tropics, and give him our language, literature,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span>
+religion, and system of government under conditions
+in which he can rise to the full measure of manhood.
+This he can never do here. It was the fear of the black
+tragedy behind emancipation that led the South into the
+insanity of secession. We can never attain the ideal
+Union our fathers dreamed, with millions of an alien, inferior
+race among us, whose assimilation is neither possible
+nor desirable. The Nation cannot now exist half
+white and half black, any more than it could exist half
+slave and half free.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yet &#8216;God hath made of one blood all races,&#8217;&#8221; quoted
+the cynic with a sneer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;but finish the sentence&mdash;&#8216;and fixed the bounds
+of their habitation.&#8217; God never meant that the negro
+should leave his habitat or the white man invade his
+home. Our violation of this law is written in two centuries
+of shame and blood. And the tragedy will not be
+closed until the black man is restored to his home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I marvel that the minions of slavery elected Jeff
+Davis their chief with so much better material at hand!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;His election was a tragic and superfluous blunder. I
+am the President of the United States, North and South,&#8221;
+was the firm reply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Particularly the South!&#8221; hissed Stoneman. &#8220;During
+all this hideous war they have been your pets&mdash;these
+rebel savages who have been murdering our sons. You
+have been the ever-ready champion of traitors. And you
+now dare to bend this high office to their defence&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My God, Stoneman, are you a man or a savage!&#8221;
+cried the President. &#8220;Is not the North equally responsible
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>
+for slavery? Has not the South lost all? Have
+not the Southern people paid the full penalty of all the
+crimes of war? Are our skirts free? Was Sherman&#8217;s
+march a picnic? This war has been a giant conflict of
+principles to decide whether we are a bundle of petty
+sovereignties held by a rope of sand or a mighty nation of
+freemen. But for the loyalty of four border Southern
+States&mdash;but for Farragut and Thomas and their two
+hundred thousand heroic Southern brethren who fought
+for the Union against their own flesh and blood, we should
+have lost. You cannot indict a people&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do indict them!&#8221; muttered the old man.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Surely,&#8221; went on the even, throbbing voice, &#8220;surely,
+the vastness of this war, its titanic battles, its heroism,
+its sublime earnestness, should sink into oblivion all low
+schemes of vengeance! Before the sheer grandeur of its
+history our children will walk with silent lips and uncovered
+heads.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And forget the prison pen at Andersonville!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. We refused, as a policy of war, to exchange
+those prisoners, blockaded their ports, made medicine
+contraband, and brought the Southern Army itself to
+starvation. The prison records, when made at last for
+history, will show as many deaths on our side as on theirs.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The murderer on the gallows always wins more sympathy
+than his forgotten victim,&#8221; interrupted the cynic.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The sin of vengeance is an easy one under the subtle
+plea of justice,&#8221; said the sorrowful voice. &#8220;Have we not
+had enough bloodshed? Is not God&#8217;s vengeance enough?
+When Sherman&#8217;s army swept to the sea, before him lay
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>
+the Garden of Eden, behind him stretched a desert! A
+hundred years cannot give back to the wasted South her
+wealth, or two hundred years restore to her the lost seed
+treasures of her young manhood&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The imbecility of a policy of mercy in this crisis can
+only mean the reign of treason and violence,&#8221; persisted
+the old man, ignoring the President&#8217;s words.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I leave my policy before the judgment bar of time,
+content with its verdict. In my place, radicalism would
+have driven the border States into the Confederacy, every
+Southern man back to his kinsmen, and divided the North
+itself into civil conflict. I have sought to guide and control
+public opinion into the ways on which depended our
+life. This rational flexibility of policy you and your
+fellow radicals have been pleased to call my vacillating
+imbecility.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And what is your message for the South?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Simply this: &#8216;Abolish slavery, come back home, and
+behave yourself.&#8217; Lee surrendered to our offers of peace
+and amnesty. In my last message to Congress I told the
+Southern people they could have peace at any moment
+by simply laying down their arms and submitting to
+National authority. Now that they have taken me at
+my word, shall I betray them by an ignoble revenge?
+Vengeance cannot heal and purify: it can only brutalize
+and destroy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman shuffled to his feet with impatience.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I see it is useless to argue with you. I&#8217;ll not waste
+my breath. I give you an ultimatum. The South is
+conquered soil. I mean to blot it from the map. Rather
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span>
+than admit one traitor to the halls of Congress from these
+so-called States I will shatter the Union itself into ten
+thousand fragments! I will not sit beside men whose
+clothes smell of the blood of my kindred. At least dry
+them before they come in. Four years ago, with yells and
+curses, these traitors left the halls of Congress to join the
+armies of Catiline. Shall they return to rule?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I repeat,&#8221; said the President, &#8220;you cannot indict a
+people. Treason is an easy word to speak. A traitor is
+one who fights and loses. Washington was a traitor to
+George III. Treason won, and Washington is immortal.
+Treason is a word that victors hurl at those who fail.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Listen to me,&#8221; Stoneman interrupted with vehemence.
+&#8220;The life of our party demands that the negro be given
+the ballot and made the ruler of the South. This can be
+done only by the extermination of its landed aristocracy,
+that their mothers shall not breed another race of
+traitors. This is not vengeance. It is justice, it is patriotism,
+it is the highest wisdom and humanity. Nature,
+at times, blots out whole communities and races that
+obstruct progress. Such is the political genius of these
+people that, unless you make the negro the ruler, the
+South will yet reconquer the North and undo the work of
+this war.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If the South in poverty and ruin can do this, we deserve
+to be ruled! The North is rich and powerful&mdash;the
+South a land of wreck and tomb. I greet with wonder,
+shame, and scorn such ignoble fear! The Nation cannot
+be healed until the South is healed. Let the gulf be
+closed in which we bury slavery, sectional animosity, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span>
+all strifes and hatreds. The good sense of our people will
+never consent to your scheme of insane vengeance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The people have no sense. A new fool is born every
+second. They are ruled by impulse and passion.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have trusted them before, and they have not failed
+me. The day I left for Gettysburg to dedicate the battlefield,
+you were so sure of my defeat in the approaching
+convention that you shouted across the street to a friend
+as I passed: &#8216;Let the dead bury the dead!&#8217; It was a brilliant
+sally of wit. I laughed at it myself. And yet the
+people unanimously called me again to lead them to
+victory.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, in the past,&#8221; said Stoneman bitterly, &#8220;you have
+triumphed, but mark my word: from this hour your star
+grows dim. The slumbering fires of passion will be
+kindled. In the fight we join to-day I&#8217;ll break your back
+and wring the neck of every dastard and time-server who
+fawns at your feet.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President broke into a laugh that only increased
+the old man&#8217;s wrath.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I protest against the insult of your buffoonery!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Excuse me, Stoneman; I have to laugh or die beneath
+the burdens I bear, surrounded by such supporters!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mark my word,&#8221; growled the old leader, &#8220;from the
+moment you publish that North Carolina proclamation,
+your name will be a by-word in Congress.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are higher powers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will need them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll have help,&#8221; was the calm reply, as the dreaminess
+of the poet and mystic stole over the rugged face. &#8220;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span>
+would be a presumptuous fool, indeed, if I thought that
+for a day I could discharge the duties of this great office
+without the aid of One who is wiser and stronger than all
+others.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll need the help of Almighty God in the course
+you&#8217;ve mapped out!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Some ships come into port that are not steered,&#8221; went
+on the dreamy voice. &#8220;Suppose Pickett had charged
+one hour earlier at Gettysburg? Suppose the <i>Monitor</i>
+had arrived one hour later at Hampton Roads? I had
+a dream last night that always presages great events.
+I saw a white ship passing swiftly under full sail. I have
+often seen her before. I have never known her port of
+entry, or her destination, but I have always known her
+Pilot!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The cynic&#8217;s lips curled with scorn. He leaned heavily
+on his cane, and took a shambling step toward the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You refuse to heed the wishes of Congress?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If your words voice them, yes. Force your scheme
+of revenge on the South, and you sow the wind to reap the
+whirlwind.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed! and from what secret cave will this whirlwind
+come?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The despair of a mighty race of world-conquering
+men, even in defeat, is still a force that statesmen reckon
+with.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I defy them,&#8221; growled the old Commoner.</p>
+<p>Again the dreamy look returned to Lincoln&#8217;s face, and
+he spoke as if repeating a message of the soul caught in the
+clouds in an hour of transfiguration:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;And I&#8217;ll trust the honour of Lee and his people. The
+mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield
+and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone
+all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of
+the Union, when touched again, as they surely will be, by
+the better angels of our nature.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll be lucky to live to hear that chorus.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;To dream it is enough. If I fall by the hand of an
+assassin now, he will not come from the South. I was
+safer in Richmond, this week, than I am in Washington,
+to-day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The cynic grunted and shuffled another step toward the
+door.</p>
+<p>The President came closer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here, Stoneman; have you some deep personal
+motive in this vengeance on the South? Come, now,
+I&#8217;ve never in my life known you to tell a lie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The answer was silence and a scowl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Am I right?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes and no. I hate the South because I hate the
+Satanic Institution of Slavery with consuming fury. It
+has long ago rotted the heart out of the Southern people.
+Humanity cannot live in its tainted air, and its children
+are doomed. If my personal wrongs have ordained me
+for a mighty task, no matter; I am simply the chosen
+instrument of Justice!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Again the mystic light clothed the rugged face, calm
+and patient as Destiny, as the President slowly repeated:</p>
+<p>&#8220;With malice toward none, with charity for all, with
+firmness in the right, as God gives me to see the right, I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span>
+shall strive to finish the work we are in, and bind up the
+Nation&#8217;s wounds.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve given you fair warning,&#8221; cried the old Commoner,
+trembling with rage, as he hobbled nearer the door.
+&#8220;From this hour your administration is doomed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stoneman,&#8221; said the kindly voice, &#8220;I can&#8217;t tell you
+how your venomous philanthropy sickens me. You have
+misunderstood and abused me at every step during the
+past four years. I bear you no ill will. If I have said
+anything to-day to hurt your feelings, forgive me. The
+earnestness with which you pressed the war was an invaluable
+service to me and to the Nation. I&#8217;d rather
+work with you than fight you. But now that we have
+to fight, I&#8217;d as well tell you I&#8217;m not afraid of you. I&#8217;ll
+suffer my right arm to be severed from my body before
+I&#8217;ll sign one measure of ignoble revenge on a brave, fallen
+foe, and I&#8217;ll keep up this fight until I win, die, or my
+country forsakes me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have always known you had a sneaking admiration
+for the South,&#8221; came the sullen sneer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I love the South! It is a part of this Union. I love
+every foot of its soil, every hill and valley, mountain, lake,
+and sea, and every man, woman, and child that breathes
+beneath its skies. I am an American.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As the burning words leaped from the heart of the
+President the broad shoulders of his tall form lifted, and
+his massive head rose in unconscious heroic pose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I marvel that you ever made war upon your loved
+ones!&#8221; cried the cynic.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We fought the South because we loved her and would
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span>
+not let her go. Now that she is crushed and lies bleeding
+at our feet&mdash;you shall not make war on the wounded,
+dying, and the dead!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Again the lion gleamed in the calm gray eyes.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IV_THE_BATTLE_OF_LOVE' id='IV_THE_BATTLE_OF_LOVE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Battle of Love</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Elsie carried Ben Cameron&#8217;s pardon to the anxious
+mother and sister with her mind in a tumult.
+The name on these fateful papers fascinated her.
+She read it again and again with a curious personal joy
+that she had saved a life!</p>
+<p>She had entered on her work among the hospitals a
+bitter partisan of her father&#8217;s school, with the simple
+idea that all Southerners were savage brutes. Yet as she
+had seen the wounded boys from the South among the
+men in blue, more and more she had forgotten the difference
+between them. They were so young, these slender,
+dark-haired ones from Dixie&mdash;so pitifully young! Some
+of them were only fifteen, and hundreds not over sixteen.
+A lad of fourteen she had kissed one day in sheer agony
+of pity for his loneliness.</p>
+<p>The part her father was playing in the drama on which
+Ben Cameron&#8217;s life had hung puzzled her. Was his the
+mysterious arm back of Stanton? Echoes of the fierce
+struggle with the President had floated through the half-open
+door.</p>
+<p>She had implicit faith in her father&#8217;s patriotism and
+pride in his giant intellect. She knew that he was a king
+among men by divine right of inherent power. His sensitive
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span>
+spirit, brooding over a pitiful lameness, had hidden
+from the world behind a frowning brow like a wounded
+animal. Yet her hand in hours of love, when no eye save
+God&#8217;s could see, had led his great soul out of its dark
+lair. She loved him with brooding tenderness, knowing
+that she had gotten closer to his inner life than any
+other human being&mdash;closer than her own mother, who
+had died while she was a babe. Her aunt, with whom she
+and Phil now lived, had told her the mother&#8217;s life was not
+a happy one. Their natures had not proved congenial,
+and her gentle Quaker spirit had died of grief in the quiet
+home in southern Pennsylvania.</p>
+<p>Yet there were times when he was a stranger even to
+her. Some secret, dark and cold, stood between them.
+Once she had tenderly asked him what it meant. He
+merely pressed her hand, smiled wearily, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing, my dear, only the Blue Devils after me
+again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He had always lived in Washington in a little house
+with black shutters, near the Capitol, while the children
+had lived with his sister, near the White House, where
+they had grown from babyhood.</p>
+<p>A curious fact about this place on the Capitol hill
+was that his housekeeper, Lydia Brown, was a mulatto,
+a woman of extraordinary animal beauty and the
+fiery temper of a leopardess. Elsie had ventured there
+once and got such a welcome she would never return.
+All sorts of gossip could be heard in Washington about
+this woman, her jewels, her dresses, her airs, her assumption
+of the dignity of the presiding genius of National
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span>
+legislation and her domination of the old Commoner and
+his life. It gradually crept into the newspapers and magazines,
+but he never once condescended to notice it.</p>
+<p>Elsie begged her father to close this house and live with
+them.</p>
+<p>His reply was short and emphatic:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Impossible, my child. This club foot must live next
+door to the Capitol. My house is simply an executive
+office at which I sleep. Half the business of the Nation
+is transacted there. Don&#8217;t mention this subject again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie choked back a sob at the cold menace in the
+tones of this command, and never repeated her request.
+It was the only wish he had ever denied her, and, somehow,
+her heart would come back to it with persistence
+and brood and wonder over his motive.</p>
+<p>The nearer she drew, this morning, to the hospital
+door, the closer the wounded boy&#8217;s life and loved ones
+seemed to hers. She thought with anguish of the storm
+about to break between her father and the President&mdash;the
+one demanding the desolation of their land, wasted,
+harried, and unarmed!&mdash;the President firm in his policy
+of mercy, generosity, and healing.</p>
+<p>Her father would not mince words. His scorpion
+tongue, set on fires of hell, might start a conflagration
+that would light the Nation with its glare. Would not his
+name be a terror for every man and woman born under
+Southern skies? The sickening feeling stole over her that
+he was wrong, and his policy cruel and unjust.</p>
+<p>She had never before admired the President. It was
+fashionable to speak with contempt of him in Washington.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>
+He had little following in Congress. Nine tenths of
+the politicians hated or feared him, and she knew her
+father had been the soul of a conspiracy at the Capitol to
+prevent his second nomination and create a dictatorship,
+under which to carry out an iron policy of reconstruction
+in the South. And now she found herself heart and soul
+the champion of the President.</p>
+<p>She was ashamed of her disloyalty, and felt a rush of
+impetuous anger against Ben and his people for thrusting
+themselves between her and her own. Yet how absurd to
+feel thus against the innocent victims of a great tragedy!
+She put the thought from her. Still she must part from
+them now before the brewing storm burst. It would be
+best for her and best for them. This pardon delivered
+would end their relations. She would send the papers
+by a messenger and not see them again. And then she
+thought with a throb of girlish pride of the hour to come
+in the future when Ben&#8217;s big brown eyes would be softened
+with a tear when he would learn that she had saved
+his life. They had concealed all from him as yet.</p>
+<p>She was afraid to question too closely in her own heart
+the shadowy motive that lay back of her joy. She read
+again with a lingering smile the name &#8220;Ben Cameron&#8221;
+on the paper with its big red Seal of Life. She had
+laughed at boys who had made love to her, dreaming a
+wider, nobler life of heroic service. And she felt that she
+was fulfilling her ideal in the generous hand she had extended
+to these who were friendless. Were they not the
+children of her soul in that larger, finer world of which
+she had dreamed and sung? Why should she give them
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span>
+up now for brutal politics? Their sorrow had been hers,
+their joy should be hers, too. She would take the papers
+herself and then say good-bye.</p>
+<p>She found the mother and sister beside the cot. Ben
+was sleeping with Margaret holding one of his hands.
+The mother was busy sewing for the wounded Confederate
+boys she had found scattered through the hospital.</p>
+<p>At the sight of Elsie holding aloft the message of life
+she sprang to meet her with a cry of joy.</p>
+<p>She clasped the girl to her breast, unable to speak. At
+last she released her and said with a sob:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My child, through good report and through evil report
+my love will enfold you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie stammered, looked away, and tried to hide her
+emotion. Margaret had knelt and bowed her head on
+Ben&#8217;s cot. She rose at length, threw her arms around
+Elsie in a resistless impulse, kissed her and whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My sweet sister!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie&#8217;s heart leaped at the words, as her eyes rested on
+the face of the sleeping soldier.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VI_THE_ASSASSINATION' id='VI_THE_ASSASSINATION'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Assassination</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Elsie called in the afternoon at the Camerons&#8217;
+lodgings, radiant with pride, accompanied by
+her brother.</p>
+<p>Captain Phil Stoneman, athletic, bronzed, a veteran of
+two years&#8217; service, dressed in his full uniform, was the
+ideal soldier, and yet he had never loved war. He was
+bubbling over with quiet joy that the end had come and
+he could soon return to a rational life. Inheriting his
+mother&#8217;s temperament, he was generous, enterprising,
+quick, intelligent, modest, and ambitious. War had
+seemed to him a horrible tragedy from the first. He had
+early learned to respect a brave foe, and bitterness had
+long since melted out of his heart.</p>
+<p>He had laughed at his father&#8217;s harsh ideas of Southern
+life gained as a politician, and, while loyal to him after a
+boy&#8217;s fashion, he took no stock in his Radical programme.</p>
+<p>The father, colossal egotist that he was, heard Phil&#8217;s
+protests with mild amusement and quiet pride in his
+independence, for he loved this boy with deep tenderness.</p>
+<p>Phil had been touched by the story of Ben&#8217;s narrow
+escape, and was anxious to show his mother and sister
+every courtesy possible in part atonement for the wrong
+he felt had been done them. He was timid with girls,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span>
+and yet he wished to give Margaret a cordial greeting for
+Elsie&#8217;s sake. He was not prepared for the shock the
+first appearance of the Southern girl gave him.</p>
+<p>When the stately figure swept through the door to
+greet him, her black eyes sparkling with welcome, her
+voice low and tender with genuine feeling, he caught his
+breath in surprise.</p>
+<p>Elsie noted his confusion with amusement and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must go to the hospital for a little work. Now, Phil,
+I&#8217;ll meet you at the door at eight o&#8217;clock.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll not forget,&#8221; he answered abstractedly, watching
+Margaret intently as she walked with Elsie to the door.</p>
+<p>He saw that her dress was of coarse, unbleached cotton,
+dyed with the juice of walnut hulls and set with wooden
+hand-made buttons. The story these things told of war
+and want was eloquent, yet she wore them with unconscious
+dignity. She had not a pin or brooch or piece of
+jewellery. Everything about her was plain and smooth,
+graceful and gracious. Her face was large&mdash;the lovely
+oval type&mdash;and her luxuriant hair, parted in the middle,
+fell downward in two great waves. Tall, stately, handsome,
+her dark rare Southern beauty full of subtle languor
+and indolent grace, she was to Phil a revelation.</p>
+<p>The coarse black dress that clung closely to her figure
+seemed alive when she moved, vital with her beauty.
+The musical cadences of her voice were vibrant with
+feeling, sweet, tender, and homelike. And the odour
+of the rose she wore pinned low on her breast he could
+swear was the perfume of her breath.</p>
+<p>Lingering in her eyes and echoing in the tones of her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>
+voice, he caught the shadowy memory of tears for the
+loved and lost that gave a strange pathos and haunting
+charm to her youth.</p>
+<p>She had returned quickly and was talking at ease with
+him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not going to tell you, Captain Stoneman, that I
+hope to be a sister to you. You have already made
+yourself my brother in what you did for Ben.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing, I assure you, Miss Cameron, that any
+soldier wouldn&#8217;t do for a brave foe.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps; but when the foe happens to be an only
+brother, my chum and playmate, brave and generous,
+whom I&#8217;ve worshipped as my beau-ideal man&mdash;why, you
+know I must thank you for taking him in your arms that
+day. May I, again?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil felt the soft warm hand clasp his, while the black
+eyes sparkled and glowed their friendly message.</p>
+<p>He murmured something incoherently, looked at Margaret
+as if in a spell, and forgot to let her hand go.</p>
+<p>She laughed at last, and he blushed and dropped it as
+though it were a live coal.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was about to forget, Miss Cameron. I wish to take
+you to the theatre to-night, if you will go?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;To the theatre?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. It&#8217;s to be an occasion, Elsie tells me. Laura
+Keene&#8217;s last appearance in &#8216;Our American Cousin,&#8217; and
+her one-thousandth performance of the play. She played
+it in Chicago at McVicker&#8217;s, when the President was first
+nominated, to hundreds of the delegates who voted for
+him. He is to be present to-night, so the <i>Evening Star</i>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>
+has announced, and General and Mrs. Grant with him.
+It will be the opportunity of your life to see these famous
+men&mdash;besides, I wish you to see the city illuminated on
+the way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret hesitated.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should like to go,&#8221; she said with some confusion.
+&#8220;But you see we are old-fashioned Scotch Presbyterians
+down in our village in South Carolina. I never was in
+a theatre&mdash;and this is Good Friday&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s a fact, sure,&#8221; said Phil thoughtfully. &#8220;It
+never occurred to me. War is not exactly a spiritual
+stimulant, and it blurs the calendar. I believe we fight
+on Sundays oftener than on any other day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I&#8217;m crazy to see the President since Ben&#8217;s
+pardon. Mamma will be here in a moment, and I&#8217;ll ask
+her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You see, it&#8217;s really an occasion,&#8221; Phil went on.
+&#8220;The people are all going there to see President Lincoln
+in the hour of his triumph, and his great General fresh
+from the field of victory. Grant has just arrived in
+town.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cameron entered and greeted Phil with motherly
+tenderness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Captain, you&#8217;re so much like my boy! Had you
+noticed it, Margaret?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course, Mamma, but I was afraid I&#8217;d tire him with
+flattery if I tried to tell him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only his hair is light and wavy, and Ben&#8217;s straight
+and black, or you&#8217;d call them twins. Ben&#8217;s a little taller&mdash;excuse
+us, Captain Stoneman, but we&#8217;ve fallen so in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span>
+love with your little sister we feel we&#8217;ve known you all
+our lives.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I assure you, Mrs. Cameron, your flattery is very
+sweet. Elsie and I do not remember our mother, and
+all this friendly criticism is more than welcome.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mamma, Captain Stoneman asks me to go with him
+and his sister to-night to see the President at the theatre.
+May I go?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will the President be there, Captain?&#8221; asked Mrs.
+Cameron.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Madam, with General and Mrs. Grant&mdash;it&#8217;s
+really a great public function in celebration of peace and
+victory. To-day the flag was raised over Fort Sumter,
+the anniversary of its surrender four years ago. The city
+will be illuminated.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then, of course, you can go. I will sit with Ben.
+I wish you to see the President.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At seven o&#8217;clock Phil called for Margaret. They walked
+to the Capitol hill and down Pennsylvania Avenue.</p>
+<p>The city was in a ferment. Vast crowds thronged the
+streets. In front of the hotel where General Grant
+stopped the throng was so dense the streets were completely
+blocked. Soldiers, soldiers, soldiers, at every
+turn, in squads, in companies, in regimental crowds,
+shouting cries of victory.</p>
+<p>The display of lights was dazzling in its splendour.
+Every building in every street, in every nook and corner
+of the city, was lighted from attic to cellar. The public
+buildings and churches vied with each other in the magnificence
+of their decorations and splendour of illuminations.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></p>
+<p>They turned a corner, and suddenly the Capitol on the
+throne of its imperial hill loomed a grand constellation in
+the heavens! Another look, and it seemed a huge bonfire
+against the background of the dark skies. Every window
+in its labyrinths of marble, from the massive base to
+its crowning statue of Freedom, gleamed and flashed with
+light&mdash;more than ten thousand jets poured their rays
+through its windows, besides the innumerable lights that
+circled the mighty dome within and without.</p>
+<p>Margaret stopped, and Phil felt her soft hand grip his
+arm with sudden emotion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t it sublime!&#8221; she whispered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Glorious!&#8221; he echoed.</p>
+<p>But he was thinking of the pressure of her hand on his
+arm and the subtle tones of her voice. Somehow he felt
+that the light came from her eyes. He forgot the Capitol
+and the surging crowds before the sweeter creative wonder
+silently growing in his soul.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And yet,&#8221; she faltered, &#8220;when I think of what all this
+means for our people at home&mdash;their sorrow and poverty
+and ruin&mdash;you know it makes me faint.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil&#8217;s hand timidly sought the soft one resting on his
+arm and touched it reverently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Believe me, Miss Margaret, it will be all for the best
+in the end. The South will yet rise to a nobler life than
+she has ever lived in the past. This is her victory as well
+as ours.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish I could think so,&#8221; she answered.</p>
+<p>They passed the City Hall and saw across its front, in
+giant letters of fire thirty feet deep, the words:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;UNION, SHERMAN, AND GRANT&#8221;</p>
+<p>On Pennsylvania Avenue the hotels and stores had
+hung every window, awning, cornice, and swaying tree-top
+with lanterns. The grand avenue was bridged by tri-coloured
+balloons floating and shimmering ghostlike far
+up in the dark sky. Above these, in the blacker zone
+toward the stars, the heavens were flashing sheets of
+chameleon flames from bursting rockets.</p>
+<p>Margaret had never dreamed such a spectacle. She
+walked in awed silence, now and then suppressing a sob
+for the memory of those she had loved and lost. A moment
+of bitterness would cloud her heart, and then with
+the sense of Phil&#8217;s nearness, his generous nature, the
+beauty and goodness of his sister, and all they owed to her
+for Ben&#8217;s life, the cloud would pass.</p>
+<p>At every public building, and in front of every great
+hotel, bands were playing. The wild war strains, floating
+skyward, seemed part of the changing scheme of light.
+The odour of burnt powder and smouldering rockets
+filled the warm spring air.</p>
+<p>The deep bay of the great fort guns now began to echo
+from every hilltop commanding the city, while a thousand
+smaller guns barked and growled from every square
+and park and crossing.</p>
+<p>Jay Cooke &amp; Co&#8217;s. banking-house had stretched across
+its front, in enormous blazing letters, the words:</p>
+<p>&#8220;THE BUSY B&#8217;S&mdash;BALLS, BALLOTS, AND BONDS&#8221;</p>
+<p>Every telegraph and newspaper office was a roaring
+whirlpool of excitement, for the same scenes were being
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
+enacted in every centre of the North. The whole city
+was now a fairy dream, its dirt and sin, shame and crime,
+all wrapped in glorious light.</p>
+<p>But above all other impressions was the contagion of
+the thunder shouts of hosts of men surging through the
+streets&mdash;the human roar with its animal and spiritual
+magnetism, wild, resistless, unlike any other force in the
+universe!</p>
+<p>Margaret&#8217;s hand again and again unconsciously tightened
+its hold on Phil&#8217;s arm, and he felt that the whole
+celebration had been gotten up for his benefit.</p>
+<p>They passed through a little park on their way to
+Ford&#8217;s Theatre on 10th Street, and the eye of the Southern
+girl was quick to note the budding flowers and full-blown
+lilacs.</p>
+<p>&#8220;See what an early spring!&#8221; she cried. &#8220;I know the
+flowers at home are gorgeous now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shall hope to see you among them some day, when
+all the clouds have lifted,&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>She smiled and replied with simple earnestness:</p>
+<p>&#8220;A warm welcome will await your coming.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And Phil resolved to lose no time in testing it.</p>
+<p>They turned into 10th Street, and in the middle of
+the block stood the plain three-story brick structure of
+Ford&#8217;s Theatre, an enormous crowd surging about its
+five doorways and spreading out on the sidewalk and half
+across the driveway.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is that the theatre?&#8221; asked Margaret.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, it looks like a church without a steeple.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Exactly what it really is, Miss Margaret. It was a
+Baptist church. They turned it into a playhouse, by
+remodelling its gallery into a dress-circle and balcony and
+adding another gallery above. My grandmother Stoneman
+is a devoted Baptist, and was an attendant at this
+church. My father never goes to church, but he used to
+go here occasionally to please her. Elsie and I frequently
+came.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil pushed his way rapidly through the crowd with a
+peculiar sense of pleasure in making a way for Margaret
+and in defending her from the jostling throng.</p>
+<p>They found Elsie at the door, stamping her foot with
+impatience.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I must say, Phil, this is prompt for a soldier who
+had positive orders,&#8221; she cried. &#8220;I&#8217;ve been here an hour.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, Sis, I&#8217;m ahead of time,&#8221; he protested.</p>
+<p>Elsie held up her watch.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a quarter past eight. Every seat is filled, and
+they&#8217;ve stopped selling standing-room. I hope you have
+good seats.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The best in the house to-night, the first row in the
+balcony dress-circle, opposite the President&#8217;s box. We
+can see everything on the stage, in the box, and every
+nook and corner of the house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll forgive you for keeping me waiting.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They ascended the stairs, pushed through the throng
+standing, and at last reached the seats.</p>
+<p>What a crowd! The building was a mass of throbbing
+humanity, and, over all, the hum of the thrilling wonder
+of peace and victory!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></p>
+<p>The women in magnificent costumes, officers in uniforms
+flashing with gold, the show of wealth and power,
+the perfume of flowers and the music of violin and flutes
+gave Margaret the impression of a dream, so sharp
+was the contrast with her own life and people in the
+South.</p>
+<p>The interior of the house was a billow of red, white, and
+blue. The President&#8217;s box was wrapped in two enormous
+silk flags with gold-fringed edges gracefully draped and
+hanging in festoons.</p>
+<p>Withers, the leader of the orchestra, was in high
+feather. He raised his baton with quick, inspired movement.
+It was for him a personal triumph, too. He had
+composed the music of a song for the occasion. It was
+dedicated to the President, and the programme announced
+that it would be rendered during the evening between the
+acts by a famous quartet, assisted by the whole company
+in chorus. The National flag would be draped about
+each singer, worn as the togas of ancient Greece and
+Rome.</p>
+<p>It was already known by the crowd that General and
+Mrs. Grant had left the city for the North and could not
+be present, but every eye was fixed on the door through
+which the President and Mrs. Lincoln would enter. It
+was the hour of his supreme triumph.</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-070.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 394px; height: 576px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 394px;'>
+THE ASSASSINATION.<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></div>
+<p>What a romance his life! The thought of it thrilled the
+crowd as they waited. A few years ago this tall, sad-faced
+man had floated down the Sangamon River into a
+rough Illinois town, ragged, penniless, friendless, alone,
+begging for work. Four years before he had entered
+Washington as President of the United States&mdash;but he
+came under cover of the night with a handful of personal
+friends, amid universal contempt for his ability and the
+loud expressed conviction of his failure from within and
+without his party. He faced a divided Nation and the
+most awful civil convulsion in history. Through it all
+he had led the Nation in safety, growing each day in
+power and fame, until to-night, amid the victorious
+shouts of millions of a Union fixed in eternal granite, he
+stood forth the idol of the people, the first great American,
+the foremost man of the world.</p>
+<p>There was a stir at the door, and the tall figure suddenly
+loomed in view of the crowd. With one impulse they
+leaped to their feet, and shout after shout shook the
+building. The orchestra was playing &#8220;Hail to the Chief!&#8221;
+but nobody heard it. They saw the Chief! They were
+crying their own welcome in music that came from the
+rhythmic beat of human hearts.</p>
+<p>As the President walked along the aisle with Mrs.
+Lincoln, accompanied by Senator Harris&#8217; daughter and
+Major Rathbone, cheer after cheer burst from the crowd.
+He turned, his face beaming with pleasure, and bowed as
+he passed.</p>
+<p>The answer of the crowd shook the building to its
+foundations, and the President paused. His dark face
+flashed with emotion as he looked over the sea of cheering
+humanity. It was a moment of supreme exaltation.
+The people had grown to know and love and trust him,
+and it was sweet. His face, lit with the responsive fires of
+emotion, was transfigured. The soul seemed to separate
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>
+itself from its dreamy, rugged dwelling-place and flash
+its inspiration from the spirit world.</p>
+<p>As around this man&#8217;s personality had gathered the
+agony and horror of war, so now about his head glowed
+and gleamed in imagination the splendours of victory.</p>
+<p>Margaret impulsively put her hand on Phil&#8217;s arm:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, how Southern he looks! How tall and dark and
+typical his whole figure!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and his traits of character even more typical,&#8221;
+said Phil. &#8220;On the surface, easy friendly ways and the
+tenderness of a woman&mdash;beneath, an iron will and lion
+heart. I like him. And what always amazes me is his
+universality. A Southerner finds in him the South, the
+Western man the West, even Charles Sumner, from
+Boston, almost loves him. You know I think he is the
+first great all-round American who ever lived in the
+White House.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President&#8217;s party had now entered the box, and as
+Mr. Lincoln took the armchair nearest the audience,
+in full view of every eye in the house, again the cheers
+rent the air. In vain Withers&#8217; baton flew, and the
+orchestra did its best. The music was drowned as in the
+roar of the sea. Again he rose and bowed and smiled,
+his face radiant with pleasure. The soul beneath those
+deep-cut lines had long pined for the sunlight. His
+love of the theatre and the humorous story were the
+protest of his heart against pain and tragedy. He stood
+there bowing to the people, the grandest, gentlest figure
+of the fiercest war of human history&mdash;a man who was
+always doing merciful things stealthily as others do
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span>
+crimes. Little sunlight had come into his life, yet to-night
+he felt that the sun of a new day in his history and
+the history of the people was already tingeing the horizon
+with glory.</p>
+<p>Back of those smiles what a story! Many a night he
+had paced back and forth in the telegraph office of the
+War Department, read its awful news of defeat, and
+alone sat down and cried over the list of the dead. Many
+a black hour his soul had seen when the honours of
+earth were forgotten and his great heart throbbed on his
+sleeve. His character had grown so evenly and silently
+with the burdens he had borne, working mighty deeds
+with such little friction, he could not know, nor could the
+crowd to whom he bowed, how deep into the core of the
+people&#8217;s life the love of him had grown.</p>
+<p>As he looked again over the surging crowd his tall
+figure seemed to straighten, erect and buoyant, with the
+new dignity of conscious triumphant leadership. He
+knew that he had come unto his own at last, and his
+brain was teeming with dreams of mercy and healing.</p>
+<p>The President resumed his seat, the tumult died away,
+and the play began amid a low hum of whispered comment
+directed at the flag-draped box. The actors struggled
+in vain to hold the attention of the audience, until finally
+Hawk, the actor playing Dundreary, determined to
+catch their ear, paused and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, that reminds me of a little story, as Mr. Lincoln
+says&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Instantly the crowd burst into a storm of applause, the
+President laughed, leaned over and spoke to his wife, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>
+the electric connection was made between the stage, the
+box, and the people.</p>
+<p>After this the play ran its smooth course, and the
+audience settled into its accustomed humour of sympathetic
+attention.</p>
+<p>In spite of the novelty of this, her first view of a theatre,
+the President fascinated Margaret. She watched the
+changing lights and shadows of his sensitive face with
+untiring interest, and the wonder of his life grew upon her
+imagination. This man who was the idol of the North
+and yet to her so purely Southern, who had come out of
+the West and yet was greater than the West or the North,
+and yet always supremely human&mdash;this man who sprang
+to his feet from the chair of State and bowed to a sorrowing
+woman with the deference of a knight, every man&#8217;s
+friend, good-natured, sensible, masterful and clear in
+intellect, strong, yet modest, kind and gentle&mdash;yes, he
+was more interesting than all the drama and romance of
+the stage!</p>
+<p>He held her imagination in a spell. Elsie, divining
+her abstraction, looked toward the President&#8217;s box and
+saw approaching it along the balcony aisle the figure of
+John Wilkes Booth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look,&#8221; she cried, touching Margaret&#8217;s arm. &#8220;There&#8217;s
+John Wilkes Booth, the actor! Isn&#8217;t he handsome?
+They say he&#8217;s in love with my chum, a senator&#8217;s daughter
+whose father hates Mr. Lincoln with perfect fury.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is handsome,&#8221; Margaret answered. &#8220;But I&#8217;d
+be afraid of him, with that raven hair and eyes shining
+like something wild.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;They say he is wild and dissipated, yet half the silly
+girls in town are in love with him. He&#8217;s as vain as a
+peacock.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Booth, accustomed to free access to the theatre, paused
+near the entrance to the box and looked deliberately over
+the great crowd, his magnetic face flushed with deep
+emotion, while his fiery inspiring eyes glittered with
+excitement.</p>
+<p>Dressed in a suit of black broadcloth of faultless fit,
+from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet he was
+physically without blemish. A figure of perfect symmetry
+and proportion, his dark eyes flashing, his marble
+forehead crowned with curling black hair, agility and
+grace stamped on every line of his being&mdash;beyond a
+doubt he was the handsomest man in America. A flutter
+of feminine excitement rippled the surface of the crowd in
+the balcony as his well-known figure caught the wandering
+eyes of the women.</p>
+<p>He turned and entered the door leading to the President&#8217;s
+box, and Margaret once more gave her attention to
+the stage.</p>
+<p>Hawk, as Dundreary, was speaking his lines and
+looking directly at the President instead of at the audience:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Society, eh? Well, I guess I know enough to turn
+you inside out, old woman, you darned old sockdologing
+man trap!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret winced at the coarse words, but the galleries
+burst into shouts of laughter that lingered in ripples and
+murmurs and the shuffling of feet.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></p>
+<p>The muffled crack of a pistol in the President&#8217;s box
+hushed the laughter for an instant.</p>
+<p>No one realized what had happened, and when the
+assassin suddenly leaped from the box, with a blood-marked
+knife flashing in his right hand, caught his foot in
+the flags and fell to his knees on the stage, many thought
+it a part of the programme, and a boy, leaning over the
+gallery rail, giggled. When Booth turned his face of
+statuesque beauty lit by eyes flashing with insane desperation
+and cried, &#8220;<i>Sic semper tyrannis</i>,&#8221; they were
+only confirmed in this impression.</p>
+<p>A sudden, piercing scream from Mrs. Lincoln, quivering,
+soul harrowing! Leaning far out of the box, from
+ashen cheeks and lips leaped the piteous cry of appeal,
+her hand pointing to the retreating figure:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The President is shot! He has killed the President!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Every heart stood still for one awful moment. The
+brain refused to record the message&mdash;and then the storm
+burst!</p>
+<p>A wild roar of helpless fury and despair! Men hurled
+themselves over the footlights in vain pursuit of the assassin.
+Already the clatter of his horse&#8217;s feet could be
+heard in the distance. A surgeon threw himself against
+the door of the box, but it had been barred within by the
+cunning hand. Another leaped on the stage, and the
+people lifted him up in their arms and over the fatal
+railing.</p>
+<p>Women began to faint, and strong men trampled
+down the weak in mad rushes from side to side.</p>
+<p>The stage in a moment was a seething mass of crazed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span>
+men, among them the actors and actresses in costumes
+and painted faces, their mortal terror shining through
+the rouge. They passed water up to the box, and some
+tried to climb up and enter it.</p>
+<p>The two hundred soldiers of the President&#8217;s guard
+suddenly burst in, and, amid screams and groans of the
+weak and injured, stormed the house with fixed bayonets,
+cursing, yelling, and shouting at the top of their voices:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Clear out! Clear out! You sons of hell!&#8221;</p>
+<p>One of them suddenly bore down with fixed bayonet
+toward Phil.</p>
+<p>Margaret shrank in terror close to his side and tremblingly
+held his arm.</p>
+<p>Elsie sprang forward, her face aflame, her eyes flashing
+fire, her little figure tense, erect, and quivering with rage:</p>
+<p>&#8220;How dare you, idiot, brute!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The soldier, brought to his senses, saw Phil in full
+captain&#8217;s uniform before him, and suddenly drew himself
+up, saluting. Phil ordered him to guard Margaret and
+Elsie for a moment, drew his sword, leaped between the
+crazed soldiers and their victims and stopped their insane
+rush.</p>
+<p>Within the box the great head lay in the surgeon&#8217;s
+arms, the blood slowly dripping down, and the tiny death
+bubbles forming on the kindly lips. They carried him
+tenderly out, and another group bore after him the unconscious
+wife. The people tore the seats from their
+fastenings and heaped them in piles to make way for the
+precious burdens.</p>
+<p>As Phil pressed forward with Margaret and Elsie
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>
+through the open door came the roar of the mob without,
+shouting its cries:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The President is shot!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Seward is murdered!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where is Grant?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where is Stanton?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;To arms! To arms!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The peal of signal guns could now be heard, the roll
+of drums and the hurried tramp of soldiers&#8217; feet. They
+marched none too soon. The mob had attacked the
+stockade holding ten thousand unarmed Confederate
+prisoners.</p>
+<p>At the corner of the block in which the theatre stood
+they seized a man who looked like a Southerner and
+hung him to the lamp-post. Two heroic policemen
+fought their way to his side and rescued him.</p>
+<p>If the temper of the people during the war had been
+convulsive, now it was insane&mdash;with one mad impulse
+and one thought&mdash;vengeance! Horror, anger, terror,
+uncertainty, each passion fanned the one animal instinct
+into fury.</p>
+<p>Through this awful night, with the lights still gleaming
+as if to mock the celebration of victory, the crowds
+swayed in impotent rage through the streets, while the
+telegraph bore on the wings of lightning the awe-inspiring
+news. Men caught it from the wires, and stood in silent
+groups weeping, and their wrath against the fallen South
+began to rise as the moaning of the sea under a coming
+storm.</p>
+<p>At dawn black clouds hung threatening on the eastern
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span>
+horizon. As the sun rose, tingeing them for a moment
+with scarlet and purple glory, Abraham Lincoln breathed
+his last.</p>
+<p>Even grim Stanton, the iron-hearted, stood by his bedside
+and through blinding tears exclaimed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now he belongs to the ages!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The deed was done. The wheel of things had moved.
+Vice-President Johnson took the oath of office, and men
+hailed him Chief; but the seat of Empire had moved
+from the White House to a little dark house on the Capitol
+hill, where dwelt an old club-footed man, alone, attended
+by a strange brown woman of sinister animal beauty and
+the restless eyes of a leopardess.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VII_THE_FRENZY_OF_A_NATION' id='VII_THE_FRENZY_OF_A_NATION'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Frenzy of a Nation</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Phil hurried through the excited crowds with
+Margaret and Elsie, left them at the hospital
+door, and ran to the War Department to report
+for duty. Already the tramp of regiments echoed down
+every great avenue.</p>
+<p>Even as he ran, his heart beat with a strange new
+stroke when he recalled the look of appeal in Margaret&#8217;s
+dark eyes as she nestled close to his side and clung to his
+arm for protection. He remembered with a smile the
+almost resistless impulse of the moment to slip his arm
+around her and assure her of safety. If he had only
+dared!</p>
+<p>Elsie begged Mrs. Cameron and Margaret to go home
+with her until the city was quiet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said the mother. &#8220;I am not afraid. Death
+has no terrors for me any longer. We will not leave
+Ben a moment now, day or night. My soul is sick with
+dread for what this awful tragedy will mean for the South!
+I can&#8217;t think of my own safety. Can any one undo this
+pardon now?&#8221; she asked anxiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure they cannot. The name on that paper
+should be mightier dead than living.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, but will it be? Do you know Mr. Johnson?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>
+Can he control Stanton? He seemed to be more powerful
+than the President himself. What will that man do
+now with those who fall into his hands.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He can do nothing with your son, rest assured.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish I knew it,&#8221; said the mother wistfully.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>A few moments after the President died on Saturday
+morning, the rain began to pour in torrents. The flags
+that flew from a thousand gilt-tipped peaks in celebration
+of victory drooped to half-mast and hung weeping around
+their staffs. The litter of burnt fireworks, limp and
+crumbling, strewed the streets, and the tri-coloured
+lanterns and balloons, hanging pathetically from their
+wires, began to fall to pieces.</p>
+<p>Never in all the history of man had such a conjunction
+of events befallen a nation. From the heights of heaven&#8217;s
+rejoicing to be suddenly hurled to the depths of hell in
+piteous helpless grief! Noon to midnight without a
+moment between. A pall of voiceless horror spread its
+shadows over the land. Nothing short of an earthquake
+or the sound of the archangel&#8217;s trumpet could have produced
+the sense of helpless consternation, the black and
+speechless despair. The people read their papers in tears.
+The morning meal was untouched. By no other single
+feat could death have carried such peculiar horror to
+every home. Around this giant figure the heartstrings of
+the people had been unconsciously knit. Even his political
+enemies had come to love him.</p>
+<p>Above all, in just this moment he was the incarnation of
+the Triumphant Union on the altar of whose life every
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
+house had laid the offering of its first-born. The tragedy
+was stupefying&mdash;it was unthinkable&mdash;it was the mockery
+of Fate!</p>
+<p>Men walked the streets of the cities, dazed with the
+sense of blind grief. Every note of music and rejoicing
+became a dirge. All business ceased. Every wheel in
+every mill stopped. The roar of the great city was hushed,
+and Greed for a moment forgot his cunning.</p>
+<p>The army only moved with swifter spring, tightening
+its mighty grip on the throat of the bleeding prostrate
+South.</p>
+<p>As the day wore on its gloomy hours, and men began to
+find speech, they spoke to each other at first in low tones
+of Fate, of Life, of Death, of Immortality, of God&mdash;and
+then as grief found words the measureless rage of baffled
+strength grew slowly to madness.</p>
+<p>On every breeze from the North came the deep-muttered
+curses.</p>
+<p>Easter Sunday dawned after the storm, clear and
+beautiful in a flood of glorious sunshine. The churches
+were thronged as never in their history. All had been
+decorated for the double celebration of Easter and the
+triumph of the Union. The preachers had prepared
+sermons pitched in the highest anthem key of victory&mdash;victory
+over death and the grave of Calvary, and victory
+for the Nation opening a future of boundless glory.
+The churches were labyrinths of flowers, and around
+every pulpit and from every Gothic arch hung the red,
+white, and blue flags of the Republic.</p>
+<p>And now, as if to mock this gorgeous pageant, Death
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span>
+had in the night flung a black mantle over every flag and
+wound a strangling web of crape round every Easter
+flower.</p>
+<p>When the preachers faced the silent crowds before
+them, looking into the faces of fathers, mothers, brothers,
+sisters, and lovers whose dear ones had been slain in
+battle or died in prison pens, the tide of grief and rage
+rose and swept them from their feet! The Easter sermon
+was laid aside. Fifty thousand Christian ministers,
+stunned and crazed by insane passion, standing before the
+altars of God, hurled into the broken hearts before them
+the wildest cries of vengeance&mdash;cries incoherent, chaotic,
+unreasoning, blind in their awful fury!</p>
+<p>The pulpits of New York and Brooklyn led in the madness.</p>
+<p>Next morning old Stoneman read his paper with a cold
+smile playing about his big stern mouth, while his furrowed
+brow flushed with triumph, as again and again he
+exclaimed: &#8220;At last! At last!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Even Beecher, who had just spoken his generous words
+at Fort Sumter, declared:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never while time lasts, while heaven lasts, while hell
+rocks and groans, will it be forgotten that Slavery, by its
+minions, slew him, and slaying him made manifest its
+whole nature. A man cannot be bred in its tainted air.
+I shall find saints in hell sooner than I shall find true
+manhood under its accursed influences. The breeding-ground
+of such monsters must be utterly and forever
+destroyed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dr. Stephen Tyng said:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;The leaders of this rebellion deserve no pity from any
+human being. Now let them go. Some other land must
+be their home. Their property is justly forfeited to the
+Nation they have attempted to destroy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>In big black-faced type stood Dr. Charles S. Robinson&#8217;s
+bitter words:</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is the earliest reply which chivalry makes to our
+forbearance. Talk to me no more of the same race, of
+the same blood. He is no brother of mine and of no race
+of mine who crowns the barbarism of treason with the
+murder of an unarmed husband in the sight of his wife.
+On the villains who led this rebellion let justice fall
+swift and relentless. Death to every traitor of the South!
+Pursue them one by one! Let every door be closed upon
+them and judgment follow swift and implacable as death!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dr. Theodore Cuyler exclaimed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is no time to talk of leniency and conciliation!
+I say before God, make no terms with rebellion short of
+extinction. Booth wielding the assassin&#8217;s weapon is
+but the embodiment of the bowie-knife barbarism of a
+slaveholding oligarchy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dr. J. P. Thompson said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Blot every Southern State from the map. Strip every
+rebel of property and citizenship, and send them into
+exile beggared and infamous outcasts.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Bishop Littlejohn, in his impassioned appeal, declared:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The deed is worthy of the Southern cause which was
+conceived in sin, brought forth in iniquity, and consummated
+in crime. This murderous hand is the same hand
+which lashed the slave&#8217;s bared back, struck down New
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>
+England&#8217;s senator for daring to speak, lifted the torch of
+rebellion, slaughtered in cold blood its thousands, and
+starved our helpless prisoners. Its end is not martyrdom,
+but dishonour.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Bishop Simpson said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let every man who was a member of Congress and
+aided this rebellion be brought to speedy punishment. Let
+every officer educated at public expense, who turned his
+sword against his country, be doomed to a traitor&#8217;s death!&#8221;</p>
+<p>With the last note of this wild music lingering in the
+old Commoner&#8217;s soul, he sat as if dreaming, laughed
+cynically, turned to the brown woman and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My speeches have not been lost after all. Prepare
+dinner for six. My cabinet will meet here to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>While the press was reëchoing these sermons, gathering
+strength as they were caught and repeated in every
+town, village, and hamlet in the North, the funeral procession
+started westward. It passed in grandeur through
+the great cities on its journey of one thousand six hundred
+miles to the tomb. By day, by night, by dawn, by sunlight,
+by twilight, and lit by solemn torches, millions of
+silent men and women looked on his dead face. Around
+the person of this tall, lonely man, rugged, yet full of
+sombre dignity and spiritual beauty, the thoughts, hopes,
+dreams, and ideals of the people had gathered in four
+years of agony and death, until they had come to feel
+their own hearts beat in his breast and their own life
+throb in his life. The assassin&#8217;s bullet had crashed into
+their own brains, and torn their souls and bodies asunder.</p>
+<p>The masses were swept from their moorings, and reason
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span>
+destroyed. All historic perspective was lost. Our first
+assassination, there was no precedent for comparison. It
+had been over two hundred years in the world&#8217;s history
+since the last murder of a great ruler, when William of
+Orange fell.</p>
+<p>On the day set for the public funeral twenty million
+people bowed at the same hour.</p>
+<p>When the procession reached New York the streets
+were lined with a million people. Not a sound could be
+heard save the tramp of soldiers&#8217; feet and the muffled
+cry of the dirge. Though on every foot of earth stood
+a human being, the silence of the desert and of death!
+The Nation&#8217;s living heroes rode in that procession, and
+passed without a sign from the people.</p>
+<p>Four years ago he drove down Broadway as President-elect,
+unnoticed and with soldiers in disguise attending
+him lest the mob should stone him.</p>
+<p>To-day, at the mention of his name in the churches, the
+preachers&#8217; voices in prayer wavered and broke into silence
+while strong men among the crowd burst into sobs.
+Flags flew at half-mast from their steeples, and their bells
+tolled in grief.</p>
+<p>Every house that flew but yesterday its banner of victory
+was shrouded in mourning. The flags and pennants
+of a thousand ships in the harbour drooped at half-mast,
+and from every staff in the city streamed across the sky the
+black mists of crape like strange meteors in the troubled
+heavens.</p>
+<p>For three days every theatre, school, court, bank, shop,
+and mill was closed.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></p>
+<p>And with muttered curses men looked Southward.</p>
+<p>Across Broadway the cortège passed under a huge
+transparency on which appeared the words:</p>
+<div class='ce' style=' font-variant:small-caps;'>
+<p>&#8220;A Nation bowed in grief</p>
+<p>Will rise in might to exterminate</p>
+<p>The leaders of this accursed Rebellion.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Farther along swung the black-draped banner:</p>
+<div class='ce' style=' font-variant:small-caps;'>
+<p>&#8220;Justice to Traitors</p>
+<p>is</p>
+<p>Mercy to the People.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Another flapped its grim message:</p>
+<div class='ce' style=' font-variant:small-caps;'>
+<p>&#8220;The Barbarism of Slavery.</p>
+<p>Can Barbarism go Further?&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Across the Ninth Regiment Armoury, in gigantic letters,
+were the words:</p>
+<div class='ce' style=' font-variant:small-caps;'>
+<p>&#8220;Time for Weeping</p>
+<p>But Vengeance is not Sleeping!&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>When the procession reached Buffalo, the house of
+Millard Fillmore was mobbed because the ex-President,
+stricken on a bed of illness, had neglected to drape his
+house in mourning. The procession passed to Springfield
+through miles of bowed heads dumb with grief. The
+plough stopped in the furrow, the smith dropped his hammer,
+the carpenter his plane, the merchant closed his
+door, the clink of coin ceased, and over all hung brooding
+silence with low-muttered curses, fierce and incoherent.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></p>
+<p>No man who walked the earth ever passed to his tomb
+through such a storm of human tears. The pageants of
+Alexander, Cæsar, and Wellington were tinsel to this.
+Nor did the spirit of Napoleon, the Corsican Lieutenant
+of Artillery who once presided over a congress of kings
+whom he had conquered, look down on its like even in
+France.</p>
+<p>And now that its pomp was done and its memory but
+bitterness and ashes, but one man knew exactly what he
+wanted and what he meant to do. Others were stunned
+by the blow. But the cold eyes of the Great Commoner,
+leader of leaders, sparkled, and his grim lips
+smiled. From him not a word of praise or fawning
+sorrow for the dead. Whatever he might be, he was
+not a liar: when he hated, he hated.</p>
+<p>The drooping flags, the city&#8217;s black shrouds, processions,
+torches, silent seas of faces and bared heads, the
+dirges and the bells, the dim-lit churches, wailing organs,
+fierce invectives from the altar, and the perfume of flowers
+piled in heaps by silent hearts&mdash;to all these was he heir.</p>
+<p>And more&mdash;the fierce unwritten, unspoken, and unspeakable
+horrors of the war itself, its passions, its
+cruelties, its hideous crimes and sufferings, the wailing of
+its women, the graves of its men&mdash;all these now were his.</p>
+<p>The new President bowed to the storm. In one breath
+he promised to fulfil the plans of Lincoln. In the next
+he, too, breathed threats of vengeance.</p>
+<p>The edict went forth for the arrest of General Lee.</p>
+<p>Would Grant, the Commanding General of the Army,
+dare protest? There were those who said that if Lee
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>
+were arrested and Grant&#8217;s plighted word at Appomattox
+smirched, the silent soldier would not only protest, but
+draw his sword, if need be, to defend his honour and
+the honour of the Nation. Yet&mdash;would he dare? It
+remained to be seen.</p>
+<p>The jails were now packed with Southern men, taken
+unarmed from their homes. The old Capitol Prison was
+full, and every cell of every grated building in the city,
+and they were filling the rooms of the Capitol itself.</p>
+<p>Margaret, hurrying from the market in the early morning
+with her flowers, was startled to find her mother
+bowed in anguish over a paragraph in the morning paper.</p>
+<p>She rose and handed it to the daughter, who read:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>&#8220;Dr. Richard Cameron, of South Carolina, arrived in
+Washington and was placed in jail last night, charged with
+complicity in the murder of President Lincoln. It was
+discovered that Jeff Davis spent the night at his home in
+Piedmont, under the pretence of needing medical attention.
+Beyond all doubt, Booth, the assassin, merely acted under
+orders from the Arch Traitor. May the gallows have a rich
+and early harvest!&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+<p>Margaret tremblingly wound her arms around her
+mother&#8217;s neck. No words broke the pitiful silence&mdash;only
+blinding tears and broken sobs.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></p>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>Book II&mdash;The Revolution</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='I_THE_FIRST_LADY_OF_THE_LAND' id='I_THE_FIRST_LADY_OF_THE_LAND'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The First Lady of the Land</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The little house on the Capitol hill now became
+the centre of fevered activity. This house,
+selected by its grim master to become the
+executive mansion of the Nation, was perhaps the most
+modest structure ever chosen for such high uses.</p>
+<p>It stood, a small, two-story brick building, in an unpretentious
+street. Seven windows opened on the front with
+black solid-panelled shutters. The front parlour was
+scantily furnished. A huge mirror covered one wall, and
+on the other hung a life-size oil portrait of Stoneman,
+and between the windows were a portrait of Washington
+Irving and a picture of a nun. Among his many charities
+he had always given liberally to an orphanage
+conducted by a Roman Catholic sisterhood.</p>
+<p>The back parlour, whose single window looked out on a
+small garden, he had fitted up as a library, with leather-upholstered
+furniture, a large desk and table, and scattered
+on the mantel and about its walls were the photographs
+of his personal friends and a few costly prints.
+This room he used as his executive office, and no person
+was allowed to enter it without first stating his business or
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>
+presenting a petition to the tawny brown woman with
+restless eyes who sat in state in the front parlour and received
+his visitors. The books in their cases gave evidence
+of little use for many years, although their character indicated
+the tastes of a man of culture. His Pliny, Cæsar,
+Cicero, Tacitus, Sophocles, and Homer had evidently
+been read by a man who knew their beauties and loved
+them for their own sake.</p>
+<p>This house was now the Mecca of the party in power
+and the storm-centre of the forces destined to shape the
+Nation&#8217;s life. Senators, representatives, politicians of
+low and high degree, artists, correspondents, foreign ministers,
+and cabinet officers hurried to acknowledge their
+fealty to the uncrowned king, and hail the strange brown
+woman who held the keys of his house as the first lady of
+the land.</p>
+<p>When Charles Sumner called, a curious thing happened.
+By a code agreed on between them, Lydia Brown touched
+an electric signal which informed the old Commoner of
+his appearance. Stoneman hobbled to the folding-doors
+and watched through the slight opening the manner in
+which the icy senator greeted the negress whom he was
+compelled to meet thus as his social equal, though she was
+always particular to pose as the superior of all who bowed
+the knee to the old man whose house she kept.</p>
+<p>Sumner at this time was supposed to be the most powerful
+man in Congress. It was a harmless fiction which
+pleased him, and at which Stoneman loved to laugh.</p>
+<p>The senator from Massachusetts had just made a
+speech in Boston expounding the &#8220;Equality of Man,&#8221; yet
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>
+he could not endure personal contact with a negro. He
+would go secretly miles out of the way to avoid it.</p>
+<p>Stoneman watched him slowly and daintily approach
+this negress and touch her jewelled hand gingerly with
+the tips of his classic fingers as if she were a toad. Convulsed,
+he scrambled back to his desk and hugged himself
+while he listened to the flow of Lydia&#8217;s condescending
+patronage in the next room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This world&#8217;s too good a thing to lose!&#8221; he chuckled.
+&#8220;I think I&#8217;ll live always.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When Sumner left, the hour for dinner had arrived,
+and by special invitation two men dined with him.</p>
+<p>On his right sat an army officer who had been dismissed
+from the service, a victim of the mania for gambling. His
+ruddy face, iron-gray hair, and jovial mien indicated that
+he enjoyed life in spite of troubles.</p>
+<p>There were no clubs in Washington at this time except
+the regular gambling-houses, of which there were more
+than one hundred in full blast.</p>
+<p>Stoneman was himself a gambler, and spent a part of
+almost every night at Hall &amp; Pemberton&#8217;s Faro Palace
+on Pennsylvania Avenue, a place noted for its famous
+restaurant. It was here that he met Colonel Howle and
+learned to like him. He was a man of talent, cool and
+audacious, and a liar of such singular fluency that he
+quite captivated the old Commoner&#8217;s imagination.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Upon my soul, Howle,&#8221; he declared soon after they
+met, &#8220;you made the mistake of your life going into the
+army. You&#8217;re a born politician. You&#8217;re what I call a
+natural liar, just as a horse is a pacer, a dog a setter. You
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>
+lie without effort, with an ease and grace that excels all
+art. Had you gone into politics, you could easily have
+been Secretary of State, to say nothing of the vice-presidency.
+I would say President but for the fact that
+men of the highest genius never attain it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>From that moment Colonel Howle had become his
+charmed henchman. Stoneman owned this man body
+and soul, not merely because he had befriended him when
+he was in trouble and friendless, but because the colonel
+recognized the power of the leader&#8217;s daring spirit and
+revolutionary genius.</p>
+<p>On his left sat a negro of perhaps forty years, a man of
+charming features for a mulatto, who had evidently inherited
+the full physical characteristics of the Aryan race,
+while his dark yellowish eyes beneath his heavy brows
+glowed with the brightness of the African jungle. It
+was impossible to look at his superb face, with its large,
+finely chiselled lips and massive nose, his big neck and
+broad shoulders, and watch his eyes gleam beneath the
+projecting forehead, without seeing pictures of the primeval
+forest. &#8220;The head of a Cæsar and the eyes of
+the jungle&#8221; was the phrase coined by an artist who
+painted his portrait.</p>
+<p>His hair was black and glossy and stood in dishevelled
+profusion on his head between a kink and a curl. He was
+an orator of great power, and stirred a negro audience as
+by magic.</p>
+<p>Lydia Brown had called Stoneman&#8217;s attention to this
+man, Silas Lynch, and induced the statesman to send him
+to college. He had graduated with credit and had entered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
+the Methodist ministry. In his preaching to the freedmen
+he had already become a marked man. No house could
+hold his audiences.</p>
+<p>As he stepped briskly into the dining-room and passed
+the brown woman, a close observer might have seen him
+suddenly press her hand and caught her sly answering
+smile, but the old man waiting at the head of the table
+saw nothing.</p>
+<p>The woman took her seat opposite Stoneman and presided
+over this curious group with the easy assurance of
+conscious power. Whatever her real position, she knew
+how to play the role she had chosen to assume.</p>
+<p>No more curious or sinister figure ever cast a shadow
+across the history of a great nation than did this mulatto
+woman in the most corrupt hour of American life. The
+grim old man who looked into her sleek tawny face and
+followed her catlike eyes was steadily gripping the Nation
+by the throat. Did he aim to make this woman the
+arbiter of its social life, and her ethics the limit of its
+moral laws?</p>
+<p>Even the white satellite who sat opposite Lynch flushed
+for a moment as the thought flashed through his brain.</p>
+<p>The old cynic, who alone knew his real purpose, was in
+his most genial mood to-night, and the grim lines of his
+powerful face relaxed into something like a smile as they
+ate and chatted and told good stories.</p>
+<p>Lynch watched him with keen interest. He knew his
+history and character, and had built on his genius a
+brilliant scheme of life.</p>
+<p>This man who meant to become the dictator of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>
+Republic had come from the humblest early conditions.
+His father was a worthless character, from whom he had
+learned the trade of a shoemaker, but his mother, a
+woman of vigorous intellect and indomitable will, had
+succeeded in giving her lame boy a college education. He
+had early sworn to be a man of wealth, and to this purpose
+he had throttled the dreams and ideals of a wayward
+imagination.</p>
+<p>His hope of great wealth had not been realized. His
+iron mills in Pennsylvania had been destroyed by Lee&#8217;s
+army. He had developed the habit of gambling, which
+brought its train of extravagant habits, tastes, and inevitable
+debts. In his vigorous manhood, in spite of his
+lameness, he had kept a pack of hounds and a stable of
+fine horses. He had used his skill in shoemaking to construct
+a set of stirrups to fit his lame feet, and had become
+an expert hunter to hounds.</p>
+<p>One thing he never neglected&mdash;to be in his seat in the
+House of Representatives and wear its royal crown of
+leadership, sick or well, day or night. The love of power
+was the breath of his nostrils, and his ambitions had at
+one time been boundless. His enormous power to-day
+was due to the fact that he had given up all hope of office
+beyond the robes of the king of his party. He had been
+offered a cabinet position by the elder Harrison and for
+some reason it had been withdrawn. He had been promised
+a place in Lincoln&#8217;s cabinet, but some mysterious
+power had snatched it away. He was the one great man
+who had now no ambition for which to trim and fawn
+and lie, and for the very reason that he had abolished
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>
+himself he was the most powerful leader who ever walked
+the halls of Congress.</p>
+<p>His contempt for public opinion was boundless. Bold,
+original, scornful of advice, of all the men who ever lived
+in our history he was the one man born to rule in the
+chaos which followed the assassination of the chief
+magistrate.</p>
+<p>Audacity was stamped in every line of his magnificent
+head. His choicest curses were for the cowards of his
+own party before whose blanched faces he shouted out
+the hidden things until they sank back in helpless silence
+and dismay. His speech was curt, his humour sardonic,
+his wit biting, cruel, and coarse.</p>
+<p>The incarnate soul of revolution, he despised convention
+and ridiculed respectability.</p>
+<p>There was but one weak spot in his armour&mdash;and the
+world never suspected it: the consuming passion with
+which he loved his two children. This was the side of his
+nature he had hidden from the eyes of man. A refined
+egotism, this passion, perhaps&mdash;for he meant to live his
+own life over in them&mdash;yet it was the one utterly human
+and lovable thing about him. And if his public policy was
+one of stupendous avarice, this dream of millions of confiscated
+wealth he meant to seize, it was not for himself
+but for his children.</p>
+<p>As he looked at Howle and Lynch seated in his library
+after dinner, with his great plans seething in his brain,
+his eyes were flashing, intense, and fiery, yet without
+colour&mdash;simply two centres of cold light.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gentlemen,&#8221; he said at length. &#8220;I am going to ask
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>
+you to undertake for the Government, the Nation, and
+yourselves a dangerous and important mission. I say
+yourselves, because, in spite of all our beautiful lies, self
+is the centre of all human action. Mr. Lincoln has fortunately
+gone to his reward&mdash;fortunately for him and for
+his country. His death was necessary to save his life.
+He was a useful man living, more useful dead. Our
+party has lost its first President, but gained a god&mdash;why
+mourn?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We will recover from our grief,&#8221; said Howle.</p>
+<p>The old man went on, ignoring the interruption:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Things have somehow come my way. I am almost
+persuaded late in life that the gods love me. The insane
+fury of the North against the South for a crime which they
+were the last people on earth to dream of committing is,
+of course, a power to be used&mdash;but with caution. The first
+execution of a Southern leader on such an idiotic charge
+would produce a revolution of sentiment. The people
+are an aggregation of hysterical fools.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought you favoured the execution of the leaders
+of the rebellion?&#8221; said Lynch with surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did, but it is too late. Had they been tried by drum-head
+court-martial and shot dead red-handed as they
+stood on the field in their uniforms, all would have been
+well. Now sentiment is too strong. Grant showed his
+teeth to Stanton and he backed down from Lee&#8217;s arrest.
+Sherman refused to shake hands with Stanton on the
+grandstand the day his army passed in review, and it&#8217;s a
+wonder he didn&#8217;t knock him down. Sherman was denounced
+as a renegade and traitor for giving Joseph E.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
+Johnston the terms Lincoln ordered him to give. Lincoln
+dead, his terms are treason! Yet had he lived, we should
+have been called upon to applaud his mercy and patriotism.
+How can a man live in this world and keep his
+face straight?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I believe God permitted Mr. Lincoln&#8217;s death to give
+the great Commoner, the Leader of Leaders, the right of
+way,&#8221; cried Lynch with enthusiasm.</p>
+<p>The old man smiled. With all his fierce spirit he
+was as susceptible to flattery as a woman&mdash;far more so
+than the sleek brown woman who carried the keys of his
+house.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The man at the other end of the avenue, who pretends
+to be President, in reality an alien of the conquered province
+of Tennessee, is pressing Lincoln&#8217;s plan of &#8216;restoring&#8217;
+the Union. He has organized State governments in the
+South, and their senators and representatives will appear
+at the Capitol in December for admission to Congress.
+He thinks they will enter&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man broke into a low laugh and rubbed his
+hands.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My full plans are not for discussion at this juncture.
+Suffice it to say, I mean to secure the future of our party
+and the safety of this nation. The one thing on which
+the success of my plan absolutely depends is the confiscation
+of the millions of acres of land owned by the white
+people of the South and its division among the negroes
+and those who fought and suffered in this war&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old Commoner paused, pursed his lips, and fumbled
+his hands a moment, the nostrils of his eagle-beaked
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>
+nose breathing rapacity, sensuality throbbing in his
+massive jaws, and despotism frowning from his heavy
+brows.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stanton will probably add to the hilarity of nations,
+and amuse himself by hanging a few rebels,&#8221; he went on,
+&#8220;but we will address ourselves to serious work. All men
+have their price, including the present company, with due
+apologies to the speaker&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Howle&#8217;s eyes danced, and he licked his lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I haven&#8217;t suffered in this war, who has?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your reward will not be in accordance with your
+sufferings. It will be based on the efficiency with which
+you obey my orders. Read that&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He handed to him a piece of paper on which he had
+scrawled his secret instructions.</p>
+<p>Another he gave to Lynch.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hand them back to me when you read them, and I
+will burn them. These instructions are not to pass the lips
+of any man until the time is ripe&mdash;four bare walls are not
+to hear them whispered.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Both men handed to the leader the slips of paper
+simultaneously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are we agreed, gentlemen?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perfectly,&#8221; answered Howle.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your word is law to me, sir,&#8221; said Lynch.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you will draw on me personally for your expenses,
+and leave for the South within forty-eight hours.
+I wish your reports delivered to me two weeks before the
+meeting of Congress.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As Lynch passed through the hall on his way to the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>
+door, the brown woman bade him good-night and pressed
+into his hand a letter.</p>
+<p>As his yellow fingers closed on the missive, his eyes
+flashed for a moment with catlike humour.</p>
+<p>The woman&#8217;s face wore the mask of a sphinx.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='II_SWEETHEARTS' id='II_SWEETHEARTS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Sweethearts</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When the first shock of horror at her husband&#8217;s
+peril passed, it left a strange new light in Mrs.
+Cameron&#8217;s eyes.</p>
+<p>The heritage of centuries of heroic blood from the martyrs
+of old Scotland began to flash its inspiration from the
+past. Her heart beat with the unconscious life of men
+and women who had stood in the stocks, and walked in
+chains to the stake with songs on their lips.</p>
+<p>The threat against the life of Doctor Cameron had not
+only stirred her martyr blood: it had roused the latent
+heroism of a beautiful girlhood. To her he had ever
+been the lover and the undimmed hero of her girlish
+dreams. She spent whole hours locked in her room
+alone. Margaret knew that she was on her knees. She
+always came forth with shining face and with soft words
+on her lips.</p>
+<p>She struggled for two months in vain efforts to obtain a
+single interview with him, or to obtain a copy of the
+charges. Doctor Cameron had been placed in the old
+Capitol Prison, already crowded to the utmost. He was
+in delicate health, and so ill when she had left home he
+could not accompany her to Richmond.</p>
+<p>Not a written or spoken word was allowed to pass
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>
+those prison doors. She could communicate with him
+only through the officers in charge. Every message from
+him was the same. &#8220;I love you always. Do not worry.
+Go home the moment you can leave Ben. I fear the
+worst at Piedmont.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When he had sent this message, he would sit down and
+write the truth in a little diary he kept:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Another day of anguish. How long, O Lord? Just
+one touch of her hand, one last pressure of her lips, and I
+am content. I have no desire to live&mdash;I am tired.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The officers repeated the verbal messages, but they
+made no impression on Mrs. Cameron. By a mental
+telepathy which had always linked her life with his her
+soul had passed those prison bars. If he had written the
+pitiful record with a dagger&#8217;s point on her heart, she
+could not have felt it more keenly.</p>
+<p>At times overwhelmed, she lay prostrate and sobbed
+in half-articulate cries. And then from the silence and
+mystery of the spirit world in which she felt the beat of
+the heart of Eternal Love would come again the strange
+peace that passeth understanding. She would rise and
+go forth to her task with a smile.</p>
+<p>In July she saw Mrs. Surratt taken from this old
+Capitol Prison to be hung with Payne, Herold, and Atzerodt
+for complicity in the assassination. The military
+commission before whom this farce of justice was enacted,
+suspicious of the testimony of the perjured wretches
+who had sworn her life away, had filed a memorandum
+with their verdict asking the President for mercy.</p>
+<p>President Johnson never saw this memorandum. It
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
+was secretly removed in the War Department, and only
+replaced after he had signed the death warrant.</p>
+<p>In vain Annie Surratt, the weeping daughter, flung
+herself on the steps of the White House on the fatal day,
+begging and praying to see the President. She could
+not believe they would allow her mother to be murdered
+in the face of a recommendation of mercy. The fatal
+hour struck at last, and the girl left the White House with
+set eyes and blanched face, muttering incoherent curses.</p>
+<p>The Chief Magistrate sat within, unconscious of the
+hideous tragedy that was being enacted in his name.
+When he discovered the infamy by which he had been
+made the executioner of an innocent woman, he made his
+first demand that Edwin M. Stanton resign from his
+cabinet as Secretary of War. And for the first time in
+the history of America, a cabinet officer waived the question
+of honour and refused to resign.</p>
+<p>With a shudder and blush of shame, strong men saw
+that day the executioner gather the ropes tightly three
+times around the dress of an innocent American mother
+and bind her ankles with cords. She fainted and sank
+backward upon the attendants, the poor limbs yielding
+at last to the mortal terror of death. But they propped
+her up and sprung the fatal trap.</p>
+<p>A feeling of uncertainty and horror crept over the city
+and the Nation, as rumours of the strange doings of the
+&#8220;Bureau of Military Justice,&#8221; with its secret factory of
+testimony and powers of tampering with verdicts, began
+to find their way in whispered stories among the people.</p>
+<p>Public opinion, however, had as yet no power of adjustment.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
+It was an hour of lapse to tribal insanity.
+Things had gone wrong. The demand for a scapegoat,
+blind, savage, and unreasoning, had not spent itself. The
+Government could do anything as yet, and the people
+would applaud.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cameron had tried in vain to gain a hearing before
+the President. Each time she was directed to apply
+to Mr. Stanton. She refused to attempt to see him, and
+again turned to Elsie for help. She had learned that the
+same witnesses who had testified against Mrs. Surratt
+were being used to convict Doctor Cameron, and her
+heart was sick with fear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ask your father,&#8221; she pleaded, &#8220;to write President
+Johnson a letter in my behalf. Whatever his politics,
+he can&#8217;t be <i>your</i> father and not be good at heart.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie paled for a moment. It was the one request she
+had dreaded. She thought of her father and Stanton
+with dread. How far he was supporting the Secretary
+of War she could only vaguely guess. He rarely spoke of
+politics to her, much as he loved her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll try, Mrs. Cameron,&#8221; she faltered. &#8220;My father
+is in town to-day and takes dinner with us before he leaves
+for Pennsylvania to-night. I&#8217;ll go at once.&#8221;</p>
+<p>With fear, and yet boldly, she went straight home to
+present her request. She knew he was a man who
+never cherished small resentments, however cruel and
+implacable might be his public policies. And yet she
+dreaded to put it to the test.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Father, I&#8217;ve a very important request to make of
+you,&#8221; she said gravely.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, my child, you need not be so solemn. What
+is it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve some friends in great distress&mdash;Mrs. Cameron, of
+South Carolina, and her daughter Margaret.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Friends of yours?&#8221; he asked with an incredulous
+smile. &#8220;Where on earth did you find them?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;In the hospital, of course. Mrs. Cameron is not allowed
+to see her husband, who has been here in jail for
+over two months. He cannot write to her, nor can he
+receive a letter from her. He is on trial for his life, is ill
+and helpless, and is not allowed to know the charges
+against him, while hired witnesses and detectives have
+broken open his house, searched his papers, and are ransacking
+heaven and earth to convict him of a crime of
+which he never dreamed. It&#8217;s a shame. You don&#8217;t approve
+of such things, I know?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the use of my expressing an opinion when you
+have already settled it?&#8221; he answered good-humouredly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You <i>don&#8217;t</i> approve of such injustice?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not, my child. Stanton&#8217;s frantic efforts to
+hang a lot of prominent Southern men for complicity in
+Booth&#8217;s crime is sheer insanity. Nobody who has any
+sense believes them guilty. As a politician I use popular
+clamour for my purposes, but I am not an idiot. When
+I go gunning, I never use a popgun or hunt small game.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you will write the President a letter asking that
+they be allowed to see Doctor Cameron?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man frowned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Think, father, if you were in jail and friendless, and I
+were trying to see you&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Tut, tut, my dear, it&#8217;s not that I am unwilling&mdash;I was
+only thinking of the unconscious humour of <i>my</i> making a
+request of the man who at present accidentally occupies
+the White House. Of all the men on earth, this alien
+from the province of Tennessee! But I&#8217;ll do it for you.
+When did you ever know me to deny my help to a weak
+man or woman in distress?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never, father. I was sure you would do it,&#8221; she
+answered warmly.</p>
+<p>He wrote the letter at once and handed it to her.</p>
+<p>She bent and kissed him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t tell you how glad I am to know that you have
+no part in such injustice.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You should not have believed me such a fool, but I&#8217;ll
+forgive you for the kiss. Run now with this letter to your
+rebel friends, you little traitor! Wait a minute&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He shuffled to his feet, placed his hand tenderly on her
+head, and stooped and kissed the shining hair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wonder if you know how I love you? How I&#8217;ve
+dreamed of your future? I may not see you every day
+as I wish; I&#8217;m absorbed in great affairs. But more and
+more I think of you and Phil. I&#8217;ll have a big surprise
+for you both some day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your love is all I ask,&#8221; she answered simply.</p>
+<p>Within an hour, Mrs. Cameron found herself before
+the new President. The letter had opened the door as
+by magic. She poured out her story with impetuous
+eloquence while Mr. Johnson listened in uneasy silence.
+His ruddy face, his hesitating manner, and restless eyes
+were in striking contrast to the conscious power of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>
+tall dark man who had listened so tenderly and sympathetically
+to her story of Ben but a few weeks before.</p>
+<p>The President asked:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you seen Mr. Stanton?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have seen him once,&#8221; she cried with sudden passion.
+&#8220;It is enough. If that man were God on His throne, I
+would swear allegiance to the devil and fight him!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President lifted his eyebrows and his lips twitched
+with a smile:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shouldn&#8217;t say that your spirits are exactly drooping!
+I&#8217;d like to be near and hear you make that remark to the
+distinguished Secretary of War.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you grant my prayer?&#8221; she pleaded.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will consider the matter,&#8221; he promised evasively.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cameron&#8217;s heart sank.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. President,&#8221; she cried bitterly, &#8220;I have felt sure
+that I had but to see you face to face and you could not
+deny me. Surely it is but justice that he have the right
+to see his loved ones, to consult with counsel, to know the
+charges against him, and defend his life when attacked in
+his poverty and ruin by all the power of a mighty government?
+He is feeble and broken in health and suffering
+from wounds received carrying the flag of the Union to
+victory in Mexico. Whatever his errors of judgment in
+this war, it is a shame that a Nation for which he once
+bared his breast in battle should treat him as an outlaw
+without a trial.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must remember, madam,&#8221; interrupted the
+President, &#8220;that these are extraordinary times, and that
+popular clamour, however unjust, will make itself felt
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span>
+and must be heeded by those in power. I am sorry for
+you, and I trust it may be possible for me to grant your
+request.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I wish it now,&#8221; she urged. &#8220;He sends me word
+I must go home. I can&#8217;t leave without seeing him. I
+will die first.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She drew closer and continued in throbbing tones:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. President, you are a native Carolinian&mdash;you are
+of Scotch Covenanter blood. You are of my own people
+of the great past, whose tears and sufferings are our common
+glory and birthright. Come, you must hear me&mdash;I
+will take no denial. Give me now the order to see my
+husband!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The President hesitated, struggling with deep emotion,
+called his secretary, and gave the order.</p>
+<p>As she hurried away with Elsie, who insisted on accompanying
+her to the jail door, the girl said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Cameron, I fear you are without money. You
+must let me help you until you can return it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are the dearest little heart I&#8217;ve met in all the
+world, I think sometimes,&#8221; said the older woman, looking
+at her tenderly. &#8220;I wonder how I can ever pay you for
+half you&#8217;ve done already.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The doing of it has been its own reward,&#8221; was the
+soft reply. &#8220;May I help you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I need it, yes. But I trust it will not be necessary.
+I still have a little store of gold Doctor Cameron was wise
+enough to hoard during the war. I brought half of it
+with me when I left home, and we buried the rest. I hope
+to find it on my return. And if we can save the twenty
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>
+bales of cotton we have hidden we shall be relieved of
+want.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m ashamed of my country when I think of such
+ignoble methods as have been used against Doctor
+Cameron. My father is indignant, too.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The last sentence Elsie spoke with eager girlish
+pride.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am very grateful to your father for his letter. I am
+sorry he has left the city before I could meet and thank
+him personally. You must tell him for me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At the jail the order of the President was not honoured
+for three hours, and Mrs. Cameron paced the street in
+angry impatience at first and then in dull despair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you think that man Stanton would dare defy the
+President?&#8221; she asked anxiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said Elsie, &#8220;but he is delaying as long as possible
+as an act of petty tyranny.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At last the messenger arrived from the War Department
+permitting an order of the Chief Magistrate of the
+nation, the Commander-in-Chief of its Army and Navy,
+to be executed.</p>
+<p>The grated door swung on its heavy hinges, and the
+wife and mother lay sobbing in the arms of the lover of
+her youth.</p>
+<p>For two hours they poured into each other&#8217;s hearts the
+story of their sorrows and struggles during the six fateful
+months that had passed. When she would return from
+every theme back to his danger, he would laugh her fears
+to scorn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, my dear, I&#8217;m as innocent as a babe. Mr.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span>
+Davis was suffering from erysipelas, and I kept him in
+my house that night to relieve his pain. It will all blow
+over. I&#8217;m happy now that I have seen you. Ben will
+be up in a few days. You must return at once. You
+have no idea of the wild chaos at home. I left Jake in
+charge. I have implicit faith in him, but there&#8217;s no telling
+what may happen. I will not spend another moment
+in peace until you go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The proud old man spoke of his own danger with easy
+assurance. He was absolutely certain, since the day of
+Mrs. Surratt&#8217;s execution, that he would be railroaded to
+the gallows by the same methods. He had long looked
+on the end with indifference, and had ceased to desire to
+live except to see his loved ones again.</p>
+<p>In vain she warned him of danger.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My peril is nothing, my love,&#8221; he answered quietly.
+&#8220;At home, the horrors of a servile reign of terror have become
+a reality. These prison walls do not interest me.
+My heart is with our stricken people. You must go home.
+Our neighbour, Mr. Lenoir, is slowly dying. His wife will
+always be a child. Little Marion is older and more self-reliant.
+I feel as if they are our own children. There
+are so many who need us. They have always looked
+to me for guidance and help. You can do more for them
+than any one else. My calling is to heal others. You
+have always helped me. Do now as I ask you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At last she consented to leave for Piedmont on the following
+day, and he smiled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Kiss Ben and Margaret for me and tell them that I&#8217;ll
+be with them soon,&#8221; he said cheerily. He meant in the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>
+spirit, not the flesh. Not the faintest hope of life even
+flickered in his mind.</p>
+<p>In the last farewell embrace a faint tremor of the soul,
+half sigh, half groan, escaped his lips, and he drew her
+again to his breast, whispering:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Always my sweetheart, good, beautiful, brave, and
+true!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='III_THE_JOY_OF_LIVING' id='III_THE_JOY_OF_LIVING'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Joy of Living</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Within two weeks after the departure of Mrs.
+Cameron and Margaret, the wounded soldier
+had left the hospital with Elsie&#8217;s hand resting
+on his arm and her keen eyes watching his faltering steps.
+She had promised Margaret to take her place until he
+was strong again. She was afraid to ask herself the
+meaning of the songs that were welling up from the depth
+of her own soul. She told herself again and again that
+she was fulfilling her ideal of unselfish human service.</p>
+<p>Ben&#8217;s recovery was rapid, and he soon began to give
+evidence of his boundless joy in the mere fact of life.</p>
+<p>He utterly refused to believe his father in danger.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What, my dad a conspirator, an assassin!&#8221; he cried,
+with a laugh. &#8220;Why, he wouldn&#8217;t kill a flea without
+apologising to it. And as for plots and dark secrets,
+he never had a secret in his life and couldn&#8217;t keep one
+if he had it. My mother keeps all the family secrets.
+Crime couldn&#8217;t stick to him any more than dirty water to
+a duck&#8217;s back!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But we must secure his release on parole, that he may
+defend himself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course. But we won&#8217;t cross any bridges till we
+come to them. I never saw things so bad they couldn&#8217;t
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>
+be worse. Just think what I&#8217;ve been through. The
+war&#8217;s over. Don&#8217;t worry.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He looked at her tenderly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Get that banjo and play &#8216;Get out of the Wilderness!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>His spirit was contagious and his good humour resistless.
+Elsie spent the days of his convalescence in an unconscious
+glow of pleasure in his companionship. His
+handsome boyish face, his bearing, his whole personality,
+invited frankness and intimacy. It was a divine gift, this
+magnetism, the subtle meeting of quick intelligence, tact,
+and sympathy. His voice was tender and penetrating,
+with soft caresses in its tones. His vision of life was large
+and generous, with a splendid carelessness about little
+things that didn&#8217;t count. Each day Elsie saw new and
+striking traits of his character which drew her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What will we do if Stanton arrests you one of these
+fine days?&#8221; she asked him one day.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Afraid they&#8217;ll nab me for something?&#8221; he exclaimed.
+&#8220;Well, that is a joke. Don&#8217;t you worry. The Yankees
+know who to fool with. I licked &#8217;em too many times for
+them to bother me any more.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was under the impression that you got licked,&#8221; Elsie
+observed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you believe it. We wore ourselves out whipping
+the other fellows.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie smiled, took up the banjo, and asked him to sing
+while she played.</p>
+<p>She had no idea that he could sing, yet to her surprise
+he sang his camp songs boldly, tenderly, and with deep,
+expressive feeling.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span></p>
+<p>As the girl listened, the memory of the horrible hours of
+suspense she had spent with his mother when his unconscious
+life hung on a thread came trooping back into her
+heart and a tear dimmed her eyes.</p>
+<p>And he began to look at her with a new wonder and joy
+slowly growing in his soul.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IV_HIDDEN_TREASURE' id='IV_HIDDEN_TREASURE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Hidden Treasure</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Ben had spent a month of vain effort to secure his
+father&#8217;s release. He had succeeded in obtaining
+for him a removal to more comfortable quarters,
+books to read, and the privilege of a daily walk under
+guard and parole. The doctor&#8217;s genial temper, the wide
+range of his knowledge, the charm of his personality, and
+his heroism in suffering had captivated the surgeons who
+attended him and made friends of every jailer and guard.</p>
+<p>Elsie was now using all her woman&#8217;s wit to secure a
+copy of the charges against him as formulated by the
+Judge Advocate General, who, in defiance of civil law,
+still claimed control of these cases.</p>
+<p>To the boy&#8217;s sanguine temperament the whole proceeding
+had been a huge farce from the beginning, and at the
+last interview with his father he had literally laughed him
+into good humour.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here, pa,&#8221; he cried. &#8220;I believe you&#8217;re trying
+to slip off and leave us in this mess. It&#8217;s not fair. It&#8217;s
+easy to die.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who said I was going to die?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I heard you were trying to crawl out that way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, it&#8217;s a mistake. I&#8217;m going to live just for the
+fun of disappointing my enemies and to keep you company.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
+But you&#8217;d better get hold of a copy of these
+charges against me&mdash;if you don&#8217;t want me to escape.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a funny world if a man can be condemned to
+death without any information on the subject.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My son, we are now in the hands of the revolutionists,
+army sutlers, contractors, and adventurers. The Nation
+will touch the lowest tide-mud of its degradation within
+the next few years. No man can predict the end.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, go &#8217;long!&#8221; said Ben. &#8220;You&#8217;ve got jail cobwebs in
+your eyes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m depending on you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll pull you through if you don&#8217;t lie down on me and
+die to get out of trouble. You know you <i>can</i> die if you
+try hard enough.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I promise you, my boy,&#8221; he said with a laugh.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll let you read this letter from home,&#8221; Ben
+said, suddenly thrusting it before him.</p>
+<p>The doctor&#8217;s hand trembled a little as he put on his
+glasses and read:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><i>My Dear Boy</i>: I cannot tell you how much good your bright
+letters have done us. It&#8217;s like opening the window and letting
+in the sunlight while fresh breezes blow through one&#8217;s soul.</p>
+<p>Margaret and I have had stirring times. I send you enclosed
+an order for the last dollar of money we have left. You must
+hoard it. Make it last until your father is safe at home. I
+dare not leave it here. Nothing is safe. Every piece of silver
+and everything that could be carried has been stolen since we
+returned.</p>
+<p>Uncle Aleck betrayed the place Jake had hidden our twenty
+precious bales of cotton. The war is long since over, but the
+&#8220;Treasury Agent&#8221; declared them confiscated, and then offered
+to relieve us of his order if we gave him five bales, each worth
+three hundred dollars in gold. I agreed, and within a week
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>
+another thief came and declared the other fifteen bales confiscated.
+They steal it, and the Government never gets a cent.
+We dared not try to sell it in open market, as every bale
+exposed for sale is &#8220;confiscated&#8221; at once.</p>
+<p>No crop was planted this summer. The negroes are all
+drawing rations at the Freedman&#8217;s Bureau.</p>
+<p>We have turned our house into a hotel, and our table has
+become famous. Margaret is a treasure. She has learned to
+do everything. We tried to raise a crop on the farm when we
+came home, but the negroes stopped work. The Agent of the
+Bureau came to us and said he could send them back for a fee
+of $50. We paid it, and they worked a week. We found it
+easier to run a hotel. We hope to start the farm next year.</p>
+<p>Our new minister at the Presbyterian Church is young,
+handsome, and eloquent&mdash;Rev. Hugh McAlpin.</p>
+<p>Mr. Lenoir died last week&mdash;but his end was so beautiful,
+our tears were half joy. He talked incessantly of your father
+and how the country missed him. He seemed much better
+the day before the end came, and we took him for a little drive
+to Lovers&#8217; Leap. It was there, sixteen years ago, he made love
+to Jeannie. When we propped him up on the rustic seat, and
+he looked out over the cliff and the river below, I have never
+seen a face so transfigured with peace and joy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a beautiful world it is, my dears!&#8221; he exclaimed,
+taking Jeannie and Marion both by the hand.</p>
+<p>They began to cry, and he said with a smile:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come now&mdash;do you love me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>And they covered his hands with kisses.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, then you must promise me two things faithfully
+here, with Mrs. Cameron to witness!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We promise,&#8221; they both said in a breath.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That when I fall asleep, not one thread of black shall ever
+cloud the sunlight of our little home, that you will never wear
+it, and that you will show your love for me by making my
+flowers grow richer, that you will keep my memory green by
+always being as beautiful as you are to-day, and make this old
+world a sweeter place to live in. I wish you, Jeannie, my
+mate, to keep on making the young people glad. Don&#8217;t let
+their joys be less even for a month because I have laid down
+to rest. Let them sing and dance&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Papa!&#8221; cried Marion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly, my little serious beauty&mdash;I&#8217;ll not be far away,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>
+I&#8217;ll be near and breathe my songs into their hearts, and into
+yours&mdash;you both promise?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes!&#8221; they both cried.</p>
+<p>As we drove back through the woods, he smiled tenderly
+and said to me:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My neighbour, Doctor Cameron, pays taxes on these
+woods, but I own them! Their sighing boughs, stirred by the
+breezes, have played for me oratorios grander than all the
+scores of human genius. I&#8217;ll hear the Choir Invisible play
+them when I sleep.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He died that night suddenly. With his last breath he sighed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Draw the curtains and let me see again the moonlit woods!&#8221;</p>
+<p>They are trying to carry out his wishes. I found they had
+nothing to eat, and that he had really died from insufficient
+nourishment&mdash;a polite expression meaning starvation. I&#8217;ve
+divided half our little store with them and send the rest to
+you. I think Marion more and more the incarnate soul of
+her father. I feel as if they are both my children.</p>
+<p>My little grandchick, Hugh, is the sweetest youngster alive.
+He was a wee thing when you left. Mrs. Lenoir kept him
+when they arrested your father. He is so much like your
+brother Hugh I feel as if he has come to life again. You should
+hear him say grace, so solemnly and tenderly, we can&#8217;t help
+crying. He made it up himself. This is what he says at
+every meal:</p>
+<p>&#8220;God, please give my grandpa something good to eat in
+jail, keep him well, don&#8217;t let the pains hurt him any more, and
+bring him home to me quick, for Jesus&#8217; sake. Amen.&#8221;</p>
+<p>I never knew before how the people loved the doctor, nor
+how dependent they were on him for help and guidance. Men,
+both white and coloured, come here every day to ask about
+him. Some of them come from far up in the mountains.</p>
+<p>God alone knows how lonely our home and the world has
+seemed without him. They say that those who love and live
+the close sweet home life for years grow alike in soul and body,
+in tastes, ways, and habits. I find it so. People have told me
+that your father and I are more alike than brother and sister
+of the same blood. In spirit I&#8217;m sure it&#8217;s true. I know you
+love him and that you will leave nothing undone for his health
+and safety. Tell him that my only cure for loneliness in his
+absence is my fight to keep the wolf from the door, and save
+our home against his coming.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p>Lovingly, your <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mother</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></div>
+<p>When the doctor had finished the reading, he looked
+out the window of the jail at the shining dome of the
+Capitol for a moment in silence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know, my boy, that you have the heritage of
+royal blood? You are the child of a wonderful mother.
+I&#8217;m ashamed when I think of the helpless stupor under
+which I have given up, and then remember the deathless
+courage with which she has braved it all&mdash;the loss of her
+boys, her property, your troubles and mine. She has
+faced the world alone like a wounded lioness standing
+over her cubs. And now she turns her home into a hotel,
+and begins life in a strange new world without one doubt
+of her success. The South is yet rich even in its ruin.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you&#8217;ll fight and go back to her with me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, never fear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good! You see, we&#8217;re so poor now, pa, you&#8217;re lucky
+to be saving a board bill here. I&#8217;d &#8216;conspire&#8217; myself and
+come in with you but for the fact it would hamper me a
+little in helping you.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='V_ACROSS_THE_CHASM' id='V_ACROSS_THE_CHASM'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Across the Chasm</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When Ben had fully recovered and his father&#8217;s
+case looked hopeful, Elsie turned to her study
+of music, and the Southern boy suddenly
+waked to the fact that the great mystery of life was upon
+him. He was in love at last&mdash;genuinely, deeply, without
+one reservation. He had from habit flirted in a harmless
+way with every girl he knew. He left home with little
+Marion Lenoir&#8217;s girlish kiss warm on his lips. He had
+made love to many a pretty girl in old Virginia as the red
+tide of war had ebbed and flowed around Stuart&#8217;s magic
+camps.</p>
+<p>But now the great hour of the soul had struck. No
+sooner had he dropped the first tender words that might
+have their double meaning, feeling his way cautiously
+toward her, than she had placed a gulf of dignity between
+them, and attempted to cut every tie that bound her life
+to his.</p>
+<p>It had been so sudden it took his breath away. Could
+he win her? The word &#8220;fail&#8221; had never been in his vocabulary.
+It had never run in the speech of his people.</p>
+<p>Yes, he would win if it was the only thing he did in
+this world. And forthwith he set about it. Life took on
+new meaning and new glory. What mattered war or
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>
+wounds, pain or poverty, jails and revolutions&mdash;it was
+the dawn of life!</p>
+<p>He sent her a flower every day and pinned one just like
+it on his coat. And every night found him seated by her
+side. She greeted him cordially, but the gulf yawned
+between them. His courtesy and self-control struck her
+with surprise and admiration. In the face of her coldness
+he carried about him an air of smiling deference and
+gallantry.</p>
+<p>She finally told him of her determination to go to
+New York to pursue her studies until Phil had finished
+the term of his enlistment in his regiment, which had
+been ordered on permanent duty in the West.</p>
+<p>He laughed with his eyes at this announcement, blinking
+the lashes rapidly without moving his lips. It was a
+peculiar habit of his when deeply moved by a sudden
+thought. It had flashed over him like lightning that she
+was trying to get away from him. She would not do
+that unless she cared.</p>
+<p>&#8220;When are you going?&#8221; he asked quietly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Day after to-morrow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you will give me one afternoon for a sail on the
+river to say good-bye and thank you for what you have
+done for me and mine?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She hesitated, laughed, and refused.</p>
+<p>&#8220;To-morrow at four o&#8217;clock I&#8217;ll call for you,&#8221; he said
+firmly. &#8220;If there&#8217;s no wind, we can drift with the
+tide.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will not have time to go.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Promptly at four,&#8221; he repeated as he left.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></p>
+<p>Ben spent hours that night weighing the question of
+how far he should dare to speak his love. It had been
+such an easy thing before. Now it seemed a question of
+life and death. Twice the magic words had been on his
+lips, and each time something in her manner chilled him
+into silence.</p>
+<p>Was she cold and incapable of love? No; this manner
+of the North was on the surface. He knew that
+deep down within her nature lay banked and smouldering
+fires of passion for the one man whose breath could stir
+it into flame. He felt this all the keener now that the
+spell of her companionship and the sweet intimacy of her
+daily ministry to him had been broken. The memory
+of little movements of her petite figure, the glance of her
+warm amber eyes, and the touch of her hand&mdash;all had
+their tongues of revelation to his eager spirit.</p>
+<p>He found her ready at four o&#8217;clock.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You see I decided to go after all,&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I knew you would,&#8221; he answered.</p>
+<p>She was dressed in a simple suit of navy-blue cloth cut
+V-shaped at the throat, showing the graceful lines of her
+exquisite neck as it melted into the plump shoulders.
+She had scorned hoop skirts.</p>
+<p>He admired her for this, and yet it made him uneasy.
+A woman who could defy an edict of fashion was a new
+thing under the sun, and it scared him.</p>
+<p>They were seated in the little sailboat now, drifting
+out with the tide. It was a perfect day in October, one
+of those matchless days of Indian summer in the Virginia
+climate when an infinite peace and vast brooding silence
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span>
+fill the earth and sky until one feels that words are a
+sacrilege.</p>
+<p>Neither of them spoke for minutes, and his heart
+grew bold in the stillness. No girl could be still who
+was unmoved.</p>
+<p>She was seated just in front of him on the left, with
+her hand idly rippling the surface of the silvery waters,
+gazing at the wooded cliff on the river banks clothed
+now in their gorgeous robes of yellow, purple, scarlet,
+and gold.</p>
+<p>The soft strains of distant music came from a band in
+the fort, and her hand in the rippling water seemed its
+accompaniment.</p>
+<p>Ben was conscious only of her presence. Every sight
+and sound of nature seemed to be blended in her presence.
+Never in all his life had he seen anything so delicately
+beautiful as the ripe rose colour of her cheeks, and all the
+tints of autumn&#8217;s glory seemed to melt into the gold of
+her hair.</p>
+<p>And those eyes he felt that God had never set in such
+a face before&mdash;rich amber, warm and glowing, big and
+candid, courageous and truthful.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you dead again?&#8221; she asked demurely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, as the Irishman said in answer to his mate&#8217;s
+question when he fell off the house, &#8216;not dead&mdash;but
+spacheless.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He was quick to see the opening her question with its
+memories had made, and took advantage of it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here, Miss Elsie, you&#8217;re too honest, independent,
+and candid to play hide-and-seek with me. I want
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>
+to ask you a plain question. You&#8217;ve been trying to pick
+a quarrel of late. What have I done?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing. It has simply come to me that our lives
+are far apart. The gulf between us is real and very deep.
+Your father was but yesterday a slaveholder&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben grinned:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, your slave-trading grandfather sold them to us
+the day before.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie blushed and bristled for a fight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You won&#8217;t mind if I give you a few lessons in history,
+will you?&#8221; Ben asked softly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not in the least. I didn&#8217;t know that Southerners
+studied history,&#8221; she answered, with a toss of her head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We made a specialty of the history of slavery, at least.
+I had a dear old teacher at home who fairly blazed with
+light on this subject. He is one of the best-read men in
+America. He happens to be in jail just now. But I
+haven&#8217;t forgotten&mdash;I know it by heart.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am waiting for light,&#8221; she interrupted cynically.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The South is no more to blame for negro slavery
+than the North. Our slaves were stolen from Africa
+by Yankee skippers. When a slaver arrived at Boston,
+your pious Puritan clergyman offered public prayer of
+thanks that &#8216;A gracious and overruling Providence had
+been pleased to bring to this land of freedom another
+cargo of benighted heathen to enjoy the blessings of a
+gospel dispensation&mdash;&mdash;&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>She looked at him with angry incredulity and cried:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go on.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Twenty-three times the Legislature of Virginia passed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span>
+acts against the importation of slaves, which the king
+vetoed on petition of the Massachusetts slave traders.
+Jefferson made these acts of the king one of the grievances
+of the Declaration of Independence, but a Massachusetts
+member succeeded in striking it out. The Southern men
+in the convention which framed the Constitution put into
+it a clause abolishing the slave trade, but the Massachusetts
+men succeeded in adding a clause extending the
+trade twenty years&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He smiled and paused.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go on,&#8221; she said, with impatience.</p>
+<p>&#8220;In Colonial days a negro woman was publicly burned
+to death in Boston. The first Abolition paper was published
+in Tennessee by Embree. Benjamin Lundy, his
+successor, could not find a single Abolitionist in Boston.
+In 1828 over half the people of Tennessee favoured Abolition.
+At this time there were one hundred and forty
+Abolition Societies in America&mdash;one hundred and three in
+the South, and not one in Massachusetts. It was not
+until 1836 that Massachusetts led in Abolition&mdash;not until
+all her own slaves had been sold to us at a profit and the
+slave trade had been destroyed&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>She looked at Ben with anger for a moment and met his
+tantalizing look of good humour.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can you stand any more?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly, I enjoy it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m just breaking down the barriers&mdash;so to speak,&#8221;
+he said, with the laughter still lurking in his eyes, as he
+looked steadily ahead.</p>
+<p>&#8220;By all means go on,&#8221; she said soberly. &#8220;I thought
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span>
+at first you were trying to tease me. I see that you are in
+earnest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never more so. This is about the only little path of
+history I&#8217;m at home in&mdash;I love to show off in it. I heard
+a cheerful idiot say the other day that your father meant
+to carry the civilization of Massachusetts to the Rio
+Grande until we had a Democracy in America. I smiled.
+While Massachusetts was enforcing laws about the dress
+of the rich and the poor, founding a church with a whipping-post,
+jail, and gibbet, and limiting the right to vote
+to a church membership fixed by pew rents, Carolina was
+the home of freedom where first the equal rights of men
+were proclaimed. New England people worth less than
+one thousand dollars were prohibited by law from wearing
+the garb of a gentleman, gold or silver lace, buttons on
+the knees, or to walk in great boots, or their women to
+wear silk or scarfs, while the Quakers, Maryland Catholics,
+Baptists, and Scotch-Irish Presbyterians were everywhere
+in the South the heralds of man&#8217;s equality before
+the law.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But barring our ancestors, I have some things against
+the men of this generation.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have I, too, sinned and come short?&#8221; he asked with
+mock gravity.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Our ideals of life are far apart,&#8221; she firmly declared.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What ails my ideal?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your egotism, for one thing. The air with which you
+calmly select what pleases your fancy. Northern men
+are bad enough&mdash;the insolence of a Southerner is beyond
+words!&#8221;</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-126.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 395px; height: 583px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 395px;'>
+LILLIAN GISH AS ELSIE, AND THE SENTINEL.<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></div>
+<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t say so!&#8221; cried Ben, bursting into a hearty
+laugh. &#8220;Isn&#8217;t your aunt, Mrs. Farnham, the president
+of a club?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and she is a very brilliant woman.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Enlighten me further.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I deny your heaven-born male kingship. The lord
+of creation is after all a very inferior animal&mdash;nearer the
+brute creation, weaker in infancy, shorter lived, more imperfectly
+developed, given to fighting, and addicted to
+idiocy. I never saw a female idiot in my life&mdash;did you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come to think of it, I never did,&#8221; acknowledged Ben
+with comic gravity. &#8220;What else?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t that enough?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s nothing. I agree with everything you say, but it
+is irrelevant. I&#8217;m studying law, you know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have a personality of my own. You and your kind
+assume the right to absorb all lesser lights.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly, I&#8217;m a man.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t care to be absorbed by a mere man.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t wish to be protected, sheltered, and cared for?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I dream of a life that shall be larger than the four
+walls of a home. I have never gone into hysterics over
+the idea of becoming a cook and housekeeper without
+wages, and snuffing my life out while another grows, expands,
+and claims the lordship of the world. I can sing.
+My voice is to me what eloquence is to man. My ideal
+is an intellectual companion who will inspire and lead me
+to develop all that I feel within to its highest reach.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She paused a moment and looked defiantly into Ben&#8217;s
+brown eyes, about which a smile was constantly playing.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span>
+He looked away, and again the river echoed with his contagious
+laughter. She had to join in spite of herself.
+He laughed with boyish gayety. It danced in his eyes,
+and gave spring to every movement of his slender wiry
+body. She felt its contagion enfold her.</p>
+<p>His laughter melted into a song. In a voice vibrant
+with joy he sang, &#8220;If you get there before I do, tell &#8217;em
+I&#8217;m comin&#8217; too!&#8221;</p>
+<p>As Elsie listened, her anger grew as she recalled the
+amazing folly that had induced her to tell the secret
+feelings of her inmost soul to this man almost a stranger.
+Whence came this miracle of influence about him, this
+gift of intimacy? She felt a shock as if she had been
+immodest. She was in an agony of doubt as to
+what he was thinking of her, and dreaded to meet his
+gaze.</p>
+<p>And yet, when he turned toward her, his whole being a
+smiling compound of dark Southern blood and bone and
+fire, at the sound of his voice all doubt and questioning
+melted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know,&#8221; he said earnestly, &#8220;that you are the
+funniest, most charming girl I ever met?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thanks. I&#8217;ve heard your experience has been large
+for one of your age.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben&#8217;s eyes danced.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps, yes. You appeal to things in me that I
+didn&#8217;t know were there&mdash;to all the senses of body and soul
+at once. Your strength of mind, with its conceits, and
+your quick little temper seem so odd and out of place,
+clothed in the gentleness of your beauty.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I was never more serious in my life. There are other
+things more personal about you that I do not like.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your cavalier habits.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cavalier fiddlesticks. There are no Cavaliers in my
+country. We are all Covenanter and Huguenot folks.
+The idea that Southern boys are lazy loafing dreamers is a
+myth. I was raised on the catechism.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You love to fish and hunt and frolic&mdash;you flirt with
+every girl you meet, and you drink sometimes. I often
+feel that you are cruel and that I do not know you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben&#8217;s face grew serious, and the red scar in the edge
+of his hair suddenly became livid with the rush of blood.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps I don&#8217;t mean that you shall know all yet,&#8221; he
+said slowly. &#8220;My ideal of a man is one that leads,
+charms, dominates, and yet eludes. I confess that I&#8217;m
+close kin to an angel and a devil, and that I await a
+woman&#8217;s hand to lead me into the ways of peace and life.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The spiritual earnestness of the girl was quick to catch
+the subtle appeal of his last words. His broad, high forehead,
+straight, masterly nose, with its mobile nostrils,
+seemed to her very manly at just that moment and very
+appealing. A soft answer was on her lips.</p>
+<p>He saw it, and leaned toward her in impulsive tenderness.
+A timid look on her face caused him to sink back in
+silence.</p>
+<p>They had now drifted near the city. The sun was
+slowly sinking in a smother of fiery splendour that
+mirrored its changing hues in the still water. The hush
+of the harvest fullness of autumn life was over all nature.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span>
+They passed a camp of soldiers and then a big hospital on
+the banks above. A gun flashed from the hill, and the
+flag dropped from its staff.</p>
+<p>The girl&#8217;s eyes lingered on the flower in his coat a
+moment and then on the red scar in the edge of his dark
+hair, and somehow the difference between them seemed
+to melt into the falling twilight. Only his nearness was
+real. Again a strange joy held her.</p>
+<p>He threw her a look of tenderness, and she began to
+tremble. A sea gull poised a moment above them and
+broke into a laugh.</p>
+<p>Bending nearer, he gently took her hand, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I love you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>A sob caught her breath and she buried her face on her
+arm.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am for you, and you are for me. Why beat your
+wings against the thing that is and must be? What else
+matters? With all my sins and faults my land is yours&mdash;a
+land of sunshine, eternal harvests, and everlasting song,
+old-fashioned and provincial perhaps, but kind and hospitable.
+Around its humblest cottage song birds live and
+mate and nest and never leave. The winged ones of your
+own cold fields have heard their call, and the sky to-night
+will echo with their chatter as they hurry southward.
+Elsie, my own, I too have called&mdash;come; I love you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She lifted her face to him full of tender spiritual charm,
+her eyes burning their passionate answer.</p>
+<p>He bent and kissed her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say it! Say it!&#8221; he whispered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I love you!&#8221; she sighed.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VI_THE_GAUGE_OF_BATTLE' id='VI_THE_GAUGE_OF_BATTLE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Gauge of Battle</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The day of the first meeting of the National Congress
+after the war was one of intense excitement.
+The galleries of the House were packed. Elsie
+was there with Ben in a fever of secret anxiety lest the
+stirring drama should cloud her own life. She watched
+her father limp to his seat with every eye fixed on him.</p>
+<p>The President had pursued with persistence the plan of
+Lincoln for the immediate restoration of the Union.
+Would Congress follow the lead of the President or challenge
+him to mortal combat?</p>
+<p>Civil governments had been restored in all the Southern
+States, with men of the highest ability chosen as governors
+and lawmakers. Their legislatures had unanimously
+voted for the Thirteenth Amendment of the Constitution
+abolishing slavery, and elected senators and representatives
+to Congress. Mr. Seward, the Secretary of State,
+had declared the new amendment a part of the organic
+law of the Nation by the vote of these States.</p>
+<p>General Grant went to the South to report its condition
+and boldly declared:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am satisfied that the mass of thinking people of the
+South accept the situation in good faith. Slavery and
+secession they regard as settled forever by the highest
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>
+known tribunal, and consider this decision a fortunate one
+for the whole country.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Would the Southerners be allowed to enter?</p>
+<p>Amid breathless silence the clerk rose to call the roll of
+members-elect. Every ear was bent to hear the name of
+the first Southern man. Not one was called! The Master
+had spoken. His clerk knew how to play his part.</p>
+<p>The next business of the House was to receive the
+message of the Chief Magistrate of the Nation.</p>
+<p>The message came, but not from the White House. It
+came from the seat of the Great Commoner.</p>
+<p>As the first thrill of excitement over the challenge to the
+President slowly subsided, Stoneman rose, planted his
+big club foot in the middle of the aisle, and delivered to
+Congress the word of its new master.</p>
+<p>It was Ben&#8217;s first view of the man of all the world just
+now of most interest. From his position he could see his
+full face and figure.</p>
+<p>He began speaking in a careless, desultory way. His
+tone was loud yet not declamatory, at first in a grumbling,
+grandfatherly, half-humorous, querulous accent that
+riveted every ear instantly. A sort of drollery of a contagious
+kind haunted it. Here and there a member tittered
+in expectation of a flash of wit.</p>
+<p>His figure was taller than the average, slightly bent,
+with a dignity which suggested reserve power and contempt
+for his audience. One knew instinctively that
+back of the boldest word this man might say there was a
+bolder unspoken word he had chosen not to speak.</p>
+<p>His limbs were long, and their movements slow, yet
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
+nervous as from some internal fiery force. His hands
+were big and ugly, and always in ungraceful fumbling
+motion as though a separate soul dwelt within them.</p>
+<p>The heaped-up curly profusion of his brown wig gave a
+weird impression to the spread of his mobile features.
+His eagle-beaked nose had three distinct lines and angles.
+His chin was broad and bold, and his brows beetling and
+projecting. His mouth was wide, marked, and grim;
+when opened, deep and cavernous; when closed, it seemed
+to snap so tightly that the lower lip protruded.</p>
+<p>Of all his make-up, his eye was the most fascinating,
+and it held Ben spellbound. It could thrill to the deepest
+fibre of the soul that looked into it, yet it did not gleam.
+It could dominate, awe, and confound, yet it seemed to
+have no colour or fire. He could easily see it across the
+vast hall from the galleries, yet it was not large. Two
+bold, colourless dagger-points of light they seemed. As he
+grew excited, they darkened as if passing under a cloud.</p>
+<p>A sudden sweep of his huge apelike arm in an angular
+gesture, and the drollery and carelessness of his voice were
+riven from it as by a bolt of lightning.</p>
+<p>He was driving home his message now in brutal frankness.
+Yet in the height of his fiercest invective he never
+seemed to strengthen himself or call on his resources. In
+its climax he was careless, conscious of power, and contemptuous
+of results, as though as a gambler he had
+staked and lost all and in the moment of losing suddenly
+become the master of those who had beaten him.</p>
+<p>His speech never once bent to persuade or convince.
+He meant to brain the opposition with a single blow, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
+he did it. For he suddenly took the breath from his foes
+by shouting in their faces the hidden motive of which they
+were hoping to accuse him!</p>
+<p>&#8220;Admit these Southern Representatives,&#8221; he cried,
+&#8220;and with the Democrats elected from the North, within
+one term they will have a majority in Congress and the
+Electoral College. The supremacy of our party&#8217;s life is
+at stake. The man who dares palter with such a measure
+is a rebel, a traitor to his party and his people.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A cheer burst from his henchmen, and his foes sat in
+dazed stupor at his audacity. He moved the appointment
+of a &#8220;Committee on Reconstruction&#8221; to whom the
+entire government of the &#8220;conquered provinces of the
+South&#8221; should be committed, and to whom all credentials
+of their pretended representatives should be referred.</p>
+<p>He sat down as the Speaker put his motion, declared
+it carried, and quickly announced the names of this Imperial
+Committee with the Hon. Austin Stoneman as its
+chairman.</p>
+<p>He then permitted the message of the President of the
+United States to be read by his clerk.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, upon my soul,&#8221; said Ben, taking a deep breath
+and looking at Elsie, &#8220;he&#8217;s the whole thing, isn&#8217;t he?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl smiled with pride.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; he is a genius. He was born to command and
+yet never could resist the cry of a child or the plea of a
+woman. He hates, but he hates ideas and systems. He
+makes threats, yet when he meets the man who stands
+for all he hates he falls in love with his enemy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then there&#8217;s hope for me?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but I must be the judge of the time to speak.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, if he looks at me as he did once to-day, you may
+have to do the speaking also.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will like him when you know him. He is one
+of the greatest men in America.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;At least he&#8217;s the father of the greatest girl in the
+world, which is far more important.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wonder if you know how important?&#8221; she asked
+seriously. &#8220;He is the apple of my eye. His bitter
+words, his cynicism and sarcasm, are all on the surface&mdash;masks
+that hide a great sensitive spirit. You can&#8217;t know
+with what brooding tenderness I have always loved and
+worshipped him. I will never marry against his wishes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope he and I will always be good friends,&#8221; said
+Ben doubtfully.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must,&#8221; she replied, eagerly pressing his hand.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VII_A_WOMAN_LAUGHS' id='VII_A_WOMAN_LAUGHS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Woman Laughs</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Each day the conflict waxed warmer between
+the President and the Commoner.</p>
+<p>The first bill sent to the White House to Africanize
+the &#8220;conquered provinces&#8221; the President vetoed
+in a message of such logic, dignity, and power, the old
+leader found to his amazement it was impossible to rally
+the two-thirds majority to pass it over his head.</p>
+<p>At first, all had gone as planned. Lynch and Howle
+brought to him a report on &#8220;Southern Atrocities,&#8221; secured
+through the councils of the secret oath-bound
+Union League, which had destroyed the impression of
+General Grant&#8217;s words and prepared his followers for
+blind submission to his Committee.</p>
+<p>Yet the rally of a group of men in defence of the Constitution
+had given the President unexpected strength.</p>
+<p>Stoneman saw that he must hold his hand on the throat
+of the South and fight another campaign. Howle and
+Lynch furnished the publication committee of the Union
+League the matter, and they printed four million five
+hundred thousand pamphlets on &#8220;Southern Atrocities.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Northern States were hostile to negro suffrage, the
+first step of his revolutionary programme, and not a dozen
+men in Congress had yet dared to favour it. Ohio, Michigan,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>
+New York, and Kansas had rejected it by overwhelming
+majorities. But he could appeal to their passions and
+prejudices against the &#8220;Barbarism&#8221; of the South. It
+would work like magic. When he had the South where
+he wanted it, he would turn and ram negro suffrage and
+negro equality down the throats of the reluctant North.</p>
+<p>His energies were now bent to prevent any effective
+legislation in Congress until his strength should be omnipotent.</p>
+<p>A cloud disturbed the sky for a moment in the Senate.
+John Sherman, of Ohio, began to loom on the horizon as
+a constructive statesman, and without consulting him
+was quietly forcing over Sumner&#8217;s classic oratory a Reconstruction
+Bill restoring the Southern States to the
+Union on the basis of Lincoln&#8217;s plan, with no provision
+for interference with the suffrage. It had gone to its last
+reading, and the final vote was pending.</p>
+<p>The house was in session at 3 <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>a. m.</span>, waiting in feverish
+anxiety the outcome of this struggle in the Senate.</p>
+<p>Old Stoneman was in his seat, fast asleep from the
+exhaustion of an unbroken session of forty hours. His
+meals he had sent to his desk from the Capitol restaurant.
+He was seventy-four years old and not in good health,
+yet his energy was tireless, his resources inexhaustible,
+and his audacity matchless.</p>
+<p>Sunset Cox, the wag of the House, an opponent but
+personal friend of the old Commoner, passing his seat and
+seeing the great head sunk on his breast in sleep, laughed
+softly and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Speaker!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></p>
+<p>The presiding officer recognized the young Democrat
+with a nod of answering humour and responded:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The gentleman from New York.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I move you, sir,&#8221; said Cox, &#8220;that, in view of the advanced
+age and eminent services of the distinguished
+gentleman from Pennsylvania, the Sergeant-at-Arms be
+instructed to furnish him with enough poker chips to
+last till morning!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The scattered members who were awake roared with
+laughter, the Speaker pounded furiously with his gavel,
+the sleepy little pages jumped up, rubbing their eyes,
+and ran here and there answering imaginary calls,
+and the whole House waked to its usual noise and confusion.</p>
+<p>The old man raised his massive head and looked to the
+door leading toward the Senate just as Sumner rushed
+through. He had slept for a moment, but his keen intellect
+had taken up the fight at precisely the point at
+which he left it.</p>
+<p>Sumner approached his desk rapidly, leaned over, and
+reported his defeat and Sherman&#8217;s triumph.</p>
+<p>&#8220;For God&#8217;s sake throttle this measure in the House or
+we are ruined!&#8221; he exclaimed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be alarmed,&#8221; replied the cynic. &#8220;I&#8217;ll be here
+with stronger weapons than articulated wind.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have not a moment to lose. The bill is on its
+way to the Speaker&#8217;s desk, and Sherman&#8217;s men are going
+to force its passage to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Senator returned to the other end of the Capitol
+wrapped in the mantle of his outraged dignity, and in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span>
+thirty minutes the bill was defeated, and the House
+adjourned.</p>
+<p>As the old Commoner hobbled through the door, his
+crooked cane thumping the marble floor, Sumner seized
+and pressed his hand:</p>
+<p>&#8220;How did you do it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman&#8217;s huge jaws snapped together and his lower
+lip protruded:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I sent for Cox and summoned the leader of the
+Democrats. I told them if they would join with me and
+defeat this bill, I&#8217;d give them a better one the next session.
+And I will&mdash;negro suffrage! The gudgeons swallowed
+it whole!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Sumner lifted his eyebrows and wrapped his cloak a
+little closer.</p>
+<p>The Great Commoner laughed as he departed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is yet too good for this world, but he&#8217;ll forget it
+before we&#8217;re done this fight.&#8221;</p>
+<p>On the steps a beggar asked him for a night&#8217;s lodging,
+and he tossed him a gold eagle.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>The North, which had rejected negro suffrage for itself
+with scorn, answered Stoneman&#8217;s fierce appeal to their
+passions against the South, and sent him a delegation of
+radicals eager to do his will.</p>
+<p>So fierce had waxed the combat between the President
+and Congress that the very existence of Stanton&#8217;s prisoners
+languishing in jail was forgotten, and the Secretary
+of War himself became a football to be kicked back and
+forth in this conflict of giants. The fact that Andrew
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>
+Johnson was from Tennessee, and had been an old-line
+Democrat before his election as a Unionist with Lincoln,
+was now a fatal weakness in his position. Under Stoneman&#8217;s
+assaults he became at once an executive without a
+party, and every word of amnesty and pardon he proclaimed
+for the South in accordance with Lincoln&#8217;s plan
+was denounced as the act of a renegade courting favour
+of traitors and rebels.</p>
+<p>Stanton remained in his cabinet against his wishes to
+insult and defy him, and Stoneman, quick to see the way
+by which the President of the Nation could be degraded
+and made ridiculous, introduced a bill depriving him of
+the power to remove his own cabinet officers. The act
+was not only meant to degrade the President; it was a
+trap set for his ruin. The penalties were so fixed that its
+violation would give specific ground for his trial, impeachment,
+and removal from office.</p>
+<p>Again Stoneman passed his first act to reduce the &#8220;conquered
+provinces&#8221; of the South to negro rule.</p>
+<p>President Johnson vetoed it with a message of such
+logic in defence of the constitutional rights of the States
+that it failed by one vote to find the two-thirds majority
+needed to become a law without his approval.</p>
+<p>The old Commoner&#8217;s eyes froze into two dagger-points
+of icy light when this vote was announced.</p>
+<p>With fury he cursed the President, but above all he
+cursed the men of his own party who had faltered.</p>
+<p>As he fumbled his big hands nervously, he growled:</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I only had five men of genuine courage in Congress,
+I&#8217;d hang the man at the other end of the avenue from the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span>
+porch of the White House! But I haven&#8217;t got them&mdash;cowards,
+dastards, dolts, and snivelling fools&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>His decision was instantly made. He would expel
+enough Democrats from the Senate and the House to
+place his two-thirds majority beyond question. The
+name of the President never passed his lips. He referred
+to him always, even in public debate, as &#8220;the man at the
+other end of the avenue,&#8221; or &#8220;the former Governor of
+Tennessee who once threatened rebels&mdash;the late lamented
+Andrew Johnson, of blessed memory.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He ordered the expulsion of the new member of the
+House from Indiana, Daniel W. Voorhees, and the
+new Senator from New Jersey, John P. Stockton.
+This would give him a majority of two thirds composed
+of men who would obey his word without a question.</p>
+<p>Voorhees heard of the edict with indignant wrath.
+He had met Stoneman in the lobbies, where he was
+often the centre of admiring groups of friends. His
+wit and audacity, and, above all, his brutal frankness,
+had won the admiration of the &#8220;Tall Sycamore of the
+Wabash.&#8221; He could not believe such a man would
+be a party to a palpable fraud. He appealed to him
+personally:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here, Stoneman,&#8221; the young orator cried with
+wrath, &#8220;I appeal to your sense of honour and decency.
+My credentials have been accepted by your own committee,
+and my seat been awarded me. My majority is
+unquestioned. This is a high-handed outrage. You
+cannot permit this crime.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man thrust his deformed foot out before him,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span>
+struck it meditatively with his cane, and looking Voorhees
+straight in the eye, boldly said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s nothing the matter with your majority, young
+man. I&#8217;ve no doubt it&#8217;s all right. Unfortunately, you
+are a Democrat, and happen to be the odd man in the
+way of the two-thirds majority on which the supremacy
+of my party depends. You will have to go. Come back
+some other time.&#8221; And he did.</p>
+<p>In the Senate there was a hitch. When the vote was
+taken on the expulsion of Stockton, to the amazement of
+the leader it was a tie.</p>
+<p>He hobbled into the Senate Chamber, with the steel
+point of his cane ringing on the marble flags as though
+he were thrusting it through the vitals of the weakling
+who had sneaked and hedged and trimmed at the crucial
+moment.</p>
+<p>He met Howle at the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the matter in there?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;re trying to compromise.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Compromise&mdash;the Devil of American politics,&#8221; he
+muttered. &#8220;But how did the vote fail&mdash;it was all fixed
+before the roll-call?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Roman, of Maine, has trouble with his conscience!
+He is paired not to vote on this question with Stockton&#8217;s
+colleague, who is sick in Trenton. His &#8216;honour&#8217; is involved,
+and he refuses to break his word.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I see,&#8221; said Stoneman, pulling his bristling brows down
+until his eyes were two beads of white gleaming through
+them. &#8220;Tell Wade to summon every member of the party
+in his room immediately and hold the Senate in session.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></p>
+<p>When the group of Senators crowded into the Vice-president&#8217;s
+room the old man faced them leaning on his
+cane and delivered an address of five minutes they never
+forgot.</p>
+<p>His speech had a nameless fascination. The man
+himself with his elemental passions was a wonder. He
+left on public record no speech worth reading, and yet
+these powerful men shrank under his glance. As the
+nostrils of his big three-angled nose dilated, the scream
+of an eagle rang in his voice, his huge ugly hand held
+the crook of his cane with the clutch of a tiger, his
+tongue flew with the hiss of an adder, and his big deformed
+foot seemed to grip the floor as the claw of a
+beast.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The life of a political party, gentlemen,&#8221; he growled
+in conclusion, &#8220;is maintained by a scheme of subterfuges
+in which the moral law cuts no figure. As your leader, I
+know but one law&mdash;success. The world is full of fools
+who must have toys with which to play. A belief in politics
+is the favourite delusion of shallow American minds.
+But you and I have no delusions. Your life depends on
+this vote. If any man thinks the abstraction called
+&#8216;honour&#8217; is involved, let him choose between his honour
+and his life! I call no names. This issue must be settled
+now before the Senate adjourns. There can be no to-morrow.
+It is life or death. Let the roll be called again
+immediately.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The grave Senators resumed their seats, and Wade, the
+acting Vice-president, again put the question to Stockton&#8217;s
+expulsion.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></p>
+<p>The member from New England sat pale and trembling,
+in his soul the anguish of the mortal combat between his
+Puritan conscience, the iron heritage of centuries, and the
+order of his captain.</p>
+<p>When the Clerk of the Senate called his name, still the
+battle raged. He sat in silence, the whiteness of death
+about his lips, while the clerk at a signal from the Chair
+paused.</p>
+<p>And then a scene the like of which was never known
+in American history! August Senators crowded around
+his desk, begging, shouting, imploring, and demanding
+that a fellow Senator break his solemn word of
+honour!</p>
+<p>For a moment pandemonium reigned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Vote! Vote! Call his name again!&#8221; they shouted.</p>
+<p>High above all rang the voice of Charles Sumner, leading
+the wild chorus, crying:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Vote! Vote! Vote!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The galleries hissed and cheered&mdash;the cheers at last
+drowning every hiss.</p>
+<p>Stoneman pushed his way among the mob which surrounded
+the badgered Puritan as he attempted to
+retreat into the cloakroom.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you vote?&#8221; he hissed, his eyes flashing poison.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My conscience will not permit it,&#8221; he faltered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;To hell with your conscience!&#8221; the old leader thundered.
+&#8220;Go back to your seat, ask the clerk to call your
+name, and vote, or by the living God I&#8217;ll read you out of
+the party to-night and brand you a snivelling coward, a
+copperhead, a renegade, and traitor!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></p>
+<p>Trembling from head to foot, he staggered back to his
+seat, the cold sweat standing in beads on his forehead, and
+gasped:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Call my name!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The shrill voice of the clerk rang out in the stillness like
+the peal of a trumpet:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Roman!&#8221;</p>
+<p>And the deed was done.</p>
+<p>A cheer burst from his colleagues, and the roll-call
+proceeded.</p>
+<p>When Stockton&#8217;s name was reached he sprang to his
+feet, voted for himself, and made a second tie!</p>
+<p>With blank faces they turned to the leader, who ordered
+Charles Sumner to move that the Senator from New
+Jersey be not allowed to answer his name on an issue
+involving his own seat.</p>
+<p>It was carried. Again the roll was called, and Stockton
+expelled by a majority of one.</p>
+<p>In the moment of ominous silence which followed, a
+yellow woman of sleek animal beauty leaned far over the
+gallery rail and laughed aloud.</p>
+<p>The passage of each act of the Revolutionary programme
+over the veto of the President was now but a
+matter of form. The act to degrade his office by forcing
+him to keep a cabinet officer who daily insulted him, the
+Civil Rights Bill, and the Freedman&#8217;s Bureau Bill followed
+in rapid succession.</p>
+<p>Stoneman&#8217;s crowning Reconstruction Act was passed,
+two years after the war had closed, shattering the Union
+again into fragments, blotting the names of ten great
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span>
+Southern States from its roll, and dividing their territory
+into five Military Districts under the control of belted
+satraps.</p>
+<p>When this measure was vetoed by the President, it
+came accompanied by a message whose words will be forever
+etched in fire on the darkest page of the Nation&#8217;s
+life.</p>
+<p>Amid hisses, curses, jeers, and cat-calls, the Clerk of the
+House read its burning words:</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>The power thus given to the commanding officer over the
+people of each district is that of an absolute monarch. His
+mere will is to take the place of law. He may make a criminal
+code of his own; he can make it as bloody as any recorded
+in history, or he can reserve the privilege of acting on the
+impulse of his private passions in each case that arises.</i></p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Here is a bill of attainer against nine millions of people
+at once. It is based upon an accusation so vague as to be
+scarcely intelligible, and found to be true upon no credible
+evidence. Not one of the nine millions was heard in his
+own defence. The representatives even of the doomed parties
+were excluded from all participation in the trial. The
+conviction is to be followed by the most ignominious punishment
+ever inflicted on large masses of men. It disfranchises
+them by hundreds of thousands and degrades them all&mdash;even
+those who are admitted to be guiltless&mdash;from the rank
+of freemen to the condition of slaves.</i></p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Such power has not been wielded by any monarch in England
+for more than five hundred years, and in all that time
+no people who speak the English tongue have borne such
+servitude.</i>&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></p>
+<p>When the last jeering cat-call which greeted this message
+of the Chief Magistrate had died away on the floor
+and in the galleries, old Stoneman rose, with a smile
+playing about his grim mouth, and introduced his bill to
+impeach the President of the United States and remove
+him from office.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VIII_A_DREAM' id='VIII_A_DREAM'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Dream</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Elsie spent weeks of happiness in an abandonment
+of joy to the spell of her lover. His charm
+was resistless. His gift of delicate intimacy, the
+eloquence with which he expressed his love, and yet the
+manly dignity with which he did it, threw a spell no
+woman could resist.</p>
+<p>Each day&#8217;s working hours were given to his father&#8217;s
+case and to the study of law. If there was work to do, he
+did it, and then struck the word care from his life, giving
+himself body and soul to his love. Great events were
+moving. The shock of the battle between Congress and
+the President began to shake the Republic to its foundations.
+He heard nothing, felt nothing, save the music of
+Elsie&#8217;s voice.</p>
+<p>And she knew it. She had only played with lovers
+before. She had never seen one of Ben&#8217;s kind, and he
+took her by storm. His creed was simple. The chief
+end of life is to glorify the girl you love. Other things
+could wait. And he let them wait. He ignored their
+existence.</p>
+<p>But one cloud cast its shadow over the girl&#8217;s heart during
+these red-letter days of life&mdash;the fear of what her
+father would do to her lover&#8217;s people. Ben had asked her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span>
+whether he must speak to him. When she said &#8220;No,
+not yet,&#8221; he forgot that such a man lived. As for his
+politics, he knew nothing and cared less.</p>
+<p>But the girl knew and thought with sickening dread,
+until she forgot her fears in the joy of his laughter. Ben
+laughed so heartily, so insinuatingly, the contagion of his
+fun could not be resisted.</p>
+<p>He would sit for hours and confess to her the secrets of
+his boyish dreams of glory in war, recount his thrilling
+adventures and daring deeds with such enthusiasm that
+his cause seemed her own, and the pity and the anguish of
+the ruin of his people hurt her with the keen sense of personal
+pain. His love for his native State was so genuine,
+his pride in the bravery and goodness of its people so
+chivalrous, she began to see for the first time how the
+cords which bound the Southerner to his soil were of the
+heart&#8217;s red blood.</p>
+<p>She began to understand why the war, which had
+seemed to her a wicked, cruel, and causeless rebellion, was
+the one inevitable thing in our growth from a loose group
+of sovereign States to a United Nation. Love had given
+her his point of view.</p>
+<p>Secret grief over her father&#8217;s course began to grow into
+conscious fear. With unerring instinct she felt the fatal
+day drawing nearer when these two men, now of her inmost
+life, must clash in mortal enmity.</p>
+<p>She saw little of her father. He was absorbed with
+fevered activity and deadly hate in his struggle with the
+President.</p>
+<p>Brooding over her fears one night, she had tried to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span>
+interest Ben in politics. To her surprise she found that
+he knew nothing of her father&#8217;s real position or power as
+leader of his party. The stunning tragedy of the war had
+for the time crushed out of his consciousness all political
+ideas, as it had for most young Southerners. He took her
+hand while a dreamy look overspread his swarthy face:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t cross a bridge till you come to it. I learned
+that in the war. Politics are a mess. Let me tell you
+something that counts&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He felt her hand&#8217;s soft pressure and reverently kissed
+it. &#8220;Listen,&#8221; he whispered. &#8220;I was dreaming last
+night after I left you of the home we&#8217;ll build. Just back
+of our place, on the hill overlooking the river, my father
+and mother planted trees in exact duplicate of the ones
+they placed around our house when they were married.
+They set these trees in honour of the first-born of their
+love, that he should make his nest there when grown.
+But it was not for him. He had pitched his tent on
+higher ground, and the others with him. This place
+will be mine. There are forty varieties of trees, all
+grown&mdash;elm, maple, oak, holly, pine, cedar, magnolia,
+and every fruit and flowering stem that grows in our
+friendly soil. A little house, built near the vacant space
+reserved for the homestead, is nicely kept by a farmer,
+and birds have learned to build in every shrub and tree.
+All the year their music rings its chorus&mdash;one long overture
+awaiting the coming of my bride&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie sighed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Listen, dear,&#8221; he went on eagerly. &#8220;Last night I
+dreamed the South had risen from her ruins. I saw you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>
+there. I saw our home standing amid a bower of roses
+your hands had planted. The full moon wrapped it in
+soft light, while you and I walked hand in hand in silence
+beneath our trees. But fairer and brighter than the
+moon was the face of her I loved, and sweeter than all
+the songs of birds the music of her voice!&#8221;</p>
+<p>A tear dimmed the girl&#8217;s warm eyes, and a deeper
+flush mantled her cheeks, as she lifted her face and whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Kiss me.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IX_THE_KING_AMUSES_HIMSELF' id='IX_THE_KING_AMUSES_HIMSELF'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The King Amuses Himself</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>With savage energy the Great Commoner
+pressed to trial the first impeachment of
+a President of the United States for high
+crimes and misdemeanours.</p>
+<p>His bill to confiscate the property of the Southern
+people was already pending on the calendar of the House.
+This bill was the most remarkable ever written in the
+English language or introduced into a legislative body of
+the Aryan race. It provided for the confiscation of
+ninety per cent. of the land of ten great States of the
+American Union. To each negro in the South was allotted
+forty acres from the estate of his former master,
+and the remaining millions of acres were to be divided
+among the &#8220;loyal who had suffered by reason of the
+Rebellion.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The execution of this, the most stupendous crime
+ever conceived by an English lawmaker, involving the
+exile and ruin of millions of innocent men, women, and
+children, could not be intrusted to Andrew Johnson.</p>
+<p>No such measure could be enforced so long as any man
+was President and Commander-in-chief of the Army and
+Navy who claimed his title under the Constitution.
+Hence the absolute necessity of his removal.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></p>
+<p>The conditions of society were ripe for this daring
+enterprise.</p>
+<p>Not only was the Ship of State in the hands of revolutionists
+who had boarded her in the storm stress of a
+civic convulsion, but among them swarmed the pirate
+captains of the boldest criminals who ever figured in the
+story of a nation.</p>
+<p>The first great Railroad Lobby, with continental empires
+at stake, thronged the Capitol with its lawyers,
+agents, barkers, and hired courtesans.</p>
+<p>The Cotton Thieves, who operated through a ring of
+Treasury agents, had confiscated unlawfully three million
+bales of cotton hidden in the South during the war
+and at its close, the last resource of a ruined people. The
+Treasury had received a paltry twenty thousand bales
+for the use of its name with which to seize alleged &#8220;property
+of the Confederate Government.&#8221; The value of
+this cotton, stolen from the widows and orphans, the
+maimed and crippled, of the South was over $700,000,000
+in gold&mdash;a capital sufficient to have started an impoverished
+people again on the road to prosperity. The
+agents of this ring surrounded the halls of legislation,
+guarding their booty from envious eyes, and demanding
+the enactment of vaster schemes of legal confiscation.</p>
+<p>The Whiskey Ring had just been formed, and began its
+system of gigantic frauds by which it scuttled the Treasury.</p>
+<p>Above them all towered the figure of Oakes Ames,
+whose master mind had organized the <i>Crédit Mobilier</i>
+steal. This vast infamy had already eaten its way into
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>
+the heart of Congress and dug the graves of many illustrious
+men.</p>
+<p>So open had become the shame that Stoneman was compelled
+to increase his committees in the morning, when a
+corrupt majority had been bought the night before.</p>
+<p>He arose one day, and looking at the distinguished
+Speaker, who was himself the secret associate of Oakes
+Ames, said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Speaker: while the House slept, the enemy has
+sown tares among our wheat. The corporations of this
+country, having neither bodies to be kicked nor souls to
+be lost, have, <i>perhaps</i> by the power of argument alone,
+beguiled from the majority of my Committee the member
+from Connecticut. The enemy have now a majority of
+one. I move to increase the Committee to twelve.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Speaker Colfax, soon to be hurled from the Vice-president&#8217;s
+chair for his part with those thieves, increased his
+Committee.</p>
+<p>Everybody knew that &#8220;the power of argument alone&#8221;
+meant ten thousand dollars cash for the gentleman from
+Connecticut, who did not appear on the floor for a week,
+fearing the scorpion tongue of the old Commoner.</p>
+<p>A Congress which found it could make and unmake
+laws in defiance of the Executive went mad. Taxation
+soared to undreamed heights, while the currency was depreciated
+and subject to the wildest fluctuations.</p>
+<p>The statute books were loaded with laws that shackled
+chains of monopoly on generations yet unborn. Public
+lands wide as the reach of empires were voted as gifts to
+private corporations, and subsidies of untold millions
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>
+fixed as a charge upon the people and their children&#8217;s
+children.</p>
+<p>The demoralization incident to a great war, the waste
+of unheard-of sums of money, the giving of contracts involving
+millions by which fortunes were made in a night,
+the riot of speculation and debauchery by those who
+tried to get rich suddenly without labour, had created a
+new Capital of the Nation. The vulture army of the base,
+venal, unpatriotic, and corrupt, which had swept down,
+a black cloud, in wartime to take advantage of the misfortunes
+of the Nation, had settled in Washington and
+gave new tone to its life.</p>
+<p>Prior to the Civil War the Capital was ruled, and the
+standards of its social and political life fixed, by an aristocracy
+founded on brains, culture, and blood. Power
+was with few exceptions intrusted to an honourable
+body of high-spirited public officials. Now a negro
+electorate controlled the city government, and gangs
+of drunken negroes, its sovereign citizens, paraded the
+streets at night firing their muskets unchallenged and
+unmolested.</p>
+<p>A new mob of onion-laden breath, mixed with perspiring
+African odour, became the symbol of American
+Democracy.</p>
+<p>A new order of society sprouted in this corruption.
+The old high-bred ways, tastes, and enthusiasms were
+driven into the hiding-places of a few families and cherished
+as relics of the past.</p>
+<p>Washington, choked with scrofulous wealth, bowed the
+knee to the Almighty Dollar. The new altar was covered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span>
+with a black mould of human blood&mdash;but no questions
+were asked.</p>
+<p>A mulatto woman kept the house of the foremost man
+of the Nation and received his guests with condescension.</p>
+<p>In this atmosphere of festering vice and gangrene passions,
+the struggle between the Great Commoner and the
+President on which hung the fate of the South approached
+its climax.</p>
+<p>The whole Nation was swept into the whirlpool, and
+business was paralyzed. Two years after the close of a
+victorious war the credit of the Republic dropped until
+its six per cent. bonds sold in the open market for seventy-three
+cents on the dollar.</p>
+<p>The revolutionary junta in control of the Capital was
+within a single step of the subversion of the Government
+and the establishment of a Dictator in the White
+House.</p>
+<p>A convention was called in Philadelphia to restore
+fraternal feeling, heal the wounds of war, preserve the
+Constitution, and restore the Union of the fathers. It
+was a grand assemblage representing the heart and brain
+of the Nation. Members of Lincoln&#8217;s first Cabinet,
+protesting Senators and Congressmen, editors of great
+Republican and Democratic newspapers, heroes of both
+armies, long estranged, met for a common purpose. When
+a group of famous negro worshippers from Boston suddenly
+entered the hall, arm in arm with ex-slaveholders
+from South Carolina, the great meeting rose and walls and
+roof rang with thunder peals of applause.</p>
+<p>Their committee, headed by a famous editor, journeyed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span>
+to Washington to appeal to the Master at the Capitol.
+They sought him not in the White House, but in the
+little Black House in an obscure street on the hill.</p>
+<p>The brown woman received them with haughty dignity,
+and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Stoneman cannot be seen at this hour. It is
+after nine o&#8217;clock. I will submit to him your request for
+an audience to-morrow morning.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must see him to-night,&#8221; replied the editor, with
+rising anger.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The king is amusing himself,&#8221; said the yellow woman,
+with a touch of malice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where is he?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Her catlike eyes rolled from side to side, and a smile
+played about her full lips as she said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will find him at Hall &amp; Pemberton&#8217;s gambling
+hell&mdash;you&#8217;ve lived in Washington. You know the
+way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>With a muttered oath the editor turned on his heel and
+led his two companions to the old Commoner&#8217;s favourite
+haunt. There could be no better time or place to approach
+him than seated at one of its tables laden with rare
+wines and savoury dishes.</p>
+<p>On reaching the well-known number of Hall &amp; Pemberton&#8217;s
+place, the editor entered the unlocked door,
+passed with his friends along the soft-carpeted hall, and
+ascended the stairs. Here the door was locked. A sudden
+pull of the bell, and a pair of bright eyes peeped
+through a small grating in the centre of the door revealed
+by the sliding of its panel.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span></p>
+<p>The keen eyes glanced at the proffered card, the door
+flew open, and a well-dressed mulatto invited them with
+cordial welcome to enter.</p>
+<p>Passing along another hall, they were ushered into a
+palatial suite of rooms furnished in princely state. The
+floors were covered with the richest and softest carpets&mdash;so
+soft and yielding that the tramp of a thousand feet
+could not make the faintest echo. The walls and ceilings
+were frescoed by the brush of a great master, and hung
+with works of art worth a king&#8217;s ransom. Heavy curtains,
+in colours of exquisite taste, masked each window,
+excluding all sound from within or without.</p>
+<p>The rooms blazed with light from gorgeous chandeliers
+of trembling crystals, shimmering and flashing from the
+ceilings like bouquets of diamonds.</p>
+<p>Negro servants, faultlessly dressed, attended the slightest
+want of every guest with the quiet grace and courtesy
+of the lost splendours of the old South.</p>
+<p>The proprietor, with courtly manners, extended his
+hand:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Welcome, gentlemen; you are my guests. The tables
+and the wines are at your service without price. Eat,
+drink, and be merry&mdash;play or not, as you please.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A smile lighted his dark eyes, but faded out near his
+mouth&mdash;cold and rigid.</p>
+<p>At the farther end of the last room hung the huge painting
+of a leopard, so vivid and real its black and tawny
+colours, so furtive and wild its restless eyes, it seemed
+alive and moving behind invisible bars.</p>
+<p>Just under it, gorgeously set in its jewel-studded frame,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span>
+stood the magic green table on which men staked their
+gold and lost their souls.</p>
+<p>The rooms were crowded with Congressmen, Government
+officials, officers of the Army and Navy, clerks,
+contractors, paymasters, lobbyists, and professional
+gamblers.</p>
+<p>The centre of an admiring group was a Congressman
+who had during the last session of the House broken the
+&#8220;bank&#8221; in a single night, winning more than a hundred
+thousand dollars. He had lost it all and more in two
+weeks, and the courteous proprietor now held orders for
+the lion&#8217;s share of the total pay and mileage of nearly
+every member of the House of Representatives.</p>
+<p>Over that table thousands of dollars of the people&#8217;s
+money had been staked and lost during the war by
+quartermasters, paymasters, and agents in charge of public
+funds. Many a man had approached that green table
+with a stainless name and left it a perjured thief. Some
+had been carried out by those handsomely dressed waiters,
+and the man with the cold mouth could point out,
+if he would, more than one stain on the soft carpet which
+marked the end of a tragedy deeper than the pen of romancer
+has ever sounded.</p>
+<p>Stoneman at the moment was playing. He was rarely
+a heavy player, but he had just staked a twenty-dollar
+gold piece and won fourteen hundred dollars.</p>
+<p>Howle, always at his elbow ready for a &#8220;sleeper&#8221; or a
+stake, said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Put a stack on the ace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He did so, lost, and repeated it twice.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Do it again,&#8221; urged Howle. &#8220;I&#8217;ll stake my reputation
+that the ace wins this time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>With a doubting glance at Howle, old Stoneman shoved
+a stack of blue chips, worth fifty dollars, over the ace,
+playing it to win on Howle&#8217;s judgment and reputation.
+It lost.</p>
+<p>Without the ghost of a smile, the old statesman said:
+&#8220;Howle, you owe me five cents.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As he turned abruptly on his club foot from the
+table, he encountered the editor and his friends, a Western
+manufacturer and a Wall Street banker. They were
+soon seated at a table in a private room, over a dinner of
+choice oysters, diamond-back terrapin, canvas-back duck,
+and champagne.</p>
+<p>They presented their plea for a truce in his fight until
+popular passion had subsided.</p>
+<p>He heard them in silence. His answer was characteristic:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The will of the people, gentlemen, is supreme,&#8221; he
+said with a sneer. &#8220;We are the people. &#8216;The man at
+the other end of the avenue&#8217; has dared to defy the will
+of Congress. He must go. If the Supreme Court lifts
+a finger in this fight, it will reduce that tribunal to one
+man or increase it to twenty at our pleasure.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But the Constitution&mdash;&mdash;&#8221; broke in the chairman.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are higher laws than paper compacts. We
+are conquerors treading conquered soil. Our will alone
+is the source of law. The drunken boor who claims to
+be President is in reality an alien of a conquered province.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;We protest,&#8221; exclaimed the man of money, &#8220;against
+the use of such epithets in referring to the Chief Magistrate
+of the Republic!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And why, pray?&#8221; sneered the Commoner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;In the name of common decency, law, and order. The
+President is a man of inherent power, even if he did learn
+to read after his marriage. Like many other Americans,
+he is a self-made man&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Glad to hear it,&#8221; snapped Stoneman. &#8220;It relieves
+Almighty God of a fearful responsibility.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They left him in disgust and dismay.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='X_TOSSED_BY_THE_STORM' id='X_TOSSED_BY_THE_STORM'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Tossed by the Storm</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>As the storm of passion raised by the clash between
+her father and the President rose steadily to the
+sweep of a cyclone, Elsie felt her own life but a
+leaf driven before its fury.</p>
+<p>Her only comfort she found in Phil, whose letters to her
+were full of love for Margaret. He asked Elsie a thousand
+foolish questions about what she thought of his
+chances.</p>
+<p>To her own confessions he was all sympathy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of father&#8217;s wild scheme of vengeance against the
+South,&#8221; he wrote, &#8220;I am heartsick. I hate it on principle,
+to say nothing of a girl I know. I am with General
+Grant for peace and reconciliation. What does your
+lover think of it all? I can feel your anguish. The bill to
+rob the Southern people of their land, which I hear is
+pending, would send your sweetheart and mine, our
+enemies, into beggared exile. What will happen in the
+South? Riot and bloodshed, of course&mdash;perhaps a guerilla
+war of such fierce and terrible cruelty humanity sickens at
+the thought. I fear the Rebellion unhinged our father&#8217;s
+reason on some things. He was too old to go to the front;
+the cannon&#8217;s breath would have cleared the air and sweetened
+his temper. But its healing was denied. I believe
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>
+the tawny leopardess who keeps his house influences him
+in this cruel madness. I could wring her neck with exquisite
+pleasure. Why he allows her to stay and cloud
+his life with her she-devil temper and fog his name with
+vulgar gossip is beyond me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Seated in the park on the Capitol hill the day after her
+father had introduced his Confiscation Bill in the House,
+pending the impeachment of the President, she again attempted
+to draw Ben out as to his feelings on politics.</p>
+<p>She waited in sickening fear and bristling pride for the
+first burst of his anger which would mean their separation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do I feel?&#8221; he asked. &#8220;Don&#8217;t feel at all. The
+surrender of General Lee was an event so stunning, my
+mind has not yet staggered past it. Nothing much can
+happen after that, so it don&#8217;t matter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Negro suffrage don&#8217;t matter?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No. We can manage the negro,&#8221; he said calmly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;With thousands of your own people disfranchised?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The negroes will vote with us, as they worked for us
+during the war. If they give them the ballot, they&#8217;ll wish
+they hadn&#8217;t.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben looked at her tenderly, bent near, and whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t waste your sweet breath talking about such
+things. My politics is bounded on the North by a pair
+of amber eyes, on the South by a dimpled little chin, on
+the East and West by a rosy cheek. Words do not frame
+its speech. Its language is a mere sign, a pressure of the
+lips&mdash;yet it thrills body and soul beyond all words.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie leaned closer, and looking at the Capitol, said
+wistfully:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t believe you know anything that goes on in
+that big marble building.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I do.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What happened there yesterday?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You honoured it by putting your beautiful feet on its
+steps. I saw the whole huge pile of cold marble suddenly
+glow with warm sunlight and flash with beauty as you
+entered it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl nestled still closer to his side, feeling her utter
+helplessness in the rapids of the Niagara through which
+they were being whirled by blind and merciless forces.
+For the moment she forgot all fears in his nearness and the
+sweet pressure of his hand.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XI_THE_SUPREME_TEST' id='XI_THE_SUPREME_TEST'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Supreme Test</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is the glory of the American Republic that every
+man who has filled the office of President has grown
+in stature when clothed with its power and has
+proved himself worthy of its solemn trust. It is our
+highest claim to the respect of the world and the vindication
+of man&#8217;s capacity to govern himself.</p>
+<p>The impeachment of President Andrew Johnson would
+mark either the lowest tide-mud of degradation to which
+the Republic could sink, or its end. In this trial our
+system would be put to its severest strain. If a partisan
+majority in Congress could remove the Executive and
+defy the Supreme Court, stability to civic institutions
+was at an end, and the breath of a mob would become the
+sole standard of law.</p>
+<p>Congress had thrown to the winds the last shreds of
+decency in its treatment of the Chief Magistrate. Stoneman
+led this campaign of insult, not merely from feelings
+of personal hate, but because he saw that thus the President&#8217;s
+conviction before the Senate would become all but
+inevitable.</p>
+<p>When his messages arrived from the White House
+they were thrown into the waste-basket without being
+read, amid jeers, hisses, curses, and ribald laughter.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></p>
+<p>In lieu of their reading, Stoneman would send to the
+Clerk&#8217;s desk an obscene tirade from a party newspaper,
+and the Clerk of the House would read it amid the
+mocking groans, laughter, and applause of the floor and
+galleries.</p>
+<p>A favourite clipping described the President as &#8220;an insolent
+drunken brute, in comparison with whom Caligula&#8217;s
+horse was respectable.&#8221;</p>
+<p>In the Senate, whose members were to sit as sworn
+judges to decide the question of impeachment, Charles
+Sumner used language so vulgar that he was called to
+order. Sustained by the Chair and the Senate, he repeated
+it with increased violence, concluding with cold
+venom:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Andrew Johnson has become the successor of Jefferson
+Davis. In holding him up to judgment I do not
+dwell on his beastly intoxication the day he took the oath
+as Vice-president, nor do I dwell on his maudlin speeches
+by which he has degraded the country, nor hearken to the
+reports of pardons sold, or of personal corruption.
+These things are bad. But he has usurped the powers
+of Congress.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Conover, the perjured wretch, in prison for his crimes
+as a professional witness in the assassination trial, now
+circulated the rumour that he could give evidence that
+President Johnson was the assassin of Lincoln. Without
+a moment&#8217;s hesitation, Stoneman&#8217;s henchmen sent a petition
+to the President for the pardon of this villain that
+he might turn against the man who had pardoned him
+and swear his life away! This scoundrel was borne in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>
+triumph from prison to the Capitol and placed before the
+Impeachment Committee, to whom he poured out his
+wondrous tale.</p>
+<p>The sewers and prisons were dragged for every scrap
+of testimony to be found, and the day for the trial approached.</p>
+<p>As it drew nearer, excitement grew intense. Swarms of
+adventurers expecting the overthrow of the Government
+crowded into Washington. Dreams of honours, profits,
+and division of spoils held riot. Gamblers thronged the
+saloons and gaming-houses, betting their gold on the
+President&#8217;s head.</p>
+<p>Stoneman found the business more serious than even
+his daring spirit had dreamed. His health suddenly gave
+way under the strain, and he was put to bed by his physician
+with the warning that the least excitement would be
+instantly fatal.</p>
+<p>Elsie entered the little Black House on the hill for the
+first time since her trip at the age of twelve, some eight
+years before. She installed an army nurse, took charge
+of the place, and ignored the existence of the brown
+woman, refusing to speak to her or permit her to enter
+her father&#8217;s room.</p>
+<p>His illness made it necessary to choose an assistant to
+conduct the case before the High Court. There was but
+one member of the House whose character and ability
+fitted him for the place&mdash;General Benj. F. Butler, of
+Massachusetts, whose name was enough to start a riot in
+any assembly in America.</p>
+<p>His selection precipitated a storm at the Capitol. A
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span>
+member leaped to his feet on the floor of the House and
+shouted:</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I were to characterize all that is pusillanimous in
+war, inhuman in peace, forbidden in morals, and corrupt
+in politics, I could name it in one word&mdash;Butlerism!&#8221;</p>
+<p>For this speech he was ordered to apologize, and when
+he refused with scorn they voted that the Speaker publicly
+censure him. The Speaker did so, but winked at the
+offender while uttering the censure.</p>
+<p>John A. Bingham, of Ohio, who had been chosen for
+his powers of oratory to make the principal speech against
+the President, rose in the House and indignantly refused
+to serve on the Board of Impeachment with such a man.</p>
+<p>General Butler replied with crushing insolence:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is true, Mr. Speaker, that I may have made an
+error of judgment in trying to blow up Fort Fisher with
+a powder ship at sea. I did the best I could with the
+talents God gave me. An angel could have done no more.
+At least I bared my own breast in my country&#8217;s defence&mdash;a
+thing the distinguished gentleman who insults me has
+not ventured to do&mdash;his only claim to greatness being
+that, behind prison walls, on perjured testimony, his
+fervid eloquence sent an innocent American mother
+screaming to the gallows.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The fight was ended only by an order from the old
+Commoner&#8217;s bed to Bingham to shut his mouth and
+work with Butler. When the President had been
+crushed, then they could settle Kilkenny-cat issues.
+Bingham obeyed.</p>
+<p>When the august tribunal assembled in the Senate
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span>
+Chamber, fifty-five Senators, presided over by Salmon
+P. Chase, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, constituted
+the tribunal. They took their seats in a semicircle in
+front of the Vice-president&#8217;s desk at which the Chief
+Justice sat. Behind them crowded the one hundred
+and ninety members of the House of Representatives, the
+accusers of the ruler of the mightiest Republic in human
+history. Every inch of space in the galleries was crowded
+with brilliantly dressed men and women, army officers
+in gorgeous uniforms, and the pomp and splendour of the
+ministers of every foreign court of the world. In spectacular
+grandeur no such scene was ever before witnessed
+in the annals of justice.</p>
+<p>The peculiar personal appearance of General Butler,
+whose bald head shone with insolence while his eye
+seemed to be winking over his record as a warrior and
+making fun of his fellow-manager Bingham, added a
+touch of humour to the solemn scene.</p>
+<p>The magnificent head of the Chief Justice suggested
+strange thoughts to the beholder. He had been summoned
+but the day before to try Jefferson Davis for the
+treason of declaring the Southern States out of the Union.
+To-day he sat down to try the President of the United
+States for declaring them to be in the Union! He had
+protested with warmth that he could not conduct both
+these trials at once.</p>
+<p>The Chief Justice took oath to &#8220;do impartial justice
+according to the Constitution and the laws,&#8221; and to the
+chagrin of Sumner administered this oath to each Senator
+in turn. When Benjamin F. Wade&#8217;s name was called,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span>
+Hendricks, of Indiana, objected to his sitting as judge.
+He could succeed temporarily to the Presidency, as the
+presiding officer of the Senate, and his own vote might
+decide the fate of the accused and determine his own
+succession. The law forbids the Vice-president to sit on
+such trials. It should apply with more vigour in his
+case. Besides, he had without a hearing already pronounced
+the President guilty.</p>
+<p>Sumner, forgetting his motion to prevent Stockton&#8217;s
+voting against his own expulsion, flew to the defence of
+Wade. Hendricks smilingly withdrew his objection, and
+&#8220;Bluff Ben Wade&#8221; took the oath and sat down to judge
+his own cause with unruffled front.</p>
+<p>When the case was complete, the whole bill of indictment
+stood forth a tissue of stupid malignity without a
+shred of evidence to support its charges.</p>
+<p>On the last day of the trial, when the closing speeches
+were being made, there was a stir at the door. The
+throng of men, packing every inch of floor space, were
+pushed rudely aside. The crowd craned their necks,
+Senators turned and looked behind them to see what the
+disturbance meant, and the Chief Justice rapped for order.</p>
+<p>Suddenly through the dense mass appeared the forms
+of two gigantic negroes carrying an old man. His grim
+face, white and rigid, and his big club foot hanging
+pathetically from those black arms, could not be mistaken.
+A thrill of excitement swept the floor and galleries,
+and a faint cheer rippled the surface, quickly
+suppressed by the gavel.</p>
+<p>The negroes placed him in an armchair facing the semicircle
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span>
+of Senators, and crouched down on their haunches
+beside him. Their kinky heads, black skin, thick lips,
+white teeth, and flat noses made for the moment a
+curious symbolic frame for the chalk-white passion of the
+old Commoner&#8217;s face.</p>
+<p>No sculptor ever dreamed a more sinister emblem of
+the corruption of a race of empire builders than this
+group. Its black figures, wrapped in the night of four
+thousand years of barbarism, squatted there the &#8220;equal&#8221;
+of their master, grinning at his forms of justice, the evolution
+of forty centuries of Aryan genius. To their brute
+strength the white fanatic in the madness of his hate had
+appealed, and for their hire he had bartered the birthright
+of a mighty race of freemen.</p>
+<p>The speaker hurried to his conclusion that the half-fainting
+master might deliver his message. In the meanwhile
+his eyes, cold and thrilling, sought the secrets of the
+souls of the judges before him.</p>
+<p>He had not come to plead or persuade. He had
+eluded the vigilance of his daughter and nurse, escaped
+with the aid of the brown woman and her black allies, and
+at the peril of his life had come to command. Every
+energy of his indomitable will he was using now to keep
+from fainting. He felt that if he could but look those men
+in the face they would not dare to defy his word.</p>
+<p>He shambled painfully to his feet amid a silence that
+was awful. Again the sheer wonder of the man&#8217;s personality
+held the imagination of the audience. His audacity,
+his fanaticism, and the strange contradictions of his character
+stirred the mind of friend and foe alike&mdash;this man
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span>
+who tottered there before them, holding off Death with
+his big ugly left hand, while with his right he clutched at
+the throat of his foe! Honest and dishonest, cruel and
+tender, great and mean, a party leader who scorned
+public opinion, a man of conviction, yet the most unscrupulous
+politician, a philosopher who preached the
+equality of man, yet a tyrant who hated the world and
+despised all men!</p>
+<p>His very presence before them an open defiance of love
+and life and death, would not his word ring omnipotent
+when the verdict was rendered? Every man in the great
+courtroom believed it as he looked on the rows of Senators
+hanging on his lips.</p>
+<p>He spoke at first with unnatural vigour, a faint flush of
+fever lighting his white face, his voice quivering yet penetrating.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Upon that man among you who shall dare to acquit
+the President,&#8221; he boldly threatened, &#8220;I hurl the everlasting
+curse of a Nation&mdash;an infamy that shall rive and
+blast his children&#8217;s children until they shrink from their
+own name as from the touch of pollution!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He gasped for breath, his restless hands fumbled at his
+throat, he staggered and would have fallen had not his
+black guards caught him. He revived, pushed them back
+on their haunches, and sat down. And then, with his big
+club foot thrust straight in front of him, his gnarled hands
+gripping the arms of his chair, the massive head shaking
+back and forth like a wounded lion, he continued his
+speech, which grew in fierce intensity with each laboured
+breath.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span></p>
+<p>The effect was electrical. Every Senator leaned forward
+to catch the lowest whisper, and so awful was the
+suspense in the galleries the listeners grew faint.</p>
+<p>When this last mad challenge was hurled into the teeth
+of the judges, the dazed crowd paused for breath and the
+galleries burst into a storm of applause.</p>
+<p>In vain the Chief Justice rose, his lionlike face livid
+with anger, pounded for order, and commanded the galleries
+to be cleared.</p>
+<p>They laughed at him. Roar after roar was the answer.
+The Chief Justice in loud angry tones ordered the Sergeant-at-Arms
+to clear the galleries.</p>
+<p>Men leaned over the rail and shouted in his face:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He can&#8217;t do it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He hasn&#8217;t got men enough!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let him try if he dares!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doorkeepers attempted to enforce order by
+announcing it in the name of the peace and dignity and
+sovereign power of the Senate over its sacred chamber.
+The crowd had now become a howling mob which jeered
+them.</p>
+<p>Senator Grimes, of Iowa, rose and demanded the reason
+why the Senate was thus insulted and the order had not
+been enforced.</p>
+<p>A volley of hisses greeted his question.</p>
+<p>The Chief Justice, evidently quite nervous, declared
+the order would be enforced.</p>
+<p>Senator Trumbull, of Illinois, moved that the offenders
+be arrested.</p>
+<p>In reply the crowd yelled:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;d like to see you do it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>At length the mob began to slowly leave the galleries
+under the impression that the High Court had adjourned.</p>
+<p>Suddenly a man cried out:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hold on! They ain&#8217;t going to adjourn. Let&#8217;s see it
+out!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Hundreds took their seats again. In the corridors a
+crowd began to sing in wild chorus:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Old Grimes is dead, that poor old man.&#8221; The women
+joined with glee. Between the verses the leader would
+curse the Iowa Senator as a traitor and copperhead.
+The singing could be distinctly heard by the Court as
+its roar floated through the open doors.</p>
+<p>When the Senate Chamber had been cleared and the
+most disgraceful scene that ever occurred within its
+portals had closed, the High Court Impeachment went
+into secret session to consider the evidence and its verdict.</p>
+<p>Within an hour from its adjournment it was known to
+the Managers that seven Republican Senators were
+doubtful, and that they formed a group under the leadership
+of two great constitutional lawyers who still believed
+in the sanctity of a judge&#8217;s oath&mdash;Lyman Trumbull, of
+Illinois, and William Pitt Fessenden, of Maine. Around
+them had gathered Senators Grimes, of Iowa, Van
+Winkle, of West Virginia, Fowler, of Tennessee, Henderson,
+of Missouri, and Ross, of Kansas. The Managers
+were in a panic. If these men dared to hold together with
+the twelve Democrats, the President would be acquitted
+by one vote&mdash;they could count thirty-four certain for conviction.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></p>
+<p>The Revolutionists threw to the winds the last scruple
+of decency, went into caucus and organized a conspiracy
+for forcing, within the few days which must pass before
+the verdict, these judges to submit to their decree.</p>
+<p>Fessenden and Trumbull were threatened with impeachment
+and expulsion from the Senate and bombarded
+by the most furious assaults from the press, which
+denounced them as infamous traitors, &#8220;as mean, repulsive,
+and noxious as hedgehogs in the cages of a travelling
+menagerie.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A mass meeting was held in Washington which said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Resolved, that we impeach Fessenden, Trumbull, and
+Grimes at the bar of justice and humanity, as traitors before
+whose guilt the infamy of Benedict Arnold becomes
+respectability and decency.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Managers sent out a circular telegram to every
+State from which came a doubtful judge:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Great danger to the peace of the country if impeachment
+fails. Send your Senators public opinion by resolutions,
+letters, and delegates.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The man who excited most wrath was Ross, of Kansas.
+That Kansas of all States should send a &#8220;traitor&#8221; was
+more than the spirits of the Revolutionists could bear.</p>
+<p>A mass meeting in Leavenworth accordingly sent him
+the telegram:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Kansas has heard the evidence and demands the conviction
+of the President.</p>
+<p>&#8220;D. R. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Anthony</span> and 1,000 others.&#8221;</p>
+<p>To this Ross replied:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have taken an oath to do impartial justice. I trust
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>
+I shall have the courage and honesty to vote according
+to the dictates of my judgment and for the highest good
+of my country.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He got his answer:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your motives are Indian contracts and greenbacks.
+Kansas repudiates you as she does all perjurers and
+skunks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Managers organized an inquisition for the purpose
+of torturing and badgering Ross into submission. His
+one vote was all they lacked.</p>
+<p>They laid siege to little Vinnie Ream, the sculptress,
+to whom Congress had awarded a contract for the statue
+of Lincoln. Her studio was in the crypt of the Capitol.
+They threatened her with the wrath of Congress, the
+loss of her contract, and ruin of her career unless she
+found a way to induce Senator Ross, whom she knew,
+to vote against the President.</p>
+<p>Such an attempt to gain by fraud the verdict of a common
+court of law would have sent its promoters to prison
+for felony. Yet the Managers of this case, before the
+highest tribunal of the world, not only did it without a
+blush of shame, but cursed as a traitor every man who
+dared to question their motives.</p>
+<p>As the day approached for the Court to vote, Senator
+Ross remained to friend and foe a sealed mystery. Reporters
+swarmed about him, the target of a thousand eyes.
+His rooms were besieged by his radical constituents who
+had been imported from Kansas in droves to browbeat
+him into a promise to convict. His movements day and
+night, his breakfast, his dinner, his supper, the clothes he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>
+wore, the colour of his cravat, his friends and companions,
+were chronicled in hourly bulletins and flashed over the
+wires from the delirious Capital.</p>
+<p>Chief Justice Chase called the High Court of Impeachment
+to order, to render its verdict. Old Stoneman had
+again been carried to his chair in the arms of two negroes,
+and sat with his cold eyes searching the faces of the
+judges.</p>
+<p>The excitement had reached the highest pitch of intensity.
+A sense of choking solemnity brooded over the
+scene. The feeling grew that the hour had struck which
+would test the capacity of man to establish an enduring
+Republic.</p>
+<p>The Clerk read the Eleventh Article, drawn by the
+Great Commoner as the supreme test.</p>
+<p>As its last words died away the Chief Justice rose
+amid a silence that was agony, placed his hands on the
+sides of the desk as if to steady himself, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Call the roll.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Each Senator answered &#8220;Guilty&#8221; or &#8220;Not Guilty,&#8221;
+exactly as they had been counted by the Managers, until
+Fessenden&#8217;s name was called.</p>
+<p>A moment of stillness and the great lawyer&#8217;s voice rang
+high, cold, clear, and resonant as a Puritan church bell on
+Sunday morning:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not Guilty!&#8221;</p>
+<p>A murmur, half groan and sigh, half cheer and cry,
+rippled the great hall.</p>
+<p>The other votes were discounted now save that of
+Edmund G. Ross, of Kansas. No human being on earth
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>
+knew what this man would do save the silent invisible
+man within his soul.</p>
+<p>Over the solemn trembling silence the voice of the
+Chief Justice rang:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Senator Ross, how say you? Is the respondent,
+Andrew Johnson, guilty or not guilty of a high misdemeanor
+as charged in this article?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The great Judge bent forward; his brow furrowed as
+Ross arose.</p>
+<p>His fellow Senators watched him spellbound. A thousand
+men and women, hanging from the galleries, focused
+their eyes on him. Old Stoneman drew his bristling
+brows down, watching him like an adder ready to
+strike, his lower lip protruding, his jaws clinched as a
+vise, his hands fumbling the arms of his chair.</p>
+<p>Every breath is held, every ear strained, as the answer
+falls from the sturdy Scotchman like the peal of a trumpet:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not Guilty!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The crowd breathes&mdash;a pause, a murmur, the shuffle
+of a thousand feet&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>The President is acquitted, and the Republic lives!</p>
+<p>The House assembled and received the report of the
+verdict. Old Stoneman pulled himself half erect, holding
+to his desk, addressed the Speaker, introduced his
+second bill for the impeachment of the President, and
+fell fainting in the arms of his black attendants.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XII_TRIUMPH_IN_DEFEAT' id='XII_TRIUMPH_IN_DEFEAT'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Triumph in Defeat</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Upon the failure to convict the President, Edwin
+M. Stanton resigned, sank into despair and
+died, and a soldier Secretary of War opened
+the prison doors.</p>
+<p>Ben Cameron and his father hurried Southward to a
+home and land passing under a cloud darker than the
+dust and smoke of blood-soaked battlefields&mdash;the Black
+Plague of Reconstruction.</p>
+<p>For two weeks the old Commoner wrestled in silence
+with Death. When at last he spoke, it was to the stalwart
+negroes who had called to see him and were standing
+by his bedside.</p>
+<p>Turning his deep-sunken eyes on them a moment, he
+said slowly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wonder whom I&#8217;ll get to carry me when you boys
+die!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie hurried to his side and kissed him tenderly. For
+a week his mind hovered in the twilight that lies between
+time and eternity. He seemed to forget the passions and
+fury of his fierce career and live over the memories of his
+youth, recalling pathetically its bitter poverty and its
+fair dreams. He would lie for hours and hold Elsie&#8217;s
+hand, pressing it gently.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p>
+<p>In one of his lucid moments he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;How beautiful you are, my child! You shall be a
+queen. I&#8217;ve dreamed of boundless wealth for you and
+my boy. My plans are Napoleonic&mdash;and I shall not
+fail&mdash;never fear&mdash;aye, beyond the dreams of avarice!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish no wealth save the heart treasure of those I
+love, father,&#8221; was the soft answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course, little day-dreamer. But the old cynic who
+has outlived himself and knows the mockery of time and
+things will be wisdom for your foolishness. You shall
+keep your toys. What pleases you shall please me. Yet
+I will be wise for us both.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She laid her hand upon his lips, and he kissed the warm
+little fingers.</p>
+<p>In these days of soul-nearness the iron heart softened
+as never before in love toward his children. Phil had
+hurried home from the West and secured his release from
+the remaining weeks of his term of service.</p>
+<p>As the father lay watching them move about the room,
+the cold light in his deep-set wonderful eyes would melt
+into a soft glow.</p>
+<p>As he grew stronger, the old fierce spirit of the unconquered
+leader began to assert itself. He would take up
+the fight where he left it off and carry it to victory.</p>
+<p>Elsie and Phil sent the doctor to tell him the truth and
+beg him to quit politics.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your work is done; you have but three months to live
+unless you go South and find new life,&#8221; was the verdict.</p>
+<p>&#8220;In either event I go to a warmer climate, eh, doctor?&#8221;
+said the cynic.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps,&#8221; was the laughing reply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good. It suits me better. I&#8217;ve had the move in
+mind. I can do more effective work in the South for the
+next two years. Your decision is fate. I&#8217;ll go at once.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor was taken aback.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come now,&#8221; he said persuasively. &#8220;Let a disinterested
+Englishman give you some advice. You&#8217;ve never
+taken any before. I give it as medicine, and I won&#8217;t put
+it on your bill. Slow down on politics. Your recent
+defeat should teach you a lesson in conservatism.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old Commoner&#8217;s powerful mouth became rigid,
+and the lower lip bulged:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Conservatism&mdash;fossil putrefaction!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But defeat?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Defeat?&#8221; cried the old man. &#8220;Who said I was defeated?
+The South lies in ashes at my feet&mdash;the very
+names of her proud States blotted from history. The
+Supreme Court awaits my nod. True, there&#8217;s a man
+boarding in the White House, and I vote to pay his bills;
+but the page who answers my beck and call has more
+power. Every measure on which I&#8217;ve set my heart is
+law, save one&mdash;my Confiscation Act&mdash;and this but waits
+the fulness of time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor, who was walking back and forth with his
+hands folded behind him, paused and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I marvel that a man of your personal integrity could
+conceive such a measure; you, who refused to accept
+the legal release of your debts until the last farthing was
+paid&mdash;you, whose cruelty of the lip is hideous, and yet
+beneath it so gentle a personality, I&#8217;ve seen the pages in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>
+the House stand at your back and mimic you while speaking,
+secure in the smile with which you turned to greet
+their fun. And yet you press this crime upon a brave
+and generous foe?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A wrong can have no rights,&#8221; said Stoneman calmly.
+&#8220;Slavery will not be dead until the landed aristocracy on
+which it rested is destroyed. I am not cruel or unjust.
+I am but fulfilling the largest vision of universal democracy
+that ever stirred the soul of man&mdash;a democracy that
+shall know neither rich nor poor, bond nor free, white nor
+black. If I use the wild pulse-beat of the rage of millions,
+it is only a means to an end&mdash;this grander vision of
+the soul.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then why not begin at home this vision, and give the
+stricken South a moment to rise?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No. The North is impervious to change, rich, proud,
+and unscathed by war. The South is in chaos and cannot
+resist. It is but the justice and wisdom of Heaven
+that the negro shall rule the land of his bondage. It is
+the only solution of the race problem. Lincoln&#8217;s contention
+that we could not live half white and half black
+is sound at the core. When we proclaim equality, social,
+political, and economic for the negro, we mean always to
+enforce it in the South. The negro will never be treated
+as an equal in the North. We are simply a set of cold-blooded
+liars on that subject, and always have been. To
+the Yankee the very physical touch of a negro is pollution.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you don&#8217;t believe this twaddle about equality?&#8221;
+asked the doctor.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes and no. Mankind in the large is a herd of mercenary
+gudgeons or fools. As a lawyer in Pennsylvania
+I have defended fifty murderers on trial for their lives.
+Forty-nine of them were guilty. All these I succeeded in
+acquitting. One of them was innocent. This one they
+hung. Can a man keep his face straight in such a world?
+Could negro blood degrade such stock? Might not an ape
+improve it? I preach equality as a poet and seer who sees
+a vision beyond the rim of the horizon of to-day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man&#8217;s eyes shone with the set stare of a fanatic.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you think the South is ready for this wild vision?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not ready, but helpless to resist. As a cold-blooded,
+scientific experiment, I mean to give the Black Man one
+turn at the Wheel of Life. It is an act of just retribution.
+Besides, in my plans I need his vote; and that settles it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But will your plans work? Your own reports show
+serious trouble in the South already.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never read my own reports. They are printed in
+molasses to catch flies. The Southern legislatures played
+into my hands by copying the laws of New England relating
+to Servants, Masters, Apprentices, and Vagrants.
+But even these were repealed at the first breath of criticism.
+Neither the Freedman&#8217;s Bureau nor the army has
+ever loosed its grip on the throat of the South for a moment.
+These disturbances and &#8216;atrocities&#8217; are dangerous
+only when printed on campaign fly-paper.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And how will you master and control these ten great
+Southern States?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Through my Reconstruction Acts by means of the
+Union League. As a secret between us, I am the soul of
+this order. I organized it in 1863 to secure my plan of
+confiscation. We pressed it on Lincoln. He repudiated
+it. We nominated Frémont at Cleveland against Lincoln
+in &#8217;64, and tried to split the party or force Lincoln
+to retire. Frémont, a conceited ass, went back on this
+plank in our platform, and we dropped him and helped
+elect Lincoln again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought the Union League a patriotic and social
+organization?&#8221; said the doctor in surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It has these features, but its sole aim as a secret order
+is to confiscate the property of the South. I will perfect
+this mighty organization until every negro stands drilled
+in serried line beneath its banners, send a solid delegation
+here to do my bidding, and return at the end of two years
+with a majority so overwhelming that my word will be
+law. I will pass my Confiscation Bill. If Ulysses S.
+Grant, the coming idol, falters, my second bill of Impeachment
+will only need the change of a name.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor shook his head.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Give up this madness. Your life is hanging by a
+thread. The Southern people even in their despair will
+never drink this black broth you are pressing to their
+lips.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;ve got to drink it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your decision is unalterable?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Absolutely. It&#8217;s the breath I breathe. As my physician
+you may select the place to which I shall be banished.
+It must be reached by rail and wire. I care not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>
+its name or size. I&#8217;ll make it the capital of the Nation.
+There&#8217;ll be poetic justice in setting up my establishment
+in a fallen slaveholder&#8217;s mansion.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor looked intently at the old man:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The study of men has become a sort of passion with
+me, but you are the deepest mystery I&#8217;ve yet encountered
+in this land of surprises.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And why?&#8221; asked the cynic.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because the secret of personality resides in motives,
+and I can&#8217;t find yours either in your actions or words.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman glanced at him sharply from beneath his
+wrinkled brows and snapped.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Keep on guessing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will. In the meantime I&#8217;m going to send you to
+the village of Piedmont, South Carolina. Your son and
+daughter both seem enthusiastic over this spot.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good; that settles it. And now that mine own have
+been conspiring against me,&#8221; said Stoneman confidentially,
+&#8220;a little guile on my part. Not a word of what
+has passed between us to my children. Tell them I agree
+with your plans and give up my work. I&#8217;ll give the same
+story to the press&mdash;I wish nothing to mar their happiness
+while in the South. My secret burdens need not
+cloud their young lives.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dr. Barnes took the old man by the hand:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I promise. My assistant has agreed to go with you.
+I&#8217;ll say good-bye. It&#8217;s an inspiration to look into a face
+like yours, lit by the splendour of an unconquerable will!
+But I want to say something to you before you set out on
+this journey.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Out with it,&#8221; said the Commoner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The breed to which the Southern white man belongs
+has conquered every foot of soil on this earth their feet
+have pressed for a thousand years. A handful of them
+hold in subjection three hundred millions in India. Place
+a dozen of them in the heart of Africa, and they will rule
+the continent unless you kill them&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wait,&#8221; cried Stoneman, &#8220;until I put a ballot in the
+hand of every negro and a bayonet at the breast of every
+white man from the James to the Rio Grande!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you a little story,&#8221; said the doctor with a smile.
+&#8220;I once had a half-grown eagle in a cage in my yard. The
+door was left open one day, and a meddlesome rooster
+hopped in to pick a fight. The eagle had been sick a
+week and seemed an easy mark. I watched. The rooster
+jumped and wheeled and spurred and picked pieces out
+of his topknot. The young eagle didn&#8217;t know at first
+what he meant. He walked around dazed, with a hurt
+expression. When at last it dawned on him what the
+chicken was about, he simply reached out one claw,
+took the rooster by the neck, planted the other claw in his
+breast, and snatched his head off.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man snapped his massive jaws together and
+grunted contemptuously.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span></p>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>Book III&mdash;The Reign of Terror</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='I_A_FALLEN_SLAVEHOLDER_S_MANSION' id='I_A_FALLEN_SLAVEHOLDER_S_MANSION'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Fallen Slaveholder&#8217;s Mansion</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Piedmont, South Carolina, which Elsie and Phil
+had selected for reasons best known to themselves
+as the place of retreat for their father, was a
+favourite summer resort of Charleston people before the
+war.</p>
+<p>Ulster county, of which this village was the capital,
+bordered on the North Carolina line, lying alongside the
+ancient shore of York. It was settled by the Scotch folk
+who came from the North of Ireland in the great migrations
+which gave America three hundred thousand people
+of Covenanter martyr blood, the largest and most important
+addition to our population, larger in number than
+either the Puritans of New England or the so-called
+Cavaliers of Virginia and Eastern Carolina; and far more
+important than either, in the growth of American nationality.</p>
+<p>To a man they had hated Great Britain. Not a Tory
+was found among them. The cries of their martyred
+dead were still ringing in their souls when George III
+started on his career of oppression. The fiery words of
+Patrick Henry, their spokesman in the valley of Virginia,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>
+had swept the aristocracy of the Old Dominion into rebellion
+against the King and on into triumphant Democracy.
+They had made North Carolina the first home of
+freedom in the New World, issued the first Declaration of
+Independence in Mecklenburg, and lifted the first banner
+of rebellion against the tyranny of the Crown.</p>
+<p>They grew to the soil wherever they stopped, always
+home lovers and home builders, loyal to their own people,
+instinctive clan leaders and clan followers. A sturdy,
+honest, covenant-keeping, God-fearing, fighting people,
+above all things they hated sham and pretence. They
+never boasted of their families, though some of them might
+have quartered the royal arms of Scotland on their shields.</p>
+<p>To these sturdy qualities had been added a strain of
+Huguenot tenderness and vivacity.</p>
+<p>The culture of cotton as the sole industry had fixed
+African slavery as their economic system. With the heritage
+of the Old World had been blended forces inherent in
+the earth and air of the new Southland, something of the
+breath of its unbroken forests, the freedom of its untrod
+mountains, the temper of its sun, and the sweetness of its
+tropic perfumes.</p>
+<p>When Mrs. Cameron received Elsie&#8217;s letter, asking her
+to secure for them six good rooms at the &#8220;Palmetto&#8221;
+hotel, she laughed. The big rambling hostelry had been
+burned by roving negroes, pigs were wallowing in the sulphur
+springs, and along its walks, where lovers of olden
+days had strolled, the cows were browsing on the shrubbery.</p>
+<p>But she laughed for a more important reason. They
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>
+had asked for a six-room cottage if accommodations could
+not be had in the hotel.</p>
+<p>She could put them in the Lenoir place. The cotton
+crop from their farm had been stolen from the gin&mdash;the
+cotton tax of $200 could not be paid, and a mortgage was
+about to be foreclosed on both their farm and home. She
+had been brooding over their troubles in despair. The
+Stonemans&#8217; coming was a godsend.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Cameron was helping them set the house in order
+to receive the new tenants.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I declare,&#8221; said Mrs. Lenoir gratefully. &#8220;It seems
+too good to be true. Just as I was about to give up&mdash;the
+first time in my life&mdash;here came those rich Yankees and
+with enough rent to pay the interest on the mortgages and
+our board at the hotel. I&#8217;ll teach Margaret to paint, and
+she can give Marion lessons on the piano. The darkest
+hour&#8217;s just before day. And last week I cried when they
+told me I must lose the farm.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was heartsick over it for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know, the farm was my dowry with the dozen
+slaves Papa gave us on our wedding-day. The negroes
+did as they pleased, yet we managed to live and were very
+happy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Marion entered and placed a bouquet of roses on the
+table, touching them daintily until she stood each flower
+apart in careless splendour. Their perfume, the girl&#8217;s wistful
+dreamy blue eyes and shy elusive beauty, all seemed a
+part of the warm sweet air of the June morning. Mrs.
+Lenoir watched her lovingly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mamma, I&#8217;m going to put flowers in every room. I&#8217;m
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>
+sure they haven&#8217;t such lovely ones in Washington,&#8221; said
+Marion eagerly, as she skipped out.</p>
+<p>The two women moved to the open window, through
+which came the drone of bees and the distant music of the
+river falls.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Marion&#8217;s greatest charm,&#8221; whispered her mother, &#8220;is
+in her way of doing things easily and gently without a
+trace of effort. Watch her bend over to get that rose. Did
+you ever see anything like the grace and symmetry of her
+figure&mdash;she seems a living flower!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jeannie, you&#8217;re making an idol of her&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why not? With all our troubles and poverty, I&#8217;m
+rich in her! She&#8217;s fifteen years old, her head teeming
+with romance. You know, I was married at fifteen.
+There&#8217;ll be a half dozen boys to see her to-night in our
+new home&mdash;all of them head over heels in love with
+her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Jeannie, you must not be so silly! We should
+worship God only.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t she God&#8217;s message to me and to the world?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But if anything should happen to her&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The young mother laughed. &#8220;I never think of it.
+Some things are fixed. Her happiness and beauty are to
+me the sign of God&#8217;s presence.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;m glad you&#8217;re coming to live with us in the
+heart of town. This place is a cosey nest, just such a one
+as a poet lover would build here in the edge of these deep
+woods, but it is too far out for you to be alone. Dr.
+Cameron has been worrying about you ever since he came
+home.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not afraid of the negroes. I don&#8217;t know one of
+them who wouldn&#8217;t go out of his way to do me a favour.
+Old Aleck is the only rascal I know among them, and he&#8217;s
+too busy with politics now even to steal a chicken.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And Gus, the young scamp we used to own; you
+haven&#8217;t forgotten him? He is back here, a member of
+the company of negro troops, and parades before the
+house every day to show off his uniform. Dr. Cameron
+told him yesterday he&#8217;d thrash him if he caught him hanging
+around the place again. He frightened Margaret
+nearly to death when she went to the barn to feed her
+horse.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve never known the meaning of fear. We used to
+roam the woods and fields together all hours of the day
+and night: my lover, Marion, and I. This panic seems
+absurd to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;ll be glad to get you two children under my
+wing. I was afraid I&#8217;d find you in tears over moving from
+your nest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, where Marion is I&#8217;m at home, and I&#8217;ll feel I&#8217;ve a
+mother when I get with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you come to the hotel before they arrive?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; I&#8217;ll welcome and tell them how glad I am they
+have brought me good luck.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m delighted, Jeannie. I wished you to do this, but
+I couldn&#8217;t ask it. I can never do enough for this old
+man&#8217;s daughter. We must make their stay happy. They
+say he&#8217;s a terrible old Radical politician, but I suppose
+he&#8217;s no meaner than the others. He&#8217;s very ill, and she
+loves him devotedly. He is coming here to find health,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span>
+and not to insult us. Besides, he was kind to me. He
+wrote a letter to the President. Nothing that I have will
+be too good for him or for his. It&#8217;s very brave and sweet
+of you to stay and meet them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m doing it to please Marion. She suggested it last
+night, sitting out on the porch in the twilight. She slipped
+her arm around me and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Mamma, we must welcome them and make them
+feel at home. He is very ill. They will be tired and homesick.
+Suppose it were you and I, and we were taking my
+Papa to a strange place.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>When the Stonemans arrived, the old man was too ill
+and nervous from the fatigue of the long journey to notice
+his surroundings or to be conscious of the restful beauty
+of the cottage into which they carried him. His room
+looked out over the valley of the river for miles, and the
+glimpse he got of its broad fertile acres only confirmed
+his ideas of the &#8220;slaveholding oligarchy&#8221; it was his life-purpose
+to crush. Over the mantel hung a steel engraving
+of Calhoun. He fell asleep with his deep, sunken
+eyes resting on it and a cynical smile playing about his
+grim mouth.</p>
+<p>Margaret and Mrs. Cameron had met the Stonemans
+and their physician at the train, and taken Elsie and her
+father in the old weather-beaten family carriage to the
+Lenoir cottage, apologising for Ben&#8217;s absence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He has gone to Nashville on some important legal
+business, and the doctor is ailing, but as the head of the
+clan Cameron he told me to welcome your father to the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span>
+hospitality of the county, and beg him to let us know if he
+could be of help.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man, who sat in a stupor of exhaustion, made
+no response, and Elsie hastened to say:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We appreciate your kindness more than I can tell you,
+Mrs. Cameron. I trust father will be better in a day or
+two, when he will thank you. The trip has been more
+than he could bear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am expecting Ben home this week,&#8221; the mother
+whispered. &#8220;I need not tell you that he will be delighted
+at your coming.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie smiled and blushed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And I&#8217;ll expect Captain Stoneman to see me very
+soon,&#8221; said Margaret softly. &#8220;You will not forget to
+tell him for me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s a very retiring young man,&#8221; said Elsie, &#8220;and
+pretends to be busy about our baggage just now. I&#8217;m
+sure he will find the way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie fell in love at sight with Marion and her mother.
+Their easy genial manners, the genuineness of their welcome,
+and the simple kindness with which they sought
+to make her feel at home put her heart into a warm
+glow.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Lenoir explained the conveniences of the place
+and apologized for its defects, the results of the war.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry about the window curtains&mdash;we have
+used them all for dresses. Marion is a genius with a
+needle, and we took the last pair out of the parlour to
+make a dress for a birthday party. The year before, we
+used the ones in my room for a costume at a starvation
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span>
+party in a benefit for our rector&mdash;you know we&#8217;re Episcopalians&mdash;strayed
+up here for our health from Charleston
+among these good Scotch Presbyterians.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We will soon place curtains at the windows,&#8221; said
+Elsie cheerfully.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The carpets were sent to the soldiers for blankets during
+the war. It was all we could do for our poor boys,
+except to cut my hair and sell it. You see my hair hasn&#8217;t
+grown out yet. I sent it to Richmond the last year of the
+war. I felt I must do something when my neighbours
+were giving so much. You know Mrs. Cameron lost
+four boys.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I prefer the floors bare,&#8221; Elsie replied. &#8220;We will
+get a few rugs.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She looked at the girlish hair hanging in ringlets about
+Mrs. Lenoir&#8217;s handsome face, smiled pathetically, and
+asked:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you really make such sacrifices for your cause?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed. I was glad when the war was ended for
+some things. We certainly needed a few pins, needles,
+and buttons, to say nothing of a cup of coffee or tea.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I trust you will never lack for anything again,&#8221; said
+Elsie kindly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You will bring us good luck,&#8221; Mrs. Lenoir responded.
+&#8220;Your coming is so fortunate. The cotton tax Congress
+levied was so heavy this year we were going to lose
+everything. Such a tax when we are all about to starve!
+Dr. Cameron says it was an act of stupid vengeance on
+the South, and that no other farmers in America have
+their crops taxed by the National Government. I am so
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span>
+glad your father has come. He is not hunting for an
+office. He can help us, maybe.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sure he will,&#8221; answered Elsie thoughtfully.</p>
+<p>Marion ran up the steps lightly, her hair dishevelled
+and face flushed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Mamma, it&#8217;s almost sundown; you get ready to
+go. I want her awhile to show her about my things.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She took Elsie shyly by the hand and led her into the
+lawn, while her mother paid a visit to each room, and
+made up the last bundle of odds and ends she meant to
+carry to the hotel.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope you will love the place as we do,&#8221; said the
+girl simply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it very beautiful and restful,&#8221; Elsie replied.
+&#8220;This wilderness of flowers looks like fairyland. You
+have roses running on the porch around the whole length
+of the house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Papa was crazy over the trailing roses, and kept
+planting them until the house seems just a frame built to
+hold them, with a roof on it. But you can see the river
+through the arches from three sides. Ben Cameron
+helped me set that big beauty on the south corner the
+day he ran away to the war&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The view is glorious!&#8221; Elsie exclaimed, looking in
+rapture over the river valley.</p>
+<p>The village of Piedmont crowned an immense hill on
+the banks of the Broad River, just where it dashes
+over the last stone barrier in a series of beautiful falls
+and spreads out in peaceful glory through the plains toward
+Columbia and the distant sea. The muffled roar
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span>
+of these falls, rising softly through the trees on its wooded
+cliff, held the daily life of the people in the spell of distant
+music. In fair weather it soothed and charmed, and in
+storm and freshet rose to the deep solemn growl of
+thunder.</p>
+<p>The river made a sharp bend as it emerged from the
+hills and flowed westward for six miles before it turned
+south again. Beyond this six-mile sweep of its broad
+channel loomed the three ranges of the Blue Ridge Mountains,
+the first one dark, rich, distinct, clothed in eternal
+green, the last one melting in dim lines into the clouds
+and soft azure of the sky.</p>
+<p>As the sun began to sink now behind these distant
+peaks, each cloud that hung about them burst into a
+blazing riot of colour. The silver mirror of the river
+caught their shadows, and the water glowed in sympathy.</p>
+<p>As Elsie drank the beauty of the scene, the music of the
+falls ringing its soft accompaniment, her heart went out
+in a throb of love and pity for the land and its people.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can you blame us for loving such a spot?&#8221; said Marion.
+&#8220;It&#8217;s far more beautiful from the cliff at Lover&#8217;s
+Leap. I&#8217;ll take you there some day. My father used to
+tell me that this world was Heaven, and that the spirits
+would all come back to live here when sin and shame and
+strife were gone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are your father&#8217;s poems published?&#8221; asked Elsie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only in the papers. We have them clipped and
+pasted in a scrapbook. I&#8217;ll show you the one about Ben
+Cameron some day. You met him in Washington, didn&#8217;t
+you?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Elsie quietly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I know he made love to you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re so pretty. He couldn&#8217;t help it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Does he make love to every pretty girl?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Always. It&#8217;s his religion. But he does it so beautifully
+you can&#8217;t help believing it, until you compare notes
+with the other girls.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did he make love to you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He broke my heart when he ran away. I cried a
+whole week. But I got over it. He seemed so big and
+grown when he came home this last time. I was afraid
+to let him kiss me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did he dare to try?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, and it hurt my feelings. You see, I&#8217;m not quite
+old enough to be serious with the big boys, and he looked
+so brave and handsome with that ugly scar on the edge
+of his forehead, and everybody was so proud of him. I
+was just dying to kiss him, and I thought it downright
+mean in him not to offer it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Would you have let him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I expected him to try.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is very popular in Piedmont?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Every girl in town is in love with him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And he in love with all?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He pretends to be&mdash;but between us, he&#8217;s a great flirt.
+He&#8217;s gone to Nashville now on some pretended business.
+Goodness only knows where he got the money to go. I
+believe there&#8217;s a girl there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Because he was so mysterious about his trip. I&#8217;ll
+keep an eye on him at the hotel. You know Margaret,
+too, don&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; we met her in Washington.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, she&#8217;s the slyest flirt in town&mdash;it runs in the
+blood&mdash;has a half-dozen beaux to see her every day. She
+plays the organ in the Presbyterian Sunday school, and
+the young minister is dead in love with her. They say
+they are engaged. I don&#8217;t believe it. I think it&#8217;s another
+one. But I must hurry, I&#8217;ve so much to show and
+tell you. Come here to the honeysuckle&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Marion drew the vines apart from the top of the fence
+and revealed a mocking-bird on her nest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s setting. Don&#8217;t let anything hurt her. I&#8217;d push
+her off and show you her speckled eggs, but it&#8217;s so late.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I wouldn&#8217;t hurt her for the world!&#8221; cried Elsie
+with delight.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And right here,&#8221; said Marion, bending gracefully
+over a tall bunch of grass, &#8220;is a pee-wee&#8217;s nest, four darling
+little eggs; look out for that.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie bent and saw the pretty nest perched on stems of
+grass, and over it the taller leaves drawn to a point.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t it cute!&#8221; she murmured.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I&#8217;ve six of these and three mocking-bird nests.
+I&#8217;ll show them to you. But the most particular one of
+all is the wren&#8217;s nest in the fork of the cedar, close to the
+house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She led Elsie to the tree, and about two feet from the
+ground, in the forks of the trunk, was a tiny hole from
+which peeped the eyes of a wren.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Whatever you do, don&#8217;t let anything hurt her. Her
+mate sings &#8216;<i>Free-nigger! Free-nigger! Free-nigger!</i>&#8217;
+every morning in this cedar.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you think we will specially enjoy that?&#8221; asked
+Elsie, laughing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, really,&#8221; cried Marion, taking Elsie&#8217;s hand,
+&#8220;you know I couldn&#8217;t think of such a mean joke. I forgot
+you were from the North. You seem so sweet and
+homelike. He really does sing that way. You will hear
+him in the morning, bright and early, &#8216;<i>Free-nigger! Free-nigger!
+Free-nigger!</i>&#8217; just as plain as I&#8217;m saying it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And did you learn to find all these birds&#8217; nests by
+yourself?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Papa taught me. I&#8217;ve got some jay-birds and some
+cat-birds so gentle they hop right down at my feet. Some
+people hate jay-birds. But I like them, they seem to be
+having such a fine time and enjoy life so. You don&#8217;t
+mind jay-birds, do you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I love every bird that flies.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Except hawks and owls and buzzards&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;ve seen so few I can&#8217;t say I&#8217;ve anything particular
+against them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, they eat chickens&mdash;except the buzzards, and
+they&#8217;re so ugly and filthy. Now, I&#8217;ve a chicken to show
+you&mdash;please don&#8217;t let Aunt Cindy&mdash;she&#8217;s to be your cook&mdash;please
+don&#8217;t let her kill him&mdash;he&#8217;s crippled&mdash;has something
+the matter with his foot. He was born that way.
+Everybody wanted to kill him, but I wouldn&#8217;t let them.
+I&#8217;ve had an awful time raising him, but he&#8217;s all right
+now.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span></p>
+<p>Marion lifted a box and showed her the lame pet, softly
+clucking his protest against the disturbance of his rest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll take good care of <i>him</i>, never fear,&#8221; said Elsie, with
+a tremor in her voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And I have a queer little black cat I wanted to show
+you, but he&#8217;s gone off somewhere. I&#8217;d take him with
+me&mdash;only it&#8217;s bad luck to move cats. He&#8217;s awful wild&mdash;won&#8217;t
+let anybody pet him but me. Mamma says he&#8217;s an
+imp of Satan&mdash;but I love him. He runs up a tree when
+anybody else tries to get him. But he climbs right up on
+my shoulder. I never loved any cat quite as well as this
+silly, half-wild one. You don&#8217;t mind black cats, do you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, dear; I like cats.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I know you&#8217;ll be good to him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is that all?&#8221; asked Elsie, with amused interest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I&#8217;ve the funniest yellow dog that comes here at
+night to pick up the scraps and things. He isn&#8217;t my dog&mdash;just
+a little personal friend of mine&mdash;but I like him very
+much, and always give him something. He&#8217;s very cute.
+I think he&#8217;s a nigger dog.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A nigger dog? What&#8217;s that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He belongs to some coloured people, who don&#8217;t give
+turn enough to eat. I love him because he&#8217;s so faithful
+to his own folks. He comes to see me at night and pretends
+to love me, but as soon as I feed him he trots back
+home. When he first came, I laughed till I cried at his
+antics over a carpet&mdash;we had a carpet then. He never
+saw one before, and barked at the colours and the figures
+in the pattern. Then he&#8217;d lie down and rub his back
+on it and growl. You won&#8217;t let anybody hurt him?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;No. Are there any others?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I &#8217;most forgot. If Sam Ross comes&mdash;Sam&#8217;s an
+idiot who lives at the poorhouse&mdash;if he comes, he&#8217;ll expect
+a dinner&mdash;my, my, I&#8217;m afraid he&#8217;ll cry when he finds
+we&#8217;re not here! But you can send him to the hotel to me.
+Don&#8217;t let Aunt Cindy speak rough to him. Aunt Cindy&#8217;s
+awfully good to me, but she can&#8217;t bear Sam. She thinks
+he brings bad luck.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How on earth did you meet him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;His father was rich. He was a good friend of my
+Papa&#8217;s. We came near losing our farm once, because a
+bank failed. Mr. Ross sent Papa a signed check on his
+own bank, and told him to write the amount he needed on
+it, and pay him when he was able. Papa cried over it,
+and wouldn&#8217;t use it, and wrote a poem on the back of the
+check&mdash;one of the sweetest of all, I think. In the war
+Mr. Ross lost his two younger sons, both killed at Gettysburg.
+His wife died heartbroken, and he only lived a
+year afterward. He sold his farm for Confederate money
+and everything was lost. Sam was sent to the poorhouse.
+He found out somehow that we loved him and comes to
+see us. He&#8217;s as harmless as a kitten, and works in the
+garden beautifully.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll remember,&#8221; Elsie promised.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And one thing more,&#8221; she said hesitatingly.
+&#8220;Mamma asked me to speak to you of this&mdash;that&#8217;s
+why she slipped away. There one little room we have
+locked. It was Papa&#8217;s study just as he left it, with his
+papers scattered on the desk, the books and pictures that
+he loved&mdash;you won&#8217;t mind?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></p>
+<p>Elsie slipped her arm about Marion, looked into the
+blue eyes, dim with tears, drew her close and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;It shall be sacred, my child. You must come every
+day if possible, and help me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will. I&#8217;ve so many beautiful places to show you
+in the woods&mdash;places he loved, and taught us to see and
+love. They won&#8217;t let me go in the woods any more alone.
+But you have a big brother. That must be very sweet.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Lenoir hurried to Elsie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, Marion, we must be going now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am very sorry to see you leave the home you love so
+dearly, Mrs. Lenoir,&#8221; said the Northern girl, taking her
+extended hand. &#8220;I hope you can soon find a way to have
+it back.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; replied the mother cheerily. &#8220;The
+longer you stay, the better for us. You don&#8217;t know how
+happy I am over your coming. It has lifted a load from
+our hearts. In the liberal rent you pay us you are our
+benefactors. We are very grateful and happy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie watched them walk across the lawn to the street,
+the daughter leaning on the mother&#8217;s arm. She followed
+slowly and stopped behind one of the arbor-vitæ bushes
+beside the gate. The full moon had risen as the twilight
+fell and flooded the scene with soft white light. A whippoorwill
+struck his first plaintive note, his weird song
+seeming to come from all directions and yet to be under
+her feet. She heard the rustle of dresses returning along
+the walk, and Marion and her mother stood at the gate.
+They looked long and tenderly at the house. Mrs. Lenoir
+uttered a broken sob, Marion slipped an arm around her,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span>
+brushed the short curling hair back from her forehead,
+and softly said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mamma, dear, you know it&#8217;s best. I don&#8217;t mind.
+Everybody in town loves us. Every boy and girl in
+Piedmont worships you. We will be just as happy at the
+hotel.&#8221;</p>
+<p>In the pauses between the strange bird&#8217;s cry, Elsie
+caught the sound of another sob, and then a soothing
+murmur as of a mother bending over a cradle, and they
+were gone.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='II_THE_EYES_OF_THE_JUNGLE' id='II_THE_EYES_OF_THE_JUNGLE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Eyes of the Jungle</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Elsie stood dreaming for a moment in the shadow
+of the arbor-vitæ, breathing the sensuous perfumed
+air and listening to the distant music of
+the falls, her heart quivering in pity for the anguish of
+which she had been a witness. Again the spectral cry
+of the whippoorwill rang near-by, and she noted for the
+first time the curious cluck with which the bird punctuated
+each call. A sense of dim foreboding oppressed her.</p>
+<p>She wondered if the chatter of Marion about the girl
+in Nashville were only a child&#8217;s guess or more. She
+laughed softly at the absurdity of the idea. Never since
+she had first looked into Ben Cameron&#8217;s face did she feel
+surer of the honesty and earnestness of his love than to-day
+in this quiet home of his native village. It must be
+the queer call of the bird which appealed to superstitions
+she did not know were hidden within her being.</p>
+<p>Still dreaming under its spell, she was startled at the
+tread of two men approaching the gate.</p>
+<p>The taller, more powerful-looking man put his hand
+on the latch and paused.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Allow no white man to order you around. Remember
+you are a freeman and as good as any pale-face who walks
+this earth.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></p>
+<p>She recognized the voice of Silas Lynch.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ben Cameron dare me to come about de house,&#8221; said
+the other voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What did he say?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He say, wid his eyes batten&#8217; des like lightnen&#8217;, &#8216;Ef I
+ketch you hangin&#8217; &#8217;roun&#8217; dis place agin&#8217;, Gus, I&#8217;ll jump
+on you en stomp de life outen ye.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you tell him that your name is Augustus, not
+&#8216;Gus,&#8217; and that the United States troops quartered in this
+town will be with him soon after the stomping begins.
+You wear its uniform. Give the white trash in this town
+to understand that they are not even citizens of the
+nation. As a sovereign voter, you, once their slave, are
+not only their equal&mdash;you are their master.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dat I will!&#8221; was the firm answer.</p>
+<p>The negro to whom Lynch spoke disappeared in the
+direction taken by Marion and her mother, and the figure
+of the handsome mulatto passed rapidly up the walk,
+ascended the steps and knocked at the door.</p>
+<p>Elsie followed him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My father is too much fatigued with his journey to be
+seen now; you must call to-morrow,&#8221; she said.</p>
+<p>The negro lifted his hat and bowed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, we are delighted to welcome you, Miss Stoneman,
+to our land! Your father asked me to call immediately on
+his arrival. I have but obeyed his orders.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie shrank from the familiarity of his manner and
+the tones of authority and patronage with which he
+spoke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He cannot be seen at this hour,&#8221; she answered shortly.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps you will present my card, then&mdash;say that I
+am at his service, and let him appoint the time at which
+I shall return?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She did not invite him in, but with easy assurance he
+took his seat on the joggle-board beside the door and
+awaited her return.</p>
+<p>Against her urgent protest, Stoneman ordered Lynch to
+be shown at once to his bedroom.</p>
+<p>When the door was closed, the old Commoner, without
+turning to greet his visitor or moving his position in bed,
+asked:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you following my instructions?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;To the letter, sir.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are initiating the negroes into the League and
+teaching them the new catechism?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;With remarkable success. Its secrecy and ritual
+appeal to them. Within six months we shall have the
+whole race under our control almost to a man.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Almost</i> to a man?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We find some so attached to their former masters that
+reason is impossible with them. Even threats and the
+promise of forty acres of land have no influence.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man snorted with contempt.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If anything could reconcile me to the Satanic Institution
+it is the character of the wretches who submit to it
+and kiss the hand that strikes. After all, a slave deserves
+to be a slave. The man who is mean enough to wear
+chains ought to wear them. You must teach, <i>teach</i>,
+<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>TEACH</span> these black hounds to know they are men, not
+brutes!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p>
+<p>The old man paused a moment, and his restless hands
+fumbled the cover.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your first task, as I told you in the beginning, is to
+teach every negro to stand erect in the presence of his
+former master and assert his manhood. Unless he does
+this, the South will bristle with bayonets in vain. The
+man who believes he is a dog, is one. The man who believes
+himself a king, may become one. Stop this snivelling
+and sneaking round the back doors. I can do nothing,
+God Almighty can do nothing, for a coward. Fix this as
+the first law of your own life. Lift up your head! The
+world is yours. Take it. Beat this into the skulls of
+your people, if you do it with an axe. Teach them the
+military drill at once. I&#8217;ll see that Washington sends
+the guns. The state, when under your control, can
+furnish the powder.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will surprise you to know the thoroughness with
+which this has been done already by the League,&#8221; said
+Lynch. &#8220;The white master believed he could vote the
+negro as he worked him in the fields during the war. The
+League, with its blue flaming altar, under the shadows
+of night, has wrought a miracle. The negro is the enemy
+of his former master and will be for all time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;For the present,&#8221; said the old man meditatively,
+&#8220;not a word to a living soul as to my connection with this
+work. When the time is ripe, I&#8217;ll show my hand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie entered, protesting against her father&#8217;s talking
+longer, and showed Lynch to the door.</p>
+<p>He paused on the moonlit porch and tried to engage her
+in familiar talk.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></p>
+<p>She cut him short, and he left reluctantly.</p>
+<p>As he bowed his thick neck in pompous courtesy, she
+caught with a shiver the odour of pomade on his black half-kinked
+hair. He stopped on the lower step, looked back
+with smiling insolence, and gazed intently at her beauty.
+The girl shrank from the gleam of the jungle in his eyes
+and hurried within.</p>
+<p>She found her father sunk in a stupor. Her cry brought
+the young surgeon hurrying into the room, and at the end
+of an hour he said to Elsie and Phil:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He has had a stroke of paralysis. He may lie in
+mental darkness for months and then recover. His heart
+action is perfect. Patience, care, and love will save him.
+There is no cause for immediate alarm.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='III_AUGUSTUS_CSAR' id='III_AUGUSTUS_CSAR'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Augustus Cæsar</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Phil early found the home of the Camerons the
+most charming spot in town. As he sat in the
+old-fashioned parlour beside Margaret, his brain
+seethed with plans for building a hotel on a large scale on
+the other side of the Square and restoring her home intact.</p>
+<p>The Cameron homestead was a large brick building
+with an ample porch looking out directly on the Court
+House Square, standing in the middle of a lawn full of
+trees, flowers, shrubbery, and a wilderness of evergreen
+boxwood planted fifty years before. It was located on the
+farm from which it had always derived its support. The
+farm extended up into the village itself, with the great
+barn easily seen from the street.</p>
+<p>Phil was charmed with the doctor&#8217;s genial personality.
+He often found the father a decidedly easier person to get
+along with than his handsome daughter. The Rev.
+Hugh McAlpin was a daily caller, and Margaret had a
+tantalizing way of showing her deference to his opinions.</p>
+<p>Phil hated this preacher from the moment he laid eyes
+on him. His pugnacious piety he might have endured
+but for the fact that he was good-looking and eloquent.
+When he rose in the pulpit in all his sacred dignity, fixed
+his eyes on Margaret, and began in tenderly modulated
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span>
+voice to tell about the love of God, Phil clinched his fist.
+He didn&#8217;t care to join the Presbyterian church, but he
+quietly made up his mind that, if it came to the worst
+and she asked him, he would join anything. What made
+him furious was the air of assurance with which the young
+divine carried himself about Margaret, as if he had but to
+say the word and it would be fixed as by a decree issued
+from before the foundations of the world.</p>
+<p>He was pleased and surprised to find that his being a
+Yankee made no difference in his standing or welcome.
+The people seemed unconscious of the part his father
+played at Washington. Stoneman&#8217;s Confiscation Bill
+had not yet been discussed in Congress, and the promise
+of land to the negroes was universally regarded as a hoax
+of the League to win their followers. The old Commoner
+was not an orator. Hence his name was scarcely known
+in the South. The Southern people could not conceive of
+a great leader except one who expressed his power through
+the megaphone of oratory. They held Charles Sumner
+chiefly responsible for Reconstruction.</p>
+<p>The fact that Phil was a Yankee who had no axe to
+grind in the South caused the people to appeal to him in
+a pathetic way that touched his heart. He had not been
+in town two weeks before he was on good terms with
+every youngster, had the entrée to every home, and Ben
+had taken him, protesting vehemently, to see every pretty
+girl there. He found that, in spite of war and poverty,
+troubles present and troubles to come, the young Southern
+woman was the divinity that claimed and received
+the chief worship of man.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span></p>
+<p>The tremendous earnestness with which these youngsters
+pursued the work of courting, all of them so poor
+they scarcely had enough to eat, amazed and alarmed
+him beyond measure. He found in several cases as many
+as four making a dead set for one girl, as if heaven and
+earth depended on the outcome, while the girl seemed to
+receive it all as a matter of course&mdash;her just tribute.</p>
+<p>Every instinct of his quiet reserved nature revolted at
+any such attempt to rush his cause with Margaret, and
+yet it made the cold chills run down his spine to see that
+Presbyterian preacher drive his buggy up to the hotel,
+take her to ride, and stay three hours. He knew where
+they had gone&mdash;to Lover&#8217;s Leap and along the beautiful
+road which led to the North Carolina line. He knew the
+way&mdash;Margaret had showed him. This road was the Way
+of Romance. Every farmhouse, cabin, and shady nook
+along its beaten track could tell its tale of lovers fleeing
+from the North to find happiness in the haven of matrimony
+across the line in South Carolina. Everything
+seemed to favour marriage in this climate. The state
+required no license. A legal marriage could be celebrated,
+anywhere, at any time, by a minister in the presence of
+two witnesses, with or without the consent of parent or
+guardian. Marriage was the easiest thing in the state&mdash;divorce
+the one thing impossible. Death alone could
+grant divorce.</p>
+<p>He was now past all reason in love. He followed the
+movement of Margaret&#8217;s queenly figure with pathetic
+abandonment. Beneath her beautiful manners he swore
+with a shiver that she was laughing at him. Now and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span>
+then he caught a funny expression about her eyes, as
+if she were consumed with a sly sense of humour in her
+love affairs.</p>
+<p>What he felt to be his manliest traits, his reserve, dignity,
+and moral earnestness, she must think cold and slow
+beside the dash, fire, and assurance of these Southerners.
+He could tell by the way she encouraged the preacher
+before his eyes that she was criticizing and daring him
+to let go for once. Instead of doing it, he sank back
+appalled at the prospect and let the preacher carry
+her off again.</p>
+<p>He sought solace in Dr. Cameron, who was utterly
+oblivious of his daughter&#8217;s love affairs.</p>
+<p>Phil was constantly amazed at the variety of his knowledge,
+the genuineness of his culture, his modesty, and the
+note of youth and cheer with which he still pursued the
+study of medicine.</p>
+<p>His company was refreshing for its own sake. The
+slender graceful figure, ruddy face, with piercing, dark-brown
+eyes in startling contrast to his snow-white hair
+and beard, had for Phil a perpetual charm. He never
+tired listening to his talk, and noting the peculiar grace
+and dignity with which he carried himself, unconscious
+of the commanding look of his brilliant eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hear that you have used hypnotism in your
+practice, Doctor,&#8221; Phil said to him one day, as he
+watched with fascination the changing play of his mobile
+features.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes! used it for years. Southern doctors have
+always been pioneers in the science of medicine. Dr.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span>
+Crawford Long, of Georgia, you know, was the first practitioner
+in America to apply anesthesia to surgery.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But where did you run up against hypnotism? I
+thought this a new thing under the sun?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s not a home industry, exactly. I became interested
+in it in Edinburgh while a medical student, and
+pursued it with increased interest in Paris.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you study medicine abroad?&#8221; Phil asked in
+surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I was poor, but I managed to raise and to borrow
+enough to take three years on the other side. I put
+all I had and all my credit in it. I&#8217;ve never regretted the
+sacrifice. The more I saw of the great world, the better
+I liked my own world. I&#8217;ve given these farmers and their
+families the best God gave to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you find much use for your powers of hypnosis?&#8221;
+Phil asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only in an experimental way. Naturally I am
+endowed with this gift&mdash;especially over certain classes
+who are easily the subjects of extreme fear. I owned a
+rascally slave named Gus whom I used to watch stealing.
+Suddenly confronting him, I&#8217;ve thrown him into unconsciousness
+with a steady gaze of the eye, until he would
+drop on his face, trembling like a leaf, unable to speak
+until I allowed him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How do you account for such powers?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t account for them at all. They belong to the
+world of spiritual phenomena of which we know so little
+and yet which touch our material lives at a thousand
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span>
+points every day. How do we account for sleep and
+dreams, or second sight, or the day dreams which we call
+visions?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil was silent, and the doctor went on dreamily:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The day my boy Richard was killed at Gettysburg, I
+saw him lying dead in a field near a house. I saw some
+soldiers bury him in the corner of that field, and then an
+old man go to the grave, dig up his body, cart it away into
+the woods, and throw it into a ditch. I saw it before I
+heard of the battle or knew that he was in it. He was
+reported killed, and his body has never been found. It is
+the one unspeakable horror of the war to me. I&#8217;ll never
+get over it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How very strange!&#8221; exclaimed Phil.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And yet the war was nothing, my boy, to the horrors
+I feel clutching the throat of the South to-day. I&#8217;m glad
+you and your father are down here. Your disinterested
+view of things may help us at Washington when we need
+it most. The South seems to have no friend at court.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your younger men, I find, are hopeful, Doctor,&#8221; said
+Phil.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, the young never see danger until it&#8217;s time to die.
+I&#8217;m not a pessimist, but I was happier in jail. Scores of
+my old friends have given up in despair and died. Delicate
+and cultured women are living on cowpeas, corn
+bread, and molasses&mdash;and of such quality they would not
+have fed it to a slave. Children go to bed hungry.
+Droves of brutal negroes roam at large, stealing, murdering,
+and threatening blacker crimes. We are under
+the heel of petty military tyrants, few of whom ever
+smelled gunpowder in a battle. At the approaching
+election, not a decent white man in this country can take
+the infamous test oath. I am disfranchised because I
+gave a cup of water to the lips of one of my dying boys on
+the battlefield. My slaves are all voters. There will be
+a negro majority of more than one hundred thousand in
+this state. Desperadoes are here teaching these negroes
+insolence and crime in their secret societies. The future
+is a nightmare.&#8221;</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-214.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 395px; height: 585px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 395px;'>
+HENRY WALTHALL AS BEN CAMERON.<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></div>
+<p>&#8220;You have my sympathy, sir,&#8221; said Phil warmly, extending
+his hand. &#8220;These Reconstruction Acts, conceived
+in sin and brought forth in iniquity, can bring only
+shame and disgrace until the last trace of them is wiped
+from our laws. I hope it will not be necessary to do it in
+blood.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor was deeply touched. He could not be mistaken
+in the genuineness of any man&#8217;s feeling. He never
+dreamed this earnest straightforward Yankee youngster
+was in love with Margaret, and it would have made no
+difference in the accuracy of his judgment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your sentiments do you honour, sir,&#8221; he said with
+grave courtesy. &#8220;And you honour us and our town with
+your presence and friendship.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As Phil hurried home in a warm glow of sympathy for
+the people whose hospitality had made him their friend
+and champion, he encountered a negro trooper standing
+on the corner, watching the Cameron house with furtive
+glance.</p>
+<p>Instinctively he stopped, surveyed the man from head
+to foot and asked:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the trouble?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;None er yo&#8217; business,&#8221; the negro answered, slouching
+across to the opposite side of the street.</p>
+<p>Phil watched him with disgust. He had the short,
+heavy-set neck of the lower order of animals. His skin
+was coal black, his lips so thick they curled both ways up
+and down with crooked blood marks across them. His
+nose was flat, and its enormous nostrils seemed in perpetual
+dilation. The sinister bead eyes, with brown
+splotches in their whites, were set wide apart and gleamed
+apelike under his scant brows. His enormous cheekbones
+and jaws seemed to protrude beyond the ears
+and almost hide them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That we should send such soldiers here to flaunt our
+uniform in the faces of these people!&#8221; he exclaimed, with
+bitterness.</p>
+<p>He met Ben hurrying home from a visit to Elsie. The
+two young soldiers whose prejudices had melted in the
+white heat of battle had become fast friends.</p>
+<p>Phil laughed and winked:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll meet you to-night around the family altar!&#8221;</p>
+<p>When he reached home, Ben saw, slouching in front of
+the house, walking back and forth and glancing furtively
+behind him, the negro trooper whom his friend had
+passed.</p>
+<p>He walked quickly in front of him, and blinking his
+eyes rapidly, said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t I tell you, Gus, not to let me catch you hanging
+around this house again?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The negro drew himself up, pulling his blue uniform
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span>
+into position as his body stretched out of its habitual
+slouch, and answered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My name ain&#8217;t &#8216;Gus.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben gave a quick little chuckle and leaned back against
+the palings, his hand resting on one that was loose. He
+glanced at the negro carelessly and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Augustus Cæsar, I give your majesty thirty
+seconds to move off the block.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Gus&#8217; first impulse was to run, but remembering himself
+he threw back his shoulders and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I reckon de streets free&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and so is kindling wood!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Quick as a flash of lightning the paling suddenly left
+the fence and broke three times in such bewildering rapidity
+on the negro&#8217;s head he forgot everything he ever knew
+or thought he knew save one thing&mdash;the way to run. He
+didn&#8217;t fly, but he made remarkable use of the facilities
+with which he had been endowed.</p>
+<p>Ben watched him disappear toward the camp.</p>
+<p>He picked up the pieces of paling, pulled a strand of
+black wool from a splinter, looked at it curiously and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;A sprig of his majesty&#8217;s hair&mdash;I&#8217;ll doubtless remember
+him without it!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IV_AT_THE_POINT_OF_THE_BAYONET' id='IV_AT_THE_POINT_OF_THE_BAYONET'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>At the Point of the Bayonet</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Within an hour from Ben&#8217;s encounter he was
+arrested without warrant by the military
+commandant, handcuffed, and placed on the
+train for Columbia, more than a hundred miles distant.
+The first purpose of sending him in charge of a negro guard
+was abandoned for fear of a riot. A squad of white troops
+accompanied him.</p>
+<p>Elsie was waiting at the gate, watching for his coming,
+her heart aglow with happiness.</p>
+<p>When Marion and little Hugh ran to tell the exciting
+news, she thought it a joke and refused to believe it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, dear, don&#8217;t tease me; you know it&#8217;s not true!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish I may die if &#8217;tain&#8217;t so!&#8221; Hugh solemnly declared.
+&#8220;He run Gus away &#8217;cause he scared Aunt Margaret
+so. They come and put handcuffs on him and took
+him to Columbia. I tell you Grandpa and Grandma and
+Aunt Margaret are mad!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie called Phil and begged him to see what had happened.</p>
+<p>When Phil reported Ben&#8217;s arrest without a warrant, and
+the indignity to which he had been subjected on the
+amazing charge of resisting military authority, Elsie hurried
+with Marion and Hugh to the hotel to express her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span>
+indignation, and sent Phil to Columbia on the next train
+to fight for his release.</p>
+<p>By the use of a bribe Phil discovered that a special inquisition
+had been hastily organized to procure perjured
+testimony against Ben on the charge of complicity in the
+murder of a carpet-bag adventurer named Ashburn, who
+had been killed at Columbia in a row in a disreputable
+resort. This murder had occurred the week Ben
+Cameron was in Nashville. The enormous reward of
+$25,000 had been offered for the conviction of any man
+who could be implicated in the killing. Scores of venal
+wretches, eager for this blood money, were using
+every device of military tyranny to secure evidence on
+which to convict&mdash;no matter who the man might be.
+Within six hours of his arrival they had pounced on
+Ben.</p>
+<p>They arrested as a witness an old negro named John
+Stapler, noted for his loyalty to the Camerons. The
+doctor had saved his life once in a dangerous illness.
+They were going to put him to torture and force him to
+swear that Ben Cameron had tried to bribe him to kill
+Ashburn. General Howle, the Commandant of the Columbia
+district, was in Charleston on a visit to headquarters.</p>
+<p>Phil resorted to the ruse of pretending, as a Yankee, the
+deepest sympathy for Ashburn, and by the payment of a
+fee of twenty dollars to the Captain, was admitted to the
+fort to witness the torture.</p>
+<p>They led the old man trembling into the presence of the
+Captain, who sat on an improvised throne in full uniform.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you ordered a barber to shave this man&#8217;s head?&#8221;
+sternly asked the judge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Please, Marster, fer de Lawd&#8217;s sake, I ain&#8217; done
+nuttin&#8216;&mdash;doan&#8217; shave my head. Dat ha&#8217;r been wropped
+lak dat fur ten year! I die sho&#8217; ef I lose my ha&#8217;r.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bring the barber, and take him back until he comes,&#8221;
+was the order. In an hour they led him again into the
+room blindfolded, and placed him in a chair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you let him see a preacher before putting
+him through?&#8221; the Captain asked. &#8220;I have an order
+from the General in Charleston to put him through to-day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;For Gawd&#8217;s sake, Marster, doan&#8217; put me froo&mdash;I ain&#8217;t
+done nuttin&#8217; en I doan&#8217; know nuttin&#8217;!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old negro slipped to his knees, trembling from head
+to foot.</p>
+<p>The guards caught him by the shoulders and threw him
+back into the chair. The bandage was removed, and just
+in front of him stood a brass cannon pointed at his head,
+a soldier beside it holding the string ready to pull. John
+threw himself backward, yelling:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Goddermighty!&#8221;</p>
+<p>When he scrambled to his feet and started to run, another
+cannon swung on him from the rear. He dropped
+to his knees and began to pray.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yas, Lawd, I&#8217;se er comin&#8217;. I hain&#8217;t ready&mdash;but,
+Lawd, I got ter come! Save me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shave him!&#8221; the Captain ordered.</p>
+<p>While the old man sat moaning, they lathered his head
+with two scrubbing-brushes and shaved it clean.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Now stand him up by the wall and measure him for
+his coffin,&#8221; was the order.</p>
+<p>They snatched him from the chair, pushed him against
+the wall, and measured him. While they were taking his
+measure, the man next to him whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now&#8217;s the time to save your hide&mdash;tell all about Ben
+Cameron trying to hire you to kill Ashburn.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Give him a few minutes,&#8221; said the Captain, &#8220;and
+maybe we can hear what Mr. Cameron said about Ashburn.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I doan&#8217; know nuttin&#8217;, General,&#8221; pleaded the old
+darkey. &#8220;I ain&#8217;t heard nuttin&#8217;&mdash;I ain&#8217;t seed Marse Ben
+fer two monts.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You needn&#8217;t lie to us. The rebels have been posting
+you. But it&#8217;s no use. We&#8217;ll get it out of you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Fo&#8217; Gawd, Marster, I&#8217;se telling de truf!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Put him in the dark cell and keep him there the balance
+of his life unless he tells,&#8221; was the order.</p>
+<p>At the end of four days, Phil was summoned again to
+witness the show.</p>
+<p>John was carried to another part of the fort and shown
+the sweat-box.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now tell all you know or in you go!&#8221; said his tormentor.</p>
+<p>The negro looked at the engine of torture in abject terror&mdash;a
+closet in the walls of the fort just big enough to
+admit the body, with an adjustable top to press down too
+low for the head to be held erect. The door closed tight
+against the breast of the victim. The only air admitted
+was through an auger-hole in the door.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span></p>
+<p>The old man&#8217;s lips moved in prayer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you tell?&#8221; growled the Captain.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cain&#8217;t tell ye nuttin&#8217; &#8216;cept&#8217;n&#8217; a lie!&#8221; he moaned.</p>
+<p>They thrust him in, slammed the door, and in a loud
+voice the Captain said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Keep him there for thirty days unless he tells.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He was left in the agony of the sweat-box for thirty-three
+hours and taken out. His limbs were swollen and
+when he attempted to walk he tottered and fell.</p>
+<p>The guard jerked him to his feet, and the Captain said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid we&#8217;ve taken him out too soon, but if he
+don&#8217;t tell he can go back and finish the month out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The poor old negro dropped in a faint, and they carried
+him back to his cell.</p>
+<p>Phil determined to spare no means, fair or foul, to
+secure Ben&#8217;s release from the clutches of these devils. He
+had as yet been unable to locate his place of confinement.</p>
+<p>He continued his ruse of friendly curiosity, kept in
+touch with the Captain, and the Captain in touch with
+his pocketbook.</p>
+<p>Summoned to witness another interesting ceremony, he
+hurried to the fort.</p>
+<p>The officer winked at him confidentially, and took him
+out to a row of dungeons built of logs and ceiled inside
+with heavy boards. A single pane of glass about eight
+inches square admitted light ten feet from the ground.</p>
+<p>There was a commotion inside, curses, groans, and cries
+for mercy mingling in rapid succession.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it?&#8221; asked Phil.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hell&#8217;s goin&#8217; on in there!&#8221; laughed the officer.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Evidently.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A heavy crash, as though a ton weight had struck the
+floor, and then all was still.</p>
+<p>&#8220;By George, it&#8217;s too bad we can&#8217;t see it all!&#8221; exclaimed
+the officer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does it mean?&#8221; urged Phil.</p>
+<p>Again the Captain laughed immoderately.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve got a blue-blood in there taking the bluin&#8217; out of
+his system. He gave me some impudence. I&#8217;m teaching
+him who&#8217;s running this country!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What are you doing to him?&#8221; Phil asked with a
+sudden suspicion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, just having a little fun! I put two big white
+drunks in there with him&mdash;half-fighting drunks, you
+know&mdash;and told them to work on his teeth and manicure
+his face a little to initiate him into the ranks of the common
+people, so to speak!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Again he laughed.</p>
+<p>Phil, listening at the keyhole, held up his hand:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush, they&#8217;re talking&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He could hear Ben Cameron&#8217;s voice in the softest drawl:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say it again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Please, Marster!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now both together, and a little louder!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Please, Marster</i>,&#8221; came the united chorus.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now what kind of a dog did I say you are?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The kind as comes when his marster calls.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Both together&mdash;the under dog seems to have too much
+cover, like his mouth might be full of cotton.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They repeated it louder.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;A common&mdash;stump-tailed&mdash;cur-dog?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessir.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A common&mdash;stump-tailed&mdash;cur-dog&mdash;Marster!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A pair of them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A pair of &#8217;em.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, the whole thing&mdash;all together&mdash;&#8216;we&mdash;are&mdash;a&mdash;pair!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;Marster.&#8221; They repeated it in chorus.</p>
+<p>&#8220;With apologies to the dogs&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Apologies to the dogs&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And why does your master honour the kennel with his
+presence to-day?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He hit a nigger on the head so hard that he strained
+the nigger&#8217;s ankle, and he&#8217;s restin&#8217; from his labours.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s right, Towser. If I had you and Tige a few
+hours every day I could make good squirrel-dogs out of
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was a pause. Phil looked up and smiled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does it sound like?&#8221; asked the Captain, with a
+shade of doubt in his voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sounds to me like a Sunday-school teacher taking his
+class through a new catechism.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Captain fumbled hurriedly for his keys.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s something wrong in there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He opened the door and sprang in.</p>
+<p>Ben Cameron was sitting on top of the two toughs, knocking
+their heads together as they repeated each chorus.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Walk in, gentlemen. The show is going on now&mdash;the
+animals are doing beautifully,&#8221; said Ben.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></p>
+<p>The Captain muttered an oath. Phil suddenly grasped
+him by the throat, hurled him against the wall, and
+snatched the keys from his hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now open your mouth, you white-livered cur, and
+inside of twenty-four hours I&#8217;ll have you behind the bars.
+I have all the evidence I need. I&#8217;m an ex-officer of the
+United States Army, of the fighting corps&mdash;not the vulture
+division. This is my friend. Accompany us to the
+street and strike your charges from the record.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The coward did as he was ordered, and Ben hurried
+back to Piedmont with a friend toward whom he began
+to feel closer than a brother.</p>
+<p>When Elsie heard the full story of the outrage, she bore
+herself toward Ben with unusual tenderness, and yet he
+knew that the event had driven their lives farther apart.
+He felt instinctively the cold silent eye of her father, and
+his pride stiffened under it. The girl had never considered
+the possibility of a marriage without her father&#8217;s
+blessing. Ben Cameron was too proud to ask it. He
+began to fear that the differences between her father and
+his people reached to the deepest sources of life.</p>
+<p>Phil found himself a hero at the Cameron House. Margaret
+said little, but her bearing spoke in deeper language
+than words. He felt it would be mean to take advantage
+of her gratitude.</p>
+<p>But he was quick to respond to the motherly tenderness
+of Mrs. Cameron. In the groups of neighbours who
+gathered in the evenings to discuss with the doctor the
+hopes, fears, and sorrows of the people, Phil was a
+charmed listener to the most brilliant conversations he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span>
+had ever heard. It seemed the normal expression of their
+lives. He had never before seen people come together
+to talk to one another after this fashion. More and
+more the simplicity, dignity, patience, courtesy, and
+sympathy of these people in their bearing toward one
+another impressed him. More and more he grew to like
+them.</p>
+<p>Marion went out of her way to express her open admiration
+for Phil and tease him about Margaret. The Rev.
+Hugh McAlpin was monopolizing her on the Wednesday
+following his return from Columbia and Phil sought
+Marion for sympathy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What will you give me if I tease you about Margaret
+right before her?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>He blushed furiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you dare such a thing on peril of your life!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know you like to be teased about her,&#8221; she cried,
+her blue eyes dancing with fun.</p>
+<p>&#8220;With such a pretty little friend to do the teasing all by
+ourselves, perhaps&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll never get her unless you have more spunk.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll find consolation with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I mean to marry young.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And your ideal of life?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;To fill the world with flowers, laughter, and music&mdash;especially
+my own home&mdash;and never do a thing I can
+make my husband do for me! How do you like it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it very sweet,&#8221; Phil answered soberly.</p>
+<p>At noon on the following Friday, the Piedmont <i>Eagle</i>
+appeared with an editorial signed by Dr. Cameron, denouncing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span>
+in the fine language of the old school the
+arrest of Ben as &#8220;despotism and the usurpation of
+authority.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At three o&#8217;clock, Captain Gilbert, in command of the
+troops stationed in the village, marched a squad of soldiers
+to the newspaper office. One of them carried a sledge-hammer.
+In ten minutes he demolished the office,
+heaped the type and their splintered cases on top of the
+battered press in the middle of the street, and set fire to
+the pile.</p>
+<p>On the courthouse door he nailed this proclamation:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><i>To the People of Ulster County</i>:</p>
+<p>The censures of the press, directed against the servants of
+the people, may be endured; but the military force in command
+of this district are not the servants of the people of
+South Carolina. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>We are your masters.</span> The impertinence
+of newspaper comment on the military will not be brooked
+<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>under any circumstances whatever</span>.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>G. C. Gilbert</span>,</p>
+<p>Captain in Command.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<p>Not content with this display of power, he determined
+to make an example of Dr. Cameron, as the leader of
+public opinion in the county.</p>
+<p>He ordered a squad of his negro troops to arrest him
+immediately and take him to Columbia for obstructing
+the execution of the Reconstruction Acts. He placed
+the squad under command of Gus, whom he promoted to
+be a corporal, with instructions to wait until the doctor
+was inside his house, boldly enter it and arrest him.</p>
+<p>When Gus marched his black janizaries into the house,
+no one was in the office. Margaret had gone for a ride
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span>
+with Phil, and Ben had strolled with Elsie to Lover&#8217;s
+Leap, unconscious of the excitement in town.</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron himself had heard nothing of it, having
+just reached home from a visit to a country patient.</p>
+<p>Gus stationed his men at each door, and with another
+trooper walked straight into Mrs. Cameron&#8217;s bedroom,
+where the doctor was resting on a lounge.</p>
+<p>Had an imp of perdition suddenly sprung through the
+floor, the master of the house of Cameron would not have
+been more enraged or surprised.</p>
+<p>A sudden leap, as the spring of a panther, and he stood
+before his former slave, his slender frame erect, his face
+a livid spot in its snow-white hair, his brilliant eyes
+flashing with fury.</p>
+<p>Gus suddenly lost control of his knees.</p>
+<p>His old master transfixed him with his eyes, and in a
+voice, whose tones gripped him by the throat, said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;How dare you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The gun fell from the negro&#8217;s hand, and he dropped to
+the floor on his face.</p>
+<p>His companion uttered a yell and sprang through the
+door, rallying the men as he went:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fall back! Fall back! He&#8217;s killed Gus! Shot him
+dead wid his eye. He&#8217;s conjured him! Git de whole
+army quick.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They fled to the Commandant.</p>
+<p>Gilbert ordered the negroes to their tents and led his
+whole company of white regulars to the hotel, arrested
+Dr. Cameron, and rescued his fainting trooper, who had
+been revived and placed under a tree on the lawn.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span></p>
+<p>The little Captain had a wicked look on his face. He
+refused to allow the doctor a moment&#8217;s delay to leave
+instructions for his wife, who had gone to visit a neighbour.
+He was placed in the guard-house, and a detail of
+twenty soldiers stationed around it.</p>
+<p>The arrest was made so quickly, not a dozen people in
+town had heard of it. As fast as it was known, people
+poured into the house, one by one, to express their sympathy.
+But a greater surprise awaited them.</p>
+<p>Within thirty minutes after he had been placed in
+prison, a Lieutenant entered, accompanied by a soldier
+and a negro blacksmith who carried in his hand two big
+chains with shackles on each end.</p>
+<p>The doctor gazed at the intruders a moment with incredulity,
+and then, as the enormity of the outrage
+dawned on him, he flushed and drew himself erect, his
+face livid and rigid.</p>
+<p>He clutched his throat with his slender fingers, slowly
+recovered himself, glanced at the shackles in the black
+hands and then at the young Lieutenant&#8217;s face, and said
+slowly, with heaving breast:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My God! Have you been sent to place these irons
+on me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Such are my orders, sir,&#8221; replied the officer, motioning
+to the negro smith to approach. He stepped forward,
+unlocked the padlock, and prepared the fetters to be
+placed on his arms and legs. These fetters were of
+enormous weight, made of iron rods three quarters
+of an inch thick and connected together by chains of
+like weight.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;This is monstrous!&#8221; groaned the doctor, with choking
+agony, glancing helplessly about the bare cell for some
+weapon with which to defend himself.</p>
+<p>Suddenly looking the Lieutenant in the face, he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I demand, sir, to see your commanding officer. He
+cannot pretend that these shackles are needed to hold a
+weak unarmed man in prison, guarded by two hundred
+soldiers?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is useless. I have his orders direct.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I must see him. No such outrage has ever been
+recorded in the history of the American people. I appeal
+to the Magna Charta rights of every man who speaks
+the English tongue&mdash;no man shall be arrested or imprisoned
+or deprived of his own household, or of his liberties,
+unless by the legal judgment of his peers or by the
+law of the land!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The bayonet is your only law. My orders admit of
+no delay. For your own sake, I advise you to submit.
+As a soldier, Dr. Cameron, you know I must execute
+orders.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;These are not the orders of a soldier!&#8221; shouted the
+prisoner, enraged beyond all control. &#8220;They are orders
+for a jailer, a hangman, a scullion&mdash;no soldier who wears
+the sword of a civilized nation can take such orders. The
+war is over; the South is conquered; I have no country
+save America. For the honour of the flag, for which I
+once poured out my blood on the heights of Buena Vista,
+I protest against this shame!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Lieutenant fell back a moment before the burst of
+his anger.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Kill me! Kill me!&#8221; he went on passionately, throwing
+his arms wide open and exposing his breast. &#8220;Kill&mdash;I
+am in your power. I have no desire to live under such
+conditions. Kill, but you must not inflict on me and on
+my people this insult worse than death!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do your duty, blacksmith,&#8221; said the officer, turning
+his back and walking toward the door.</p>
+<p>The negro advanced with the chains cautiously, and
+attempted to snap one of the shackles on the doctor&#8217;s
+right arm.</p>
+<p>With sudden maniac frenzy, Dr. Cameron seized the
+negro by the throat, hurled him to the floor, and backed
+against the wall.</p>
+<p>The Lieutenant approached and remonstrated:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why compel me to add the indignity of personal violence?
+You must submit.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am your prisoner,&#8221; fiercely retorted the doctor.
+&#8220;I have been a soldier in the armies of America, and I
+know how to die. Kill me, and my last breath will be a
+blessing. But while I have life to resist, for myself and
+for my people, this thing shall not be done!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Lieutenant called a sergeant and a file of soldiers,
+and the sergeant stepped forward to seize the prisoner.</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron sprang on him with the ferocity of a
+tiger, seized his musket, and attempted to wrench it from
+his grasp.</p>
+<p>The men closed in on him. A short passionate fight
+and the slender, proud, gray-haired man lay panting on
+the floor.</p>
+<p>Four powerful assailants held his hands and feet, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span>
+the negro smith, with a grin, secured the rivet on the
+right ankle and turned the key in the padlock on the left.</p>
+<p>As he drove the rivet into the shackle on his left arm,
+a spurt of bruised blood from the old Mexican War wound
+stained the iron.</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron lay for a moment in a stupor. At length
+he slowly rose. The clank of the heavy chains seemed
+to choke him with horror. He sank on the floor, covering
+his face with his hands and groaned:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The shame! The shame! O God, that I might have
+died! My poor, poor wife!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Captain Gilbert entered and said with a sneer:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will take you now to see your wife and friends if
+you would like to call before setting out for Columbia.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor paid no attention to him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you follow me while I lead you through this town,
+to show them their chief has fallen, or will you force me
+to drag you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Receiving no answer, he roughly drew the doctor to
+his feet, held him by the arm, and led him thus in half-unconscious
+stupor through the principal street, followed
+by a drove of negroes. He ordered a squad of troops to
+meet him at the depot. Not a white man appeared on
+the streets. When one saw the sight and heard the clank
+of those chains, there was a sudden tightening of the lip, a
+clinched fist, and an averted face.</p>
+<p>When they approached the hotel, Mrs. Cameron ran to
+meet him, her face white as death.</p>
+<p>In silence she kissed his lips, kissed each shackle on
+his wrists, took her handkerchief and wiped the bruised
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span>
+blood from the old wound on his arm the iron had opened
+afresh, and then with a look, beneath which the Captain
+shrank, she said in low tones:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do your work quickly. You have but a few moments
+to get out of this town with your prisoner. I have sent
+a friend to hold my son. If he comes before you go, he
+will kill you on sight as he would a mad dog.&#8221;</p>
+<p>With a sneer, the Captain passed the hotel and led the
+doctor, still in half-unconscious stupor, toward the depot
+down past his old slave quarters. He had given his
+negroes who remained faithful each a cabin and a lot.</p>
+<p>They looked on in awed silence as the Captain proclaimed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fellow citizens, you are the equal of any white man
+who walks the ground. The white man&#8217;s day is done.
+Your turn has come.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As he passed Jake&#8217;s cabin, the doctor&#8217;s faithful man
+stepped suddenly in front of him, looking at the Captain
+out of the corners of his eyes, and asked:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is I yo&#8217; equal?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Des lak any white man?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Exactly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The negro&#8217;s fist suddenly shot into Gilbert&#8217;s nose with
+the crack of a sledge-hammer, laying him stunned on the
+pavement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Den take dat f&#8217;um yo&#8217; equal, d&mdash;n you!&#8221; he cried,
+bending over his prostrate figure. &#8220;I&#8217;ll show you how to
+treat my ole marster, you low-down slue-footed devil!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The stirring little drama roused the doctor and he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span>
+turned to his servant with his old-time courtesy, and
+said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Jake.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come in here, Marse Richard; I knock dem things
+off&#8217;n you in er minute, &#8217;en I get you outen dis town in er
+jiffy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, Jake, that is not my way; bring this gentleman
+some water, and then my horse and buggy. You can
+take me to the depot. This officer can follow with his
+men.&#8221; And he did.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='V_FORTY_ACRES_AND_A_MULE' id='V_FORTY_ACRES_AND_A_MULE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Forty Acres and a Mule</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When Phil returned with Margaret, he drove at
+Mrs. Cameron&#8217;s request to find Ben, brought
+him with all speed to the hotel, took him to his
+room, and locked the door before he told him the news.
+After an hour&#8217;s blind rage, he agreed to obey his father&#8217;s
+positive orders to keep away from the Captain until his
+return, and to attempt no violence against the authorities.</p>
+<p>Phil undertook to manage the case in Columbia, and
+spent three days collecting his evidence before leaving.</p>
+<p>Swifter feet had anticipated him. Two days after the
+arrival of Dr. Cameron at the fort in Colombia, a dust-stained,
+tired negro was ushered into the presence of
+General Howle.</p>
+<p>He looked about timidly and laughed loudly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, my man, what&#8217;s the trouble? You seem to
+have walked all the way, and laugh as if you were glad
+of it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I &#8216;spec&#8217; I is, sah,&#8221; said Jake, sidling up confidentially.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221; said Howle good-humouredly.</p>
+<p>Jake&#8217;s voice dropped to a whisper.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hears you got my ole marster, Dr. Cameron, in dis
+place.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. What do you know against him?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Nuttin&#8217;, sah. I des hurry &#8217;long down ter take his
+place, so&#8217;s you can sen&#8217; him back home. He&#8217;s erbleeged
+ter go. Dey&#8217;s er pow&#8217;ful lot er sick folks up dar in de
+country cain&#8217;t git &#8217;long widout him, an er pow&#8217;ful lot er
+well ones gwiner be raisin&#8217; de debbel &#8217;bout dis. You can
+hol&#8217; me, sah. Des tell my ole marster when ter be yere,
+en he sho&#8217; come.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Jake paused and bowed low.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah, hit&#8217;s des lak I tell you. Fuddermo&#8217;, I &#8217;spec&#8217;
+I&#8217;se de man what done de damages. I &#8217;spec&#8217; I bus&#8217; de
+Capt&#8217;n&#8217;s nose so &#8217;tain gwine be no mo&#8217; good to &#8217;im.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Howle questioned Jake as to the whole affair, asked him
+a hundred questions about the condition of the county,
+the position of Dr. Cameron, and the possible effect of
+this event on the temper of the people.</p>
+<p>The affair had already given him a bad hour. The
+news of this shackling of one of the most prominent men
+in the State had spread like wildfire, and had caused the
+first deep growl of anger from the people. He saw that it
+was a senseless piece of stupidity. The election was rapidly
+approaching. He was master of the State, and the less
+friction the better. His mind was made up instantly.
+He released Dr. Cameron with an apology, and returned
+with him and Jake for a personal inspection of the affairs
+of Ulster county.</p>
+<p>In a thirty-minutes&#8217; interview with Captain Gilbert,
+Howle gave him more pain than his broken nose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And why did you nail up the doors of that Presbyterian
+church?&#8221; he asked suavely.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because McAlpin, the young cub who preaches there,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span>
+dared come to this camp and insult me about the arrest of
+old Cameron.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you issued an order silencing him from the
+ministry?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did, and told him I&#8217;d shackle him if he opened his
+mouth again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good. The throne of Russia needn&#8217;t worry about a
+worthy successor. Any further ecclesiastical orders?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;None, except the oaths I&#8217;ve prescribed for them before
+they shall preach again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fine! These Scotch Covenanters will feel at home
+with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;ve made them bite the dust&mdash;and they know
+who&#8217;s runnin&#8217; this town, and don&#8217;t you forget it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No doubt. Yet we may have too much of even a
+good thing. The League is here to run this country.
+The business of the military is to keep still and back them
+when they need it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ve the strongest council here to be found in any
+county in this section,&#8221; said Gilbert with pride.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just so. The League meets once a week. We have
+promised them the land of their masters and equal social
+and political rights. Their members go armed to these
+meetings and drill on Saturdays in the public square.
+The white man is afraid to interfere lest his house or
+barn take fire. A negro prisoner in the dock needs only
+to make the sign to be acquitted. Not a negro will dare
+to vote against us. Their women are formed into
+societies, sworn to leave their husbands and refuse to
+marry any man who dares our anger. The negro churches
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span>
+have pledged themselves to expel him from their membership.
+What more do you want?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s another side to it,&#8221; protested the Captain.
+&#8220;Since the League has taken in the negroes, every Union
+white man has dropped it like a hot iron, except the lone
+scallawag or carpet-bagger who expects an office. In the
+church, the social circle, in business or pleasure, these
+men are lepers. How can a human being stand it? I&#8217;ve
+tried to grind this hellish spirit in the dirt under my heel,
+and unless you can do it they&#8217;ll beat you in the long run!
+You&#8217;ve got to have some Southern white men or you&#8217;re
+lost.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll risk it with a hundred thousand negro majority,&#8221;
+said Howle with a sneer. &#8220;The fun will just begin then.
+In the meantime, I&#8217;ll have you ease up on this county&#8217;s
+government. I&#8217;ve brought that man back who knocked
+you down. Let him alone. I&#8217;ve pardoned him. The
+less said about this affair, the better.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>As the day of the election under the new régime of Reconstruction
+drew near, the negroes were excited by
+rumours of the coming great events. Every man was to
+receive forty acres of land for his vote, and the enthusiastic
+speakers and teachers had made the dream a resistless
+one by declaring that the Government would throw in a
+mule with the forty acres. Some who had hesitated
+about the forty acres of land, remembering that it must be
+worked, couldn&#8217;t resist the idea of owning a mule.</p>
+<p>The Freedman&#8217;s Bureau reaped a harvest in $2 marriage
+fees from negroes who were urged thus to make
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span>
+their children heirs of landed estates stocked with
+mules.</p>
+<p>Every stranger who appeared in the village was regarded
+with awe as a possible surveyor sent from Washington
+to run the lines of these forty-acre plots.</p>
+<p>And in due time the surveyors appeared. Uncle Aleck,
+who now devoted his entire time to organizing the League,
+and drinking whiskey which the dues he collected made
+easy, was walking back to Piedmont from a League meeting
+in the country, dreaming of this promised land.</p>
+<p>He lifted his eyes from the dusty way and saw before
+him two surveyors with their arms full of line stakes
+painted red, white, and blue. They were well-dressed
+Yankees&mdash;he could not be mistaken. Not a doubt disturbed
+his mind. The kingdom of heaven was at hand!</p>
+<p>He bowed low and cried:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Praise de Lawd! De messengers is come! I&#8217;se
+waited long, but I sees &#8217;em now wid my own eyes!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You can bet your life on that, old pard,&#8221; said the
+spokesman of the pair. &#8220;We go two and two, just as the
+apostles did in the olden times. We have only a few left.
+The boys are hurrying to get their homes. All you&#8217;ve got
+to do is to drive one of these red, white, and blue stakes
+down at each corner of the forty acres of land you want,
+and every rebel in the infernal regions can&#8217;t pull it up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hear dat now!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just like I tell you. When this stake goes into the
+ground, it&#8217;s like planting a thousand cannon at each
+corner.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;En will the Lawd&#8217;s messengers come wid me right
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span>
+now to de bend er de creek whar I done pick out my
+forty acres?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We will, if you have the needful for the ceremony.
+The fee for the surveyor is small&mdash;only two dollars for
+each stake. We have no time to linger with foolish
+virgins who have no oil in their lamps. The bridegroom
+has come. They who have no oil must remain
+in outer darkness.&#8221; The speaker had evidently been
+a preacher in the North, and his sacred accent sealed his
+authority with the old negro, who had been an exhorter
+himself.</p>
+<p>Aleck felt in his pocket the jingle of twenty gold dollars,
+the initiation fees of the week&#8217;s harvest of the League. He
+drew them, counted out eight, and took his four stakes.
+The surveyors kindly showed him how to drive them
+down firmly to the first stripe of blue. When they had
+stepped off a square of about forty acres of the Lenoir
+farm, including the richest piece of bottom land on the
+creek, which Aleck&#8217;s children under his wife&#8217;s direction
+were working for Mrs. Lenoir, and the four stakes were
+planted, old Aleck shouted:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Glory ter God!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now,&#8221; said the foremost surveyor, &#8220;you want a deed&mdash;a
+deed in fee simple with the big seal of the Government
+on it, and you&#8217;re fixed for life. The deed you can
+take to the courthouse and make the clerk record it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The man drew from his pocket an official-looking
+paper, with a red circular seal pasted on its face.</p>
+<p>Uncle Aleck&#8217;s eyes danced.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is dat de deed?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It will be if I write your name on it and describe the
+land.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;En what&#8217;s de fee fer dat?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only twelve dollars; you can take it now or wait until
+we come again. There&#8217;s no particular hurry about this.
+The wise man, though, leaves nothing for to-morrow that
+he can carry with him to-day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I takes de deed right now, gemmen,&#8221; said Aleck,
+eagerly counting out the remaining twelve dollars. &#8220;Fix
+&#8217;im up for me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The surveyor squatted in the field and carefully wrote
+the document.</p>
+<p>They went on their way rejoicing, and old Aleck hurried
+into Piedmont with the consciousness of lordship of
+the soil. He held himself so proudly that it seemed to
+straighten some of the crook out of his bow legs.</p>
+<p>He marched up to the hotel where Margaret sat reading
+and Marion was on the steps playing with a setter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, Uncle Aleck!&#8221; Marion exclaimed, &#8220;I haven&#8217;t
+seen you in a long time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck drew himself to his full height&mdash;at least, as full
+as his bow legs would permit, and said gruffly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Ma&#8217;ian, I axes you to stop callin&#8217; me &#8216;uncle&#8217;; my
+name is Mr. Alexander Lenoir&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Until Aunt Cindy gets after you,&#8221; laughed the girl.
+&#8220;Then it&#8217;s much shorter than that, Uncle Aleck.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He shuffled his feet and looked out at the square unconcernedly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yaas&#8217;m, dat&#8217;s what fetch me here now. I comes ter
+tell yer Ma ter tell dat &#8217;oman Cindy ter take her chillun
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>
+off my farm. I gwine &#8217;low no mo&#8217; rent-payin&#8217; ter nobody
+off&#8217;n my lan&#8217;!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your land, Uncle Aleck? When did you get it?&#8221;
+asked Marion, placing her cheek against the setter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;De Gubment gim it ter me to-day,&#8221; he replied, fumbling
+in his pocket, and pulling out the document. &#8220;You
+kin read it all dar yo&#8217;sef.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He handed Marion the paper, and Margaret hurried
+down and read it over her shoulder.</p>
+<p>Both girls broke into screams of laughter.</p>
+<p>Aleck looked up sharply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you know what&#8217;s written on this paper, Uncle
+Aleck?&#8221; Margaret asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cose I do. Dat&#8217;s de deed ter my farm er forty acres
+in de land er de creek, whar I done stuck off wid de red,
+white, an&#8217; blue sticks de Gubment gimme.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll read it to you,&#8221; said Margaret.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wait a minute,&#8221; interrupted Marion. &#8220;I want
+Aunt Cindy to hear it&mdash;she&#8217;s here to see Mamma in the
+kitchen now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She ran for Uncle Aleck&#8217;s spouse. Aunt Cindy walked
+around the house and stood by the steps, eying her erstwhile
+lord with contempt.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Got yer deed, is yer, ter stop me payin&#8217; my missy her
+rent fum de lan&#8217; my chillun wucks? Yu&#8217;se er smart boy,
+you is&mdash;let&#8217;s hear de deed!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck edged away a little, and said with a bow:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dar&#8217;s de paper wid de big mark er de Gubment.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aunt Cindy sniffed the air contemptuously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it, honey?&#8221; she asked of Margaret.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></p>
+<p>Margaret read in mock solemnity the mystic writing
+on the deed:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><i>To Whom It May Concern</i>:</p>
+<p>As Moses lifted up the brazen serpent in the wilderness
+for the enlightenment of the people, even so have I lifted
+twenty shining plunks out of this benighted nigger! Selah!</p>
+</div>
+<p>As Uncle Aleck walked away with Aunt Cindy shouting
+in derision, &#8220;Dar, now! Dar, now!&#8221; the bow in his
+legs seemed to have sprung a sharper curve.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VI_A_WHISPER_IN_THE_CROWD' id='VI_A_WHISPER_IN_THE_CROWD'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Whisper in the Crowd</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The excitement which preceded the first Reconstruction
+election in the South paralyzed the
+industries of the country. When demagogues
+poured down from the North and began their raving before
+crowds of ignorant negroes, the plow stopped in the furrow,
+the hoe was dropped, and the millennium was at hand.</p>
+<p>Negro tenants, working under contracts issued by the
+Freedman&#8217;s Bureau, stopped work, and rode their landlords&#8217;
+mules and horses around the county, following
+these orators.</p>
+<p>The loss to the cotton crop alone from the abandonment
+of the growing plant was estimated at over $60,000,000.</p>
+<p>The one thing that saved the situation from despair
+was the large grain and forage crops of the previous
+season which thrifty farmers had stored in their barns.
+So important was the barn and its precious contents that
+Dr. Cameron hired Jake to sleep in his.</p>
+<p>This immense barn, which was situated at the foot of
+the hill some two hundred yards behind the house, had
+become a favourite haunt of Marion and Hugh. She
+had made a pet of the beautiful thoroughbred mare
+which had belonged to Ben during the war. Marion
+went every day to give her an apple or lump of sugar, or
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span>
+carry her a bunch of clover. The mare would follow her
+about like a cat.</p>
+<p>Another attraction at the barn for them was Becky
+Sharpe, Ben&#8217;s setter. She came to Marion one morning,
+wagging her tail, seized her dress and led her into an
+empty stall, where beneath the trough lay sleeping
+snugly ten little white-and-black spotted puppies.</p>
+<p>The girl had never seen such a sight before and went
+into ecstasies. Becky wagged her tail with pride at her
+compliments. Every morning she would pull her gently
+into the stall just to hear her talk and laugh and pet her
+babies.</p>
+<p>Whatever election day meant to the men, to Marion it
+was one of unalloyed happiness: she was to ride horseback
+alone and dance at her first ball. Ben had taught
+her to ride, and told her she could take Queen to Lover&#8217;s
+Leap and back alone. Trembling with joy, her beautiful
+face wreathed in smiles, she led the mare to the pond in
+the edge of the lot and watched her drink its pure spring
+water.</p>
+<p>When he helped her to mount in front of the hotel
+under her mother&#8217;s gaze, and saw her ride out of the
+gate, with the exquisite lines of her little figure melting
+into the graceful lines of the mare&#8217;s glistening form, he
+exclaimed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I declare, I don&#8217;t know which is the prettier, Marion
+or Queen!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know,&#8221; was the mother&#8217;s soft answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are both thoroughbreds,&#8221; said Ben, watching
+them admiringly.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Wait till you see her to-night in her first ball dress,&#8221;
+whispered Mrs. Lenoir.</p>
+<p>At noon Ben and Phil strolled to the polling-place to
+watch the progress of the first election under negro rule.
+The Square was jammed with shouting, jostling, perspiring
+negroes, men, women, and children. The day was warm,
+and the African odour was supreme even in the open air.</p>
+<p>A crowd of two hundred were packed around a peddler&#8217;s
+box. There were two of them&mdash;one crying the wares,
+and the other wrapping and delivering the goods. They
+were selling a new patent poison for rats.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve only a few more bottles left now, gentlemen,&#8221; he
+shouted, &#8220;and the polls will close at sundown. A great
+day for our brother in black. Two years of army rations
+from the Freedman&#8217;s Bureau, with old army
+clothes thrown in, and now the ballot&mdash;the priceless
+glory of American citizenship. But better still the
+very land is to be taken from these proud aristocrats
+and given to the poor down-trodden black man. Forty
+acres and a mule&mdash;think of it! Provided, mind you&mdash;that
+you have a bottle of my wonder-worker to kill the
+rats and save your corn for the mule. No man can have
+the mule unless he has corn; and no man can have corn if
+he has rats&mdash;and only a few bottles left&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gimme one,&#8221; yelled a negro.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Forty acres and a mule, your old masters to work
+your land and pay his rent in corn, while you sit back in
+the shade and see him sweat.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gimme er bottle and two er dem pictures!&#8221; bawled
+another candidate for a mule.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></p>
+<p>The peddler handed him the bottle and the pictures
+and threw a handful of his labels among the crowd.
+These labels happened to be just the size of the ballots,
+having on them the picture of a dead rat lying on his back,
+and above, the emblem of death, the crossbones and skull.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Forty acres and a mule for every black man&mdash;why
+was I ever born white? I never had no luck, nohow!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil and Ben passed on nearer the polling-place, around
+which stood a cordon of soldiers with a line of negro voters
+two hundred yards in length extending back into the crowd.</p>
+<p>The negro Leagues came in armed battalions and voted
+in droves, carrying their muskets in their hands. Less
+than a dozen white men were to be seen about the place.</p>
+<p>The negroes, under the drill of the League and the
+Freedman&#8217;s Bureau, protected by the bayonet, were
+voting to enfranchise themselves, disfranchise their
+former masters, ratify a new constitution, and elect a
+legislature to do their will. Old Aleck was a candidate
+for the House, chief poll-holder, and seemed to be in
+charge of the movements of the voters outside the booth
+as well as inside. He appeared to be omnipresent, and
+his self-importance was a sight Phil had never dreamed.
+He could not keep his eyes off him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;By George, Cameron, he&#8217;s a wonder!&#8221; he laughed.</p>
+<p>Aleck had suppressed as far as possible the story of the
+painted stakes and the deed, after sending out warnings
+to the brethren to beware of two enticing strangers.
+The surveyors had reaped a rich harvest and passed on.
+Aleck made up his mind to go to Columbia, make the laws
+himself, and never again trust a white man from the North
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>
+or South. The agent of the Freedman&#8217;s Bureau at Piedmont
+tried to choke him off the ticket. The League
+backed him to a man. He could neither read nor write,
+but before he took to whiskey he had made a specialty of
+revival exhortation, and his mouth was the most effective
+thing about him. In this campaign he was an orator of
+no mean powers. He knew what he wanted, and he
+knew what his people wanted, and he put the thing in
+words so plain that a wayfaring man, though a fool,
+couldn&#8217;t make any mistake about it.</p>
+<p>As he bustled past, forming a battalion of his brethren
+in line to march to the polls, Phil followed his every movement
+with amused interest.</p>
+<p>Besides being so bow-legged that his walk was a moving
+joke he was so striking a negro in his personal appearance,
+he seemed to the young Northerner almost a distinct
+type of man.</p>
+<p>His head was small and seemed mashed on the sides
+until it bulged into a double lobe behind. Even his ears,
+which he had pierced and hung with red earbobs, seemed
+to have been crushed flat to the side of his head. His
+kinked hair was wrapped in little hard rolls close to the
+skull and bound tightly with dirty thread. His receding
+forehead was high and indicated a cunning intelligence.
+His nose was broad and crushed flat against his face.
+His jaws were strong and angular, mouth wide, and lips
+thick, curling back from rows of solid teeth set obliquely
+in their blue gums. The one perfect thing about him
+was the size and setting of his mouth&mdash;he was a born
+African orator, undoubtedly descended from a long line
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span>
+of savage spell-binders, whose eloquence in the palaver
+houses of the jungle had made them native leaders. His
+thin spindle-shanks supported an oblong, protruding
+stomach, resembling an elderly monkey&#8217;s, which seemed
+so heavy it swayed his back to carry it.</p>
+<p>The animal vivacity of his small eyes and the flexibility
+of his eyebrows, which he worked up and down rapidly with
+every change of countenance, expressed his eager desires.</p>
+<p>He had laid aside his new shoes, which hurt him, and
+went barefooted to facilitate his movements on the great
+occasion. His heels projected and his foot was so flat
+that what should have been the hollow of it made a hole
+in the dirt where he left his track.</p>
+<p>He was already mellow with liquor, and was dressed in
+an old army uniform and cap, with two horse pistols
+buckled around his waist. On a strap hanging from his
+shoulder were strung a half-dozen tin canteens filled with
+whiskey.</p>
+<p>A disturbance in the line of voters caused the young
+men to move forward to see what it meant.</p>
+<p>Two negro troopers had pulled Jake out of the line, and
+were dragging him toward old Aleck.</p>
+<p>The election judge straightened himself up with great
+dignity:</p>
+<p>&#8220;What wuz de rapscallion doin&#8217;?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;In de line, tryin&#8217; ter vote.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fetch &#8217;im befo&#8217; de judgment bar,&#8221; said Aleck, taking
+a drink from one of his canteens.</p>
+<p>The troopers brought Jake before the judge.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tryin&#8217; ter vote, is yer?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Lowed I would.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You hear &#8217;bout de great sassieties de Gubment&#8217;s
+fomentin&#8217; in dis country?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yas, I hear erbout &#8217;em.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is yer er member er de Union League?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Na-sah. I&#8217;d rudder steal by myself. I doan&#8217; lak too
+many in de party!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;En yer ain&#8217;t er No&#8217;f Ca&#8217;liny gemmen, is yer&mdash;yer
+ain&#8217;t er member er de &#8216;Red Strings?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Na-sah, I come when I&#8217;se called&mdash;dey doan&#8217; hatter
+put er string on me&mdash;ner er block, ner er collar, ner er
+chain, ner er muzzle&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will yer &#8217;splain ter dis cote&mdash;&mdash;&#8221; railed Aleck.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What cote? Dat ole army cote?&#8221; Jake laughed in
+loud peals that rang over the square.</p>
+<p>Aleck recovered his dignity and demanded angrily:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Does yer belong ter de Heroes ob Americky?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Na-sah. I ain&#8217;t burnt nobody&#8217;s house ner barn yet,
+ner hamstrung no stock, ner waylaid nobody atter night&mdash;honey,
+I ain&#8217;t fit ter jine. Heroes ob Americky! Is
+you er hero?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ef yer doan&#8217; b&#8217;long ter no s&#8217;iety,&#8221; said Aleck with
+judicial deliberation, &#8220;what is you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Des er ole-fashun all-wool-en-er-yard-wide nigger dat
+stan&#8217;s by his ole marster &#8217;cause he&#8217;s his bes&#8217; frien&#8217;, stays
+at home, en tends ter his own business.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;En yer pay no &#8217;tenshun ter de orders I sent yer ter jine
+de League?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Na-sah. I ain&#8217;t er takin&#8217; orders f&#8217;um er skeer-crow.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></p>
+<p>Aleck ignored his insolence, secure in his power.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You doan b&#8217;long ter no s&#8217;iety, what yer git in dat
+line ter vote for?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ain&#8217;t I er nigger?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But yer ain&#8217;t de right kin&#8217; er nigger. &#8216;Res&#8217; dat man
+fer &#8216;sturbin&#8217; de peace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They put Jake in jail, persuaded his wife to leave him,
+and expelled him from the Baptist church, all within the
+week.</p>
+<p>As the troopers led Jake to prison, a young negro apparently
+about fifteen years old approached Aleck, holding
+in his hand one of the peddler&#8217;s rat labels, which had
+gotten well distributed among the crowd. A group of
+negro boys followed him with these rat labels in their
+hands, studying them intently.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look at dis ticket, Uncle Aleck,&#8221; said the leader.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Alexander Lenoir, sah&mdash;is I yo&#8217; uncle, nigger?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The youth walled his eyes angrily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Den doan&#8217; you call me er nigger!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who&#8217; yer talkin to, sah? You kin fling yer sass at
+white folks, but, honey, yuse er projeckin&#8217; wid death
+now!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t er nigger&mdash;I&#8217;se er gemman, I is,&#8221; was the sullen
+answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How ole is you?&#8221; asked Aleck in milder tones.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Me mudder say sixteen&mdash;but de Buro man say I&#8217;se
+twenty-one yistiddy, de day &#8216;fo&#8217; &#8217;lection.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is you voted to-day?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah; vote in all de boxes &#8216;cept&#8217;n dis one. Look at
+dat ticket. Is dat de straight ticket?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span></p>
+<p>Aleck, who couldn&#8217;t read the twelve-inch letters of his
+favourite bar-room sign, took the rat label and examined
+it critically.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What ail it?&#8221; he asked at length.</p>
+<p>The boy pointed at the picture of the rat.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What dat rat doin&#8217;, lyin&#8217; dar on his back, wid his heels
+cocked up in de air&mdash;&#8217;pear ter me lak a rat otter be standin&#8217;
+on his feet!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck reëxamined it carefully, and then smiled benignly
+on the youth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;De ignance er dese folks. What ud yer do widout er
+man lak me enjued wid de sperit en de power ter splain
+tings?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You sho&#8217; got de sperits,&#8221; said the boy impudently,
+touching a canteen.</p>
+<p>Aleck ignored the remark and looked at the rat label
+smilingly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ain&#8217;t we er votin&#8217;, ter-day, on de Constertooshun
+what&#8217;s ter take de ballot away f&#8217;um de white folks en gib
+all de power ter de cullud gemmen&mdash;I axes yer dat?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The boy stuck his thumbs under his arms and walled
+his eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Den dat means de ratification ob de Constertooshun!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil laughed, followed, and watched them fold their
+tickets, get in line, and vote the rat labels.</p>
+<p>Ben turned toward a white man with gray beard, who
+stood watching the crowd.</p>
+<p>He was a pious member of the Presbyterian church but
+his face didn&#8217;t have a pious expression to-day. He had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>
+been refused the right to vote because he had aided the
+Confederacy by nursing one of his wounded boys.</p>
+<p>He touched his hat politely to Ben.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you think of it, Colonel Cameron?&#8221; he
+asked with a touch of scorn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s your opinion, Mr. McAllister?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, Colonel, I&#8217;ve been a member of the church for
+over forty years. I&#8217;m not a cussin&#8217; man&mdash;but there&#8217;s a
+sight I never expected to live to see. I&#8217;ve been a faithful
+citizen of this State for fifty years. I can&#8217;t vote, and a
+nigger is to be elected to-day to represent me in the
+Legislature. Neither you, Colonel, nor your father are
+good enough to vote. Every nigger in this county sixteen
+years old and up voted to-day&mdash;I ain&#8217;t a cussing man,
+and I don&#8217;t say it as a cuss word, but all I&#8217;ve got to say
+is, IF there BE such a thing as a d&mdash;d shame&mdash;that&#8217;s it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. McAllister, the recording angel wouldn&#8217;t have
+made a mark had you said it without the &#8216;IF.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;God knows what this country&#8217;s coming to&mdash;I don&#8217;t,&#8221;
+said the old man bitterly. &#8220;I&#8217;m afraid to let my wife
+and daughter go out of the house, or stay in it, without
+somebody with them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben leaned closer and whispered, as Phil approached:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come to my office to-night at ten o&#8217;clock; I want to
+see you on some important business.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man seized his hand eagerly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shall I bring the boys?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben smiled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No. I&#8217;ve seen them some time ago.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VII_BY_THE_LIGHT_OF_A_TORCH' id='VII_BY_THE_LIGHT_OF_A_TORCH'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>By the Light of a Torch</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>On the night of the election Mrs. Lenoir gave a
+ball at the hotel in honour of Marion&#8217;s entrance
+into society. She was only in her sixteenth year,
+yet older than her mother when mistress of her own household.
+The only ambition the mother cherished was that
+she might win the love of an honest man and build for
+herself a beautiful home on the site of the cottage covered
+with trailing roses. In this home dream for Marion she
+found a great sustaining joy to which nothing in the life
+of man answers.</p>
+<p>The ball had its political significance which the military
+martinet who commanded the post understood. It
+was the way the people of Piedmont expressed to him
+and the world their contempt for the farce of an election
+he had conducted, and their indifference as to the result
+he would celebrate with many guns before midnight.</p>
+<p>The young people of the town were out in force.
+Marion was a universal favourite. The grace, charm, and
+tender beauty of the Southern girl of sixteen were combined
+in her with a gentle and unselfish disposition. Amid
+poverty that was pitiful, unconscious of its limitations,
+her thoughts were always of others, and she was the one
+human being everybody had agreed to love. In the village
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span>
+in which she lived wealth counted for naught. She
+belonged to the aristocracy of poetry, beauty, and intrinsic
+worth, and her people knew no other.</p>
+<p>As she stood in the long dining-room, dressed in her
+first ball costume of white organdy and lace, the little
+plump shoulders peeping through its meshes, she was the
+picture of happiness. A half-dozen boys hung on every
+word as the utterance of an oracle. She waved gently
+an old ivory fan with white down on its edges in a way
+the charm of which is the secret birthright of every
+Southern girl.</p>
+<p>Now and then she glanced at the door for some one
+who had not yet appeared.</p>
+<p>Phil paid his tribute to her with genuine feeling, and
+Marion repaid him by whispering:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Margaret&#8217;s dressed to kill&mdash;all in soft azure blue&mdash;her
+rosy cheeks, black hair, and eyes never shone as
+they do to-night. She doesn&#8217;t dance on account of her
+Sunday-school&mdash;it&#8217;s all for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil blushed and smiled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The preacher won&#8217;t be here?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Our rector will.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s a nice old gentleman. I&#8217;m fond of him. Miss
+Marion, your mother is a genius. I hope she can plan
+these little affairs oftener.&#8221;</p>
+<p>It was half-past ten o&#8217;clock when Ben Cameron entered
+the room with Elsie a little ruffled at his delay over
+imaginary business at his office. Ben answered her
+criticisms with a strange elation. She had felt a secret
+between them and resented it.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></p>
+<p>At Mrs. Lenoir&#8217;s special request, he had put on his full
+uniform of a Confederate Colonel in honour of Marion
+and the poem her father had written of one of his gallant
+charges. He had not worn it since he fell that day in
+Phil&#8217;s arms.</p>
+<p>No one in the room had ever seen him in this Colonel&#8217;s
+uniform. Its yellow sash with the gold fringe and tassels
+was faded and there were two bullet holes in the coat. A
+murmur of applause from the boys, sighs and exclamations
+from the girls swept the room as he took Marion&#8217;s
+hand, bowed and kissed it. Her blue eyes danced and
+smiled on him with frank admiration.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ben, you&#8217;re the handsomest thing I&#8217;ve ever seen!&#8221;
+she said softly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thanks. I thought you had a mirror. I&#8217;ll send you
+one,&#8221; he answered, slipping his arm around her and gliding
+away to the strains of a waltz. The girl&#8217;s hand trembled
+as she placed it on his shoulder, her cheeks were
+flushed, and her eyes had a wistful dreamy look in their
+depths.</p>
+<p>When Ben rejoined Elsie and they strolled on the
+lawn, the military commandant suddenly confronted
+them with a squad of soldiers.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll trouble you for those buttons and shoulder
+straps,&#8221; said the Captain.</p>
+<p>Elsie&#8217;s amber eyes began to spit fire. Ben stood still
+and smiled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That I will not be insulted by the wearing of this
+uniform to-day.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I dare you to touch it, coward, poltroon!&#8221; cried the
+girl, her plump little figure bristling in front of her lover.</p>
+<p>Ben laid his hand on her arm and gently drew her
+back to his side: &#8220;He has the power to do this. It is a
+technical violation of law to wear them. I have surrendered.
+I am a gentleman and I have been a soldier. He
+can have his tribute. I&#8217;ve promised my father to offer no
+violence to the military authority of the United States.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He stepped forward, and the officer cut the buttons
+from his coat and ripped the straps from his shoulders.</p>
+<p>While the performance was going on, Ben quietly said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;General Grant at Appomattox, with the instincts of
+a great soldier, gave our men his spare horses and ordered
+that Confederate officers retain their side-arms. The
+General is evidently not in touch with this force.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No: I&#8217;m in command in this county,&#8221; said the
+Captain.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Evidently.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When he had gone, Elsie&#8217;s eyes were dim. They
+strolled under the shadow of the great oak and stood in
+silence, listening to the music within and the distant
+murmur of the falls.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why is it, sweetheart, that a girl will persist in admiring
+brass buttons?&#8221; Ben asked softly.</p>
+<p>She raised her lips to his for a kiss and answered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because a soldier&#8217;s business is to die for his country.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As Ben led her back into the ballroom and surrendered
+her to a friend for a dance, the first gun pealed its
+note of victory from the square in the celebration of the
+triumph of the African slave over his white master.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span></p>
+<p>Ben strolled out in the street to hear the news.</p>
+<p>The Constitution had been ratified by an enormous
+majority, and a Legislature elected composed of 101 negroes
+and 23 white men. Silas Lynch had been elected
+Lieutenant-Governor, a negro Secretary of State, a
+negro Treasurer, and a negro Justice of the Supreme
+Court.</p>
+<p>When Bizzel, the wizzen-faced agent of the Freedman&#8217;s
+Bureau, made this announcement from the courthouse
+steps, pandemonium broke lose. An incessant rattle of
+musketry began in which ball cartridges were used, the
+missiles whistling over the town in every direction. Yet
+within half an hour the square was deserted and a strange
+quiet followed the storm.</p>
+<p>Old Aleck staggered by the hotel, his drunkenness
+having reached the religious stage.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Behold, a curiosity, gentlemen,&#8221; cried Ben to a group
+of boys who had gathered, &#8220;a voter is come among us&mdash;in
+fact, he is the people, the king, our representative
+elect, the Honourable Alexander Lenoir, of the county of
+Ulster!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gemmens, de Lawd&#8217;s bin good ter me,&#8221; said Aleck,
+weeping copiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They say the rat labels were in a majority in this precinct&mdash;how
+was that?&#8221; asked Ben.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah&mdash;dat what de scornful say&mdash;dem dat sets in
+de seat o&#8217; de scornful, but de Lawd er Hosts He fetch &#8217;em
+low. Mistah Bissel de Buro man count all dem rat votes
+right, sah&mdash;dey couldn&#8217;t fool him&mdash;he know what dey
+mean&mdash;he count &#8217;em all for me an&#8217; de ratification.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Sure-pop!&#8221; said Ben; &#8220;if you can&#8217;t ratify with a rat,
+I&#8217;d like to know why?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dat&#8217;s what I tells &#8217;em, sah.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course,&#8221; said Ben good-humouredly. &#8220;The voice
+of the people is the voice of God&mdash;rats or no rats&mdash;if you
+know how to count.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As old Aleck staggered away, the sudden crash of a
+volley of musketry echoed in the distance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that?&#8221; asked Ben, listening intently. The
+sound was unmistakable to a soldier&#8217;s ear&mdash;that volley
+from a hundred rifles at a single word of command. It
+was followed by a shot on a hill in the distance, and then
+by a faint echo, farther still. Ben listened a few moments
+and turned into the lawn of the hotel. The music suddenly
+stopped, the tramp of feet echoed on the porch, a
+woman screamed, and from the rear of the house came the
+cry:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fire! Fire!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Almost at the same moment an immense sheet of flame
+shot skyward from the big barn.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My God!&#8221; groaned Ben. &#8220;Jake&#8217;s in jail to-night,
+and they&#8217;ve set the barn on fire. It&#8217;s worth more than
+the house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The crowd rushed down the hill to the blazing building,
+Marion&#8217;s fleet figure in its flying white dress leading the
+crowd.</p>
+<p>The lowing of the cows and the wild neighing of the
+horses rang above the roar of the flames.</p>
+<p>Before Ben could reach the spot Marion had opened
+every stall. Two cows leaped out to safety, but not a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span>
+horse would move from its stall, and each moment wilder
+and more pitiful grew their death cries.</p>
+<p>Marion rushed to Ben, her eyes dilated, her face as
+white as the dress she wore.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Ben, Queen won&#8217;t come out! What shall I do?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You can do nothing, child. A horse won&#8217;t come out
+of a burning stable unless he&#8217;s blindfolded. They&#8217;ll all be
+burned to death.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh! no!&#8221; the girl cried in agony.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;d trample you to death if you tried to get them
+out. It can&#8217;t be helped. It&#8217;s too late.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As Ben looked back at the gathering crowd, Marion
+suddenly snatched a horse blanket, lying at the door, ran
+with the speed of a deer to the pond, plunged in, sprang out,
+and sped back to the open door of Queen&#8217;s stall, through
+which her shrill cry could be heard above the others.</p>
+<p>As the girl ran toward the burning building, her thin
+white dress clinging close to her exquisite form, she looked
+like the marble figure of a sylph by the hand of some great
+master into which God had suddenly breathed the breath
+of life.</p>
+<p>As they saw her purpose, a cry of horror rose from the
+crowd, her mother&#8217;s scream loud above the rest.</p>
+<p>Ben rushed to catch her, shouting:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Marion! Marion! She&#8217;ll trample you to death!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He was too late. She leaped into the stall. The
+crowd held their breath. There was a moment of awful
+suspense, and the mare sprang through the open door
+with the little white figure clinging to her mane and holding
+the blanket over her head.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span></p>
+<p>A cheer rang above the roar of the flames. The girl
+did not loose her hold until her beautiful pet was led to a
+place of safety, while she clung to her neck and laughed
+and cried for joy. First her mother, then Margaret,
+Mrs. Cameron, and Elsie took her in their arms.</p>
+<p>As Ben approached the group, Elsie whispered to him:
+&#8220;Kiss her!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben took her hand, his eyes full of unshed tears, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The bravest deed a woman ever did&mdash;you&#8217;re a heroine,
+Marion!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Before she knew it he stooped and kissed her.</p>
+<p>She was very still for a moment, smiled, trembled from
+head to foot, blushed scarlet, took her mother by the
+hand, and without a word hurried to the house.</p>
+<p>Poor Becky was whining among the excited crowd and
+sought in vain for Marion. At last she got Margaret&#8217;s
+attention, caught her dress in her teeth and led her
+to a corner of the lot, where she had laid side by side her
+puppies, smothered to death. She stood and looked at
+them with her tail drooping, the picture of despair. Margaret
+burst into tears and called Ben.</p>
+<p>He bent and put his arm around the setter&#8217;s neck and
+stroked her head with his hand. Looking at up his sister,
+he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t tell Marion of this. She can&#8217;t stand any more
+to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The crowd had all dispersed, and the flames had died
+down for want of fuel. The odour of roasting flesh, pungent
+and acrid, still lingered a sharp reminder of the
+tragedy.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span></p>
+<p>Ben stood on the back porch, talking in low tones to his
+father.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you join us now, sir? We need the name and influence
+of men of your standing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My boy, two wrongs never made a right. It&#8217;s better
+to endure awhile. The sober commonsense of the Nation
+will yet save us. We must appeal to it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Eight more fires were seen from town to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You only guess their origin.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know their origin. It was done by the League at
+a signal as a celebration of the election and a threat of
+terror to the county. One of our men concealed a faithful
+negro under the floor of the school-house and heard
+the plot hatched. We expected it a month ago&mdash;but
+hoped they had given it up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Even so, my boy, a secret society such as you have
+planned means a conspiracy that may bring exile or
+death. I hate lawlessness and disorder. We have had
+enough of it. Your clan means ultimately martial law.
+At least we will get rid of these soldiers by this election.
+They have done their worst to me, but we may save
+others by patience.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s the only way, sir. The next step will be a black
+hand on a white woman&#8217;s throat!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor frowned. &#8220;Let us hope for the best.
+Your clan is the last act of desperation.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But if everything else fail, and this creeping horror
+becomes a fact&mdash;then what?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My boy, we will pray that God may never let us live
+to see the day!&#8221;</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-262.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 538px; height: 386px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 538px;'>
+THE BLACK MASTERS OF THE SOUTH DURING RECONSTRUCTION.<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VIII_THE_RIOT_IN_THE_MASTER_S_HALL' id='VIII_THE_RIOT_IN_THE_MASTER_S_HALL'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Riot in the Master&#8217;s Hall</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Alarmed at the possible growth of the secret clan
+into which Ben had urged him to enter, Dr.
+Cameron determined to press for relief from oppression
+by an open appeal to the conscience of the Nation.</p>
+<p>He called a meeting of conservative leaders in a
+Taxpayers&#8217; Convention at Columbia. His position as
+leader had been made supreme by the indignities he
+had suffered, and he felt sure of his ability to accomplish
+results. Every county in the State was represented by
+its best men in this gathering at the Capitol.</p>
+<p>The day he undertook to present his memorial to the
+Legislature was one he never forgot. The streets were
+crowded with negroes who had come to town to hear
+Lynch, the Lieutenant-Governor, speak in a mass-meeting.
+Negro policemen swung their clubs in his face as
+he pressed through the insolent throng up the street to
+the stately marble Capitol. At the door a black, greasy
+trooper stopped him to parley. Every decently dressed
+white man was regarded a spy.</p>
+<p>As he passed inside the doors of the House of Representatives
+the rush of foul air staggered him. The reek
+of vile cigars and stale whiskey, mingled with the odour of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span>
+perspiring negroes, was overwhelming. He paused and
+gasped for breath.</p>
+<p>The space behind the seats of the members was strewn
+with corks, broken glass, stale crusts, greasy pieces of
+paper, and picked bones. The hall was packed with
+negroes, smoking, chewing, jabbering, pushing, perspiring.</p>
+<p>A carpet-bagger at his elbow was explaining to an old
+darkey from down east why his forty acres and a mule
+hadn&#8217;t come.</p>
+<p>On the other side of him a big negro bawled:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dat&#8217;s all right! De cullud man on top!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor surveyed the hall in dismay. At first not a
+white member was visible. The galleries were packed
+with negroes. The Speaker presiding was a negro, the
+Clerk a negro, the doorkeepers negroes, the little pages all
+coal-black negroes, the Chaplain a negro. The negro
+party consisted of one hundred and one&mdash;ninety-four
+blacks and seven scallawags, who claimed to be white.
+The remains of Aryan civilization were represented by
+twenty-three white men from the Scotch-Irish hill
+counties.</p>
+<p>The doctor had served three terms as the member from
+Ulster in this hall in the old days, and its appearance
+now was beyond any conceivable depth of degradation.</p>
+<p>The ninety-four Africans, constituting almost its solid
+membership, were a motley crew. Every negro type was
+there, from the genteel butler to the clodhopper from the
+cotton and rice fields. Some had on second-hand seedy
+frock-coats their old master had given them before the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span>
+war, glossy and threadbare. Old stovepipe hats, of every
+style in vogue since Noah came out of the ark, were
+placed conspicuously on the desks or cocked on the backs
+of the heads of the honourable members. Some wore the
+coarse clothes of the field, stained with red mud.</p>
+<p>Old Aleck, he noted, had a red woollen comforter wound
+round his neck in place of a shirt or collar. He had tried
+to go barefooted, but the Speaker had issued a rule that
+members should come shod. He was easing his feet by
+placing his brogans under the desk, wearing only his red
+socks.</p>
+<p>Each member had his name painted in enormous gold
+letters on his desk, and had placed beside it a sixty-dollar
+French imported spittoon. Even the Congress of the
+United States, under the inspiration of Oakes Ames and
+Speaker Colfax, could only afford one of domestic make,
+which cost a dollar.</p>
+<p>The uproar was deafening. From four to six negroes
+were trying to speak at the same time. Aleck&#8217;s majestic
+mouth with blue gums and projecting teeth led the chorus
+as he ambled down the aisle, his bow-legs flying their red-sock
+ensigns.</p>
+<p>The Speaker singled him out&mdash;his voice was something
+which simply could not be ignored&mdash;rapped and yelled:</p>
+<p>&#8220;De gemman from Ulster set down!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck turned crestfallen and resumed his seat, throwing
+his big flat feet in their red woollens up on his desk
+and hiding his face behind their enormous spread.</p>
+<p>He had barely settled in his chair before a new idea
+flashed through his head and up he jumped again:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Mistah Speaker!&#8221; he bawled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Orda da!&#8221; yelled another.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Knock &#8217;im in de head!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Seddown, nigger!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Speaker pointed his gavel at Aleck and threatened
+him laughingly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ef de gemman from Ulster doan set down I gwine call
+&#8217;im ter orda!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Uncle Aleck greeted this threat with a wild guffaw,
+which the whole House about him joined in heartily.
+They laughed like so many hens cackling&mdash;when one
+started the others would follow.</p>
+<p>The most of them were munching peanuts, and the
+crush of hulls under heavy feet added a subnote to the
+confusion like the crackle of a prairie fire.</p>
+<p>The ambition of each negro seemed to be to speak at
+least a half-dozen times on each question, saying the same
+thing every time.</p>
+<p>No man was allowed to talk five minutes without an
+interruption which brought on another and another
+until the speaker was drowned in a storm of contending
+yells. Their struggles to get the floor with bawlings,
+bellowings, and contortions, and the senseless rap of the
+Speaker&#8217;s gavel, were something appalling.</p>
+<p>On this scene, through fetid smoke and animal roar,
+looked down from the walls, in marble bas-relief, the still
+white faces of Robert Hayne and George McDuffie,
+through whose veins flowed the blood of Scottish kings,
+while over it brooded in solemn wonder the face of John
+Laurens, whose diplomatic genius at the court of France
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span>
+won millions of gold for our tottering cause, and sent a
+French fleet and army into the Chesapeake to entrap
+Cornwallis at Yorktown.</p>
+<p>The little group of twenty-three white men, the descendants
+of these spirits, to whom Dr. Cameron had brought
+his memorial, presented a pathetic spectacle. Most of
+them were old men, who sat in grim silence with nothing
+to do or say as they watched the rising black tide, their
+dignity, reserve, and decorum at once the wonder and the
+shame of the modern world.</p>
+<p>At least they knew that the minstrel farce being enacted
+on that floor was a tragedy as deep and dark as
+was ever woven of the blood and tears of a conquered
+people. Beneath those loud guffaws they could hear the
+death rattle in the throat of their beloved State, barbarism
+strangling civilization by brute force.</p>
+<p>For all the stupid uproar, the black leaders of this mob
+knew what they wanted. One of them was speaking now,
+the leader of the House, the Honourable Napoleon
+Whipper.</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron had taken his seat in the little group of
+white members in one corner of the chamber, beside an
+old friend from an adjoining county whom he had known
+in better days.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now listen,&#8221; said his friend. &#8220;When Whipper talks
+he always says something.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Speaker, I move you, sir, in view of the arduous
+duties which our presiding officer has performed this
+week for the State, that he be allowed one thousand
+dollars extra pay.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span></p>
+<p>The motion was put without debate and carried.</p>
+<p>The Speaker then called Whipper to the Chair and
+made the same motion, to give the Leader of the House
+an extra thousand dollars for the performance of his heavy
+duties.</p>
+<p>It was carried.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does that mean?&#8221; asked the doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very simple; Whipper and the Speaker adjourned the
+House yesterday afternoon to attend a horse race. They
+lost a thousand dollars each betting on the wrong horse.
+They are recuperating after the strain. They are booked
+for judges of the Supreme Court when they finish this job.
+The negro mass-meeting to-night is to indorse their names
+for the Supreme Bench.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it possible!&#8221; the doctor exclaimed.</p>
+<p>When Whipper resumed his place at his desk, the introduction
+of bills began. One after another were sent to
+the Speaker&#8217;s desk, a measure to disarm the whites and
+equip with modern rifles a negro militia of 80,000 men;
+to make the uniform of Confederate gray the garb of convicts
+in South Carolina, with a sign of the rank to signify
+the degree of crime; to prevent any person calling another
+a &#8220;nigger&#8221;; to require men to remove their hats in the
+presence of all officers, civil or military, and all disfranchised
+men to remove their hats in the presence of voters;
+to force black and whites to attend the same schools and
+open the State University to negroes; to permit the intermarriage
+of whites and blacks; and to inforce social
+equality.</p>
+<p>Whipper made a brief speech on the last measure:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Before I am through, I mean that it shall be known
+that Napoleon Whipper is as good as any man in South
+Carolina. Don&#8217;t tell me that I am not on an equality with
+any man God ever made.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron turned pale, and trembling with excitement,
+asked his friend:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can that man pass such measures, and the Governor
+sign them?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He can pass anything he wishes. The Governor is
+his creature&mdash;a dirty little scallawag who tore the Union
+flag from Fort Sumter, trampled it in the dust, and helped
+raise the flag of Confederacy over it. Now he is backed
+by the Government at Washington. He won his election
+by dancing at negro balls and the purchase of delegates.
+His salary as Governor is $3,500 a year, and he spends
+over $40,000. Comment is unnecessary. This Legislature
+has stolen millions of dollars, and already bankrupted
+the treasury. The day Howle was elected to the
+Senate of the United States every negro on the floor had
+his roll of bills and some of them counted it out on their
+desks. In your day the annual cost of the State government
+was $400,000. This year it is $2,000,000. These
+thieves steal daily. They don&#8217;t deny it. They simply
+dare you to prove it. The writing paper on the desks
+cost $16,000. These clocks on the wall $600 each, and
+every little Radical newspaper in the State has been subsidized
+in sums varying from $1,000 to $7,000. Each
+member is allowed to draw for mileage, per diem, and
+&#8216;sundries.&#8217; God only knows what the bill for &#8216;sundries&#8217;
+will aggregate by the end of the session.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I couldn&#8217;t conceive of this!&#8221; exclaimed the doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve only given you a hint. We are a conquered race.
+The iron hand of Fate is on us. We can only wait for the
+shadows to deepen into night. President Grant appears
+to be a babe in the woods. Schuyler Colfax, the Vice-president,
+and Belknap, the Secretary of War, are in the
+saddle in Washington. I hear things are happening
+there that are quite interesting. Besides, Congress now
+can give little relief. The real lawmaking power in
+America is the State Legislature. The State lawmaker
+enters into the holy of holies of our daily life. Once
+more we are a sovereign State&mdash;a sovereign negro
+State.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I fear my mission is futile,&#8221; said the doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s ridiculous&mdash;I&#8217;ll call for you to-night and take you
+to hear Lynch, our Lieutenant-Governor. He is a remarkable
+man. Our negro Supreme Court Judge will preside&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Uncle Aleck, who had suddenly spied Dr. Cameron,
+broke in with a laughing welcome:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I &#8217;clar ter goodness, Dr. Cammun, I didn&#8217;t know you
+wuz here, sah. I sho&#8217; glad ter see you. I axes yer ter
+come across de street ter my room; I got sumfin&#8217; pow&#8217;ful
+pertickler ter say ter you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor followed Aleck out of the hall and across
+the street to his room in a little boarding-house. His door
+was locked, and the windows darkened by blinds. Instead
+of opening the blinds he lighted a lamp.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ob cose, Dr. Cammun, you say nuffin &#8217;bout what I
+gwine tell you?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not, Aleck.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The room was full of drygoods boxes. The space under
+the bed was packed, and they were piled to the ceiling
+around the walls.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, what&#8217;s all this, Aleck?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The member from Ulster chuckled:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dr. Cammun, yu&#8217;se been er pow&#8217;ful frien&#8217; ter me&mdash;gimme
+medicine lots er times, en I hain&#8217;t nebber paid
+you nuttin&#8217;. I&#8217;se sho&#8217; come inter de kingdom now, en I
+wants ter pay my respects ter you, sah. Des look ober
+dat paper, en mark what you wants, en I hab &#8217;em sont
+home fur you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The member from Ulster handed his physician a
+printed list of more than five hundred articles of merchandise.
+The doctor read it over with amazement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t understand it, Aleck. Do you own a store?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Na-sah, but we git all we wants fum mos&#8217; eny ob &#8217;em.
+Dem&#8217;s &#8216;sundries,&#8217; sah, dat de Gubment gibs de members.
+We des orda what we needs. No trouble &#8217;tall, sah. De
+men what got de goods come roun&#8217; en beg us ter take &#8217;em.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor smiled in spite of the tragedy back of the
+joke.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let&#8217;s see some of the goods, Aleck&mdash;are they first
+class?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah; de bes&#8217; goin&#8217;. I show you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He pulled out a number of boxes and bundles, exhibiting
+carpets, door mats, hassocks, dog collars, cow bells,
+oilcloths, velvets, mosquito nets, damask, Irish linen,
+billiard outfits, towels, blankets, flannels, quilts, women&#8217;s
+hoods, hats, ribbons, pins, needles, scissors, dumb bells,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span>
+skates, crape skirt braids, tooth brushes, face powder,
+hooks and eyes, skirts, bustles, chignons, garters, artificial
+busts, chemises, parasols, watches, jewellery, diamond earrings,
+ivory-handled knives and forks, pistols and
+guns, and a Webster&#8217;s Dictionary.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Got lots mo&#8217; in dem boxes nailed up dar&mdash;yessah, hit&#8217;s
+no use er lettin&#8217; good tings go by yer when you kin des put
+out yer han&#8217; en stop &#8217;em! Some er de members ordered
+horses en carriages, but I tuk er par er fine mules wid
+harness en two buggies an er wagin. Dey &#8217;roun at de
+libry stable, sah.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor thanked Aleck for his friendly feeling, but
+told him it was, of course, impossible for him at this time,
+being only a taxpayer and neither a voter nor a member
+of the Legislature, to share in his supply of &#8220;sundries.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He went to the warehouse that night with his friend to
+hear Lynch, wondering if his mind were capable of receiving
+another shock.</p>
+<p>This meeting had been called to indorse the candidacy,
+for Justice of the Supreme Court, of Napoleon Whipper,
+the Leader of the House, the notorious negro thief and
+gambler, and of William Pitt Moses, an ex-convict, his
+confederate in crime. They had been unanimously chosen
+for the positions by a secret caucus of the ninety-four
+negro members of the House. This addition to the Court,
+with the negro already a member, would give a majority
+to the black man on the last Tribunal of Appeal.</p>
+<p>The few white men of the party who had any sense of
+decency were in open revolt at this atrocity. But their
+influence was on the wane. The carpet-bagger shaped
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span>
+the first Convention and got the first plums of office.
+Now the negro was in the saddle, and he meant to stay.
+There were not enough white men in the Legislature to
+force a roll-call on a division of the House. This meeting
+was an open defiance of all pale-faces inside or outside
+party lines.</p>
+<p>Every inch of space in the big cotton warehouse was
+jammed&mdash;a black living cloud, pungent and piercing.</p>
+<p>The distinguished Lieutenant-Governor, Silas Lynch,
+had not yet arrived, but the negro Justice of the Supreme
+Court, Pinchback, was in his seat as the presiding officer.</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron watched the movements of the black
+judge, already notorious for the sale of his opinions, with
+a sense of sickening horror. This man was but yesterday
+a slave, his father a medicine man in an African jungle
+who decided the guilt or innocence of the accused by the
+test of administering poison. If the poison killed the man,
+he was guilty; if he survived, he was innocent. For
+four thousand years his land had stood a solid bulwark
+of unbroken barbarism. Out of its darkness he had
+been thrust upon the seat of judgment of the laws of the
+proudest and highest type of man evolved in time. It
+seemed a hideous dream.</p>
+<p>His thoughts were interrupted by a shout. It came
+spontaneous and tremendous in its genuine feeling. The
+magnificent figure of Lynch, their idol, appeared walking
+down the aisle escorted by the little scallawag who was the
+Governor.</p>
+<p>He took his seat on the platform with the easy assurance
+of conscious power. His broad shoulders, superb
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span>
+head, and gleaming jungle eyes held every man in the
+audience before he had spoken a word.</p>
+<p>In the first masterful tones of his voice the doctor&#8217;s
+keen intelligence caught the ring of his savage metal and
+felt the shock of his powerful personality&mdash;a personality
+which had thrown to the winds every mask, whose sole
+aim of life was sensual, whose only fears were of physical
+pain and death, who could worship a snake and sacrifice a
+human being.</p>
+<p>His playful introduction showed him a child of Mystery,
+moved by Voices and inspired by a Fetish. His face
+was full of good humour, and his whole figure rippled with
+sleek animal vivacity. For the moment, life was a
+comedy and a masquerade teeming with whims, fancies,
+ecstasies and superstitions.</p>
+<p>He held the surging crowd in the hollow of his hand.
+They yelled, laughed, howled, or wept as he willed.</p>
+<p>Now he painted in burning words the imaginary horrors
+of slavery until the tears rolled down his cheeks and
+he wept at the sound of his own voice. Every dusky
+hearer burst into tears and moans.</p>
+<p>He stopped, suddenly brushed the tears from his eyes,
+sprang to the edge of the platform, threw both arms above
+his head and shouted:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hosannah to the Lord God Almighty for Emancipation!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Instantly five thousand negroes, as one man, were on
+their feet, shouting and screaming. Their shouts rose
+in unison, swelled into a thunder peal, and died away as
+one voice.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span></p>
+<p>Dead silence followed, and every eye was again riveted
+on Lynch. For two hours the doctor sat transfixed,
+listening and watching him sway the vast audience with
+hypnotic power.</p>
+<p>There was not one note of hesitation or of doubt. It
+was the challenge of race against race to mortal combat.
+His closing words again swept every negro from his seat
+and melted every voice into a single frenzied shout:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Within five years,&#8221; he cried, &#8220;the intelligence and the
+wealth of this mighty State will be transferred to the
+negro race. Lift up your heads. The world is yours.
+Take it. Here and now I serve notice on every white
+man who breathes that I am as good as he is. I demand,
+and I am going to have, the privilege of going to see him
+in his house or his hotel, eating with him and sleeping
+with him, and when I see fit, to take his daughter in
+marriage!&#8221;</p>
+<p>As the doctor emerged from the stifling crowd with his
+friend, he drew a deep breath of fresh air, took from his
+pocket his conservative memorial, picked it into little
+bits, and scattered them along the street as he walked in
+silence back to his hotel.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IX_AT_LOVER_S_LEAP' id='IX_AT_LOVER_S_LEAP'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>At Lover&#8217;s Leap</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>In spite of the pitiful collapse of old Stoneman under
+his stroke of paralysis, his children still saw the unconquered
+soul shining in his colourless eyes. They
+had both been on the point of confessing their love
+affairs to him and joining in the inevitable struggle when
+he was stricken. They knew only too well that he would
+not consent to a dual alliance with the Camerons under the
+conditions of fierce hatreds and violence into which the
+State had drifted. They were too high-minded to consider
+a violation of his wishes while thus helpless, with his
+strange eyes following them about in childlike eagerness.
+His weakness was mightier than his iron will.</p>
+<p>So, for eighteen months, while he slowly groped out of
+mental twilight, each had waited&mdash;Elsie with a tender
+faith struggling with despair, and Phil in a torture of
+uncertainty and fear.</p>
+<p>In the meantime, the young Northerner had become as
+radical in his sympathies with the Southern people as his
+father had ever been against them. This power of assimilation
+has always been a mark of Southern genius.
+The sight of the Black Hand on their throats now roused
+his righteous indignation. The patience with which they
+endured was to him amazing. The Southerner he had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span>
+found to be the last man on earth to become a revolutionist.
+All his traits were against it. His genius for command,
+the deep sense of duty and honour, his hospitality, his
+deathless love of home, his supreme constancy and sense
+of civic unity, all combined to make him ultraconservative.
+He began now to see that it was reverence for
+authority as expressed in the Constitution under which
+slavery was established which made Secession inevitable.</p>
+<p>Besides, the laziness and incapacity of the negro had
+been more than he could endure. With no ties of tradition
+or habits of life to bind him, he simply refused to
+tolerate them. In this feeling Elsie had grown early to
+sympathize. She discharged Aunt Cindy for feeding her
+children from the kitchen, and brought a cook and house
+girl from the North, while Phil would employ only white
+men in any capacity.</p>
+<p>In the desolation of negro rule the Cameron farm had
+become worthless. The taxes had more than absorbed
+the income, and the place was only kept from execution
+by the indomitable energy of Mrs. Cameron, who made
+the hotel pay enough to carry the interest on a mortgage
+which was increasing from season to season.</p>
+<p>The doctor&#8217;s practice was with him a divine calling.
+He never sent bills to his patients. They paid something
+if they had it. Now they had nothing.</p>
+<p>Ben&#8217;s law practice was large for his age and experience,
+but his clients had no money.</p>
+<p>While the Camerons were growing each day poorer,
+Phil was becoming rich. His genius, skill, and enterprise
+had been quick to see the possibilities of the waterpower.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span>
+The old Eagle cotton mills had been burned
+during the war. Phil organized the Eagle &amp; Ph&oelig;nix
+Company, interested Northern capitalists, bought the
+falls, and erected two great mills, the dim hum of whose
+spindles added a new note to the river&#8217;s music. Eager,
+swift, modest, his head full of ideas, his heart full of faith,
+he had pressed forward to success.</p>
+<p>As the old Commoner&#8217;s mind began to clear, and his
+recovery was sure, Phil determined to press his suit for
+Margaret&#8217;s hand to an issue.</p>
+<p>Ben had dropped a hint of an interview of the Rev.
+Hugh McAlpin with Dr. Cameron, which had thrown
+Phil into a cold sweat.</p>
+<p>He hurried to the hotel to ask Margaret to drive with
+him that afternoon. He would stop at Lover&#8217;s Leap and
+settle the question.</p>
+<p>He met the preacher, just emerging from the door, calm,
+handsome, serious, and Margaret by his side. The
+dark-haired beauty seemed strangely serene. What
+could it mean? His heart was in his throat. Was he
+too late? Wreathed in smiles when the preacher had
+gone, the girl&#8217;s face was a riddle he could not solve.</p>
+<p>To his joy, she consented to go.</p>
+<p>As he left in his trim little buggy for the hotel, he
+stooped and kissed Elsie, whispering:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Make an offering on the altar of love for me, Sis!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re too slow. The prayers of all the saints will
+not save you!&#8221; she replied with a laugh, throwing him a
+kiss as he disappeared in the dust.</p>
+<p>As they drove through the great forest on the cliffs
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>
+overlooking the river, the Southern world seemed lit with
+new splendours to-day for the Northerner. His heart beat
+with a strange courage. The odour of the pines, their
+sighing music, the subtone of the falls below, the subtle
+life-giving perfume of the fullness of summer, the splendour
+of the sun gleaming through the deep foliage, and the
+sweet sensuous air, all seemed incarnate in the calm,
+lovely face and gracious figure beside him.</p>
+<p>They took their seat on the old rustic built against the
+beech, which was the last tree on the brink of the cliff.
+A hundred feet below flowed the river, rippling softly
+along a narrow strip of sand which its current had thrown
+against the rocks. The ledge of towering granite formed
+a cave eighty feet in depth at the water&#8217;s edge. From
+this projecting wall, tradition said a young Indian princess
+once leaped with her lover, fleeing from the wrath of a
+cruel father who had separated them. The cave below
+was inaccessible from above, being reached by a narrow
+footpath along the river&#8217;s edge when entered a mile
+downstream.</p>
+<p>The view from the seat, under the beech, was one of marvellous
+beauty. For miles the broad river rolled in calm,
+shining glory seaward, its banks fringed with cane and
+trees, while fields of corn and cotton spread in waving green
+toward the distant hills and blue mountains of the west.</p>
+<p>Every tree on this cliff was cut with the initials of generations
+of lovers from Piedmont.</p>
+<p>They sat in silence for awhile, Margaret idly playing
+with a flower she had picked by the pathway, and Phil
+watching her devoutly.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>
+The Southern sun had tinged her face the reddish
+warm hue of ripened fruit, doubly radiant by contrast
+with her wealth of dark-brown hair. The lustrous glance
+of her eyes, half veiled by their long lashes, and the graceful,
+careless pose of her stately figure held him enraptured.
+Her dress of airy, azure blue, so becoming to her dark
+beauty, gave Phil the impression of eiderdown feathers
+of some rare bird of the tropics. He felt that if he dared
+to touch her she might lift her wings and sail over the
+cliff into the sky and forget to light again at his side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am going to ask a very bold and impertinent question,
+Miss Margaret,&#8221; Phil said with resolution. &#8220;May
+I?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret smiled incredulously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll risk your impertinence, and decide as to its boldness.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tell me, please, what that preacher said to you to-day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret looked away, unable to suppress the merriment
+that played about her eyes and mouth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you never breathe it to a soul if I do?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Honest Injun, here on the sacred altar of the princess?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;On my honour.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll tell you,&#8221; she said, biting her lips to keep
+back a laugh. &#8220;Mr. McAlpin is very handsome and eloquent.
+I have always thought him the best preacher we
+have ever had in Piedmont&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know,&#8221; Phil interrupted with a frown.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span>
+&#8220;He is very pious,&#8221; she went on evenly, &#8220;and seeks
+Divine guidance in prayer in everything he does. He
+called this morning to see me, and I was playing for him in
+the little music-room off the parlour, when he suddenly
+closed the door and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Miss Margaret, I am going to take, this morning, the
+most important step of my life&mdash;&mdash;&#8217;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course I hadn&#8217;t the remotest idea what he
+meant&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Will you join me in a word of prayer?&#8217; he asked, and
+knelt right down. I was accustomed, of course, to kneel
+with him in family worship at his pastoral calls, and so
+from habit I slipped to one knee by the piano stool, wondering
+what on earth he was about. When he prayed
+with fervour for the Lord to bless the great love with
+which he hoped to hallow my life&mdash;I giggled. It broke
+up the meeting. He rose and asked me to marry him. I
+told him the Lord hadn&#8217;t revealed it to me&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil seized her hand and held it firmly. The smile
+died from the girl&#8217;s face, her hand trembled, and the rose
+tint on her cheeks flamed to scarlet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Margaret, my own, I love you,&#8221; he cried with joy.
+&#8220;You could have told that story only to the one man
+whom you love&mdash;is it not true?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I&#8217;ve loved you always,&#8221; said the low, sweet
+voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Always?&#8221; asked Phil through a tear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Before I saw you, when they told me you were as Ben&#8217;s
+twin brother, my heart began to sing at the sound of your
+name&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Call it,&#8221; he whispered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phil, my sweetheart!&#8221; she said with a laugh.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How tender and homelike the music of your voice!
+The world has never seen the match of your gracious
+Southern womanhood! Snowbound in the North, I
+dreamed, as a child, of this world of eternal sunshine.
+And now every memory and dream I&#8217;ve found in you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you won&#8217;t be disappointed in my simple ideal
+that finds its all within a home?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No. I love the old-fashioned dream of the South.
+Maybe you have enchanted me, but I love these green
+hills and mountains, these rivers musical with cascade
+and fall, these solemn forests&mdash;but for the Black Curse,
+the South would be to-day the garden of the world!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you will help our people lift this curse?&#8221; softly
+asked the girl, nestling closer to his side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dearest, thy people shall be mine! Had I a
+thousand wrongs to cherish, I&#8217;d forgive them all for your
+sake. I&#8217;ll help you build here a new South on all that&#8217;s
+good and noble in the old, until its dead fields blossom
+again, its harbours bristle with ships, and the hum of a
+thousand industries make music in every valley. I&#8217;d
+sing to you in burning verse if I could, but it is not my
+way. I have been awkward and slow in love, perhaps&mdash;but
+I&#8217;ll be swift in your service. I dream to make dead
+stones and wood live and breathe for you, of victories
+wrung from Nature that are yours. My poems will be
+deeds, my flowers the hard-earned wealth that has a soul,
+which I shall lay at your feet.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who said my lover was dumb?&#8221; she sighed, with a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>
+twinkle in her shining eyes. &#8220;You must introduce me
+to your father soon. He must like me as my father does
+you, or our dream can never come true.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A pain gripped Phil&#8217;s heart, but he answered bravely:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will. He can&#8217;t help loving you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They stood on the rustic seat to carve their initials
+within a circle, high on the old beechwood book of love.</p>
+<p>&#8220;May I write it out in full&mdash;Margaret Cameron&mdash;Philip
+Stoneman?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No&mdash;only the initials now&mdash;the full names when
+you&#8217;ve seen my father and I&#8217;ve seen yours. Jeannie
+Campbell and Henry Lenoir were once written thus in
+full, and many a lover has looked at that circle and prayed
+for happiness like theirs. You can see there a new one cut
+over the old, the bark has filled, and written on the fresh
+page is &#8216;Marion Lenoir&#8217; with the blank below for her
+lover&#8217;s name.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil looked at the freshly cut circle and laughed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wonder if Marion or her mother did that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Her mother, of course.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wonder whose will be the lucky name some day
+within it?&#8221; said Phil musingly as he finished his own.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='X_A_NIGHT_HAWK' id='X_A_NIGHT_HAWK'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Night Hawk</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When the old Commoner&#8217;s private physician
+had gone and his mind had fully cleared, he
+would sit for hours in the sunshine of the vine-clad
+porch, asking Elsie of the village, its life, and its people.
+He smiled good-naturedly at her eager sympathy
+for their sufferings as at the enthusiasm of a child who
+could not understand. He had come possessed by a
+great idea&mdash;events must submit to it. Her assurance
+that the poverty and losses of the people were far in excess
+of the worst they had known during the war was too
+absurd even to secure his attention.</p>
+<p>He had refused to know any of the people, ignoring the
+existence of Elsie&#8217;s callers. But he had fallen in love
+with Marion from the moment he had seen her. The
+cold eye of the old fox hunter kindled with the fire of his
+forgotten youth at the sight of this beautiful girl seated
+on the glistening back of the mare she had saved from
+death.</p>
+<p>As she rode through the village every boy lifted his hat
+as to passing royalty, and no one, old or young, could
+allow her to pass without a cry of admiration. Her exquisite
+figure had developed into the full tropic splendour
+of Southern girlhood.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span></p>
+<p>She had rejected three proposals from ardent lovers, on
+one of whom her mother had quite set her heart. A great
+fear had grown in Mrs. Lenoir&#8217;s mind lest she were in
+love with Ben Cameron. She slipped her arm around
+her one day and timidly asked her.</p>
+<p>A faint flush tinged Marion&#8217;s face up to the roots of her
+delicate blonde hair, and she answered with a quick
+laugh:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mamma, how silly you are! You know I&#8217;ve always
+been in love with Ben&mdash;since I can first remember. I
+know he is in love with Elsie Stoneman. I am too young,
+the world too beautiful, and life too sweet to grieve over
+my first baby love. I expect to dance with him at his
+wedding, then meet my fate and build my own nest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Old Stoneman begged that she come every day to see
+him. He never tired praising her to Elsie. As she
+walked gracefully up to the house one afternoon, holding
+Hugh by the hand, he said to Elsie:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Next to you, my dear, she is the most charming
+creature I ever saw. Her tenderness for everything that
+needs help touches the heart of an old lame man in a very
+soft spot.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve never seen any one who could resist her,&#8221; Elsie
+answered. &#8220;Her gloves may be worn, her feet clad in old
+shoes, yet she is always neat, graceful, dainty, and serene.
+No wonder her mother worships her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Sam Ross, her simple friend, had stopped at the gate,
+and looked over into the lawn as if afraid to come in.</p>
+<p>When Marion saw Sam, she turned back to the gate to
+invite him in. The keeper of the poor, a vicious-looking
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span>
+negro, suddenly confronted him, and he shrank in terror
+close to the girl&#8217;s side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What you doin&#8217; here, sah?&#8221; the black keeper railed.
+&#8220;Ain&#8217;t I done tole you &#8217;bout runnin&#8217; away?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You let him alone,&#8221; Marion cried.</p>
+<p>The negro pushed her roughly from his side and knocked
+Sam down. The girl screamed for help, and old Stoneman
+hobbled down the steps, following Elsie.</p>
+<p>When they reached the gate, Marion was bending over
+the prostrate form.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my, my, I believe he&#8217;s killed him!&#8221; she wailed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Run for the doctor, sonny, quick,&#8221; Stoneman said
+to Hugh. The boy darted away and brought Dr.
+Cameron.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How dare you strike that man, you devil?&#8221; thundered
+the old statesman.</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Case I tole &#8217;im ter stay home en do de wuk I put
+&#8217;im at, en he all de time runnin&#8217; off here ter git somfin&#8217;
+ter eat. I gwine frail de life outen &#8217;im, ef he doan min&#8217;
+me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you make tracks back to the Poorhouse. I&#8217;ll
+attend to this man, and I&#8217;ll have you arrested for this
+before night,&#8221; said Stoneman, with a scowl.</p>
+<p>The black keeper laughed as he left.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not &#8217;less you&#8217;se er bigger man dan Gubner Silas
+Lynch, you won&#8217;t!&#8221;</p>
+<p>When Dr. Cameron had restored Sam, and dressed the
+wound on his head where he had struck a stone in falling,
+Stoneman insisted that the boy be put to bed.</p>
+<p>Turning to Dr. Cameron, he asked:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Why should they put a brute like this in charge of the
+poor?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s a large question, sir, at this time,&#8221; said the
+doctor politely, &#8220;and now that you have asked it, I have
+some things I&#8217;ve been longing for an opportunity to say
+to you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Be seated, sir,&#8221; the old Commoner answered, &#8220;I shall
+be glad to hear them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie&#8217;s heart leaped with joy over the possible outcome
+of this appeal, and she left the room with a smile for the
+doctor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;First, allow me,&#8221; said the Southerner pleasantly, &#8220;to
+express my sorrow at your long illness, and my pleasure
+at seeing you so well. Your children have won the love
+of all our people and have had our deepest sympathy in
+your illness.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman muttered an inaudible reply, and the doctor
+went on:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your question brings up, at once, the problem of the
+misery and degradation into which our country has sunk
+under negro rule&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman smiled coldly and interrupted:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course, you understand my position in politics,
+Doctor Cameron&mdash;I am a Radical Republican.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So much the better,&#8221; was the response. &#8220;I have been
+longing for months to get your ear. Your word will be all
+the more powerful if raised in our behalf. The negro is
+the master of our State, county, city, and town governments.
+Every school, college, hospital, asylum, and
+poorhouse is his prey. What you have seen is but a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span>
+sample. Negro insolence grows beyond endurance. Their
+women are taught to insult their old mistresses and mock
+their poverty as they pass in their old, faded dresses.
+Yesterday a black driver struck a white child of six with
+his whip, and when the mother protested, she was arrested
+by a negro policeman, taken before a negro magistrate,
+and fined $10 for &#8216;insulting a freedman.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman frowned: &#8220;Such things must be very exceptional.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are everyday occurrences and cease to excite
+comment. Lynch, the Lieutenant-Governor, who has
+bought a summer home here, is urging this campaign of
+insult with deliberate purpose&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man shook his head. &#8220;I can&#8217;t think the
+Lieutenant-Governor guilty of such petty villainy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Our school commissioner,&#8221; the doctor continued, &#8220;is
+a negro who can neither read nor write. The black grand
+jury last week discharged a negro for stealing cattle and
+indicted the owner for false imprisonment. No such rate
+of taxation was ever imposed on a civilized people. A
+tithe of it cost Great Britain her colonies. There are
+5,000 homes in this county&mdash;2,900 of them are advertised
+for sale by the sheriff to meet his tax bills. This house
+will be sold next court day&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman looked up sharply. &#8220;Sold for taxes?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; with the farm which has always been Mrs.
+Lenoir&#8217;s support. In part her loss came from the cotton
+tax. Congress, in addition to the desolation of war, and
+the ruin of black rule, has wrung from the cotton farmers
+of the South a tax of $67,000,000. Every dollar of this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span>
+money bears the stain of the blood of starving people.
+They are ready to give up, or to spring some desperate
+scheme of resistance&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The old man lifted his massive head and his great jaws
+came together with a snap:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Resistance to the authority of the National Government?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; resistance to the travesty of government and
+the mockery of civilization under which we are being
+throttled! The bayonet is now in the hands of a brutal
+negro militia. The tyranny of military martinets was
+child&#8217;s play to this. As I answered your call this morning
+I was stopped and turned back in the street by the drill of
+a company of negroes under the command of a vicious
+scoundrel named Gus who was my former slave. He is
+the captain of this company. Eighty thousand armed
+negro troops, answerable to no authority save the savage
+instincts of their officers, terrorize the State. Every white
+company has been disarmed and disbanded by our scallawag
+Governor. I tell you, sir, we are walking on the crust
+of a volcano&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Old Stoneman scowled as the doctor rose and walked
+nervously to the window and back.</p>
+<p>&#8220;An appeal from you to the conscience of the North
+might save us,&#8221; he went on eagerly. &#8220;Black hordes of
+former slaves, with the intelligence of children and the
+instincts of savages, armed with modern rifles, parade
+daily in front of their unarmed former masters. A white
+man has no right a negro need respect. The children of
+the breed of men who speak the tongue of Burns and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span>
+Shakespeare, Drake and Raleigh, have been disarmed and
+made subject to the black spawn of an African jungle!
+Can human flesh endure it? When Goth and Vandal barbarians
+overran Rome, the negro was the slave of the
+Roman Empire. The savages of the North blew out the
+light of Ancient Civilization, but in all the dark ages
+which followed they never dreamed the leprous infamy of
+raising a black slave to rule over his former master!
+No people in the history of the world have ever before
+been so basely betrayed, so wantonly humiliated and
+degraded!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman lifted his head in amazement at the burst of
+passionate intensity with which the Southerner poured
+out his protest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;For a Russian to rule a Pole,&#8221; he went on, &#8220;a Turk to
+rule a Greek, or an Austrian to dominate an Italian is
+hard enough, but for a thick-lipped, flat-nosed, spindle-shanked
+negro, exuding his nauseating animal odour, to
+shout in derision over the hearths and homes of white men
+and women is an atrocity too monstrous for belief. Our
+people are yet dazed by its horror. My God! when they
+realize its meaning, whose arm will be strong enough to
+hold them?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should think the South was sufficiently amused with
+resistance to authority,&#8221; interrupted Stoneman.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Even so. Yet there is a moral force at the bottom of
+every living race of men. The sense of right, the feeling
+of racial destiny&mdash;these are unconquered and unconquerable
+forces. Every man in South Carolina to-day is glad
+that slavery is dead. The war was not too great a price
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>
+for us to pay for the lifting of its curse. And now to ask a
+Southerner to be the slave of a slave&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And yet, Doctor,&#8221; said Stoneman coolly, &#8220;manhood
+suffrage is the one eternal thing fixed in the nature of
+Democracy. It is inevitable.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;At the price of racial life? Never!&#8221; said the Southerner,
+with fiery emphasis. &#8220;This Republic is great, not
+by reason of the amount of dirt we possess, the size of our
+census roll, or our voting register&mdash;we are great because
+of the genius of the race of pioneer white freemen who
+settled this continent, dared the might of kings, and made
+a wilderness the home of Freedom. Our future depends
+on the purity of this racial stock. The grant of the ballot
+to these millions of semi-savages and the riot of debauchery
+which has followed are crimes against human progress.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yet may we not train him?&#8221; asked Stoneman.</p>
+<p>&#8220;To a point, yes, and then sink to his level if you walk
+as his equal in physical contact with him. His race is not
+an infant; it is a degenerate&mdash;older than yours in time.
+At last we are face to face with the man whom slavery concealed
+with its rags. Suffrage is but the new paper
+cloak with which the Demagogue has sought to hide the
+issue. Can we assimilate the negro? The very question
+is pollution. In Hayti no white man can own land.
+Black dukes and marquises drive over them and swear at
+them for getting under their wheels. Is civilization a
+patent cloak with which law-tinkers can wrap an animal
+and make him a king?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But the negro must be protected by the ballot,&#8221; protested
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span>
+the statesman. &#8220;The humblest man must have
+the opportunity to rise. The real issue is Democracy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The issue, sir, is Civilization! Not whether a negro
+shall be protected, but whether Society is worth saving
+from barbarism.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The statesman can educate,&#8221; put in the Commoner.</p>
+<p>The doctor cleared his throat with a quick little nervous
+cough he was in the habit of giving when deeply
+moved.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Education, sir, is the development of that which <i>is</i>.
+Since the dawn of history the negro has owned the continent
+of Africa&mdash;rich beyond the dream of poet&#8217;s fancy,
+crunching acres of diamonds beneath his bare black feet.
+Yet he never picked one up from the dust until a white
+man showed to him its glittering light. His land swarmed
+with powerful and docile animals, yet he never dreamed
+a harness, cart, or sled. A hunter by necessity, he never
+made an axe, spear, or arrowhead worth preserving beyond
+the moment of its use. He lived as an ox, content to
+graze for an hour. In a land of stone and timber he never
+sawed a foot of lumber, carved a block, or built a house
+save of broken sticks and mud. With league on league
+of ocean strand and miles of inland seas, for four thousand
+years he watched their surface ripple under the wind,
+heard the thunder of the surf on his beach, the howl of the
+storm over his head, gazed on the dim blue horizon calling
+him to worlds that lie beyond, and yet he never dreamed a
+sail! He lived as his fathers lived&mdash;stole his food, worked
+his wife, sold his children, ate his brother, content to
+drink, sing, dance, and sport as the ape!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;And this creature, half child, half animal, the sport of
+impulse, whim, and conceit, &#8216;pleased with a rattle, tickled
+with a straw,&#8217; a being who, left to his will, roams at night
+and sleeps in the day, whose speech knows no word of
+love, whose passions, once aroused, are as the fury of the
+tiger&mdash;they have set this thing to rule over the Southern
+people&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor sprang to his feet, his face livid, his eyes
+blazing with emotion. &#8220;Merciful God&mdash;it surpasses
+human belief!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He sank exhausted in his chair, and, extending his hand
+in an eloquent gesture, continued:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Surely, surely, sir, the people of the North are not
+mad? We can yet appeal to the conscience and the brain
+of our brethren of a common race?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman was silent as if stunned. Deep down in his
+strange soul he was drunk with the joy of a triumphant
+vengeance he had carried locked in the depths of his
+being, yet the intensity of this man&#8217;s suffering for a
+people&#8217;s cause surprised and distressed him as all individual
+pain hurt him.</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron rose, stung by his silence and the consciousness
+of the hostility with which Stoneman had
+wrapped himself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pardon my apparent rudeness, Doctor,&#8221; he said at
+length, extending his hand. &#8220;The violence of your feeling
+stunned me for the moment. I&#8217;m obliged to you for
+speaking. I like a plain-spoken man. I am sorry to
+learn of the stupidity of the former military commandant
+in this town&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;My personal wrongs, sir,&#8221; the doctor broke in, &#8220;are
+nothing!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry, too, about these individual cases of suffering.
+They are the necessary incidents of a great upheaval.
+But may it not all come out right in the end?
+After the Dark Ages, day broke at last. We have the
+printing press, railroad, and telegraph&mdash;a revolution in
+human affairs. We may do in years what it took ages to
+do in the past. May not the black man speedily emerge?
+Who knows? An appeal to the North will be a waste of
+breath. This experiment is going to be made. It is
+written in the book of Fate. But I like you. Come to see
+me again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron left with a heavy heart. He had grown a
+great hope in this long-wished-for appeal to Stoneman.
+It had come to his ears that the old man, who had dwelt
+as one dead in their village, was a power.</p>
+<p>It was ten o&#8217;clock before the doctor walked slowly back
+to the hotel. As he passed the armoury of the black
+militia, they were still drilling under the command of Gus.
+The windows were open, through which came the steady
+tramp of heavy feet and the cry of &#8220;Hep! Hep! Hep!&#8221;
+from the Captain&#8217;s thick cracked lips. The full-dress
+officer&#8217;s uniform, with its gold epaulets, yellow stripes, and
+glistening sword, only accentuated the coarse bestiality of
+Gus. His huge jaws seemed to hide completely the gold
+braid on his collar.</p>
+<p>The doctor watched, with a shudder, his black bloated
+face covered with perspiration and the huge hand gripping
+his sword.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></p>
+<p>They suddenly halted in double ranks and Gus yelled:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Odah, arms!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The butts of their rifles crashed to the floor with precision,
+and they were allowed to break ranks for a brief
+rest.</p>
+<p>They sang &#8220;John Brown&#8217;s Body,&#8221; and as its echoes
+died away a big negro swung his rifle in a circle over his
+head, shouting:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Here&#8217;s your regulator for white trash! En dey&#8217;s
+nine hundred ob &#8217;em in dis county!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yas, Lawd!&#8221; howled another.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We got &#8217;em down now en we keep &#8217;em dar, chile!&#8221;
+bawled another.</p>
+<p>The doctor passed on slowly to the hotel. The night
+was dark, the streets were without lights under their present
+rulers, and the stars were hidden with swift-flying
+clouds which threatened a storm. As he passed under the
+boughs of an oak in front of his house, a voice above him
+whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;A message for you, sir.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Had the wings of a spirit suddenly brushed his cheek, he
+would not have been more startled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who are you?&#8221; he asked, with a slight tremor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A Night Hawk of the Invisible Empire, with a message
+from the Grand Dragon of the Realm,&#8221; was the low
+answer, as he thrust a note in the doctor&#8217;s hand. &#8220;I
+will wait for your answer.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor fumbled to his office on the corner of the
+lawn, struck a match, and read:</p>
+<p>&#8220;A great Scotch-Irish leader of the South from Memphis
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span>
+is here to-night and wishes to see you. If you will
+meet General Forrest, I will bring him to the hotel in fifteen
+minutes. Burn this. Ben.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor walked quickly back to the spot where he
+had heard the voice, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll see him with pleasure.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The invisible messenger wheeled his horse, and in a
+moment the echo of his muffled hoofs had died away in
+the distance.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XI_THE_BEAT_OF_A_SPARROW_S_WING' id='XI_THE_BEAT_OF_A_SPARROW_S_WING'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Beat of a Sparrow&#8217;s Wing</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Dr. Cameron&#8217;s appeal had left the old Commoner
+unshaken in his idea. There could be but
+one side to any question with such a man, and
+that was his side. He would stand by his own men, too.
+He believed in his own forces. The bayonet was essential
+to his revolutionary programme&mdash;hence the hand which
+held it could do no wrong. Wrongs were accidents which
+might occur under any system.</p>
+<p>Yet in no way did he display the strange contradictions
+of his character so plainly as in his inability to hate the
+individual who stood for the idea he was fighting with
+maniac fury. He liked Dr. Cameron instantly, though he
+had come to do a crime that would send him into beggared
+exile.</p>
+<p>Individual suffering he could not endure. In this the
+doctor&#8217;s appeal had startling results.</p>
+<p>He sent for Mrs. Lenoir and Marion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I understand, Madam,&#8221; he said gravely, &#8220;that your
+house and farm are to be sold for taxes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, sir; we&#8217;ve given it up this time. Nothing can be
+done,&#8221; was the hopeless answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Would you consider an offer of twenty dollars an acre?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nobody would be fool enough to offer it. You can
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span>
+buy all the land in the county for a dollar an acre. It&#8217;s
+not worth anything.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I disagree with you,&#8221; said Stoneman cheerfully. &#8220;I
+am looking far ahead. I would like to make an experiment
+here with Pennsylvania methods on this land.
+I&#8217;ll give you ten thousand dollars cash for your five
+hundred acres if you will take it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t mean it?&#8221; Mrs. Lenoir gasped, choking
+back the tears.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly. You can at once return to your home.
+I&#8217;ll take another house, and invest your money for you in
+good Northern securities.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The mother burst into sobs, unable to speak, while
+Marion threw her arms impulsively around the old man&#8217;s
+neck and kissed him.</p>
+<p>His cold eyes were warmed with the first tear they had
+shed in years.</p>
+<p>He moved the next day to the Ross estate, which he
+rented, had Sam brought back to the home of his childhood
+in charge of a good-natured white attendant, and
+installed in one of the little cottages on the lawn. He
+ordered Lynch to arrest the keeper of the poor, and hold
+him on a charge of assault with intent to kill, awaiting the
+action of the Grand Jury. The Lieutenant-Governor
+received this order with sullen anger&mdash;yet he saw to its
+execution. He was not quite ready for a break with the
+man who had made him.</p>
+<p>Astonished at his new humour, Phil and Elsie hastened
+to confess to him their love affairs and ask his approval
+of their choice. His reply was cautious, yet he did not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span>
+refuse his consent. He advised them to wait a few
+months, allow him time to know the young people, and
+get his bearings on the conditions of Southern society.
+His mood of tenderness was a startling revelation to them
+of the depth and intensity of his love.</p>
+<p>When Mrs. Lenoir returned with Marion to her vine-clad
+home, she spent the first day of perfect joy since the
+death of her lover husband. The deed had not yet been
+made of the transfer of the farm, but it was only a question
+of legal formality. She was to receive the money in
+the form of interest-bearing securities and deliver the
+title on the following morning.</p>
+<p>Arm in arm, mother and daughter visited again each
+hallowed spot, with the sweet sense of ownership. The
+place was in perfect order. Its flowers were in gorgeous
+bloom, its walks clean and neat, the fences painted, and
+the gates swung on new hinges.</p>
+<p>They stood with their arms about one another, watching
+the sun sink behind the mountains, with tears of gratitude
+and hope stirring their souls.</p>
+<p>Ben Cameron strode through the gate, and they hurried
+to meet him with cries of joy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just dropped in a minute to see if you are snug for the
+night,&#8221; he said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course, snug and so happy we&#8217;ve been hugging one
+another for hours,&#8221; said the mother. &#8220;Oh, Ben, the
+clouds have lifted at last!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Has Aunt Cindy come yet?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, but she&#8217;ll be here in the morning to get breakfast.
+We don&#8217;t want anything to eat,&#8221; she answered.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll come out when I&#8217;m through my business to-night,
+and sleep in the house to keep you company.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense,&#8221; said the mother, &#8220;we couldn&#8217;t think of
+putting you to the trouble. We&#8217;ve spent many a night
+here alone.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But not in the past two years,&#8221; he said with a frown.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;re not afraid,&#8221; Marion said with a smile. &#8220;Besides,
+we&#8217;d keep you awake all night with our laughter and
+foolishness, rummaging through the house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;d better let me,&#8221; Ben protested.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said the mother, &#8220;we&#8217;ll be happier to-night alone,
+with only God&#8217;s eye to see how perfectly silly we can be.
+Come and take supper with us to-morrow night. Bring
+Elsie and her guitar&mdash;I don&#8217;t like the banjo&mdash;and we&#8217;ll
+have a little love feast with music in the moonlight.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, do that,&#8221; cried Marion. &#8220;I know we owe this
+good luck to her. I want to tell her how much I love her
+for it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, if you insist on staying alone,&#8221; said Ben reluctantly,
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll bring Miss Elsie to-morrow, but I don&#8217;t
+like your being here without Aunt Cindy to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, we&#8217;re all right!&#8221; laughed Marion, &#8220;but what I
+want to know is what you are doing out so late every
+night since you&#8217;ve come home, and where you were gone
+for the past week?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Important business,&#8221; he answered soberly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Business&mdash;I expect!&#8221; she cried. &#8220;Look here, Ben
+Cameron, have you another girl somewhere you&#8217;re flirting
+with?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; he answered slowly, coming closer and his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span>
+voice dropping to a whisper, &#8220;and her name is
+Death.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, Ben!&#8221; Marion gasped, placing her trembling
+hand unconsciously on his arm, a faint flush mantling her
+cheek and leaving it white.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221; asked the mother in low
+tones.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing that I can explain. I only wish to warn you
+both never to ask me such questions before any one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Forgive me,&#8221; said Marion, with a tremor. &#8220;I didn&#8217;t
+think it serious.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben pressed the little warm hand, watching her mouth
+quiver with a smile that was half a sigh, as he answered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know I&#8217;d trust either of you with my life, but I
+can&#8217;t be too careful.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll remember, Sir Knight,&#8221; said the mother.
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t forget, then, to-morrow&mdash;and spend the evening
+with us. I wish I had one of Marion&#8217;s new dresses done.
+Poor child, she has never had a decent dress in her life
+before. You know I never look at my pretty baby
+grown to such a beautiful womanhood without hearing
+Henry say over and over again&mdash;&#8216;Beauty is a sign of
+the soul&mdash;the body is the soul!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;ve my doubts about your improving her with
+a fine dress,&#8221; he replied thoughtfully. &#8220;I don&#8217;t believe
+that more beautifully dressed women ever walked the
+earth than our girls of the South who came out of the war
+clad in the pathos of poverty, smiling bravely through
+the shadows, bearing themselves as queens though they
+wore the dress of the shepherdess.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m almost tempted to kiss you for that, as you once
+took advantage of me!&#8221; said Marion, with enthusiasm.</p>
+<p>The moon had risen and a whippoorwill was chanting
+his weird song on the lawn as Ben left them leaning on the
+gate.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>It was past midnight before they finished the last
+touches in restoring their nest to its old homelike appearance
+and sat down happy and tired in the room in which
+Marion was born, brooding and dreaming and talking
+over the future.</p>
+<p>The mother was hanging on the words of her daughter,
+all the baffled love of the dead poet husband, her griefs
+and poverty consumed in the glowing joy of new hopes.
+Her love for this child was now a triumphant passion,
+which had melted her own being into the object of worship,
+until the soul of the daughter was superimposed on
+the mother&#8217;s as the magnetized by the magnetizer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you&#8217;ll never keep a secret from me, dear?&#8221; she
+asked Marion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll tell me all your love affairs?&#8221; she asked softly,
+as she drew the shining blonde head down on her shoulder.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Faithfully.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know I&#8217;ve been afraid sometimes you were keeping
+something back from me, deep down in your heart&mdash;and
+I&#8217;m jealous. You didn&#8217;t refuse Henry Grier because
+you loved Ben Cameron&mdash;now, did you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The little head lay still before she answered:</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-302.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 394px; height: 582px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 394px;'>
+MAE MARSH AS THE VICTIM OF RECONSTRUCTION.<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span></div>
+<p>&#8220;How many times must I tell you, Silly, that I&#8217;ve
+loved Ben since I can remember, that I will always love
+him, and when I meet my fate, at last, I shall boast to my
+children of my sweet girl romance with the Hero
+of Piedmont, and they shall laugh and cry with me
+over&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that?&#8221; whispered the mother, leaping to her
+feet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I heard nothing,&#8221; Marion answered, listening.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought I heard footsteps on the porch.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Maybe it&#8217;s Ben, who decided to come anyhow,&#8221; said
+the girl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But he&#8217;d knock!&#8221; whispered the mother.</p>
+<p>The door flew open with a crash, and four black brutes
+leaped into the room, Gus in the lead, with a revolver in
+his hand, his yellow teeth grinning through his thick lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Scream now, an&#8217; I blow yer brains out,&#8221; he growled.</p>
+<p>Blanched with horror, the mother sprang before Marion
+with a shivering cry:</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you want?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not you,&#8221; said Gus, closing the blinds and handing a
+rope to another brute. &#8220;Tie de ole one ter de bedpost.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The mother screamed. A blow from a black fist in her
+mouth, and the rope was tied.</p>
+<p>With the strength of despair she tore at the cords, half
+rising to her feet, while with mortal anguish she gasped:</p>
+<p>&#8220;For God&#8217;s sake, spare my baby! Do as you will with
+me, and kill me&mdash;do not touch her!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Again the huge fist swept her to the floor.</p>
+<p>Marion staggered against the wall, her face white, her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span>
+delicate lips trembling with the chill of a fear colder than
+death.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We have no money&mdash;the deed has not been delivered,&#8221;
+she pleaded, a sudden glimmer of hope flashing
+in her blue eyes.</p>
+<p>Gus stepped closer, with an ugly leer, his flat nose dilated,
+his sinister bead eyes wide apart, gleaming apelike,
+as he laughed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We ain&#8217;t atter money!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl uttered a cry, long, tremulous, heart-rending,
+piteous.</p>
+<p>A single tiger spring, and the black claws of the beast
+sank into the soft white throat and she was still.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='XII_AT_THE_DAWN_OF_DAY' id='XII_AT_THE_DAWN_OF_DAY'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>At the Dawn of Day</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was three o&#8217;clock before Marion regained consciousness,
+crawled to her mother, and crouched in
+dumb convulsions in her arms.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What can we do, my darling?&#8221; the mother asked at last.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Die&mdash;thank God, we have the strength left!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, my love,&#8221; was the faint answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No one must ever know. We will hide quickly every
+trace of crime. They will think we strolled to Lover&#8217;s
+Leap and fell over the cliff, and my name will always
+be sweet and clean&mdash;you understand&mdash;come, we must
+hurry&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>With swift hands, her blue eyes shining with a strange
+light, the girl removed the shreds of torn clothes, bathed,
+and put on the dress of spotless white she wore the night
+Ben Cameron kissed her and called her a heroine.</p>
+<p>The mother cleaned and swept the room, piled the torn
+clothes and cord in the fireplace and burned them, dressed
+herself as if for a walk, softly closed the doors, and hurried
+with her daughter along the old pathway through the
+moonlit woods.</p>
+<p>At the edge of the forest she stopped and looked back
+tenderly at the little home shining amid the roses, caught
+their faint perfume and faltered:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Let&#8217;s go back a minute&mdash;I want to see his room, and
+kiss Henry&#8217;s picture again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, we are going to him now&mdash;I hear him calling us
+in the mists above the cliff,&#8221; said the girl&mdash;&#8220;come, we
+must hurry. We might go mad and fail!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Down the dim cathedral aisles of the woods, hallowed
+by tender memories, through which the poet lover and
+father had taught them to walk with reverent feet and
+without fear, they fled to the old meeting-place of Love.</p>
+<p>On the brink of the precipice, the mother trembled,
+paused, drew back, and gasped:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you not afraid, my dear?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; death is sweet now,&#8221; said the girl. &#8220;I fear only
+the pity of those we love.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is there no other way? We might go among strangers,&#8221;
+pleaded the mother.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We could not escape ourselves! The thought of life is
+torture. Only those who hate me could wish that I live.
+The grave will be soft and cool, the light of day a burning
+shame.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come back to the seat a moment&mdash;let me tell you my
+love again,&#8221; urged the mother. &#8220;Life still is dear while
+I hold your hand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>As they sat in brooding anguish, floating up from the
+river valley came the music of a banjo in a negro cabin,
+mingled with vulgar shout and song and dance. A verse
+of the ribald senseless lay of the player echoed above the
+banjo&#8217;s pert refrain:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Chicken in de bread tray, pickin&#8217; up dough;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Granny, will your dog bite? No, chile, no!&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span></div>
+<p>The mother shivered and drew Marion closer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear! oh, dear! has it come to this&mdash;all my
+hopes of your beautiful life!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl lifted her head and kissed the quivering
+lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;With what loving wonder we saw you grow,&#8221; she
+sighed, &#8220;from a tottering babe on to the hour we watched
+the mystic light of maidenhood dawn in your blue eyes&mdash;and
+all to end in this hideous, leprous shame. No&mdash;No!
+I will not have it! It&#8217;s only a horrible dream! God is
+not dead!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The young mother sank to her knees and buried her
+face in Marion&#8217;s lap in a hopeless paroxysm of grief.</p>
+<p>The girl bent, kissed the curling hair, and smoothed it
+with her soft hand.</p>
+<p>A sparrow chirped in the tree above, a wren twittered
+in a bush, and down on the river&#8217;s bank a mocking-bird
+softly waked his mate with a note of thrilling sweetness.
+&#8220;The morning is coming, dearest; we must go,&#8221; said
+Marion. &#8220;This shame I can never forget, nor will the
+world forget. Death is the only way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>They walked to the brink, and the mother&#8217;s arms stole
+round the girl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my baby, my beautiful darling, life of my life,
+heart of my heart, soul of my soul!&#8221;</p>
+<p>They stood for a moment, as if listening to the music of
+the falls, looking out over the valley faintly outlining itself
+in the dawn. The first far-away streaks of blue
+light on the mountain ranges, defining distance, slowly
+appeared. A fresh motionless day brooded over the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span>
+world as the amorous stir of the spirit of morning rose
+from the moist earth of the fields below.</p>
+<p>A bright star still shone in the sky, and the face of the
+mother gazed on it intently. Did the Woman-spirit, the
+burning focus of the fiercest desire to live and will, catch
+in this supreme moment the star&#8217;s Divine speech before
+which all human passions sink into silence? Perhaps,
+for she smiled. The daughter answered with a smile;
+and then, hand in hand, they stepped from the cliff into
+the mists and on through the opal gates of death.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span></p>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>Book IV&mdash;The Ku Klux Klan</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='I_THE_HUNT_FOR_THE_ANIMAL' id='I_THE_HUNT_FOR_THE_ANIMAL'></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Hunt for the Animal</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Aunt Cindy came at seven o&#8217;clock to get breakfast,
+and finding the house closed and no one at
+home, supposed Mrs. Lenoir and Marion had
+remained at the Cameron House for the night. She sat
+down on the steps, waited grumblingly an hour, and then
+hurried to the hotel to scold her former mistress for keeping
+her out so long.</p>
+<p>Accustomed to enter familiarly, she thrust her head
+into the dining-room, where the family were at breakfast
+with a solitary guest, muttering the speech she had been
+rehearsing on the way:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I lak ter know what sort er way dis&mdash;whar&#8217;s Miss
+Jeannie?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben leaped to his feet.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t she at home?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Been waitin&#8217; dar two hours.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Great God!&#8221; he groaned, springing through the door
+and rushing to saddle the mare. As he left he called to
+his father: &#8220;Let no one know till I return.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At the house he could find no trace of the crime he had
+suspected. Every room was in perfect order. He
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span>
+searched the yard carefully and under the cedar by the
+window he saw the barefoot tracks of a negro. The
+white man was never born who could make that track.
+The enormous heel projected backward, and in the hollow
+of the instep where the dirt would scarcely be touched by
+an Aryan was the deep wide mark of the African&#8217;s flat
+foot. He carefully measured it, brought from an outhouse
+a box, and fastened it over the spot.</p>
+<p>It might have been an ordinary chicken thief, of
+course. He could not tell, but it was a fact of big import.
+A sudden hope flashed through his mind that they might
+have risen with the sun and strolled to their favourite
+haunt at Lover&#8217;s Leap.</p>
+<p>In two minutes he was there, gazing with hard-set eyes
+at Marion&#8217;s hat and handkerchief lying on the shelving rock.</p>
+<p>The mare bent her glistening neck, touched the hat
+with her nose, lifted her head, dilated her delicate nostrils,
+looked out over the cliff with her great soft half-human
+eyes and whinnied gently.</p>
+<p>Ben leaped to the ground, picked up the handkerchief,
+and looked at the initials, &#8220;M. L.,&#8221; worked in the corner.
+He knew what lay on the river&#8217;s brink below as well as if
+he stood over the dead bodies. He kissed the letters of
+her name, crushed the handkerchief in his locked hands,
+and cried:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Lord God, give me strength for the service of
+my people!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He hurriedly examined the ground, amazed to find no
+trace of a struggle or crime. Could it be possible they
+had ventured too near the brink and fallen over?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span></p>
+<p>He hurried to report to his father his discoveries, instructed
+his mother and Margaret to keep the servants
+quiet until the truth was known, and the two men returned
+along the river&#8217;s brink to the foot of the cliff.</p>
+<p>They found the bodies close to the water&#8217;s edge,
+Marion had been killed instantly. Her fair blonde head
+lay in a crimson circle sharply defined in the white sand.
+But the mother was still warm with life. She had scarcely
+ceased to breathe. In one last desperate throb of love the
+trembling soul had dragged the dying body to the girl&#8217;s
+side, and she had died with her head resting on the fair
+round neck as though she had kissed her and fallen asleep.</p>
+<p>Father and son clasped hands and stood for a moment
+with uncovered heads. The doctor said at length:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go to the coroner at once and see that he summons
+the jury <i>you</i> select and hand to him. Bring them immediately.
+I will examine the bodies before they arrive.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben took the negro coroner into his office alone, turned
+the key, told him of the discovery, and handed him the
+list of the jury.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll hatter see Mr. Lynch fust, sah,&#8221; he answered.</p>
+<p>Ben placed his hand on his hip pocket and said coldly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Put your cross-mark on those forms I&#8217;ve made out
+there for you, go with me immediately, and summon these
+men. If you dare put a negro on this jury, or open your
+mouth as to what has occurred in this room, I&#8217;ll kill
+you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The negro tremblingly did as he was commanded.</p>
+<p>The coroner&#8217;s jury reported that the mother and daughter
+had been killed by accidentally failing over the cliff.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span></p>
+<p>In all the throng of grief-stricken friends who came to
+the little cottage that day, but two men knew the hell-lit
+secret beneath the tragedy.</p>
+<p>When the bodies reached the home, Doctor Cameron
+placed Mrs. Cameron and Margaret outside to receive
+visitors and prevent any one from disturbing him. He
+took Ben into the room and locked the doors.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My boy, I wish you to witness an experiment.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He drew from its case a powerful microscope of French
+make.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What on earth are you going to do, sir?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor&#8217;s brilliant eyes flashed with a mystic light
+as he replied:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Find the fiend who did this crime&mdash;and then we will
+hang him on a gallows so high that all men from the rivers
+to ends of the earth shall see and feel and know the might
+of an unconquerable race of men.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But there&#8217;s no trace of him here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall see,&#8221; said the doctor, adjusting his instrument.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I believe that a microscope of sufficient power will
+reveal on the retina of these dead eyes the image of this
+devil as if etched there by fire. The experiment has been
+made successfully in France. No word or deed of man
+is lost. A German scholar has a memory so wonderful
+he can repeat whole volumes of Latin, German, and
+French without an error. A Russian officer has been
+known to repeat the roll-call of any regiment by reading
+it twice. Psychologists hold that nothing is lost from the
+memory of man. Impressions remain in the brain like
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span>
+words written on paper in invisible ink. So I believe of
+images in the eye if we can trace them early enough. If
+no impression were made subsequently on the mother&#8217;s
+eye by the light of day, I believe the fire-etched record of
+this crime can yet be traced.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben watched him with breathless interest.</p>
+<p>He first examined Marion&#8217;s eyes. But in the cold
+azure blue of their pure depths he could find nothing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s as I feared with the child,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I can see
+nothing. It is on the mother I rely. In the splendour of
+life, at thirty-seven she was the full-blown perfection
+of womanhood, with every vital force at its highest tension&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He looked long and patiently into the dead mother&#8217;s
+eye, rose and wiped the perspiration from his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is it, sir?&#8221; asked Ben.</p>
+<p>Without reply, as if in a trance, he returned to the
+microscope and again rose with the little, quick, nervous
+cough he gave only in the greatest excitement, and whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look now and tell me what you see.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben looked and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can see nothing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your powers of vision are not trained as mine,&#8221; replied
+the doctor, resuming his place at the instrument.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you see?&#8221; asked the younger man, bending
+nervously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The bestial figure of a negro&mdash;his huge black hand
+plainly defined&mdash;the upper part of the face is dim, as if
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span>
+obscured by a gray mist of dawn&mdash;but the massive jaws
+and lips are clear&mdash;merciful God&mdash;yes&mdash;it&#8217;s Gus!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor leaped to his feet livid with excitement.</p>
+<p>Ben bent again, looked long and eagerly, but could see
+nothing.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid the image is in your eye, sir, not the
+mother&#8217;s,&#8221; said Ben sadly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s possible, of course,&#8221; said the doctor, &#8220;yet I
+don&#8217;t believe it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve thought of the same scoundrel and tried blood
+hounds on that track, but for some reason they couldn&#8217;t
+follow it. I suspected him from the first, and especially
+since learning that he left for Columbia on the early morning
+train on pretended official business.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;m not mistaken,&#8221; insisted the doctor, trembling
+with excitement. &#8220;Now do as I tell you. Find
+when he returns. Capture him, bind, gag, and carry him
+to your meeting-place under the cliff, and let me know.&#8221;</p>
+<p>On the afternoon of the funeral, two days later, Ben
+received a cypher telegram from the conductor on the
+train telling him that Gus was on the evening mail due at
+Piedmont at nine o&#8217;clock.</p>
+<p>The papers had been filled with accounts of the accident,
+and an enormous crowd from the county and many
+admirers of the fiery lyrics of the poet father had come
+from distant parts to honour his name. All business was
+suspended, and the entire white population of the village
+followed the bodies to their last resting-place.</p>
+<p>As the crowds returned to their homes, no notice was
+taken of a dozen men on horseback who rode out of town
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span>
+by different ways about dusk. At eight o&#8217;clock they met
+in the woods near the first little flag-station located on
+McAllister&#8217;s farm four miles from Piedmont, where a
+buggy awaited them. Two men of powerful build, who
+were strangers in the county, alighted from the buggy and
+walked along the track to board the train at the station
+three miles beyond and confer with the conductor.</p>
+<p>The men, who gathered in the woods, dismounted, removed
+their saddles, and from the folds of the blankets
+took a white disguise for horse and man. In a moment it
+was fitted on each horse, with buckles at the throat,
+breast, and tail, and the saddles replaced. The white robe
+for the man was made in the form of an ulster overcoat
+with cape, the skirt extending to the top of the shoes.
+From the red belt at the waist were swung two revolvers
+which had been concealed in their pockets. On each man&#8217;s
+breast was a scarlet circle within which shone a white
+cross. The same scarlet circle and cross appeared on the
+horse&#8217;s breast, while on his flanks flamed the three red
+mystic letters, K. K. K. Each man wore a white cap,
+from the edges of which fell a piece of cloth extending to
+the shoulders. Beneath the visor was an opening for the
+eyes and lower down one for the mouth. On the front of
+the caps of two of the men appeared the red wings of a
+hawk as the ensign of rank. From the top of each cap
+rose eighteen inches high a single spike held erect by a
+twisted wire. The disguises for man and horse were made
+of cheap unbleached domestic and weighed less than three
+pounds. They were easily folded within a blanket and
+kept under the saddle in a crowd without discovery. It
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span>
+required less than two minutes to remove the saddles,
+place the disguises, and remount.</p>
+<p>At the signal of a whistle, the men and horses arrayed in
+white and scarlet swung into double-file cavalry formation
+and stood awaiting orders. The moon was now
+shining brightly, and its light shimmering on the silent
+horses and men with their tall spiked caps made a picture
+such as the world had not seen since the Knights of the
+Middle Ages rode on their Holy Crusades.</p>
+<p>As the train neared the flag-station, which was dark
+and unattended, the conductor approached Gus, leaned
+over, and said: &#8220;I&#8217;ve just gotten a message from the sheriff
+telling me to warn you to get off at this station and slip
+into town. There&#8217;s a crowd at the depot there waiting
+for you and they mean trouble.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Gus trembled and whispered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Den fur Gawd&#8217;s sake lemme off here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The two men who got on at the station below stepped
+out before the negro, and as he alighted from the car,
+seized, tripped, and threw him to the ground. The engineer
+blew a sharp signal, and the train pulled on.</p>
+<p>In a minute Gus was bound and gagged.</p>
+<p>One of the men drew a whistle and blew twice. A
+single tremulous call like the cry of an owl answered.
+The swift beat of horses&#8217; feet followed, and four white-and-scarlet
+clansmen swept in a circle around the
+group.</p>
+<p>One of the strangers turned to the horseman with red-winged
+ensign on his cap, saluted, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Here&#8217;s your man, Night Hawk.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Thanks, gentlemen,&#8221; was the answer. &#8220;Let us know
+when we can be of service to your county.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The strangers sprang into their buggy and disappeared
+toward the North Carolina line.</p>
+<p>The clansmen blindfolded the negro, placed him on a
+horse, tied his legs securely, and his arms behind him to
+the ring in the saddle.</p>
+<p>The Night Hawk blew his whistle four sharp blasts, and
+his pickets galloped from their positions and joined him.</p>
+<p>Again the signal rang, and his men wheeled with the
+precision of trained cavalrymen into column formation
+three abreast, and rode toward Piedmont, the single black
+figure tied and gagged in the centre of the white-and-scarlet
+squadron.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='II_THE_FIERY_CROSS' id='II_THE_FIERY_CROSS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Fiery Cross</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The clansmen with their prisoner skirted the
+village and halted in the woods on the river
+bank. The Night Hawk signalled for single file,
+and in a few minutes they stood against the cliff under
+Lover&#8217;s Leap and saluted their chief, who sat his horse,
+awaiting their arrival.</p>
+<p>Pickets were placed in each direction on the narrow
+path by which the spot was approached, and one was sent
+to stand guard on the shelving rock above.</p>
+<p>Through the narrow crooked entrance they led Gus into
+the cave which had been the rendezvous of the Piedmont
+Den of the Clan since its formation. The meeting-place
+was a grand hall eighty feet deep, fifty feet wide, and more
+than forty feet in height, which had been carved out of the
+stone by the swift current of the river in ages past when
+its waters stood at a higher level.</p>
+<p>To-night it was lighted by candles placed on the ledges
+of the walls. In the centre, on a fallen boulder, sat the
+Grand Cyclops of the Den, the presiding officer of the
+township, his rank marked by scarlet stripes on the white-cloth
+spike of his cap. Around him stood twenty or more
+clansmen in their uniform, completely disguised. One
+among them wore a yellow sash, trimmed in gold, about
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span>
+his waist, and on his breast two yellow circles with red
+crosses interlapping, denoting his rank to be the Grand
+Dragon of the Realm, or Commander-in-Chief of the
+State.</p>
+<p>The Cyclops rose from his seat:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let the Grand Turk remove his prisoner for a moment
+and place him in charge of the Grand Sentinel at the door,
+until summoned.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The officer disappeared with Gus, and the Cyclops
+continued:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Chaplain will open our Council with prayer.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Solemnly every white-shrouded figure knelt on the
+ground, and the voice of the Rev. Hugh McAlpin, trembling
+with feeling, echoed through the cave:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Lord God of our Fathers, as in times past thy children,
+fleeing from the oppressor, found refuge beneath the earth
+until once more the sun of righteousness rose, so are we
+met to-night. As we wrestle with the powers of darkness
+now strangling our life, give to our souls to endure as
+seeing the invisible, and to our right arms the strength of
+the martyred dead of our people. Have mercy on the
+poor, the weak, the innocent and defenceless, and deliver
+us from the body of the Black Death. In a land of light
+and beauty and love our women are prisoners of danger
+and fear. While the heathen walks his native heath unharmed
+and unafraid, in this fair Christian Southland
+our sisters, wives, and daughters dare not stroll at twilight
+through the streets or step beyond the highway at noon.
+The terror of the twilight deepens with the darkness, and
+the stoutest heart grows sick with fear for the red message
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span>
+the morning bringeth. Forgive our sins&mdash;they are many&mdash;but
+hide not thy face from us, O God, for thou art our
+refuge!&#8221;</p>
+<p>As the last echoes of the prayer lingered and died in the
+vaulted roof, the clansmen rose and stood a moment in
+silence.</p>
+<p>Again the voice of the Cyclops broke the stillness:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Brethren, we are met to-night at the request of the
+Grand Dragon of the Realm, who has honoured us with
+his presence, to constitute a High Court for the trial of a
+case involving life. Are the Night Hawks ready to submit
+their evidence?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are ready,&#8221; came the answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then let the Grand Scribe read the objects of the
+Order on which your authority rests.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Scribe opened his Book of Record, &#8220;<i>The Prescript
+of the Order of the Invisible Empire</i>,&#8221; and solemnly read:</p>
+<p>&#8220;To the lovers of law and order, peace and justice, and
+to the shades of the venerated dead, greeting:</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is an institution of Chivalry, Humanity, Mercy,
+and Patriotism: embodying in its genius and principles all
+that is chivalric in conduct, noble in sentiment, generous
+in manhood, and patriotic in purpose: its particular
+objects being,</p>
+<p>&#8220;First: To protect the weak, the innocent, and the
+defenceless from the indignities, wrongs, and outrages of
+the lawless, the violent, and the brutal; to relieve the injured
+and the oppressed: to succour the suffering and unfortunate,
+and especially the widows and the orphans of
+Confederate Soldiers.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Second: To protect and defend the Constitution of
+the United States, and all the laws passed in conformity
+thereto, and to protect the States and the people thereof
+from all invasion from any source whatever.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Third: To aid and assist in the execution of all Constitutional
+laws, and to protect the people from unlawful
+seizure, and from trial except by their peers in conformity
+to the laws of the land.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Night Hawks will produce their evidence,&#8221; said
+the Cyclops, &#8220;and the Grand Monk will conduct the case
+of the people against the negro Augustus Cæsar, the
+former slave of Dr. Richard Cameron.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dr. Cameron advanced and removed his cap. His
+snow-white hair and beard, ruddy face and dark-brown
+brilliant eyes made a strange picture in its weird surroundings,
+like an ancient alchemist ready to conduct
+some daring experiment in the problem of life.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am here, brethren,&#8221; he said, &#8220;to accuse the black
+brute about to appear of the crime of assault on a daughter
+of the South&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>A murmur of thrilling surprise and horror swept the
+crowd of white-and-scarlet figures as with one common
+impulse they moved closer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;His feet have been measured and they exactly tally
+with the negro tracks found under the window of the Lenoir
+cottage. His flight to Columbia and return on the
+publication of their deaths as an accident is a confirmation
+of our case. I will not relate to you the scientific experiment
+which first fixed my suspicion of this man&#8217;s
+guilt. My witness could not confirm it, and it might not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span>
+be to you credible. But this negro is peculiarly sensitive
+to hypnotic influence. I propose to put him under this
+power to-night before you, and, if he is guilty, I can make
+him tell his confederates, describe and rehearse the crime
+itself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Night Hawks led Gus before Doctor Cameron,
+untied his hands, removed the gag, and slipped the blindfold
+from his head.</p>
+<p>Under the doctor&#8217;s rigid gaze the negro&#8217;s knees struck
+together, and he collapsed into complete hypnosis, merely
+lifting his huge paws lamely as if to ward a blow.</p>
+<p>They seated him on the boulder from which the Cyclops
+rose, and Gus stared about the cave and grinned as if in a
+dream seeing nothing.</p>
+<p>The doctor recalled to him the day of the crime, and he
+began to talk to his three confederates, describing his plot
+in detail, now and then pausing and breaking into a
+fiendish laugh.</p>
+<p>Old McAllister, who had three lovely daughters at
+home, threw off his cap, sank to his knees, and buried his
+face in his hands, while a dozen of the white figures
+crowded closer, nervously gripping the revolvers which
+hung from their red belts.</p>
+<p>Doctor Cameron pushed them back and lifted his hand
+in warning.</p>
+<p>The negro began to live the crime with fearful realism&mdash;the
+journey past the hotel to make sure the victims had
+gone to their home; the visit to Aunt Cindy&#8217;s cabin to
+find her there; lying in the field waiting for the last light
+of the village to go out; gloating with vulgar exultation
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span>
+over their plot, and planning other crimes to follow its
+success&mdash;how they crept along the shadows of the hedgerow
+of the lawn to avoid the moonlight, stood under the
+cedar, and through the open windows watched the mother
+and daughter laughing and talking within&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Min&#8217; what I tells you now&mdash;Tie de ole one, when I
+gib you de rope,&#8221; said Gus in a whisper.</p>
+<p>&#8220;My God!&#8221; cried the agonized voice of the figure with
+the double cross&mdash;&#8220;that&#8217;s what the piece of burnt rope in
+the fireplace meant!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Doctor Cameron again lifted his hand for silence.</p>
+<p>Now they burst into the room, and with the light of hell
+in his beady, yellow-splotched eyes, Gus gripped his imaginary
+revolver and growled:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Scream, an&#8217; I blow yer brains out!&#8221;</p>
+<p>In spite of Doctor Cameron&#8217;s warning, the white-robed
+figures jostled and pressed closer&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>Gus rose to his feet and started across the cave as if to
+spring on the shivering figure of the girl, the clansmen
+with muttered groans, sobs, and curses falling back as he
+advanced. He still wore his full Captain&#8217;s uniform, its
+heavy epaulets flashing their gold in the unearthly light,
+his beastly jaws half covering the gold braid on the collar.
+His thick lips were drawn upward in an ugly leer and his
+sinister bead eyes gleamed like a gorilla&#8217;s. A single
+fierce leap and the black claws clutched the air slowly as
+if sinking into the soft white throat.</p>
+<p>Strong men began to cry like children.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stop him! Stop him!&#8221; screamed a clansman, springing
+on the negro and grinding his heel into his big thick
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span>
+neck. A dozen more were on him in a moment, kicking,
+stamping, cursing, and crying like madmen.</p>
+<p>Doctor Cameron leaped forward and beat them off:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Men! Men! You must not kill him in this condition!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Some of the white figures had fallen prostrate on the
+ground, sobbing in a frenzy of uncontrollable emotion.
+Some were leaning against the walls, their faces buried
+in their arms.</p>
+<p>Again old McAllister was on his knees crying over and
+over again:</p>
+<p>&#8220;God have mercy on my people!&#8221;</p>
+<p>When at length quiet was restored, the negro was revived,
+and again bound, blindfolded, gagged, and thrown
+to the ground before the Grand Cyclops.</p>
+<p>A sudden inspiration flashed in Doctor Cameron&#8217;s eyes.
+Turning to the figure with yellow sash and double cross
+he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Issue your orders and despatch your courier to-night
+with the old Scottish rite of the Fiery Cross. It will send
+a thrill of inspiration to every clansman in the hills.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good&mdash;prepare it quickly!&#8221; was the answer.</p>
+<p>Doctor Cameron opened his medicine case, drew the
+silver drinking-cover from a flask, and passed out of the
+cave to the dark circle of blood still shining in the sand by
+the water&#8217;s edge. He knelt and filled the cup half full of
+the crimson grains, and dipped it into the river. From a
+saddle he took the lightwood torch, returned within, and
+placed the cup on the boulder on which the Grand
+Cyclops had sat. He loosed the bundle of lightwood,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span>
+took two pieces, tied them into the form of a cross, and
+laid it beside a lighted candle near the silver cup.</p>
+<p>The silent figures watched his every movement. He
+lifted the cup and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Brethren, I hold in my hand the water of your river
+bearing the red stain of the life of a Southern woman, a
+priceless sacrifice on the altar of outraged civilization.
+Hear the message of your chief.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The tall figure with the yellow sash and double cross
+stepped before the strange altar, while the white forms
+of the clansmen gathered about him in a circle. He
+lifted his cap, and laid it on the boulder, and his men
+gazed on the flushed face of Ben Cameron, the Grand
+Dragon of the Realm.</p>
+<p>He stood for a moment silent, erect, a smouldering
+fierceness in his eyes, something cruel and yet magnetic in
+his alert bearing.</p>
+<p>He looked on the prostrate negro lying in his uniform
+at his feet, seized the cross, lighted the three upper ends
+and held it blazing in his hand, while, in a voice full of the
+fires of feeling, he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Men of the South, the time for words has passed, the
+hour for action has struck. The Grand Turk will execute
+this negro to-night and fling his body on the lawn of the
+black Lieutenant-Governor of the State.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The Grand Turk bowed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ask for the swiftest messenger of this Den who can
+ride till dawn.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The man whom Doctor Cameron had already chosen
+stepped forward:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Carry my summons to the Grand Titan of the adjoining
+province in North Carolina whom you will find at
+Hambright. Tell him the story of this crime and what
+you have seen and heard. Ask him to report to me here
+the second night from this, at eleven o&#8217;clock, with six
+Grand Giants from his adjoining counties, each accompanied
+by two hundred picked men. In olden times
+when the Chieftain of our people summoned the clan on
+an errand of life and death, the Fiery Cross, extinguished
+in sacrificial blood, was sent by swift courier from village
+to village. This call was never made in vain, nor will it
+be to-night, in the new world. Here, on this spot made
+holy ground by the blood of those we hold dearer than
+life, I raise the ancient symbol of an unconquered race
+of men&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>High above his head in the darkness of the cave he
+lifted the blazing emblem&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Fiery Cross of old Scotland&#8217;s hills! I quench
+its flames in the sweetest blood that ever stained the
+sands of Time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He dipped its ends in the silver cup, extinguished the
+fire, and handed the charred symbol to the courier, who
+quickly disappeared.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='III_THE_PARTING_OF_THE_WAYS' id='III_THE_PARTING_OF_THE_WAYS'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Parting of the Ways</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The discovery of the Captain of the African
+Guards lying in his full uniform in Lynch&#8217;s
+yard send a thrill of terror to the triumphant
+leagues. Across the breast of the body was pinned a scrap
+of paper on which was written in red ink the letters K.
+K. K. It was the first actual evidence of the existence
+of this dreaded order in Ulster county.</p>
+<p>The First Lieutenant of the Guards assumed command
+and held the full company in their armoury under arms
+day and night. Beneath his door he had found a notice
+which was also nailed on the courthouse. It appeared
+in the Piedmont <i>Eagle</i> and in rapid succession in every
+newspaper not under negro influence in the State. It
+read as follows:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style='margin-right:4em;'>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Headquarters of Realm No 4.</span></p>
+<p style='margin-right:2em;'>&#8221;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dreadful Era, Black Epoch,</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Hideous Hour.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>General Order No. I.</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;The Negro Militia now organized in this State threatens
+the extinction of civilization. They have avowed their purpose
+to make war upon and exterminate the Ku Klux Klan, an
+organization which is now the sole guardian of Society. All
+negroes are hereby given forty-eight hours from the publication
+of this notice in their respective counties to surrender
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span>
+their arms at the courthouse door. Those who refuse must
+take the consequences.</p>
+<p>&#8220;By order of the G. D. of Realm No. 4.</p>
+<p>&#8220;By the Grand Scribe.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+<p>The white people of Piedmont read this notice with a
+thrill of exultant joy. Men walked the streets with an
+erect bearing which said without words:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stand out of the way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>For the first time since the dawn of Black Rule negroes
+began to yield to white men and women the right of way
+on the streets.</p>
+<p>On the day following, the old Commoner sent for Phil.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is the latest news?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The town is in a fever of excitement&mdash;not over the
+discovery in Lynch&#8217;s yard&mdash;but over the blacker rumour
+that Marion and her mother committed suicide to conceal
+an assault by this fiend.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A trumped-up lie,&#8221; said the old man emphatically.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s true, sir. I&#8217;ll take Doctor Cameron&#8217;s word for
+it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have just come from the Camerons?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let it be your last visit. The Camerons are on the
+road to the gallows, father and son. Lynch informs me
+that the murder committed last night, and the insolent
+notice nailed on the courthouse door, could have come
+only from their brain. They are the hereditary leaders of
+these people. They alone would have the audacity to
+fling this crime into the teeth of the world and threaten
+worse. We are face to face with Southern barbarism.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span>
+Every man now to his own standard! The house of
+Stoneman can have no part with midnight assassins.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nor with black barbarians, father. It is a question of
+who possesses the right of life and death over the citizen,
+the organized virtue of the community, or its organized
+crime. You have mistaken for death the patience of a
+generous people. We call ourselves the champions of
+liberty. Yet for less than they have suffered, kings have
+lost their heads and empires perished before the wrath of
+freemen.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My boy, this is not a question for argument between
+us,&#8221; said the father with stern emphasis. &#8220;This conspiracy
+of terror and assassination threatens to shatter
+my work to atoms. The election on which turns the destiny
+of Congress, and the success or failure of my life, is
+but a few weeks away. Unless this foul conspiracy is
+crushed, I am ruined, and the Nation falls again beneath
+the heel of a slaveholders&#8217; oligarchy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your nightmare of a slaveholders&#8217; oligarchy does not
+disturb me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;At least you will have the decency to break your
+affair with Margaret Cameron pending the issue of my
+struggle of life and death with her father and brother?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I will do it for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I warn you, sir,&#8221; Phil cried, with anger, &#8220;that if it
+comes to an issue of race against race, I am a white man.
+The ghastly tragedy of the condition of society here is
+something for which the people of the South are no longer
+responsible&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll take the responsibility!&#8221; growled the old cynic.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t ask me to share it,&#8221; said the younger man
+emphatically.</p>
+<p>The father winced, his lips trembled, and he answered
+brokenly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;My boy, this is the bitterest hour of my life that has
+had little to make it sweet. To hear such words from you
+is more than I can bear. I am an old man now&mdash;my
+sands are nearly run. But two human beings love me,
+and I love but two. On you and your sister I have
+lavished all the treasures of a maimed and strangled soul&mdash;and
+it has come to this! Read the notice which one of
+your friends thrust into the window of my bedroom last
+night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He handed Phil a piece of paper on which was written:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>&#8220;The old club-footed beast who has sneaked into our town,
+pretending to search for health, in reality the leader of the
+infernal Union League, will be given forty-eight hours to
+vacate the house and rid this community of his presence.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p>&#8220;K. K. K.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;Are you an officer of the Union League?&#8221; Phil asked
+in surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am its soul.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How could a Southerner discover this, if your own
+children didn&#8217;t know it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By their spies who have joined the League.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And do the rank and file know the Black Pope at the
+head of the order?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, but high officials do.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Does Lynch?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then he is the scoundrel who placed that note in your
+room. It is a clumsy attempt to forge an order of the
+Klan. The white man does not live in this town capable
+of that act. I know these people.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My boy, you are bewitched by the smiles of a woman
+to deny your own flesh and blood.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, father&mdash;you are possessed by an idea which
+has become an insane mania&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you respect my wishes?&#8221; the old man broke in
+angrily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I will not,&#8221; was the clear answer. Phil turned and
+left the room, and the old man&#8217;s massive head sank on his
+breast in helpless baffled rage and grief.</p>
+<p>He was more successful in his appeal to Elsie. He convinced
+her of the genuineness of the threat against him.
+The brutal reference to his lameness roused the girl&#8217;s soul.
+When the old man, crushed by Phil&#8217;s desertion, broke
+down the last reserve of his strange cold nature, tore his
+wounded heart open to her, cried in agony over his deformity,
+his lameness, and the anguish with which he saw the
+threatened ruin of his life-work, she threw her arms around
+his neck in a flood of tears and cried:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hush, father, I will not desert you. I will never leave
+you, or wed without your blessing. If I find that my lover
+was in any way responsible for this insult, I&#8217;ll tear his
+image out of my heart and never speak his name again!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She wrote a note to Ben, asking him to meet her at
+sundown on horseback at Lover&#8217;s Leap.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span></p>
+<p>Ben was elated at the unexpected request. He was
+hungry for an hour with his sweetheart, whom he had not
+seen save for a moment since the storm of excitement
+broke following the discovery of the crime.</p>
+<p>He hastened through his work of ordering the movement
+of the Klan for the night, and determined to surprise
+Elsie by meeting her in his uniform of a Grand Dragon.</p>
+<p>Secure in her loyalty, he would deliberately thus put his
+life in her hands. Using the water of a brook in the woods
+for a mirror, he adjusted his yellow sash and pushed the
+two revolvers back under the cape out of sight, saying to
+himself with a laugh:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Betray me? Well, if she does, life would not be
+worth the living!&#8221;</p>
+<p>When Elsie had recovered from the first shock of surprise
+at the white horse and rider waiting for her under the
+shadows of the old beech, her surprise gave way to grief
+at the certainty of his guilt, and the greatness of his love
+in thus placing his life without a question in her hands.</p>
+<p>He tied the horses in the woods, and they sat down on
+the rustic.</p>
+<p>He removed his helmet cap, threw back the white cape
+showing the scarlet lining, and the two golden circles with
+their flaming crosses on his breast, with boyish pride.
+The costume was becoming to his slender graceful figure,
+and he knew it.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You see, sweetheart, I hold high rank in the Empire,&#8221;
+he whispered.</p>
+<p>From beneath his cape he drew a long bundle which he
+unrolled. It was a triangular flag of brilliant yellow
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span>
+edged in scarlet. In the centre of the yellow ground was
+the figure of a huge black dragon with fiery red eyes and
+tongue. Around it was a Latin motto worked in scarlet:
+&#8220;<i>quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus</i>&#8221;&mdash;what
+always, what everywhere, what by all has been held to be
+true. &#8220;The battle-flag of the Klan,&#8221; he said; &#8220;the
+standard of the Grand Dragon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie seized his hand and kissed it, unable to speak.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why so serious to-night?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you love me very much?&#8221; she answered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay his
+life at the feet of his beloved,&#8221; he responded tenderly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes; I know&mdash;and that is why you are breaking
+my heart. When first I met you&mdash;it seems now ages and
+ages ago&mdash;I was a vain, self-willed, pert little thing&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s not so. I took you for an angel&mdash;you were one.
+You are one to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now,&#8221; she went on slowly, &#8220;in what I have lived
+through you I have grown into an impassioned, serious,
+self-disciplined, bewildered woman. Your perfect trust to-night
+is the sweetest revelation that can come to a woman&#8217;s
+soul and yet it brings to me unspeakable pain&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;For what?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are guilty of murder.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben&#8217;s figure stiffened.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The judge who pronounces sentence of death on a
+criminal outlawed by civilized society is not usually called
+a murderer, my dear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And by whose authority are you a judge?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;By authority of the sovereign people who created the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334' name='page_334'></a>334</span>
+State of South Carolina. The criminals who claim to be
+our officers are usurpers placed there by the subversion of
+law.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t you give this all up for my sake?&#8221; she pleaded.
+&#8220;Believe me, you are in great danger.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not so great as is the danger of my sister and mother
+and my sweetheart&mdash;it is a man&#8217;s place to face danger,&#8221;
+he gravely answered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This violence can only lead to your ruin and
+shame&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am fighting the battle of a race on whose fate hangs
+the future of the South and the Nation. My ruin and
+shame will be of small account if they are saved,&#8221; was the
+even answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, my dear,&#8221; she pleaded tenderly, &#8220;you know
+that I have weighed the treasures of music and art and
+given them all for one clasp of your hand, one throb of
+your heart against mine. I should call you cruel did I
+not know you are infinitely tender. This is the only
+thing I have ever asked you to do for me&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Desert my people! You must not ask of me this
+infamy, if you love me,&#8221; he cried.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But, listen; this is wrong&mdash;this wild vengeance is a
+crime you are doing, however great the provocation. We
+cannot continue to love one another if you do this. Listen:
+I love you better than father, mother, life, or career&mdash;all
+my dreams I&#8217;ve lost in you. I&#8217;ve lived through
+eternity to-day with my father&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know me guiltless of the vulgar threat against
+him&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and yet you are the leader of desperate men who
+might have done it. As I fought this battle to-day, I&#8217;ve
+lost you, lost myself, and sunk down to the depths of despair,
+and at the end rang the one weak cry of a woman&#8217;s
+heart for her lover! Your frown can darken the brightest
+sky. For your sake I can give up all save the sense of
+right. I&#8217;ll walk by your side in life&mdash;lead you gently and
+tenderly along the way of my dreams if I can, but if you
+go your way, it shall be mine; and I shall still be glad
+because you are there! See how humble I am&mdash;only you
+must not commit crime!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Come, sweetheart, you must not use that word,&#8221; he
+protested, with a touch of wounded pride.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are a conspirator&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am a revolutionist.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are committing murder!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am waging war.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie leaped to her feet in a sudden rush of anger and
+extended her hand:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye. I shall not see you again. I do not
+know you. You are still a stranger to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He held her hand firmly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We must not part in anger,&#8221; he said slowly. &#8220;I have
+grave work to do before the day dawns. We may not see
+each other again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She led her horse to the seat quickly and without waiting
+for his assistance sprang into the saddle.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you not fear my betrayal of your secret?&#8221; she
+asked.</p>
+<p>He rode to her side, bent close, and whispered:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s as safe as if locked in the heart of God.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A little sob caught her voice, yet she said slowly in
+firm tones:</p>
+<p>&#8220;If another crime is committed in this county by your
+Klan, we will never see each other again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He escorted her to the edge of the town without a
+word, pressed her hand in silence, wheeled his horse, and
+disappeared on the road to the North Carolina line.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IV_THE_BANNER_OF_THE_DRAGON' id='IV_THE_BANNER_OF_THE_DRAGON'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Banner of the Dragon</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Ben Cameron rode rapidly to the rendezvous
+of the pickets who were to meet the coming
+squadrons.</p>
+<p>He returned home and ate a hearty meal. As he
+emerged from the dining-room, Phil seized him by the
+arm and led him under the big oak on the lawn:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cameron, old boy, I&#8217;m in a lot of trouble. I&#8217;ve had a
+quarrel with my father, and your sister has broken me all
+up by returning my ring. I want a little excitement to
+ease my nerves. From Elsie&#8217;s incoherent talk I judge
+you are in danger. If there&#8217;s going to be a fight, let me
+in.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben took his hand:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re the kind of a man I&#8217;d like to have for a
+brother, and I&#8217;ll help you in love&mdash;but as for war&mdash;it&#8217;s
+not your fight. We don&#8217;t need help.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At ten o&#8217;clock Ben met the local Den at their rendezvous
+under the cliff, to prepare for the events of the night.</p>
+<p>The forty members present were drawn up before him
+in double rank of twenty each.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Brethren,&#8221; he said to them solemnly, &#8220;I have called
+you to-night to take a step from which there can be no
+retreat. We are going to make a daring experiment of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span>
+the utmost importance. If there is a faint heart among
+you, now is the time to retire&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We are with you!&#8221; cried the men.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are laws of our race, old before this Republic
+was born in the souls of white freemen. The fiat of fools
+has repealed on paper these laws. Your fathers who
+created this Nation were first Conspirators, then Revolutionists,
+now Patriots and Saints. I need to-night ten
+volunteers to lead the coming clansmen over this county
+and disarm every negro in it. The men from North Carolina
+cannot be recognized. Each of you must run this
+risk. Your absence from home to-night will be doubly
+dangerous for what will be done here at this negro armoury
+under my command. I ask of these ten men to ride their
+horses until dawn, even unto death, to ride for their God,
+their native land, and the womanhood of the South!</p>
+<p>&#8220;To each man who accepts this dangerous mission I
+offer for your bed the earth, for your canopy the sky, for
+your bread stones; and when the flash of bayonets shall
+fling into your face from the Square the challenge of
+martial law, the protection I promise you&mdash;is exile, imprisonment,
+and death! Let the ten men who accept
+these terms step forward four paces.&#8221;</p>
+<p>With a single impulse the whole double line of forty
+white-and-scarlet figures moved quickly forward four steps!</p>
+<p>The leader shook hands with each man, his voice
+throbbing with emotion as he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stand together like this, men, and armies will march
+and countermarch over the South in vain! We will save
+the life of our people.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span></p>
+<p>The ten guides selected by the Grand Dragon rode
+forward, and each led a division of one hundred men
+through the ten townships of the county and successfully
+disarmed every negro before day without the loss of a life.</p>
+<p>The remaining squadron of two hundred and fifty men
+from Hambright, accompanied by the Grand Titan in
+command of the Province of Western Hill Counties, were
+led by Ben Cameron into Piedmont as the waning moon
+rose between twelve and one o&#8217;clock.</p>
+<p>They marched past Stoneman&#8217;s place on the way to the
+negro armoury, which stood on the opposite side of the
+street a block below.</p>
+<p>The wild music of the beat of a thousand hoofs on the
+cobblestones of the street waked every sleeper. The old
+Commoner hobbled to his window and watched them
+pass, his big hands fumbling nervously, and his soul
+stirred to its depths.</p>
+<p>The ghostlike shadowy columns moved slowly with the
+deliberate consciousness of power. The scarlet circles on
+their breasts could be easily seen when one turned toward
+the house, as could the big red letters K. K. K. on each
+horse&#8217;s flank.</p>
+<p>In the centre of the line waved from a gold-tipped spear
+the battle-flag of the Klan. As they passed the bright
+lights burning at his gate, old Stoneman could see this
+standard plainly. The huge black dragon with flaming
+eyes and tongue seemed a living thing crawling over a
+scarlet-tipped yellow cloud.</p>
+<p>At the window above stood a little figure watching that
+banner of the Dragon pass with aching heart.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span></p>
+<p>Phil stood at another, smiling with admiration for their
+daring:</p>
+<p>&#8220;By George, it stirs the blood to see it! You can&#8217;t
+crush men of that breed!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The watchers were not long in doubt as to what the
+raiders meant.</p>
+<p>They deployed quickly around the armoury. A whistle
+rang its shrill cry, and a volley of two hundred and fifty
+carbines and revolvers smashed every glass in the building.
+The sentinel had already given the alarm, and the
+drum was calling the startled negroes to their arms. They
+returned the volley twice, and for ten minutes were answered
+with the steady crack of two hundred and fifty
+guns. A white flag appeared at the door, and the firing
+ceased. The negroes laid down their arms and surrendered.
+All save three were allowed to go to their homes
+for the night and carry their wounded with them.</p>
+<p>The three confederates in the crime of their captain
+were bound and led away. In a few minutes the crash
+of a volley told their end.</p>
+<p>The little white figure rapped at Phil&#8217;s door and placed
+a trembling hand on his arm:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phil,&#8221; she said softly, &#8220;please go to the hotel and stay
+until you know all that has happened&mdash;until you know
+the full list of those killed and wounded. I&#8217;ll wait. You
+understand?&#8221;</p>
+<p>As he stooped and kissed her, he felt a hot tear roll
+down her cheek.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, little Sis, I understand,&#8221; he answered.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='V_THE_REIGN_OF_THE_KLAN' id='V_THE_REIGN_OF_THE_KLAN'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341' name='page_341'></a>341</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Reign of the Klan</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>In quick succession every county followed the example
+of Ulster, and the arms furnished the negroes
+by the State and National governments were in the
+hands of the Klan. The League began to collapse in a
+panic of terror.</p>
+<p>A gale of chivalrous passion and high action, contagious
+and intoxicating, swept the white race. The
+moral, mental, and physical earthquake which followed
+the first assault on one of their daughters revealed the
+unity of the racial life of the people. Within the span of
+a week they had lived a century.</p>
+<p>The spirit of the South &#8220;like lightning had at last
+leaped forth, half startled at itself, its feet upon the ashes
+and the rags,&#8221; its hands tight-gripped on the throat of
+tyrant, thug, and thief.</p>
+<p>It was the resistless movement of a race, not of any
+man or leader of men. The secret weapon with which
+they struck was the most terrible and efficient in human
+history&mdash;these pale hosts of white-and-scarlet horsemen!
+They struck shrouded in a mantle of darkness and terror.
+They struck where the power of resistance was weakest
+and the blow least suspected. Discovery or retaliation
+was impossible. Not a single disguise was ever penetrated.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342' name='page_342'></a>342</span>
+All was planned and ordered as by destiny. The
+accused was tried by secret tribunal, sentenced without
+a hearing, executed in the dead of night without warning,
+mercy, or appeal. The movements of the Klan were like
+clockwork, without a word, save the whistle of the Night
+Hawk, the crack of his revolver, and the hoofbeat of
+swift horses moving like figures in a dream, and vanishing
+in mists and shadows.</p>
+<p>The old club-footed Puritan, in his mad scheme of vengeance
+and party power, had overlooked the Covenanter,
+the backbone of the South. This man had just begun to
+fight! His race had defied the Crown of Great Britain
+a hundred years from the caves and wilds of Scotland
+and Ireland, taught the English people how to slay a
+king and build a commonwealth, and, driven into exile
+into the wilderness of America, led our Revolution,
+peopled the hills of the South, and conquered the West.</p>
+<p>As the young German patriots of 1812 had organized
+the great struggle for their liberties under the noses of the
+garrisons of Napoleon, so Ben Cameron had met the
+leaders of his race in Nashville, Tennessee, within the
+picket lines of thirty-five thousand hostile troops, and in
+the ruins of an old homestead discussed and adopted the
+ritual of the Invisible Empire.</p>
+<p>Within a few months this Empire overspread a territory
+larger than modern Europe. In the approaching
+election it was reaching out its daring white hands to tear
+the fruits of victory from twenty million victorious conquerors.</p>
+<p>The triumph at which they aimed was one of incredible
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343' name='page_343'></a>343</span>
+grandeur. They had risen to snatch power out of defeat
+and death. Under their clan leadership the Southern
+people had suddenly developed the courage of the lion,
+the cunning of the fox, and the deathless faith of religious
+enthusiasts.</p>
+<p>Society was fused in the white heat of one sublime
+thought and beat with the pulse of the single will of the
+Grand Wizard of the Klan of Memphis.</p>
+<p>Women and children had eyes and saw not, ears and
+heard not. Over four thousand disguises for men and
+horses were made by the women of the South, and not one
+secret ever passed their lips!</p>
+<p>With magnificent audacity, infinite patience, and remorseless
+zeal, a conquered people were struggling to
+turn his own weapon against their conqueror, and beat
+his brains out with the bludgeon he had placed in the
+hands of their former slaves.</p>
+<p>Behind the tragedy of Reconstruction stood the remarkable
+man whose iron will alone had driven these
+terrible measures through the chaos of passion, corruption,
+and bewilderment which followed the first assassination
+of an American President. As he leaned on his
+window in this village of the South and watched in speechless
+rage the struggle at that negro armoury, he felt for the
+first time the foundations sinking beneath his feet. As
+he saw the black cowards surrender in terror, noted the
+indifference and cool defiance with which those white
+horsemen rode and shot, he knew that he had collided
+with the ultimate force which his whole scheme had overlooked.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344' name='page_344'></a>344</span></p>
+<p>He turned on his big club foot from the window,
+clinched his fist and muttered:</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I&#8217;ll hang that man for this deed if it&#8217;s the last act
+of my life!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The morning brought dismay to the negro, the carpet-bagger,
+and the scallawag of Ulster. A peculiar freak of
+weather in the early morning added to their terror. The
+sun rose clear and bright except for a slight fog that
+floated from the river valley, increasing the roar of the
+falls. About nine o&#8217;clock a huge black shadow suddenly
+rushed over Piedmont from the west, and in a moment the
+town was shrouded in twilight. The cries of birds were
+hushed and chickens went to roost as in a total eclipse of
+the sun. Knots of people gathered on the streets and
+gazed uneasily at the threatening skies. Hundreds of
+negroes began to sing and shout and pray, while sensible
+people feared a cyclone or cloud-burst. A furious downpour
+of rain was swiftly followed by sunshine, and the
+negroes rose from their knees, shouting with joy to find the
+end of the world had after all been postponed.</p>
+<p>But that the end of their brief reign in a white man&#8217;s
+land had come, but few of them doubted. The events of
+the night were sufficiently eloquent. The movement of
+the clouds in sympathy was unnecessary.</p>
+<p>Old Stoneman sent for Lynch, and found he had fled to
+Columbia. He sent for the only lawyer in town whom
+the Lieutenant-Governor had told him could be trusted.</p>
+<p>The lawyer was polite, but his refusal to undertake the
+prosecution of any alleged member of the Klan was emphatic.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345' name='page_345'></a>345</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m a sinful man, sir,&#8221; he said with a smile. &#8220;Besides,
+I prefer to live, on general principles.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll pay you well,&#8221; urged the old man, &#8220;and if you
+secure the conviction of Ben Cameron, the man we believe
+to be the head of this Klan, I&#8217;ll give you ten thousand
+dollars.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The lawyer was whittling on a piece of pine meditatively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s a big lot of money in these hard times. I&#8217;d
+like to own it, but I&#8217;m afraid it wouldn&#8217;t be good at the
+bank on the other side. I prefer the green fields of
+South Carolina to those of Eden. My harp isn&#8217;t in tune.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman snorted in disgust:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you ask the Mayor to call to see me at once?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We ain&#8217;t got none,&#8221; was the laconic answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Haven&#8217;t you heard what happened to his Honour
+last night?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Klan called to see him,&#8221; went on the lawyer with
+a quizzical look &#8220;at 3 A. M. Rather early for a visit of
+state. They gave him forty-nine lashes on his bare back,
+and persuaded him that the climate of Piedmont didn&#8217;t
+agree with him. His Honour, Mayor Bizzel, left this
+morning with his negro wife and brood of mulatto children
+for his home, the slums of Cleveland, Ohio. We are
+deprived of his illustrious example, and he may not be a
+wiser man than when he came, but he&#8217;s a much sadder
+one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman dismissed the even-tempered member of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346' name='page_346'></a>346</span>
+bar, and wired Lynch to return immediately to Piedmont.
+He determined to conduct the prosecution of Ben Cameron
+in person. With the aid of the Lieutenant-Governor
+he succeeded in finding a man who would dare to swear out
+a warrant against him.</p>
+<p>As a preliminary skirmish he was charged with a violation
+of the statutory laws of the United States relating
+to Reconstruction and arraigned before a Commissioner.</p>
+<p>Against Elsie&#8217;s agonizing protest, old Stoneman appeared
+at the courthouse to conduct the prosecution.</p>
+<p>In the absence of the United States Marshal, the warrant
+had been placed in the hands of the sheriff, returnable
+at ten o&#8217;clock on the morning fixed for the trial. The
+new sheriff of Ulster was no less a personage than Uncle
+Aleck, who had resigned his seat in the House to accept
+the more profitable one of High Sheriff of the County.</p>
+<p>There was a long delay in beginning the trial. At
+10:30 not a single witness summoned had appeared, nor
+had the prisoner seen fit to honour the court with his
+presence.</p>
+<p>Old Stoneman sat fumbling his hands in nervous, sullen
+rage, while Phil looked on with amusement.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Send for the sheriff,&#8221; he growled to the Commissioner.</p>
+<p>In a moment Aleck appeared bowing humbly and politely
+to every white man he passed. He bent halfway
+to the floor before the Commissioner and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Marse Ben be here in er minute, sah. He&#8217;s er eatin&#8217;
+his breakfus&#8217;. I run erlong erhead.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman&#8217;s face was a thundercloud as he scrambled to
+his feet and glared at Aleck:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347' name='page_347'></a>347</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Marse</i> Ben? Did you say <i>Marse</i> Ben? Who&#8217;s he?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck bowed low again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;De young Colonel, sah&mdash;Marse Ben Cameron.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you the sheriff of this county trotted along in
+front to make the way smooth for your prisoner?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is that the way you escort prisoners before a court?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dem kin&#8217; er prisoners&mdash;yessah.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why didn&#8217;t you walk beside him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck grinned from ear to ear and bowed very low:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He say sumfin&#8217; to me, sah!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And what did he say?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck shook his head and laughed:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hates ter insinuate ter de cote, sah!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What did he say to you?&#8221; thundered Stoneman.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He say&mdash;he say&mdash;ef I walk &#8217;longside er him&mdash;he
+knock hell outen me, sah!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Indeed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah, en I &#8216;spec&#8217; he would,&#8221; said Aleck insinuatingly.
+&#8220;La, he&#8217;s a gemman, sah, he is! He tell me he
+come right on. He be here sho&#8217;.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman whispered to Lynch, turned with a look of
+contempt to Aleck, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Sheriff, you interest me. Will you be kind
+enough to explain to this court what has happened to you
+lately to so miraculously change your manners?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck glanced around the room nervously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I seed sumfin&#8217;&mdash;a vision, sah!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A vision? Are you given to visions?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Na-sah. Dis yere wuz er sho&#8217; &#8217;nuff vision! I wuz er
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348' name='page_348'></a>348</span>
+feelin&#8217; bad all day yistiddy. Soon in de mawnin&#8217;, ez I
+wuz gwine &#8217;long de road, I see a big black bird er settin&#8217; on
+de fence. He flop his wings, look right at me en say,
+&#8216;Corpse! Corpse! Corpse!&#8217;&#8221;&mdash;Aleck&#8217;s voice dropped
+to a whisper&mdash;&#8220;&#8217;en las&#8217; night de Ku Kluxes come ter see
+me, sah!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman lifted his beetling brows.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s interesting. We are searching for information
+on that subject.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah! Dey wuz Sperits, ridin&#8217; white hosses wid
+flowin&#8217; white robes, en big blood-red eyes! De hosses
+wuz twenty feet high, en some er de Sperits wuz higher
+dan dis cote-house! Dey wuz all bal&#8217; headed, &#8217;cept
+right on de top whar dere wuz er straight blaze er fire shot
+up in de air ten foot high!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What did they say to you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dey say dat ef I didn&#8217;t design de sheriff&#8217;s office, go back
+ter farmin&#8217; en behave myself, dey had er job waitin&#8217; fer me
+in hell, sah. En shos&#8217; you born dey wuz right from dar!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course!&#8221; sneered the old Commoner.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessah! Hit&#8217;s des lak I tell yer. One ob &#8217;em makes
+me fetch &#8217;im er drink er water. I carry two bucketsful
+ter &#8217;im &#8216;fo&#8217; I git done, en I swar ter God he drink it all
+right dar &#8216;fo&#8217; my eyes! He say hit wuz pow&#8217;ful dry down
+below, sah! En den I feel sumfin&#8217; bus&#8217; loose inside er me,
+en I disremember all dat come ter pass! I made er
+jump fer de ribber bank, en de next I knowed I wuz er
+pullin&#8217; fur de odder sho&#8217;. I&#8217;se er pow&#8217;ful good swimmer,
+sah, but I nebber git ercross er creek befo&#8217; ez quick ez I
+got ober de ribber las&#8217; night.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349' name='page_349'></a>349</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;And you think of going back to farming?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I done begin plowin&#8217; dis mornin&#8217;, marster!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Don&#8217;t</i> you call me marster!&#8221; yelled the old man.
+&#8220;Are you the sheriff of this county?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Aleck laughed loudly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Na-sah! Dat&#8217;s er joke! I ain&#8217;t nuttin&#8217; but er plain
+nigger&mdash;I wants peace, judge.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Evidently we need a new sheriff.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dat&#8217;s what I tell &#8217;em, sah, dis mornin&#8217;&mdash;en I des
+flings mysef on de ignance er de cote!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Phil laughed aloud, and his father&#8217;s colourless eyes
+began to spit cold poison.</p>
+<p>&#8220;About what time do you think your master, Colonel
+Cameron, will honour us with his presence?&#8221; he asked
+Aleck.</p>
+<p>Again the sheriff bowed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s er comin&#8217; right now, lak I tole yer&mdash;he&#8217;s er gemman,
+sah.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben walked briskly into the room and confronted the
+Commissioner.</p>
+<p>Without apparently noticing his presence, Stoneman
+said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;In the absence of witnesses we accept the discharge
+of this warrant, pending developments.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben turned on his heel, pressed Phil&#8217;s hand as he passed
+through the crowd, and disappeared.</p>
+<p>The old Commoner drove to the telegraph office and
+sent a message of more than a thousand words to the
+White House, a copy of which the operator delivered to
+Ben Cameron within an hour.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350' name='page_350'></a>350</span></p>
+<p>President Grant next morning issued a proclamation
+declaring the nine Scotch-Irish hill counties of South
+Carolina in a state of insurrection, ordered an army corps
+of five thousand men to report there for duty, pending
+the further necessity of martial law and the suspension
+of the writ of <i>Habeas Corpus</i>.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VI_THE_COUNTER_STROKE' id='VI_THE_COUNTER_STROKE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351' name='page_351'></a>351</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Counter Stroke</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>From the hour he had watched the capture of the
+armoury old Stoneman felt in the air a current
+against him which was electric, as if the dead
+had heard the cry of the clansmen&#8217;s greeting, risen and
+rallied to their pale ranks.</p>
+<p>The daring campaign these men were waging took
+his breath. They were going not only to defeat his delegation
+to Congress, but send their own to take their seats,
+reinforced by the enormous power of a suppressed negro
+vote. The blow was so sublime in its audacity, he laughed
+in secret admiration while he raved and cursed.</p>
+<p>The army corps took possession of the hill counties,
+quartering from five to six hundred regulars at each
+courthouse; but the mischief was done. The State was on
+fire. The eighty thousand rifles with which the negroes
+had been armed were now in the hands of their foes.
+A white rifle-club was organized in every town, village,
+and hamlet. They attended the public meetings with
+their guns, drilled in front of the speakers&#8217; stands, yelled,
+hooted, hissed, cursed, and jeered at the orators who
+dared to champion or apologize for negro rule. At night
+the hoofbeat of squadrons of pale horsemen and the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352' name='page_352'></a>352</span>
+crack of their revolvers struck terror to the heart of every
+negro, carpet-bagger, and scallawag.</p>
+<p>There was a momentary lull in the excitement, which
+Stoneman mistook for fear, at the appearance of the
+troops. He had the Governor appoint a white sheriff, a
+young scallawag from the mountains who was a noted
+moonshiner and desperado. He arrested over a hundred
+leading men in the county, charged them with complicity
+in the killing of the three members of the African Guard,
+and instructed the judge and clerk of the court to refuse
+bail and commit them to jail under military guard.</p>
+<p>To his amazement the prisoners came into Piedmont
+armed and mounted. They paid no attention to the
+deputy sheriffs who were supposed to have them in
+charge. They deliberately formed in line under Ben
+Cameron&#8217;s direction and he led them in a parade through
+the streets.</p>
+<p>The five hundred United States regulars who were
+camped on the river bank were Westerners. Ben led
+his squadron of armed prisoners in front of this camp and
+took them through the evolutions of cavalry with the precision
+of veterans. The soldiers dropped their games and
+gathered, laughing, to watch them. The drill ended
+with a double-rank charge at the river embankment.
+When they drew every horse on his haunches on the
+brink, firing a volley with a single crash, a wild cheer
+broke from the soldiers, and the officers rushed from their
+tents.</p>
+<p>Ben wheeled his men, galloped in front of the camp,
+drew them up at dress parade, and saluted. A low word
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353' name='page_353'></a>353</span>
+of command from a trooper, and the Westerners quickly
+formed in ranks, returned the salute, and cheered. The
+officers rushed up, cursing, and drove the men back to
+their tents.</p>
+<p>The horsemen laughed, fired a volley in the air, cheered,
+and galloped back to the courthouse. The court was
+glad to get rid of them. There was no question raised
+over technicalities in making out bail-bonds. The clerk
+wrote the names of imaginary bondsmen as fast as his pen
+could fly, while the perspiration stood in beads on his red
+forehead.</p>
+<p>Another telegram from old Stoneman to the White
+House, and the Writ of <i>Habeas Corpus</i> was suspended
+and Martial Law proclaimed.</p>
+<p>Enraged beyond measure at the salute from the troops,
+he had two companies of negro regulars sent from Columbia,
+and they camped in the Courthouse Square.</p>
+<p>He determined to make a desperate effort to crush the
+fierce spirit before which his forces were being driven like
+chaff. He induced Bizzel to return from Cleveland with
+his negro wife and children. He was escorted to the City
+Hall and reinstalled as Mayor by the full force of seven
+hundred troops, and a negro guard placed around his
+house. Stoneman had Lynch run an excursion from the
+Black Belt, and brought a thousand negroes to attend a
+final rally at Piedmont. He placarded the town with
+posters on which were printed the Civil Rights Bill
+and the proclamation of the President declaring Martial
+Law.</p>
+<p>Ben watched this day dawn with nervous dread. He
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354' name='page_354'></a>354</span>
+had passed a sleepless night, riding in person to every
+Den of the Klan and issuing positive orders that no white
+man should come to Piedmont.</p>
+<p>A clash with the authority of the United States he had
+avoided from the first as a matter of principle. It was
+essential to his success that his men should commit no act
+of desperation which would imperil his plans. Above
+all, he wished to avoid a clash with old Stoneman personally.</p>
+<p>The arrival of the big excursion was the signal for a
+revival of negro insolence which had been planned. The
+men brought from the Eastern part of the State were
+selected for the purpose. They marched over the town
+yelling and singing. A crowd of them, half drunk,
+formed themselves three abreast and rushed the sidewalks,
+pushing every white man, woman, and child into
+the street.</p>
+<p>They met Phil on his way to the hotel and pushed him
+into the gutter. He said nothing, crossed the street,
+bought a revolver, loaded it and put it in his pocket. He
+was not popular with the negroes, and he had been shot
+at twice on his way from the mills at night. The whole
+affair of this rally, over which his father meant to preside,
+filled him with disgust, and he was in an ugly mood.</p>
+<p>Lynch&#8217;s speech was bold, bitter, and incendiary, and at
+its close the drunken negro troopers from the local garrison
+began to slouch through the streets, two and two,
+looking for trouble.</p>
+<p>At the close of the speaking Stoneman called the officer
+in command of these troops, and said:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355' name='page_355'></a>355</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Major, I wish this rally to-day to be a proclamation
+of the supremacy of law, and the enforcement of the
+equality of every man under law. Your troops are entitled
+to the rights of white men. I understand the hotel
+table has been free to-day to the soldiers from the camp
+on the river. They are returning the courtesy extended
+to the criminals who drilled before them. Send two of
+your black troops down for dinner and see that it is
+served. I wish an example for the State.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will be a dangerous performance, sir,&#8221; the major
+protested.</p>
+<p>The old Commoner furrowed his brow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you been instructed to act under my orders?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have, sir,&#8221; said the officer, saluting.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then do as I tell you,&#8221; snapped Stoneman.</p>
+<p>Ben Cameron had kept indoors all day, and dined with
+fifty of the Western troopers whom he had identified as
+leading in the friendly demonstration to his men. Margaret,
+who had been busy with Mrs. Cameron entertaining
+these soldiers, was seated in the dining-room alone,
+eating her dinner, while Phil waited impatiently in the
+parlour.</p>
+<p>The guests had all gone when two big negro troopers,
+fighting drunk, walked into the hotel. They went to
+the water-cooler and drank ostentatiously, thrusting
+their thick lips coated with filth far into the cocoanut
+dipper, while a dirty hand grasped its surface.</p>
+<p>They pushed the dining-room door open and suddenly
+flopped down beside Margaret.</p>
+<p>She attempted to rise, and cried in rage:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356' name='page_356'></a>356</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;How dare you, black brutes?&#8221;</p>
+<p>One of them threw his arm around her chair, thrust his
+face into hers, and said with a laugh:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t hurry, my beauty; stay and take dinner wid us!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret again attempted to rise, and screamed, as
+Phil rushed into the room with drawn revolver. One of
+the negroes fired at him, missed, and the next moment
+dropped dead with a bullet through his heart.</p>
+<p>The other leaped across the table and through the open
+window.</p>
+<p>Margaret turned, confronting both Phil and Ben with
+revolvers in their hands, and fainted.</p>
+<p>Ben hurried Phil out the back door and persuaded him
+to fly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Man, you must go! We must not have a riot here to-day.
+There&#8217;s no telling what will happen. A disturbance
+now, and my men will swarm into town to-night.
+For God&#8217;s sake go, until things are quiet!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I tell you I&#8217;ll face it. I&#8217;m not afraid,&#8221; said Phil
+quietly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, but I am,&#8221; urged Ben. &#8220;These two hundred
+negroes are armed and drunk. Their officers may not
+be able to control them, and they may lay their hands on
+you&mdash;go&mdash;go!&mdash;go!&mdash;you must go! The train is due in
+fifteen minutes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He half lifted him on a horse tied behind the hotel,
+leaped on another, galloped to the flag-station two miles
+out of town, and put him on the north-bound train.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stay in Charlotte until I wire for you,&#8221; was Ben&#8217;s
+parting injunction.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357' name='page_357'></a>357</span></p>
+<p>He turned his horse&#8217;s head for McAllister&#8217;s, sent the
+two boys with all speed to the Cyclops of each of the ten
+township Dens with positive orders to disregard all wild
+rumours from Piedmont and keep every man out of town
+for two days.</p>
+<p>As he rode back he met a squad of mounted white regulars,
+who arrested him. The trooper&#8217;s companion had
+sworn positively that he was the man who killed the
+negro.</p>
+<p>Within thirty minutes he was tried by drum-head
+court-martial and sentenced to be shot.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VII_THE_SNARE_OF_THE_FOWLER' id='VII_THE_SNARE_OF_THE_FOWLER'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358' name='page_358'></a>358</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Snare of the Fowler</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Sweet was the secret joy of old Stoneman over the
+fate of Ben Cameron. His death sentence would
+strike terror to his party, and his prompt execution,
+on the morning of the election but two days off,
+would turn the tide, save the State, and rescue his daughter
+from a hated alliance.</p>
+<p>He determined to bar the last way of escape. He knew
+the Klan would attempt a rescue, and stop at no means
+fair or foul short of civil war. Afraid of the loyalty of the
+white battalions quartered in Piedmont, he determined to
+leave immediately for Spartanburg, order an exchange of
+garrisons, and, when the death warrant was returned
+from headquarters, place its execution in the hands of a
+stranger, to whom appeal would be vain. He knew such
+an officer in the Spartanburg post, a man of fierce, vindictive
+nature, once court-martialed for cruelty, who
+hated every Southern white man with mortal venom. He
+would put him in command of the death watch.</p>
+<p>He hired a fast team and drove across the county with
+all speed, doubly anxious to get out of town before Elsie
+discovered the tragedy and appealed to him for mercy.
+Her tears and agony would be more than he could endure.
+She would stay indoors on account of the crowds, and he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_359' name='page_359'></a>359</span>
+would not be missed until evening, when safely beyond
+her reach.</p>
+<p>When Phil arrived at Charlotte he found an immense
+crowd at the bulletin board in front of the <i>Observer</i> office
+reading the account of the Piedmont tragedy. To his
+horror he learned of the arrest, trial, and sentence of Ben
+for the deed which he had done.</p>
+<p>He rushed to the office of the Division Superintendent
+of the Piedmont Air Line Railroad, revealed his identity,
+told him the true story of the tragedy, and begged for a
+special to carry him back. The Superintendent, who was
+a clansman, not only agreed, but within an hour had the
+special ready and two cars filled with stern-looking men
+to accompany him. Phil asked no questions. He
+knew what it meant. The train stopped at Gastonia
+and King&#8217;s Mountain and took on a hundred more
+men.</p>
+<p>The special pulled into Piedmont at dusk. Phil ran to
+the Commandant and asked for an interview with Ben
+alone.</p>
+<p>&#8220;For what purpose, sir?&#8221; the officer asked.</p>
+<p>Phil resorted to a ruse, knowing the Commandant to
+be unaware of any difference of opinion between him and
+his father.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hold a commission to obtain a confession from the
+prisoner which may save his life by destroying the Ku
+Klux Klan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He was admitted at once and the guard ordered to withdraw
+until the interview ended.</p>
+<p>Phil took Ben Cameron&#8217;s place, exchanging hat and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360' name='page_360'></a>360</span>
+coat, and wrote a note to his father, telling in detail the
+truth, and asked for his immediate interference.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Deliver that, and I&#8217;ll be out of here in two hours,&#8221; he
+said, as he placed the note in Ben&#8217;s hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll go straight to the house,&#8221; was the quick reply.</p>
+<p>The exchange of the Southerner&#8217;s slouch hat and
+Prince Albert for Phil&#8217;s derby and short coat completely
+fooled the guard in the dim light. The men were as
+much alike as twins except the shade of difference in
+the colour of their hair. He passed the sentinel without
+a challenge, and walked rapidly toward Stoneman&#8217;s
+house.</p>
+<p>On the way he was astonished to meet five hundred
+soldiers just arrived on a special from Spartanburg.
+Amazed at the unexpected movement, he turned and followed
+them back to the jail.</p>
+<p>They halted in front of the building he had just vacated,
+and their commander handed an official document to the
+officer in charge. The guard was changed and a cordon
+of soldiers encircled the prison.</p>
+<p>The Piedmont garrison had received notice by wire to
+move to Spartanburg, and Ben heard the beat of their
+drums already marching to board the special.</p>
+<p>He pressed forward and asked an interview with the
+Captain in command.</p>
+<p>The answer came with a brutal oath:</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have been warned against all the tricks and lies this
+town can hatch. The commander of the death watch
+will permit no interview, receive no visitors, hear no
+appeal, and allow no communication with the prisoner
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361' name='page_361'></a>361</span>
+until after the execution. You can announce this to
+whom it may concern.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you&#8217;ve got the wrong man. You have no right
+to execute him,&#8221; said Ben excitedly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll risk it,&#8221; he answered, with a sneer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Great God!&#8221; Ben cried beneath his breath. &#8220;The
+old fool has entrapped his son in the net he spread for me!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='VIII_A_RIDE_FOR_A_LIFE' id='VIII_A_RIDE_FOR_A_LIFE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362' name='page_362'></a>362</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Ride for a Life</span></h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When Ben Cameron failed to find either Elsie
+or her father at home, he hurried to the hotel,
+walking under the shadows of the trees to
+avoid recognition, though his resemblance to Phil would
+have enabled him to pass in his hat and coat unchallenged
+by any save the keenest observers.</p>
+<p>He found his mother&#8217;s bedroom door ajar and saw Elsie
+within, sobbing in her arms. He paused, watched, and
+listened.</p>
+<p>Never had he seen his mother so beautiful&mdash;her face
+calm, intelligent, and vital, crowned with a halo of gray.
+She stood, flushed and dignified, softly smoothing the
+golden hair of the sobbing girl whom she had learned to
+love as her daughter. Her whole being reflected the years
+of homage she had inspired in husband, children, and
+neighbours. What a woman! She had made war inevitable,
+fought it to the bitter end; and in the despair of
+a negro reign of terror, still the prophetess and high
+priestess of a people, serene, undismayed, and defiant,
+she had fitted the uniform of a Grand Dragon on her
+last son, and sewed in secret day and night to equip his
+men. And through it all she was without affectation,
+her sweet motherly ways, gentle manner and bearing always
+resistless to those who came within her influence.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363' name='page_363'></a>363</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;If he dies,&#8221; cried the tearful voice, &#8220;I shall never forgive
+myself for not surrendering without reserve and
+fighting his battles with him!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is not dead yet,&#8221; was the mother&#8217;s firm answer.
+&#8220;Doctor Cameron is on Queen&#8217;s back. Your lover&#8217;s
+men will be riding to-night&mdash;these young dare-devil
+Knights of the South, with their life in their hands,
+a song on their lips, and the scorn of death in their
+souls!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll ride with them,&#8221; cried the girl, suddenly
+lifting her head.</p>
+<p>Ben stepped into the room, and with a cry of joy Elsie
+sprang into his arms. The mother stood silent until their
+lips met in the long tender kiss of the last surrender of
+perfect love.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How did you escape so soon?&#8221; she asked quietly,
+while Elsie&#8217;s head still lay on his breast.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phil shot the brute, and I rushed him out of town.
+He heard the news, returned on the special, took my
+place, and sent me for his father. The guard has been
+changed and it&#8217;s impossible to see him, or communicate
+with the new Commandant&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Elsie started and turned pale.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And father has hidden to avoid me&mdash;merciful God&mdash;if
+Phil is executed&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He isn&#8217;t dead yet, either,&#8221; said Ben, slipping his arm
+around her. &#8220;But we must save him without a clash or
+a drop of bloodshed, if possible. The fate of our people
+may hang on this. A battle with United States troops
+now might mean ruin for the South&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_364' name='page_364'></a>364</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;But you will save him?&#8221; Elsie pleaded, looking into
+his face.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;or I&#8217;ll go down with him,&#8221; was the steady answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where is Margaret?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gone to McAllister&#8217;s with a message from your
+father,&#8221; Mrs. Cameron replied,</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tell her when she returns to keep a steady nerve. I&#8217;ll
+save Phil. Send her to find her father. Tell him to hold
+five hundred men ready for action in the woods by the
+river and the rest in reserve two miles out of town&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;May I go with her?&#8221; Elsie asked eagerly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No. I may need you,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I am going to find
+the old statesman now, if I have to drag the bottomless
+pit. Wait here until I return.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Ben reached the telegraph office unobserved, called the
+operator at Columbia, and got the Grand Giant of the
+county into the office. Within an hour he learned that
+the death warrant had been received and approved. It
+would be returned by a messenger to Piedmont on the
+morning train. He learned also that any appeal for a
+stay must be made through the Honourable Austin Stoneman,
+the secret representative of the Government clothed
+with this special power. The execution had been ordered
+the day of the election, to prevent the concentration of
+any large force bent on rescue.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The old fox!&#8221; Ben muttered.</p>
+<p>From the Grand Giant at Spartanburg he learned, after
+a delay of three hours, that Stoneman had left with a boy
+in a buggy, which he had hired for three days, and refused
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_365' name='page_365'></a>365</span>
+to tell his destination. He promised to follow and locate
+him as quickly as possible.</p>
+<p>It was the afternoon on the day following, during the
+progress of the election, before Ben received the message
+from Spartanburg that Stoneman had been found at the
+Old Red Tavern where the roads crossed from Piedmont
+to Hambright. It was only twelve miles away, just over
+the line on the North Carolina side.</p>
+<p>He walked with Margaret to the block where Queen
+stood saddled, watching with pride the quiet air of self-control
+with which she bore herself.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, my sister, you know the way to the tavern.
+Ride for your sweetheart&#8217;s life. Bring the old man here
+by five o&#8217;clock, and we&#8217;ll save Phil without a fight. Keep
+your nerve. The Commandant knows a regiment of
+mine is lying in the woods, and he&#8217;s trying to slip out of
+town with his prisoner. I&#8217;ll stand by my men ready for
+a battle at a moment&#8217;s notice, but for God&#8217;s sake get here
+in time to prevent it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She stooped from the saddle, pressed her brother&#8217;s
+hand, kissed him, and galloped swiftly over the old Way
+of Romance she knew so well.</p>
+<p>On reaching the tavern, the landlord rudely denied that
+any such man was there, and left her standing dazed and
+struggling to keep back the tears.</p>
+<p>A boy of eight, with big wide friendly eyes, slipped into
+the room, looked up into her face tenderly, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s the biggest liar in North Carolina. The old
+man&#8217;s right upstairs in the room over your head. Come
+on; I&#8217;ll show you.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_366' name='page_366'></a>366</span></p>
+<p>Margaret snatched the child in her arms and kissed him.</p>
+<p>She knocked in vain for ten minutes. At last she heard
+his voice within:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go away from that door!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m from Piedmont, sir,&#8221; cried Margaret, &#8220;with an
+important message from the Commandant for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I saw you come. I will not see you. I know
+everything, and I will hear no appeal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you cannot know of the exchange of men,&#8221;
+pleaded the girl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I tell you I know all about it. I will not interfere&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you could not be so cruel&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The majesty of the law must be vindicated. The
+judge who consents to the execution of a murderer is not
+cruel. He is showing mercy to Society. Go, now; I
+will not hear you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>In vain Margaret knocked, begged, pleaded, and sobbed.</p>
+<p>At last, in a fit of desperation, as she saw the sun sinking
+lower and the precious minutes flying, she hurled her
+magnificent figure against the door and smashed the
+cheap lock which held it.</p>
+<p>The old man sat at the other side of the room, looking
+out of the window, with his massive jaws locked in rage.
+The girl staggered to his side, knelt by his chair, placed
+her trembling hand on his arm, and begged:</p>
+<p>&#8220;For the love of Jesus, have mercy! Come with me
+quickly!&#8221;</p>
+<p>With a growl of anger, he said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;No!&#8221;</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-366.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 378px; height: 583px;' /><br />
+<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 378px;'>
+MIRIAM COOPER AS MARGARET CAMERON.<br />
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_367' name='page_367'></a>367</span></div>
+<p>&#8220;It was a mad impulse, in my defence as well as his
+own.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Impulse, yes! But back of it lay banked the fires of
+cruelty and race hatred! The Nation cannot live with
+such barbarism rotting its heart out.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But this is war, sir&mdash;a war of races, and this an accident
+of war&mdash;besides, his life had been attempted by
+them twice before.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So I&#8217;ve heard, and yet the negro always happens to
+be the victim&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret leaped to her feet and glared at the old man
+for a moment in uncontrollable anger.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you a fiend?&#8221; she fairly shrieked.</p>
+<p>Old Stoneman merely pursed his lips.</p>
+<p>The girl came a step closer, and extended her hand
+again in mute appeal.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I was foolish. You are not cruel. I have heard
+of a hundred acts of charity you have done among our
+poor. Come, this is horrible! It is impossible! You
+cannot consent to the death of your son&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman looked up sharply:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank God, he hasn&#8217;t married my daughter yet&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your daughter!&#8221; gasped Margaret. &#8220;I&#8217;ve told you
+it was Phil who killed the negro! He took Ben&#8217;s place
+just before the guards were exchanged&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Phil!&mdash;Phil?&#8221; shrieked the old man, staggering to
+his club foot and stumbling toward Margaret with dilated
+eyes and whitening face; &#8220;My boy&mdash;Phil?&mdash;why&mdash;why,
+are you crazy?&mdash;Phil? Did you say&mdash;<i>Phil</i>?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Ben persuaded him to go to Charlotte until
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_368' name='page_368'></a>368</span>
+the excitement passed to avoid trouble. Come, come,
+sir, we must be quick! We may be too late!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She seized and pulled him toward the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Yes, we must hurry,&#8221; he said in a laboured
+whisper, looking around dazed. &#8220;You will show me the
+way, my child&mdash;you love him&mdash;yes, we will go quickly&mdash;quickly!
+my boy&mdash;my boy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret called the landlord, and while they hitched
+Queen to the buggy, the old man stood helplessly
+wringing and fumbling his big ugly hands, muttering
+incoherently, and tugging at his collar as though about
+to suffocate.</p>
+<p>As they dashed away, old Stoneman laid a trembling
+hand on Margaret&#8217;s arm.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your horse is a good one, my child?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; the one Marion saved&mdash;the finest in the county.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you know the way?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Every foot of it. Phil and I have driven it often.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes&mdash;you love him,&#8221; he sighed, pressing her
+hand.</p>
+<p>Through the long reckless drive, as the mare flew over
+the rough hills, every nerve and muscle of her fine body
+at its utmost tension, the father sat silent. He braced
+his club foot against the iron bar of the dashboard and
+gripped the sides of the buggy to steady his feeble body.
+Margaret leaned forward intently watching the road to
+avoid an accident. The old man&#8217;s strange colourless eyes
+stared straight in front, wide open, and seeing nothing,
+as if the soul had already fled through them into eternity.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='IX__VENGEANCE_IS_MINE' id='IX__VENGEANCE_IS_MINE'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_369' name='page_369'></a>369</span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<h3>&#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Vengeance Is Mine</span>&#8221;</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was dark long before Margaret and Stoneman
+reached Piedmont. A mile out of town a horse
+neighed in the woods, and, tired as she was, Queen
+threw her head high and answered the call.</p>
+<p>The old man did not notice it, but Margaret knew a
+squadron of white-and-scarlet horsemen stood in those
+woods, and her heart gave a bound of joy.</p>
+<p>As they passed the Presbyterian church, she saw
+through the open window her father standing at his
+Elder&#8217;s seat leading in prayer. They were holding a
+watch service, asking God for victory in the eventful
+struggle of the day.</p>
+<p>Margaret attempted to drive straight to the jail, and a
+sentinel stopped them.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am Stoneman, sir&mdash;the real commander of these
+troops,&#8221; said the old man, with authority.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Orders is orders, and I don&#8217;t take &#8217;em from you,&#8221;
+was the answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then tell your commander that Mr. Stoneman has
+just arrived from Spartanburg and asks to see him at the
+hotel immediately.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He hobbled into the parlour and waited in agony while
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_370' name='page_370'></a>370</span>
+Margaret tied the mare. Ben, her mother and father,
+and every servant were gone.</p>
+<p>In a few moments the second officer hurried to Stoneman,
+saluted, and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ve pulled it off in good shape, sir. They&#8217;ve tried
+to fool us with a dozen tricks, and a whole regiment has
+been lying in wait for us all day. But at dark the Captain
+outwitted them, took his prisoner with a squad of
+picked cavalry, and escaped their pickets. They&#8217;ve been
+gone an hour, and ought to be back with the body&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>Old Stoneman sprang on him with the sudden fury of
+a madman, clutching at his throat.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you&#8217;ve killed my son,&#8221; he gasped&mdash;&#8220;go&mdash;go! Follow
+them with a swift messenger and stop them! It&#8217;s a
+mistake&mdash;you&#8217;re killing the wrong man&mdash;you&#8217;re killing
+my boy&mdash;quick&mdash;my God, quick&mdash;don&#8217;t stand there
+staring at me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The officer rushed to obey his order as Margaret entered.</p>
+<p>The old man seized her arm, and said with laboured
+breath:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your father, my child, ask him to come to me
+quickly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Margaret hurried to the church, and an usher called
+the doctor to the door.</p>
+<p>He read the question trembling on the girl&#8217;s lips.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing has happened yet, my daughter. Your
+brother has held a regiment of his men in readiness every
+moment of the day.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Stoneman is at the hotel and asks to see you immediately,&#8221;
+she whispered.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_371' name='page_371'></a>371</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;God grant he may prevent bloodshed,&#8221; said the
+father. &#8220;Go inside and stay with your mother.&#8221;</p>
+<p>When Doctor Cameron entered the parlour Stoneman
+hobbled painfully to meet him, his face ashen, and his
+breath rattling in his throat as if his soul were being
+strangled.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are my enemy, Doctor,&#8221; he said, taking his hand,
+&#8220;but you are a pious man. I have been called an infidel&mdash;I
+am only a wilful sinner&mdash;I have slain my own son,
+unless God Almighty, who can raise the dead, shall save
+him! You are the man at whom I aimed the blow that
+has fallen on my head. I wish to confess to you and set
+myself right before God. He may hear my cry, and have
+mercy on me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He gasped for breath, sank into his seat, looked around,
+and said:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will you close the door?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The doctor complied with his request and returned.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We all wear masks, Doctor,&#8221; began the trembling
+voice. &#8220;Beneath lie the secrets of love and hate from
+which actions move. My will alone forged the chains of
+negro rule. Three forces moved me&mdash;party success, a
+vicious woman, and the quenchless desire for personal
+vengeance. When I first fell a victim to the wiles of the
+yellow vampire who kept my house, I dreamed of lifting
+her to my level. And when I felt myself sinking into
+the black abyss of animalism, I, whose soul had learned
+the pathway of the stars and held high converse with the
+great spirits of the ages&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He paused, looked up in terror, and whispered:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_372' name='page_372'></a>372</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that noise? Isn&#8217;t it the distant beat of
+horses&#8217; hoofs?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said the doctor, listening; &#8220;it&#8217;s the roar of the
+falls we hear, from a sudden change of the wind.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m done now,&#8221; Stoneman went on, slowly fumbling
+his hands. &#8220;My life has been a failure. The dice of
+God are always loaded.&#8221;</p>
+<p>His great head drooped lower, and he continued:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mightiest of all was my motive of revenge. Fierce
+business and political feuds wrecked my iron mills. I
+shouldered their vast debts, and paid the last mortgage
+of a hundred thousand dollars the week before Lee invaded
+my State. I stood on the hill in the darkness,
+cried, raved, cursed, while I watched the troops lay those
+mills in ashes. Then and there I swore that I&#8217;d live
+until I ground the South beneath my heel! When I got
+back to my house they had buried a Confederate soldier
+in the field. I dug his body up, carted it to the woods,
+and threw it into a ditch&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>The hand of the white-haired Southerner suddenly
+gripped old Stoneman&#8217;s throat&mdash;and then relaxed. His
+head sank on his breast, and he cried in anguish:</p>
+<p>&#8220;God be merciful to me a sinner! Would I, too, seek
+revenge!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Stoneman looked at the doctor, dazed by his sudden
+onslaught and collapse.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, he was somebody&#8217;s boy down here,&#8221; he went on,
+&#8220;who was loved perhaps even as I love&mdash;I don&#8217;t blame
+you. See, in the inside pocket next to my heart I carry
+the pictures of Phil and Elsie taken from babyhood up,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_373' name='page_373'></a>373</span>
+all set in a little book. They don&#8217;t know this&mdash;nor does
+the world dream I&#8217;ve been so soft-hearted&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>He drew a miniature album from his pocket and fumbled
+it aimlessly:</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know Phil was my first-born&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>His voice broke, and he looked at the doctor helplessly.</p>
+<p>The Southerner slipped his arm around the old man&#8217;s
+shoulders and began a tender and reverent prayer.</p>
+<p>The sudden thunder of a squad of cavalry with clanking
+sabres swept by the hotel toward the jail.</p>
+<p>Stoneman scrambled to his feet, staggered, and caught
+a chair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s no use,&#8221; he groaned, &#8220;&mdash;they&#8217;ve come with his
+body&mdash;I&#8217;m slipping down&mdash;the lights are going out&mdash;I
+haven&#8217;t a friend! It&#8217;s dark and cold&mdash;I&#8217;m alone, and
+lost&mdash;God&mdash;has&mdash;hidden&mdash;His&mdash;face&mdash;from&mdash;me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Voices were heard without, and the tramp of heavy
+feet on the steps.</p>
+<p>Stoneman clutched the doctor&#8217;s arm in agony:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stop them!&mdash;Stop them! Don&#8217;t let them bring him
+in here!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He sank limp into the chair and stared at the door as it
+swung open and Phil walked in, with Ben and Elsie by his
+side, in full clansman disguise.</p>
+<p>The old man leaped to his feet and gasped:</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Klan!&mdash;The Klan! No? Yes! It&#8217;s true&mdash;glory
+to God, they&#8217;ve saved my boy&mdash;Phil&mdash;Phil!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How did you rescue him?&#8221; Doctor Cameron asked
+Ben.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Had a squadron lying in wait on every road that led
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_374' name='page_374'></a>374</span>
+from town. The Captain thought a thousand men were
+on him, and surrendered without a shot.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>At twelve o&#8217;clock Ben stood at the gate with Elsie.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your fate hangs in the balance of this election to-night,&#8221;
+she said. &#8220;I&#8217;ll share it with you, success or failure,
+life or death.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Success, not failure,&#8221; he answered firmly. &#8220;The
+Grand Dragons of six States have already wired victory.
+Look at our lights on the mountains! They are ablaze&mdash;range
+on range our signals gleam until the Fiery Cross is
+lost among the stars!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What does it mean?&#8221; she whispered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That I am a successful revolutionist&mdash;that Civilization
+has been saved, and the South redeemed from
+shame.&#8221;</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' margin-top:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>THE END</p>
+</div>
+
+<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.18 -->
+<!-- timestamp: Fri Aug 08 19:23:01 -0600 2008 -->
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Clansman, by Thomas Dixon
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+</body>
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@@ -0,0 +1,12067 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Clansman, by Thomas Dixon
+
+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: The Clansman
+       An Historical Romance of the Ku Klux Klan
+
+Author: Thomas Dixon
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2008 [EBook #26240]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLANSMAN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CLANSMAN
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+The Illustrations Shown in This Edition Are Reproductions of Scenes
+from the Photo-Play of "The Birth of a Nation" Produced and
+Copyrighted by The Epoch Producing Corporation, to Whom the Publishers
+Desire to Express Their Thanks and Appreciation for Permission to Use
+the Pictures.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+[Illustration: THE REIGN OF THE KLAN]
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+THE CLANSMAN
+
+An Historical Romance
+of the Ku Klux Klan
+
+By
+THOMAS DIXON
+
+Author Of
+The Leopard's Spots, Comrades, Etc.
+
+Illustrated With Scenes From The Photo-Play
+THE BIRTH OF A NATION
+Produced And Copyrighted By
+Epoch Producing Corporation
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP
+Publishers :: New York
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Copyright, 1905
+BY THOMAS DIXON, JR.
+
+The Country Life Press, Garden City, N. Y.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+TO THE MEMORY OF
+A SCOTCH-IRISH LEADER OF THE SOUTH
+
+MY UNCLE, COLONEL LEROY MCAFEE
+
+GRAND TITAN OF THE INVISIBLE EMPIRE
+KU KLUX KLAN
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+TO THE READER
+
+"The Clansman" is the second book of a series of historical novels planned
+on the Race Conflict. "The Leopard's Spots" was the statement in
+historical outline of the conditions from the enfranchisement of the negro
+to his disfranchisement.
+
+"The Clansman" develops the true story of the "Ku Klux Klan Conspiracy,"
+which overturned the Reconstruction regime.
+
+The organization was governed by the Grand Wizard Commander-in-Chief, who
+lived at Memphis, Tennessee. The Grand Dragon commanded a State, the Grand
+Titan a Congressional District, the Grand Giant a County, and the Grand
+Cyclops a Township Den. The twelve volumes of Government reports on the
+famous Klan refer chiefly to events which occurred after 1870, the date of
+its dissolution.
+
+The chaos of blind passion that followed Lincoln's assassination is
+inconceivable to-day. The revolution it produced in our Government, and
+the bold attempt of Thaddeus Stevens to Africanize ten great States of the
+American Union, read now like tales from "The Arabian Nights."
+
+I have sought to preserve in this romance both the letter and the spirit
+of this remarkable period. The men who enact the drama of fierce revenge
+into which I have woven a double love story are historical figures. I have
+merely changed their names without taking a liberty with any essential
+historic fact.
+
+In the darkest hour of the life of the South, when her wounded people lay
+helpless amid rags and ashes under the beak and talon of the Vulture,
+suddenly from the mists of the mountains appeared a white cloud the size
+of a man's hand. It grew until its mantle of mystery enfolded the stricken
+earth and sky. An "Invisible Empire" had risen from the field of Death and
+challenged the Visible to mortal combat.
+
+How the young South, led by the reincarnated souls of the Clansmen of Old
+Scotland, went forth under this cover and against overwhelming odds,
+daring exile, imprisonment, and a felon's death, and saved the life of a
+people, forms one of the most dramatic chapters in the history of the
+Aryan race.
+
+                                                      Thomas Dixon, Jr.
+
+  Dixondale, Va.
+    December 14, 1904.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+CONTENTS
+
+BOOK I
+
+THE ASSASSINATION
+
+CHAPTER                                  PAGE
+     I.  The Bruised Reed                   3
+    II.  The Great Heart                   19
+   III.  The Man of War                    33
+    IV.  A Clash of Giants                 38
+    IV.  The Battle of Love                56
+    VI.  The Assassination                 61
+   VII.  The Frenzy of a Nation            80
+
+BOOK II
+
+THE REVOLUTION
+
+CHAPTER                                  PAGE
+     I.  The First Lady of the Land        90
+    II.  Sweethearts                      101
+   III.  The Joy of Living                112
+    IV.  Hidden Treasure                  115
+     V.  Across the Chasm                 120
+    VI.  The Gauge of Battle              131
+   VII.  A Woman Laughs                   136
+  VIII.  A Dream                          148
+    IX.  The King Amuses Himself          152
+     X.  Tossed by the Storm              162
+    XI.  The Supreme Test                 165
+   XII.  Triumph in Defeat                179
+
+BOOK III
+
+THE REIGN OF TERROR
+
+CHAPTER                                  PAGE
+     I.  A Fallen Slaveholder's Mansion   187
+    II.  The Eyes of the Jungle           204
+   III.  Augustus Caesar                   209
+    IV.  At the Point of the Bayonet      218
+     V.  Forty Acres and a Mule           235
+    VI.  A Whisper in the Crowd           244
+   VII.  By the Light of a Torch          254
+  VIII.  The Riot in the Master's Hall    263
+    IX.  At Lover's Leap                  276
+     X.  A Night Hawk                     284
+    XI.  The Beat of a Sparrow's Wing     297
+   XII.  At the Dawn of Day               305
+
+BOOK IV
+
+THE KU KLUX KLAN
+
+CHAPTER                                  PAGE
+     I.  The Hunt for the Animal          309
+    II.  The Fiery Cross                  318
+   III.  The Parting of the Ways          327
+    IV.  The Banner of the Dragon         337
+     V.  The Reign of the Klan            341
+    VI.  The Counter Stroke               351
+   VII.  The Snare of the Fowler          358
+  VIII.  A Ride for a Life                362
+    IX.  "Vengeance Is Mine"              369
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+LEADING CHARACTERS OF THE STORY
+
+Scene: Washington and the Foothills of the Carolinas.
+
+Time: 1865 to 1870.
+
+Ben Cameron              Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan
+Margaret                                       His Sister
+Mrs. Cameron                                   His Mother
+Dr. Richard Cameron                            His Father
+Hon. Austin Stoneman           Radical Leader of Congress
+Phil                                              His Son
+Elsie                                        His Daughter
+Marion Lenoir                            Ben's First Love
+Mrs. Lenoir                                    Her Mother
+Jake                                       A Faithful Man
+Silas Lynch                            A Negro Missionary
+Uncle Aleck                        The Member from Ulster
+Cindy                                            His Wife
+Colonel Howle                             A Carpet-bagger
+Augustus Caesar                         Of the Black Guard
+Charles Sumner                           Of Massachusetts
+Gen. Benjamin F. Butler                    Of Fort Fisher
+Andrew Johnson                              The President
+U. S. Grant                        The Commanding General
+Abraham Lincoln                   The Friend of the South
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+THE CLANSMAN
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+Book I--The Assassination
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE BRUISED REED
+
+
+The fair girl who was playing a banjo and singing to the wounded soldiers
+suddenly stopped, and, turning to the surgeon, whispered:
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"It sounds like a mob----"
+
+With a common impulse they moved to the open window of the hospital and
+listened.
+
+On the soft spring air came the roar of excited thousands sweeping down
+the avenue from the Capitol toward the White House. Above all rang the
+cries of struggling newsboys screaming an "Extra." One of them darted
+around the corner, his shrill voice quivering with excitement:
+
+"_Extra! Extra! Peace! Victory!_"
+
+Windows were suddenly raised, women thrust their heads out, and others
+rushed into the street and crowded around the boy, struggling to get his
+papers. He threw them right and left and snatched the money--no one asked
+for change. Without ceasing rose his cry:
+
+"_Extra! Peace! Victory! Lee has surrendered!_"
+
+At last the end had come.
+
+The great North, with its millions of sturdy people and their exhaustless
+resources, had greeted the first shot on Sumter with contempt and
+incredulity. A few regiments went forward for a month's outing to settle
+the trouble. The Thirteenth Brooklyn marched gayly Southward on a thirty
+days' jaunt, with pieces of rope conspicuously tied to their muskets with
+which to bring back each man a Southern prisoner to be led in a noose
+through the streets on their early triumphant return! It would be unkind
+to tell what became of those ropes when they suddenly started back home
+ahead of the scheduled time from the first battle of Bull Run.
+
+People from the South, equally wise, marched gayly North, to whip five
+Yankees each before breakfast, and encountered unforeseen difficulties.
+
+Both sides had things to learn, and learned them in a school whose logic
+is final--a four years' course in the University of Hell--the scream of
+eagles, the howl of wolves, the bay of tigers, the roar of lions--all
+locked in Death's embrace, and each mad scene lit by the glare of
+volcanoes of savage passions!
+
+But the long agony was over.
+
+The city bells began to ring. The guns of the forts joined the chorus, and
+their deep steel throats roared until the earth trembled.
+
+Just across the street a mother who was reading the fateful news turned
+and suddenly clasped a boy to her heart, crying for joy. The last draft of
+half a million had called for him.
+
+The Capital of the Nation was shaking off the long nightmare of horror and
+suspense. More than once the city had shivered at the mercy of those
+daring men in gray, and the reveille of their drums had startled even the
+President at his desk.
+
+Again and again had the destiny of the Republic hung on the turning of a
+hair, and in every crisis, Luck, Fate, God, had tipped the scale for the
+Union.
+
+A procession of more than five hundred Confederate deserters, who had
+crossed the lines in groups, swung into view, marching past the hospital,
+indifferent to the tumult. Only a nominal guard flanked them as they
+shuffled along, tired, ragged, and dirty. The gray in their uniforms was
+now the colour of clay. Some had on blue pantaloons, some, blue vests,
+others blue coats captured on the field of blood. Some had pieces of
+carpet, and others old bags around their shoulders. They had been passing
+thus for weeks. Nobody paid any attention to them.
+
+"One of the secrets of the surrender!" exclaimed Doctor Barnes. "Mr.
+Lincoln has been at the front for the past weeks with offers of peace and
+mercy, if they would lay down their arms. The great soul of the President,
+even the genius of Lee could not resist. His smile began to melt those
+gray ranks as the sun is warming the earth to-day."
+
+"You are a great admirer of the President," said the girl, with a curious
+smile.
+
+"Yes, Miss Elsie, and so are all who know him."
+
+She turned from the window without reply. A shadow crossed her face as she
+looked past the long rows of cots, on which rested the men in blue, until
+her eyes found one on which lay, alone among his enemies, a young
+Confederate officer.
+
+The surgeon turned with her toward the man.
+
+"Will he live?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, only to be hung."
+
+"For what?" she cried.
+
+"Sentenced by court-martial as a guerilla. It's a lie, but there's some
+powerful hand back of it--some mysterious influence in high authority. The
+boy wasn't fully conscious at the trial."
+
+"We must appeal to Mr. Stanton."
+
+"As well appeal to the devil. They say the order came from his office."
+
+"A boy of nineteen!" she exclaimed. "It's a shame. I'm looking for his
+mother. You told me to telegraph to Richmond for her."
+
+"Yes, I'll never forget his cries that night, so utterly pitiful and
+childlike. I've heard many a cry of pain, but in all my life nothing so
+heartbreaking as that boy in fevered delirium talking to his mother. His
+voice is one of peculiar tenderness, penetrating and musical. It goes
+quivering into your soul, and compels you to listen until you swear it's
+your brother or sweetheart or sister or mother calling you. You should
+have seen him the day he fell. God of mercies, the pity and the glory of
+it!"
+
+[Illustration: "YOUR BROTHER SPRANG FORWARD AND CAUGHT HIM IN HIS ARMS."]
+
+"Phil wrote me that he was a hero and asked me to look after him. Were you
+there?"
+
+"Yes, with the battery your brother was supporting. He was the colonel of
+a shattered rebel regiment lying just in front of us before Petersburg.
+Richmond was doomed, resistance was madness, but there they were, ragged
+and half starved, a handful of men, not more than four hundred, but their
+bayonets gleamed and flashed in the sunlight. In the face of a murderous
+fire he charged and actually drove our men out of an entrenchment. We
+concentrated our guns on him as he crouched behind this earthwork. Our own
+men lay outside in scores, dead, dying, and wounded. When the fire
+slacked, we could hear their cries for water.
+
+"Suddenly this boy sprang on the breastwork. He was dressed in a new gray
+colonel's uniform that mother of his, in the pride of her soul, had sent
+him.
+
+"He was a handsome figure--tall, slender, straight, a gorgeous yellow sash
+tasselled with gold around his waist, his sword flashing in the sun, his
+slouch hat cocked on one side and an eagle's feather in it.
+
+"We thought he was going to lead another charge, but just as the battery
+was making ready to fire he deliberately walked down the embankment in a
+hail of musketry and began to give water to our wounded men.
+
+"Every gun ceased firing, and we watched him. He walked back to the
+trench, his naked sword flashed suddenly above that eagle's feather, and
+his grizzled ragamuffins sprang forward and charged us like so many
+demons.
+
+"There were not more than three hundred of them now, but on they came,
+giving that hellish rebel yell at every jump--the cry of the hunter from
+the hilltop at the sight of his game! All Southern men are hunters, and
+that cry was transformed in war into something unearthly when it came from
+a hundred throats in chorus and the game was human.
+
+"Of course, it was madness. We blew them down that hill like chaff before
+a hurricane. When the last man had staggered back or fallen, on came this
+boy alone, carrying the colours he had snatched from a falling soldier, as
+if he were leading a million men to victory.
+
+"A bullet had blown his hat from his head, and we could see the blood
+streaming down the side of his face. He charged straight into the jaws of
+one of our guns. And then, with a smile on his lips and a dare to death in
+his big brown eyes, he rammed that flag into the cannon's mouth, reeled,
+and fell! A cheer broke from our men.
+
+"Your brother sprang forward and caught him in his arms, and as we bent
+over the unconscious form, he exclaimed: 'My God, doctor, look at him! He
+is so much like me I feel as if I had been shot myself!' They were as much
+alike as twins--only his hair was darker. I tell you, Miss Elsie, it's a
+sin to kill men like that. One such man is worth more to this nation than
+every negro that ever set his flat foot on this continent!"
+
+The girl's eyes had grown dim as she listened to the story.
+
+"I will appeal to the President," she said firmly.
+
+"It's the only chance. And just now he is under tremendous pressure. His
+friendly order to the Virginia Legislature to return to Richmond, Stanton
+forced him to cancel. A master hand has organized a conspiracy in Congress
+to crush the President. They curse his policy of mercy as imbecility, and
+swear to make the South a second Poland. Their watchwords are vengeance
+and confiscation. Four fifths of his party in Congress are in this plot.
+The President has less than a dozen real friends in either House on whom
+he can depend. They say that Stanton is to be given a free hand, and that
+the gallows will be busy. This cancelled order of the President looks like
+it."
+
+"I'll try my hand with Mr. Stanton," she said with slow emphasis.
+
+"Good luck, Little Sister--let me know if I can help," the surgeon
+answered cheerily as he passed on his round of work.
+
+Elsie Stoneman took her seat beside the cot of the wounded Confederate and
+began softly to sing and play.
+
+A little farther along the same row a soldier was dying, a faint choking
+just audible in his throat. An attendant sat beside him and would not
+leave till the last. The ordinary chat and hum of the ward went on
+indifferent to peace, victory, life, or death. Before the finality of the
+hospital all other events of earth fade. Some were playing cards or
+checkers, some laughing and joking, and others reading.
+
+At the first soft note from the singer the games ceased, and the reader
+put down his book.
+
+The banjo had come to Washington with the negroes following the wake of
+the army. She had laid aside her guitar and learned to play all the
+stirring camp songs of the South. Her voice was low, soothing, and tender.
+It held every silent listener in a spell.
+
+As she played and sang the songs the wounded man loved, her eyes lingered
+in pity on his sun-bronzed face, pinched and drawn with fever. He was
+sleeping the stupid sleep that gives no rest. She could count the
+irregular pounding of his heart in the throb of the big vein on his neck.
+His lips were dry and burnt, and the little boyish moustache curled upward
+from the row of white teeth as if scorched by the fiery breath.
+
+He began to talk in flighty sentences, and she listened--his mother--his
+sister--and yes, she was sure as she bent nearer--a little sweetheart who
+lived next door. They all had sweethearts--these Southern boys. Again he
+was teasing his dog--and then back in battle.
+
+At length he opened his eyes, great dark-brown eyes, unnaturally bright,
+with a strange yearning look in their depths as they rested on Elsie. He
+tried to smile and feebly said:
+
+"Here's--a--fly--on--my--left--ear--my--guns--can't--somehow--
+reach--him--won't--you--"
+
+She sprang forward and brushed the fly away.
+
+Again he opened his eyes.
+
+"Excuse--me--for--asking--but am I alive?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," was the cheerful answer.
+
+"Well, now, then, is this me, or is it not me, or has a cannon shot me, or
+has the devil got me?"
+
+"It's you. The cannon didn't shoot you, but three muskets did. The devil
+hasn't got you yet, but he will unless you're good."
+
+"I'll be good if you won't leave me----"
+
+Elsie turned her head away smiling, and he went on slowly:
+
+"But I'm dead, I know. I'm sleeping on a cot with a canopy over it. I
+ain't hungry any more, and an angel has been hovering over me playing on a
+harp of gold----"
+
+"Only a little Yankee girl playing the banjo."
+
+"Can't fool me--I'm in heaven."
+
+"You're in the hospital."
+
+"Funny hospital--look at that harp and that big trumpet hanging close by
+it--that's Gabriel's trumpet----"
+
+"No," she laughed. "This is the Patent Office building, that covers two
+blocks, now a temporary hospital. There are seventy thousand wounded
+soldiers in town, and more coming on every train. The thirty-five
+hospitals are overcrowded."
+
+He closed his eyes a moment in silence, and then spoke with a feeble
+tremor:
+
+"I'm afraid you don't know who I am--I can't impose on you--I'm a
+rebel----"
+
+"Yes, I know. You are Colonel Ben Cameron. It makes no difference to me
+now which side you fought on."
+
+"Well, I'm in heaven--been dead a long time. I can prove it, if you'll
+play again."
+
+"What shall I play?"
+
+"First, '_O Jonny Booker Help dis Nigger_.'"
+
+She played and sang it beautifully.
+
+"Now, '_Wake Up in the Morning_.'"
+
+Again he listened with wide, staring eyes that saw nothing except visions
+within.
+
+"Now, then, '_The Ole Gray Hoss_.'"
+
+As the last notes died away he tried to smile again:
+
+"One more--'_Hard Times an' Wuss er Comin'_.'"
+
+With deft, sure touch and soft negro dialect she sang it through.
+
+"Now, didn't I tell you that you couldn't fool me? No Yankee girl could
+play and sing these songs, I'm in heaven, and you're an angel."
+
+"Aren't you ashamed of yourself to flirt with me, with one foot in the
+grave?"
+
+"That's the time to get on good terms with the angels--but I'm done
+dead----"
+
+Elsie laughed in spite of herself.
+
+"I know it," he went on, "because you have shining golden hair and amber
+eyes instead of blue ones. I never saw a girl in my life before with such
+eyes and hair."
+
+"But you're young yet."
+
+"Never--was--such--a--girl--on--earth--you're--an----"
+
+She lifted her finger in warning, and his eyelids drooped In exhausted
+stupor.
+
+"You musn't talk any more," she whispered, shaking her head.
+
+A commotion at the door caused Elsie to turn from the cot. A sweet
+motherly woman of fifty, in an old faded black dress, was pleading with
+the guard to be allowed to pass.
+
+"Can't do it, m'um. It's agin the rules."
+
+"But I must go in. I've tramped for four days through a wilderness of
+hospitals, and I know he must be here."
+
+"Special orders, m'um--wounded rebels in here that belong in prison."
+
+"Very well, young man," said the pleading voice. "My baby boy's in this
+place, wounded and about to die. I'm going in there. You can shoot me if
+you like, or you can turn your head the other way."
+
+She stepped quickly past the soldier, who merely stared with dim eyes out
+the door and saw nothing.
+
+She stood for a moment with a look of helpless bewilderment. The vast area
+of the second story of the great monolithic pile was crowded with rows of
+sick, wounded, and dying men--a strange, solemn, and curious sight.
+Against the walls were ponderous glass cases, filled with models of every
+kind of invention the genius of man had dreamed. Between these cases were
+deep lateral openings, eight feet wide, crowded with the sick, and long
+rows of them were stretched through the centre of the hall. A gallery ran
+around above the cases, and this was filled with cots. The clatter of the
+feet of passing surgeons and nurses over the marble floor added to the
+weird impression.
+
+Elsie saw the look of helpless appeal in the mother's face and hurried
+forward to meet her:
+
+"Is this Mrs. Cameron, of South Carolina?"
+
+The trembling figure in black grasped her hand eagerly:
+
+"Yes, yes, my dear, and I'm looking for my boy, who is wounded unto death.
+Can you help me?"
+
+"I thought I recognized you from a miniature I've seen," she answered
+softly. "I'll lead you direct to his cot."
+
+"Thank you, thank you!" came the low reply.
+
+In a moment she was beside him, and Elsie walked away to the open window
+through which came the chirp of sparrows from the lilac bushes in full
+bloom below.
+
+The mother threw one look of infinite tenderness on the drawn face, and
+her hands suddenly clasped in prayer:
+
+"I thank Thee, Lord Jesus, for this hour! Thou hast heard the cry of my
+soul and led my feet!" She gently knelt, kissed the hot lips, smoothed the
+dark tangled hair back from his forehead, and her hand rested over his
+eyes.
+
+A faint flush tinged his face.
+
+"It's you,
+Mamma--I--know--you--that's--your--hand--or--else--it's--God's!"
+
+She slipped her arms about him.
+
+"My hero, my darling, my baby!"
+
+"I'll get well now, Mamma, never fear. You see, I had whipped them
+that day as I had many a time before. I don't know how it happened--my
+men seemed all to go down at once. You know--I couldn't surrender in
+that new uniform of a colonel you sent me--we made a gallant fight,
+and--now--I'm--just--a--little--tired--but you are here, and it's all
+right."
+
+"Yes, yes, dear. It's all over now. General Lee has surrendered, and when
+you are better I'll take you home, where the sunshine and flowers will
+give you strength again."
+
+"How's my little sis?"
+
+"Hunting in another part of the city for you. She's grown so tall and
+stately you'll hardly know her. Your papa is at home, and don't know yet
+that you are wounded."
+
+"And my sweetheart, Marion Lenoir?"
+
+"The most beautiful little girl in Piedmont--as sweet and mischievous as
+ever. Mr. Lenoir is very ill, but he has written a glorious poem about one
+of your charges. I'll show it to you to-morrow. He is our greatest poet.
+The South worships him. Marion sent her love to you and a kiss for the
+young hero of Piedmont. I'll give it to you now."
+
+She bent again and kissed him.
+
+"And my dogs?"
+
+"General Sherman left them, at least."
+
+"Well, I'm glad of that--my mare all right?"
+
+"Yes, but we had a time to save her--Jake hid her in the woods till the
+army passed."
+
+"Bully for Jake."
+
+"I don't know what we should have done without him."
+
+"Old Aleck still at home and getting drunk as usual?"
+
+"No, he ran away with the army and persuaded every negro on the Lenoir
+place to go, except his wife, Aunt Cindy."
+
+"The old rascal, when Mrs. Lenoir's mother saved him from burning to death
+when he was a boy!"
+
+"Yes, and he told the Yankees those fire scars were made with the lash,
+and led a squad to the house one night to burn the barns. Jake headed them
+off and told on him. The soldiers were so mad they strung him up and
+thrashed him nearly to death. We haven't seen him since."
+
+"Well, I'll take care of you, Mamma, when I get home. Of course I'll get
+well. It's absurd to die at nineteen. You know I never believed the bullet
+had been moulded that could hit me. In three years of battle I lived a
+charmed life and never got a scratch."
+
+His voice had grown feeble and laboured, and his face flushed. His mother
+placed her hand on his lips.
+
+"Just one more," he pleaded feebly. "Did you see the little angel who has
+been playing and singing for me? You must thank her."
+
+"Yes, I see her coming now. I must go and tell Margaret, and we will get a
+pass and come every day."
+
+She kissed him, and went to meet Elsie.
+
+"And you are the dear girl who has been playing and singing for my boy, a
+wounded stranger here alone among his foes?"
+
+"Yes, and for all the others, too."
+
+Mrs. Cameron seized both of her hands and looked at her tenderly.
+
+"You will let me kiss you? I shall always love you."
+
+She pressed Elsie to her heart. In spite of the girl's reserve, a sob
+caught her breath at the touch of the warm lips. Her own mother had died
+when she was a baby, and a shy, hungry heart, long hidden from the world,
+leaped in tenderness and pain to meet that embrace.
+
+Elsie walked with her to the door, wondering how the terrible truth of her
+boy's doom could be told.
+
+She tried to speak, looked into Mrs. Cameron's face, radiant with grateful
+joy, and the words froze on her lips. She decided to walk a little way
+with her. But the task became all the harder.
+
+At the corner she stopped abruptly and bade her good-bye:
+
+"I must leave you now, Mrs. Cameron. I will call for you in the morning
+and help you secure the passes to enter the hospital."
+
+The mother stroked the girl's hand and held it lingeringly.
+
+"How good you are," she said softly. "And you have not told me your
+name?"
+
+Elsie hesitated and said:
+
+"That's a little secret. They call me Sister Elsie, the Banjo Maid, in the
+hospitals. My father is a man of distinction. I should be annoyed if my
+full name were known. I'm Elsie Stoneman. My father is the leader of the
+House. I live with my aunt."
+
+"Thank you," she whispered, pressing her hand.
+
+Elsie watched the dark figure disappear in the crowd with a strange tumult
+of feeling.
+
+The mention of her father had revived the suspicion that he was the
+mysterious power threatening the policy of the President and planning a
+reign of terror for the South. Next to the President, he was the most
+powerful man in Washington, and the unrelenting foe of Mr. Lincoln,
+although the leader of his party in Congress, which he ruled with a rod of
+iron. He was a man of fierce and terrible resentments. And yet, in his
+personal life, to those he knew, he was generous and considerate. "Old
+Austin Stoneman, the Great Commoner," he was called, and his name was one
+to conjure with in the world of deeds. To this fair girl he was the
+noblest Roman of them all, her ideal of greatness. He was an indulgent
+father, and while not demonstrative, loved his children with passionate
+devotion.
+
+She paused and looked up at the huge marble columns that seemed each a
+sentinel beckoning her to return within to the cot that held a wounded
+foe. The twilight had deepened, and the soft light of the rising moon had
+clothed the solemn majesty of the building with shimmering tenderness and
+beauty.
+
+"Why should I be distressed for one, an enemy, among these thousands who
+have fallen?" she asked herself. Every detail of the scene she had passed
+through with him and his mother stood out in her soul with startling
+distinctness--and the horror of his doom cut with the deep sense of
+personal anguish.
+
+"He shall not die," she said, with sudden resolution. "I'll take his
+mother to the President. He can't resist her. I'll send for Phil to help
+me."
+
+She hurried to the telegraph office and summoned her brother.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE GREAT HEART
+
+
+The next morning, when Elsie reached the obscure boarding-house at which
+Mrs. Cameron stopped, the mother had gone to the market to buy a bunch of
+roses to place beside her boy's cot.
+
+As Elsie awaited her return, the practical little Yankee maid thought with
+a pang of the tenderness and folly of such people. She knew this mother
+had scarcely enough to eat, but to her bread was of small importance,
+flowers necessary to life. After all, it was very sweet, this foolishness
+of these Southern people, and it somehow made her homesick.
+
+"How can I tell her!" she sighed. "And yet I must."
+
+She had only waited a moment when Mrs. Cameron suddenly entered with her
+daughter. She threw her flowers on the table, sprang forward to meet
+Elsie, seized her hands and called to Margaret.
+
+"How good of you to come so soon! This, Margaret, is our dear little
+friend who has been so good to Ben and to me."
+
+Margaret took Elsie's hand and longed to throw her arms around her neck,
+but something in the quiet dignity of the Northern girl's manner held her
+back. She only smiled tenderly through her big dark eyes, and softly
+said:
+
+"We love you! Ben was my last brother. We were playmates and chums. My
+heart broke when he ran away to the front. How can we thank you and your
+brother!"
+
+"I'm sure we've done nothing more than you would have done for us," said
+Elsie, as Mrs. Cameron left the room.
+
+"Yes, I know, but we can never tell you how grateful we are to you. We
+feel that you have saved Ben's life and ours. The war has been one long
+horror to us since my first brother was killed. But now it's over, and we
+have Ben left, and our hearts have been crying for joy all night."
+
+"I hoped my brother, Captain Phil Stoneman, would be here to-day to meet
+you and help me, but he can't reach Washington before Friday."
+
+"He caught Ben in his arms!" cried Margaret. "I know he's brave, and you
+must be proud of him."
+
+"Doctor Barnes says they are as much alike as twins--only Phil is not
+quite so tall and has blond hair like mine."
+
+"You will let me see him and thank him the moment he comes?"
+
+"Hurry, Margaret!" cheerily cried Mrs. Cameron, reentering the parlour.
+"Get ready; we must go at once to the hospital."
+
+Margaret turned and with stately grace hurried from the room. The old
+dress she wore as unconscious of its shabbiness as though it were a royal
+robe.
+
+"And now, my dear, what must I do to get the passes?" asked the mother
+eagerly.
+
+Elsie's warm amber eyes grew misty for a moment, and the fair skin with
+its gorgeous rose tints of the North paled. She hesitated, tried to speak,
+and was silent.
+
+The sensitive soul of the Southern woman read the message of sorrow words
+had not framed.
+
+"Tell me, quickly! The
+doctor--has--not--concealed--his--true--condition--from--me?"
+
+"No, he is certain to recover."
+
+"What then?"
+
+"Worse--he is condemned to death by court-martial."
+
+"Condemned to death--a--wounded--prisoner--of--war!" she whispered slowly,
+with blanched face.
+
+"Yes, he was accused of violating the rules of war as a guerilla raider in
+the invasion of Pennsylvania."
+
+"Absurd and monstrous! He was on General Jeb Stuart's staff and could have
+acted only under his orders. He joined the infantry after Stuart's death,
+and rose to be a colonel, though but a boy. There's some terrible
+mistake!"
+
+"Unless we can obtain his pardon," Elsie went on in even, restrained
+tones, "there is no hope. We must appeal to the President."
+
+The mother's lips trembled, and she seemed about to faint.
+
+"Could I see the President?" she asked, recovering herself with an
+effort.
+
+"He has just reached Washington from the front, and is thronged by
+thousands. It will be difficult."
+
+The mother's lips were moving in silent prayer, and her eyes were tightly
+closed to keep back the tears.
+
+"Can you help me, dear?" she asked piteously.
+
+"Yes," was the quick response.
+
+"You see," she went on, "I feel so helpless. I have never been to the
+White House or seen the President, and I don't know how to go about seeing
+him or how to ask him--and--I am afraid of Mr. Lincoln! I have heard so
+many harsh things said of him."
+
+"I'll do my best, Mrs. Cameron. We must go at once to the White House and
+try to see him."
+
+The mother lifted the girl's hand and stroked it gently.
+
+"We will not tell Margaret. Poor child! she could not endure this. When we
+return, we may have better news. It can't be worse. I'll send her on an
+errand."
+
+She took up the bouquet of gorgeous roses with a sigh, buried her face in
+the fresh perfume, as if to gain strength in their beauty and fragrance,
+and left the room.
+
+In a few moments she had returned and was on her way with Elsie to the
+White House.
+
+It was a beautiful spring morning, this eleventh day of April, 1865. The
+glorious sunshine, the shimmering green of the grass, the warm breezes,
+and the shouts of victory mocked the mother's anguish.
+
+At the White House gates they passed the blue sentry pacing silently back
+and forth, who merely glanced at them with keen eyes and said nothing. In
+the steady beat of his feet the mother could hear the tramp of soldiers
+leading her boy to the place of death!
+
+A great lump rose in her throat as she caught the first view of the
+Executive Mansion gleaming white and silent and ghostlike among the
+budding trees. The tall columns of the great facade, spotless as snow, the
+spray of the fountain, the marble walls, pure, dazzling, and cold, seemed
+to her the gateway to some great tomb in which her own dead and the dead
+of all the people lay! To her the fair white palace, basking there in the
+sunlight and budding grass, shrub, and tree, was the Judgment House of
+Fate. She thought of all the weary feet that had climbed its fateful steps
+in hope to return in despair, of its fierce dramas on which the lives of
+millions had hung, and her heart grew sick.
+
+A long line of people already stretched from the entrance under the
+portico far out across the park, awaiting their turn to see the
+President.
+
+Mrs. Cameron placed her hand falteringly on Elsie's shoulder.
+
+"Look, my dear, what a crowd already! Must we wait in line?"
+
+"No, I can get you past the throng with my father's name."
+
+"Will it be very difficult to reach the President?"
+
+"No, it's very easy. Guards and sentinels annoy him. He frets until they
+are removed. An assassin or maniac could kill him almost any hour of the
+day or night. The doors are open at all hours, very late at night. I have
+often walked up to the rooms of his secretaries as late as nine o'clock
+without being challenged by a soul."
+
+"What must I call him? Must I say 'Your Excellency?'"
+
+"By no means--he hates titles and forms. You should say 'Mr. President' in
+addressing him. But you will please him best if, in your sweet, homelike
+way, you will just call him by his name. You can rely on his sympathy.
+Read this letter of his to a widow. I brought it to show you."
+
+She handed Mrs. Cameron a newspaper clipping on which was printed Mr.
+Lincoln's letter to Mrs. Bixby, of Boston, who had lost five sons in the
+war.
+
+Over and over she read its sentences until they echoed as solemn music in
+her soul:
+
+"I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should
+attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I
+cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the
+thanks of the republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father
+may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the
+cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be
+yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.
+
+"Yours very sincerely and respectfully,
+
+"ABRAHAM LINCOLN."
+
+"And the President paused amid a thousand cares to write that letter to a
+broken-hearted woman?" the mother asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then he is good down to the last secret depths of a great heart! Only a
+Christian father could have written that letter. I shall not be afraid to
+speak to him. And they told me he was an infidel!"
+
+Elsie led her by a private way past the crowd and into the office of Major
+Hay, the President's private secretary. A word from the Great Commoner's
+daughter admitted them at once to the President's room.
+
+"Just take a seat on one side, Miss Elsie," said Major Hay; "watch your
+first opportunity and introduce your friend."
+
+On entering the room, Mrs. Cameron could not see the President, who was
+seated at his desk surrounded by three men in deep consultation over a
+mass of official documents.
+
+She looked about the room nervously and felt reassured by its plain
+aspect. It was a medium-sized, officelike place, with no signs of elegance
+or ceremony. Mr. Lincoln was seated in an armchair beside a high
+writing-desk and table combined. She noticed that his feet were large and
+that they rested on a piece of simple straw matting. Around the room were
+sofas and chairs covered with green worsted.
+
+When the group about the chair parted a moment, she caught the first
+glimpse of the man who held her life in the hollow of his hand. She
+studied him with breathless interest. His back was still turned. Even
+while seated, she saw that he was a man of enormous stature, fully six
+feet four inches tall, legs and arms abnormally long, and huge broad
+shoulders slightly stooped. His head was powerful and crowned with a mass
+of heavy brown hair, tinged with silver.
+
+He turned his head slightly and she saw his profile set in its short dark
+beard--the broad intellectual brow, half covered by unmanageable hair, his
+face marked with deep-cut lines of life and death, with great hollows in
+the cheeks and under the eyes. In the lines which marked the corners of
+his mouth she could see firmness, and his beetling brows and unusually
+heavy eyelids looked stern and formidable. Her heart sank. She looked
+again and saw goodness, tenderness, sorrow, canny shrewdness, and a
+strange lurking smile all haunting his mouth and eye.
+
+Suddenly he threw himself forward in his chair, wheeled and faced one of
+his tormentors with a curious and comical expression. With one hand
+patting the other, and a funny look overspreading his face, he said:
+
+"My friend, let me tell you something----"
+
+The man again stepped before him, and she could hear nothing. When the
+story was finished, the man tried to laugh. It died in a feeble effort.
+But the President laughed heartily, laughed all over, and laughed his
+visitors out of the room.
+
+Mrs. Cameron turned toward Elsie with a mute look of appeal to give her
+this moment of good-humour in which to plead her cause, but before she
+could move a man of military bearing suddenly stepped before the
+President.
+
+He began to speak, but seeing the look of stern decision in Mr. Lincoln's
+face, turned abruptly and said:
+
+"Mr. President, I see you are fully determined not to do me justice!"
+
+Mr. Lincoln slightly compressed his lips, rose quietly, seized the
+intruder by the arm, and led him toward the door.
+
+"This is the third time you have forced your presence on me, sir, asking
+that I reverse the just sentence of a court-martial, dismissing you from
+the service. I told you my decision was carefully made and was final. Now
+I give you fair warning never to show yourself in this room again. I can
+bear censure, but I will not endure insult!"
+
+In whining tones the man begged for his papers he had dropped.
+
+"Begone, sir," said the President, as he thrust him through the door.
+"Your papers will be sent to you."
+
+The poor mother trembled at this startling act and sank back limp in her
+seat.
+
+With quick, swinging stride the President walked back to his desk,
+accompanied by Major Hay and a young German girl, whose simple dress told
+that she was from the Western plains.
+
+He handed the secretary an official paper.
+
+"Give this pardon to the boy's mother when she comes this morning," he
+said kindly to the secretary, his eyes suddenly full of gentleness.
+
+"How could I consent to shoot a boy raised on a farm, in the habit of
+going to bed at dark, for falling asleep at his post when required to
+watch all night? I'll never go into eternity with the blood of such a boy
+on my skirts."
+
+Again the mother's heart rose.
+
+"You remember the young man I pardoned for a similar offence in '62, about
+which Stanton made such a fuss?" he went on in softly reminiscent tones.
+"Well, here is that pardon."
+
+He drew from the lining of his silk hat a photograph, around which was
+wrapped an executive pardon. Through the lower end of it was a bullet-hole
+stained with blood.
+
+"I got this in Richmond. They found him dead on the field. He fell in the
+front ranks with my photograph in his pocket next to his heart, this
+pardon wrapped around it, and on the back of it in his boy's scrawl, '_God
+bless Abraham Lincoln_.' I love to invest in bonds like that."
+
+The secretary returned to his room, the girl who was waiting stepped
+forward, and the President rose to receive her.
+
+The mother's quick eye noted, with surprise, the simple dignity and
+chivalry of manner with which he received this humble woman of the
+people.
+
+With straightforward eloquence the girl poured out her story, begging for
+the pardon of her young brother who had been sentenced to death as a
+deserter. He listened in silence.
+
+How pathetic the deep melancholy of his sad face! Yes, she was sure, the
+saddest face that God ever made in all the world! Her own stricken heart
+for a moment went out to him in sympathy.
+
+The President took off his spectacles, wiped his forehead with the large
+red silk handkerchief he carried, and his eyes twinkled kindly down into
+the good German face.
+
+"You seem an honest, truthful, sweet girl," he said, "and"--he
+smiled--"you don't wear hoop skirts! I may be whipped for this, but I'll
+trust you and your brother, too. He shall be pardoned." Elsie rose to
+introduce Mrs. Cameron, when a Congressman from Massachusetts suddenly
+stepped before her and pressed for the pardon of a slave trader whose ship
+had been confiscated. He had spent five years in prison, but could not pay
+the heavy fine in money imposed.
+
+The President had taken his seat again, and read the eloquent appeal for
+mercy. He looked up over his spectacles, fixed his eyes piercingly on the
+Congressman and said:
+
+"This is a moving appeal, sir, expressed with great eloquence. I might
+pardon a murderer under the spell of such words, but a man who can make a
+business of going to Africa and robbing her of her helpless children and
+selling them into bondage--no, sir--he may rot in jail before he shall
+have liberty by any act of mine!"
+
+Again the mother's heart sank.
+
+Her hour had come. She must put the issue of life or death to the test,
+and as Elsie rose and stepped quickly forward, she followed; nerving
+herself for the ordeal.
+
+The President took Elsie's hand familiarly and smiled without rising.
+Evidently she was well known to him.
+
+"Will you hear the prayer of a broken-hearted mother of the South, who has
+lost four sons in General Lee's army?" she asked.
+
+Looking quietly past the girl, he caught sight, for the first time, of the
+faded dress and the sorrow-shadowed face.
+
+He was on his feet in a moment, extended his hand and led her to a chair.
+
+"Take this seat, Madam, and then tell me in your own way what I can do for
+you." In simple words, mighty with the eloquence of a mother's heart, she
+told her story and asked for the pardon of her boy, promising his word of
+honour and her own that he would never again take up arms against the
+Union.
+
+"The war is over now, Mr. Lincoln," she said, "and we have lost all. Can
+you conceive the desolation of _my_ heart? My four boys were noble men.
+They may have been wrong, but they fought for what they believed to be
+right. You, too, have lost a boy."
+
+The President's eyes grew dim.
+
+"Yes, a beautiful boy----" he said simply.
+
+"Well, mine are all gone but this baby. One of them sleeps in an unmarked
+grave at Gettysburg. One died in a Northern prison. One fell at
+Chancellorsville, one in the Wilderness, and this, my baby, before
+Petersburg. Perhaps I've loved him too much, this last one--he's only a
+child yet----"
+
+"You shall have your boy, my dear Madam," the President said simply,
+seating himself and writing a brief order to the Secretary of War.
+
+The mother drew near his desk, softly crying. Through her tears she said:
+
+"My heart is heavy, Mr. Lincoln, when I think of all the hard and bitter
+things we have heard of you."
+
+"Well, give my love to the people of South Carolina when you go home, and
+tell them that I am their President, and that I have never forgotten this
+fact in the darkest hours of this awful war; and I am going to do
+everything in my power to help them." "You will never regret this generous
+act," the mother cried with gratitude.
+
+"I reckon not," he answered. "I'll tell you something, Madam, if you won't
+tell anybody. It's a secret of my administration. I'm only too glad of an
+excuse to save a life when I can. Every drop of blood shed in this war
+North and South has been as if it were wrung out of my heart. A strange
+fate decreed that the bloodiest war in human history should be fought
+under my direction. And I--to whom the sight of blood is a sickening
+horror--I have been compelled to look on in silent anguish because I could
+not stop it! Now that the Union is saved, not another drop of blood shall
+be spilled if I can prevent it."
+
+"May God bless you!" the mother cried, as she received from him the
+order.
+
+She held his hand an instant as she took her leave, laughing and sobbing
+in her great joy.
+
+"I must tell you, Mr. President," she said, "how surprised and how pleased
+I am to find you are a Southern man."
+
+"Why, didn't you know that my parents were Virginians, and that I was born
+in Kentucky?"
+
+"Very few people in the South know it. I am ashamed to say I did not."
+
+"Then, how did you know I am a Southerner?"
+
+"By your looks, your manner of speech, your easy, kindly ways, your
+tenderness and humour, your firmness in the right as you see it, and,
+above all, the way you rose and bowed to a woman in an old, faded black
+dress, whom you knew to be an enemy." "No, Madam, not an enemy now," he
+said softly. "That word is out of date."
+
+"If we had only known you in time----"
+
+The President accompanied her to the door with a deference of manner that
+showed he had been deeply touched.
+
+"Take this letter to Mr. Stanton at once," he said. "Some folks complain
+of my pardons, but it rests me after a hard day's work if I can save some
+poor boy's life. I go to bed happy, thinking of the joy I have given to
+those who love him."
+
+As the last words were spoken, a peculiar dreaminess of expression stole
+over his careworn face, as if a throng of gracious memories had lifted for
+a moment the burden of his life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE MAN OF WAR
+
+
+Elsie led Mrs. Cameron direct from the White House to the War Department.
+
+"Well, Mrs. Cameron, what did you think of the President?" she asked.
+
+"I hardly know," was the thoughtful answer. "He is the greatest man I ever
+met. One feels this instinctively."
+
+When Mrs. Cameron was ushered into the Secretary's Office, Mr. Stanton was
+seated at his desk writing.
+
+She handed the order of the President to a clerk, who gave it to the
+Secretary.
+
+He was a man in the full prime of life, intellectual and physical, low and
+heavy set, about five feet eight inches in height and inclined to fat. His
+movements, however, were quick, and as he swung in his chair the keenest
+vigour marked every movement of body and every change of his countenance.
+
+His face was swarthy and covered with a long, dark beard touched with
+gray. He turned a pair of little black piercing eyes on her and without
+rising said:
+
+"So you are the woman who has a wounded son under sentence of death as a
+guerilla?"
+
+"I am so unfortunate," she answered.
+
+"Well, I have nothing to say to you," he went on in a louder and sterner
+tone, "and no time to waste on you. If you have raised up men to rebel
+against the best government under the sun, you can take the
+consequences----"
+
+"But, my dear sir," broke in the mother, "he is a mere boy of nineteen,
+who ran away three years ago and entered the service----"
+
+"I don't want to hear another word from you!" he yelled in rage. "I have
+no time to waste--go at once. I'll do nothing for you."
+
+"But I bring you an order from the President," protested the mother.
+
+"Yes, I know it," he answered with a sneer, "and I'll do with it what I've
+done with many others--see that it is not executed--now go."
+
+"But the President told me you would give me a pass to the hospital, and
+that a full pardon would be issued to my boy!"
+
+"Yes, I see. But let me give you some information. The President is a
+fool--a d---- fool! Now, will you go?"
+
+With a sinking sense of horror, Mrs. Cameron withdrew and reported to
+Elsie the unexpected encounter.
+
+"The brute!" cried the girl. "We'll go back immediately and report this
+insult to the President."
+
+"Why are such men intrusted with power?" the mother sighed.
+
+"It's a mystery to me, I'm sure. They say he is the greatest Secretary of
+War in our history. I don't believe it. Phil hates the sight of him, and
+so does every army officer I know, from General Grant down. I hope Mr.
+Lincoln will expel him from the Cabinet for this insult."
+
+When, they were again ushered into the President's office, Elsie hastened
+to inform him of the outrageous reply the Secretary of War had made to his
+order.
+
+"Did Stanton say that I was a fool?" he asked, with a quizzical look out
+of his kindly eyes.
+
+"Yes, he did," snapped Elsie. "And he repeated it with a blankety
+prefix."
+
+The President looked good-humouredly out of the window toward the War
+Office and musingly said:
+
+"Well, if Stanton says that I am a blankety fool, it must be so, for I
+have found out that he is nearly always right, and generally means what he
+says. I'll just step over and see Stanton."
+
+As he spoke the last sentence, the humour slowly faded from his face, and
+the anxious mother saw back of those patient gray eyes the sudden gleam of
+the courage and conscious power of a lion.
+
+He dismissed them with instructions to return the next day for his final
+orders and walked over to the War Department alone.
+
+The Secretary of War was in one of his ugliest moods, and made no effort
+to conceal it when asked his reasons for the refusal to execute the
+order.
+
+"The grounds for my action are very simple," he said with bitter emphasis.
+"The execution of this traitor is part of a carefully considered policy of
+justice on which the future security of the Nation depends. If I am to
+administer this office, I will not be hamstrung by constant Executive
+interference. Besides, in this particular case, I was urged that justice
+be promptly executed by the most powerful man in Congress. I advise you to
+avoid a quarrel with old Stoneman at this crisis in our history."
+
+The President sat on a sofa with his legs crossed, relapsed into an
+attitude of resignation, and listened in silence until the last sentence,
+when suddenly he sat bolt upright, fixed his deep gray eyes intently on
+Stanton and said:
+
+"Mr. Secretary, I reckon you will have to execute that order."
+
+"I cannot do it," came the firm answer. "It is an interference with
+justice, and I will not execute it."
+
+Mr. Lincoln held his eyes steadily on Stanton and slowly said:
+
+"Mr. Secretary, it will have to be done."
+
+Stanton wheeled in his chair, seized a pen and wrote very rapidly a few
+lines to which he fixed his signature. He rose with the paper in his hand,
+walked to his chief, and with deep emotion said:
+
+"Mr. President, I wish to thank you for your constant friendship during
+the trying years I have held this office. The war is ended, and my work is
+done. I hand you my resignation."
+
+Mr. Lincoln's lips came suddenly together, he slowly rose, and looked down
+with surprise into the flushed angry face.
+
+He took the paper, tore it into pieces, slipped one of his long arms
+around the Secretary, and said in low accents:
+
+"Stanton, you have been a faithful public servant, and it is not for you
+to say when you will no longer be needed. Go on with your work. I will
+have my way in this matter; but I will attend to it personally."
+
+Stanton resumed his seat, and the President returned to the White House.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A CLASH OF GIANTS
+
+
+Elsie secured from the Surgeon-General temporary passes for the day, and
+sent her friends to the hospital with the promise that she would not leave
+the White House until she had secured the pardon.
+
+The President greeted her with unusual warmth. The smile that had only
+haunted his sad face during four years of struggle, defeat, and
+uncertainty had now burst into joy that made his powerful head radiate
+light. Victory had lifted the veil from his soul, and he was girding
+himself for the task of healing the Nation's wounds.
+
+"I'll have it ready for you in a moment, Miss Elsie," he said, touching
+with his sinewy hand a paper which lay on his desk, bearing on its face
+the red seal of the Republic. "I am only waiting to receive the passes."
+
+"I am very grateful to you, Mr. President," the girl said feelingly.
+
+"But tell me," he said, with quaint, fatherly humour, "why you, of all our
+girls, the brightest, fiercest little Yankee in town, so take to heart a
+rebel boy's sorrows?"
+
+Elsie blushed, and then looked at him frankly with a saucy smile.
+
+"I am fulfilling the Commandments."
+
+"Love your enemies?"
+
+"Certainly. How could one help loving the sweet, motherly face you saw
+yesterday."
+
+The President laughed heartily. "I see--of course, of course!"
+
+"The Honourable Austin Stoneman," suddenly announced a clerk at his
+elbow.
+
+Elsie started in surprise and whispered:
+
+"Do not let my father know I am here. I will wait in the next room. You'll
+let nothing delay the pardon, will you, Mr. President?"
+
+Mr. Lincoln warmly pressed her hand as she disappeared through the door
+leading into Major Hay's room, and turned to meet the Great Commoner who
+hobbled slowly in, leaning on his crooked cane.
+
+At this moment he was a startling and portentous figure in the drama of
+the Nation, the most powerful parliamentary leader in American history,
+not excepting Henry Clay.
+
+No stranger ever passed this man without a second look. His clean-shaven
+face, the massive chiselled features, his grim eagle look, and cold,
+colourless eyes, with the frosts of his native Vermont sparkling in their
+depths, compelled attention.
+
+His walk was a painful hobble. He was lame in both feet, and one of them
+was deformed. The left leg ended in a mere bunch of flesh, resembling more
+closely an elephant's hoof than the foot of a man.
+
+He was absolutely bald, and wore a heavy brown wig that seemed too small
+to reach the edge of his enormous forehead.
+
+He rarely visited the White House. He was the able, bold, unscrupulous
+leader of leaders, and men came to see him. He rarely smiled, and when he
+did it was the smile of the cynic and misanthrope. His tongue had the lash
+of a scorpion. He was a greater terror to the trimmers and time-servers of
+his own party than to his political foes. He had hated the President with
+sullen, consistent, and unyielding venom from his first nomination at
+Chicago down to the last rumour of his new proclamation.
+
+In temperament a fanatic, in impulse a born revolutionist, the word
+conservatism was to him as a red rag to a bull. The first clash of arms
+was music to his soul. He laughed at the call for 75,000 volunteers, and
+demanded the immediate equipment of an army of a million men. He saw it
+grow to 2,000,000. From the first, his eagle eye had seen the end and all
+the long, blood-marked way between. And from the first, he began to plot
+the most cruel and awful vengeance in human history.
+
+And now his time had come.
+
+The giant figure in the White House alone had dared to brook his anger and
+block the way; for old Stoneman was the Congress of the United States. The
+opposition was too weak even for his contempt. Cool, deliberate, and
+venomous alike in victory or defeat, the fascination of his positive faith
+and revolutionary programme had drawn the rank and file of his party in
+Congress to him as charmed satellites.
+
+The President greeted him cordially, and with his habitual deference to
+age and physical infirmity hastened to place for him an easy chair near
+his desk.
+
+He was breathing heavily and evidently labouring under great emotion. He
+brought his cane to the floor with violence, placed both hands on its
+crook, leaned his massive jaws on his hands for a moment, and then said:
+
+"Mr. President, I have not annoyed you with many requests during the past
+four years, nor am I here to-day to ask any favours. I have come to warn
+you that, in the course you have mapped out, the executive and legislative
+branches have come to the parting of the ways, and that your encroachments
+on the functions of Congress will be tolerated, now that the Rebellion is
+crushed, not for a single moment!"
+
+Mr. Lincoln listened with dignity, and a ripple of fun played about his
+eyes as he looked at his grim visitor. The two men were face to face at
+last--the two men above all others who had built and were to build the
+foundations of the New Nation--Lincoln's in love and wisdom to endure
+forever, the Great Commoner's in hate and madness, to bear its harvest of
+tragedy and death for generations yet unborn.
+
+"Well, now, Stoneman," began the good-humoured voice, "that puts me in
+mind----"
+
+The old Commoner lifted his hand with a gesture of angry impatience:
+
+"Save your fables for fools. Is it true that you have prepared a
+proclamation restoring the conquered province of North Carolina to its
+place as a State in the Union with no provision for negro suffrage or the
+exile and disfranchisement of its rebels?"
+
+The President rose and walked back and forth with his hands folded behind
+him before answering.
+
+"I have. The Constitution grants to the National Government no power to
+regulate suffrage, and makes no provision for the control of 'conquered
+provinces.'"
+
+"Constitution!" thundered Stoneman. "I have a hundred constitutions in the
+pigeonholes of my desk!"
+
+"I have sworn to support but one."
+
+"A worn-out rag----"
+
+"Rag or silk, I've sworn to execute it, and I'll do it, so help me God!"
+said the quiet voice.
+
+"You've been doing it for the past four years, haven't you!" sneered the
+Commoner. "What right had you under the Constitution to declare war
+against a 'sovereign' State? To invade one for coercion? To blockade a
+port? To declare slaves free? To suspend the writ of _habeas corpus_? To
+create the State of West Virginia by the consent of two states, one of
+which was dead, and the other one of which lived in Ohio? By what
+authority have you appointed military governors in the 'sovereign' States
+of Virginia, Tennessee, and Louisiana? Why trim the hedge and lie about
+it? We, too, are revolutionists, and you are our executive. The
+Constitution sustained and protected slavery. It _was_ 'a league with
+death and a covenant with hell,' and our flag 'a polluted rag!'"
+
+"In the stress of war," said the President, with a far-away look, "it was
+necessary that I do things as Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy to
+save the Union which I have no right to do now that the Union is saved and
+its Constitution preserved. My first duty is to re-establish the
+Constitution as our supreme law over every inch of our soil."
+
+"The Constitution be d----d!" hissed the old man. "It was the creation,
+both in letter and spirit, of the slaveholders of the South."
+
+"Then the world is their debtor, and their work is a monument of
+imperishable glory to them and to their children. I have sworn to preserve
+it!"
+
+"We have outgrown the swaddling clothes of a babe. We will make new
+constitutions!"
+
+"'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,'" softly spoke the tall,
+self-contained man.
+
+For the first time the old leader winced. He had long ago exhausted the
+vocabulary of contempt on the President, his character, ability, and
+policy. He felt as a shock the first impression of supreme authority with
+which he spoke. The man he had despised had grown into the great
+constructive statesman who would dispute with him every inch of ground in
+the attainment of his sinister life purpose.
+
+His hatred grew more intense as he realized the prestige and power with
+which he was clothed by his mighty office.
+
+With an effort he restrained his anger, and assumed an argumentative
+tone.
+
+"Can't you see that your so-called States are now but conquered provinces?
+That North Carolina and other waste territories of the United States are
+unfit to associate with civilized communities?"
+
+"We fought no war of conquest," quietly urged the President, "but one of
+self-preservation as an indissoluble Union. No State ever got out of it,
+by the grace of God and the power of our arms. Now that we have won, and
+established for all time its unity, shall we stultify ourselves by
+declaring we were wrong? These States must be immediately restored to
+their rights, or we shall betray the blood we have shed. There are no
+'conquered provinces' for us to spoil. A nation cannot make conquest of
+its own territory."
+
+"But we are acting outside the Constitution," interrupted Stoneman.
+
+"Congress has no existence outside the Constitution," was the quick
+answer.
+
+The old Commoner scowled, and his beetling brows hid for a moment his
+eyes. His keen intellect was catching its first glimpse of the
+intellectual grandeur of the man with whom he was grappling. The facility
+with which he could see all sides of a question, and the vivid imagination
+which lit his mental processes, were a revelation. We always underestimate
+the men we despise.
+
+"Why not out with it?" cried Stoneman, suddenly changing his tack. "You
+are determined to oppose negro suffrage?"
+
+"I have suggested to Governor Hahn of Louisiana to consider the policy of
+admitting the more intelligent and those who served in the war. It is only
+a suggestion. The State alone has the power to confer the ballot."
+
+"But the truth is this little 'suggestion' of yours is only a bone thrown
+to radical dogs to satisfy our howlings for the moment! In your soul of
+souls you don't believe in the equality of man if the man under comparison
+be a negro?"
+
+"I believe that there is a physical difference between the white and black
+races which will forever forbid their living together on terms of
+political and social equality. If such be attempted, one must go to the
+wall."
+
+"Very well, pin the Southern white man to the wall. Our party and the
+Nation will then be safe."
+
+"That is to say, destroy African slavery and establish white slavery under
+negro masters! That would be progress with a vengeance."
+
+A grim smile twitched the old man's lips as he said:
+
+"Yes, your prim conservative snobs and male waiting-maids in Congress went
+into hysterics when I armed the negroes. Yet the heavens have not
+fallen."
+
+"True. Yet no more insane blunder could now be made than any further
+attempt to use these negro troops. There can be no such thing as restoring
+this Union to its basis of fraternal peace with armed negroes, wearing the
+uniform of this Nation, tramping over the South, and rousing the basest
+passions of the freedmen and their former masters. General Butler, their
+old commander, is now making plans for their removal, at my request. He
+expects to dig the Panama Canal with these black troops."
+
+"Fine scheme that--on a par with your messages to Congress asking for the
+colonization of the whole negro race!"
+
+"It will come to that ultimately," said the President firmly. "The negro
+has cost us $5,000,000,000, the desolation of ten great States, and rivers
+of blood. We can well afford a few million dollars more to effect a
+permanent settlement of the issue. This is the only policy on which Seward
+and I have differed----"
+
+"Then Seward was not an utterly hopeless fool. I'm glad to hear something
+to his credit," growled the old Commoner.
+
+"I have urged the colonization of the negroes, and I shall continue until
+it is accomplished. My emancipation proclamation was linked with this
+plan. Thousands of them have lived in the North for a hundred years, yet
+not one is the pastor of a white church, a judge, a governor, a mayor, or
+a college president. There is no room for two distinct races of white men
+in America, much less for two distinct races of whites and blacks. We can
+have no inferior servile class, peon or peasant. We must assimilate or
+expel. The American is a citizen king or nothing. I can conceive of no
+greater calamity than the assimilation of the negro into our social and
+political life as our equal. A mulatto citizenship would be too dear a
+price to pay even for emancipation."
+
+"Words have no power to express my loathing for such twaddle!" cried
+Stoneman, snapping his great jaws together and pursing his lips with
+contempt.
+
+"If the negro were not here would we allow him to land?" the President
+went on, as if talking to himself. "The duty to exclude carries the right
+to expel. Within twenty years we can peacefully colonize the negro in the
+tropics, and give him our language, literature, religion, and system of
+government under conditions in which he can rise to the full measure of
+manhood. This he can never do here. It was the fear of the black tragedy
+behind emancipation that led the South into the insanity of secession. We
+can never attain the ideal Union our fathers dreamed, with millions of an
+alien, inferior race among us, whose assimilation is neither possible nor
+desirable. The Nation cannot now exist half white and half black, any more
+than it could exist half slave and half free."
+
+"Yet 'God hath made of one blood all races,'" quoted the cynic with a
+sneer.
+
+"Yes--but finish the sentence--'and fixed the bounds of their habitation.'
+God never meant that the negro should leave his habitat or the white man
+invade his home. Our violation of this law is written in two centuries of
+shame and blood. And the tragedy will not be closed until the black man is
+restored to his home."
+
+"I marvel that the minions of slavery elected Jeff Davis their chief with
+so much better material at hand!"
+
+"His election was a tragic and superfluous blunder. I am the President of
+the United States, North and South," was the firm reply.
+
+"Particularly the South!" hissed Stoneman. "During all this hideous war
+they have been your pets--these rebel savages who have been murdering our
+sons. You have been the ever-ready champion of traitors. And you now dare
+to bend this high office to their defence----"
+
+"My God, Stoneman, are you a man or a savage!" cried the President. "Is
+not the North equally responsible for slavery? Has not the South lost all?
+Have not the Southern people paid the full penalty of all the crimes of
+war? Are our skirts free? Was Sherman's march a picnic? This war has been
+a giant conflict of principles to decide whether we are a bundle of petty
+sovereignties held by a rope of sand or a mighty nation of freemen. But
+for the loyalty of four border Southern States--but for Farragut and
+Thomas and their two hundred thousand heroic Southern brethren who fought
+for the Union against their own flesh and blood, we should have lost. You
+cannot indict a people----"
+
+"I do indict them!" muttered the old man.
+
+"Surely," went on the even, throbbing voice, "surely, the vastness of this
+war, its titanic battles, its heroism, its sublime earnestness, should
+sink into oblivion all low schemes of vengeance! Before the sheer grandeur
+of its history our children will walk with silent lips and uncovered
+heads."
+
+"And forget the prison pen at Andersonville!"
+
+"Yes. We refused, as a policy of war, to exchange those prisoners,
+blockaded their ports, made medicine contraband, and brought the Southern
+Army itself to starvation. The prison records, when made at last for
+history, will show as many deaths on our side as on theirs."
+
+"The murderer on the gallows always wins more sympathy than his forgotten
+victim," interrupted the cynic.
+
+"The sin of vengeance is an easy one under the subtle plea of justice,"
+said the sorrowful voice. "Have we not had enough bloodshed? Is not God's
+vengeance enough? When Sherman's army swept to the sea, before him lay the
+Garden of Eden, behind him stretched a desert! A hundred years cannot give
+back to the wasted South her wealth, or two hundred years restore to her
+the lost seed treasures of her young manhood----"
+
+"The imbecility of a policy of mercy in this crisis can only mean the
+reign of treason and violence," persisted the old man, ignoring the
+President's words.
+
+"I leave my policy before the judgment bar of time, content with its
+verdict. In my place, radicalism would have driven the border States into
+the Confederacy, every Southern man back to his kinsmen, and divided the
+North itself into civil conflict. I have sought to guide and control
+public opinion into the ways on which depended our life. This rational
+flexibility of policy you and your fellow radicals have been pleased to
+call my vacillating imbecility."
+
+"And what is your message for the South?"
+
+"Simply this: 'Abolish slavery, come back home, and behave yourself.' Lee
+surrendered to our offers of peace and amnesty. In my last message to
+Congress I told the Southern people they could have peace at any moment by
+simply laying down their arms and submitting to National authority. Now
+that they have taken me at my word, shall I betray them by an ignoble
+revenge? Vengeance cannot heal and purify: it can only brutalize and
+destroy."
+
+Stoneman shuffled to his feet with impatience.
+
+"I see it is useless to argue with you. I'll not waste my breath. I give
+you an ultimatum. The South is conquered soil. I mean to blot it from the
+map. Rather than admit one traitor to the halls of Congress from these
+so-called States I will shatter the Union itself into ten thousand
+fragments! I will not sit beside men whose clothes smell of the blood of
+my kindred. At least dry them before they come in. Four years ago, with
+yells and curses, these traitors left the halls of Congress to join the
+armies of Catiline. Shall they return to rule?"
+
+"I repeat," said the President, "you cannot indict a people. Treason is an
+easy word to speak. A traitor is one who fights and loses. Washington was
+a traitor to George III. Treason won, and Washington is immortal. Treason
+is a word that victors hurl at those who fail."
+
+"Listen to me," Stoneman interrupted with vehemence. "The life of our
+party demands that the negro be given the ballot and made the ruler of the
+South. This can be done only by the extermination of its landed
+aristocracy, that their mothers shall not breed another race of traitors.
+This is not vengeance. It is justice, it is patriotism, it is the highest
+wisdom and humanity. Nature, at times, blots out whole communities and
+races that obstruct progress. Such is the political genius of these people
+that, unless you make the negro the ruler, the South will yet reconquer
+the North and undo the work of this war."
+
+"If the South in poverty and ruin can do this, we deserve to be ruled! The
+North is rich and powerful--the South a land of wreck and tomb. I greet
+with wonder, shame, and scorn such ignoble fear! The Nation cannot be
+healed until the South is healed. Let the gulf be closed in which we bury
+slavery, sectional animosity, and all strifes and hatreds. The good sense
+of our people will never consent to your scheme of insane vengeance."
+
+"The people have no sense. A new fool is born every second. They are ruled
+by impulse and passion."
+
+"I have trusted them before, and they have not failed me. The day I left
+for Gettysburg to dedicate the battlefield, you were so sure of my defeat
+in the approaching convention that you shouted across the street to a
+friend as I passed: 'Let the dead bury the dead!' It was a brilliant sally
+of wit. I laughed at it myself. And yet the people unanimously called me
+again to lead them to victory."
+
+"Yes, in the past," said Stoneman bitterly, "you have triumphed, but mark
+my word: from this hour your star grows dim. The slumbering fires of
+passion will be kindled. In the fight we join to-day I'll break your back
+and wring the neck of every dastard and time-server who fawns at your
+feet."
+
+The President broke into a laugh that only increased the old man's wrath.
+
+"I protest against the insult of your buffoonery!"
+
+"Excuse me, Stoneman; I have to laugh or die beneath the burdens I bear,
+surrounded by such supporters!"
+
+"Mark my word," growled the old leader, "from the moment you publish that
+North Carolina proclamation, your name will be a by-word in Congress."
+
+"There are higher powers."
+
+"You will need them."
+
+"I'll have help," was the calm reply, as the dreaminess of the poet and
+mystic stole over the rugged face. "I would be a presumptuous fool,
+indeed, if I thought that for a day I could discharge the duties of this
+great office without the aid of One who is wiser and stronger than all
+others."
+
+"You'll need the help of Almighty God in the course you've mapped out!"
+
+"Some ships come into port that are not steered," went on the dreamy
+voice. "Suppose Pickett had charged one hour earlier at Gettysburg?
+Suppose the _Monitor_ had arrived one hour later at Hampton Roads? I had a
+dream last night that always presages great events. I saw a white ship
+passing swiftly under full sail. I have often seen her before. I have
+never known her port of entry, or her destination, but I have always known
+her Pilot!"
+
+The cynic's lips curled with scorn. He leaned heavily on his cane, and
+took a shambling step toward the door.
+
+"You refuse to heed the wishes of Congress?"
+
+"If your words voice them, yes. Force your scheme of revenge on the South,
+and you sow the wind to reap the whirlwind."
+
+"Indeed! and from what secret cave will this whirlwind come?"
+
+"The despair of a mighty race of world-conquering men, even in defeat, is
+still a force that statesmen reckon with."
+
+"I defy them," growled the old Commoner.
+
+Again the dreamy look returned to Lincoln's face, and he spoke as if
+repeating a message of the soul caught in the clouds in an hour of
+transfiguration:
+
+"And I'll trust the honour of Lee and his people. The mystic chords of
+memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every
+living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the
+chorus of the Union, when touched again, as they surely will be, by the
+better angels of our nature."
+
+"You'll be lucky to live to hear that chorus."
+
+"To dream it is enough. If I fall by the hand of an assassin now, he will
+not come from the South. I was safer in Richmond, this week, than I am in
+Washington, to-day."
+
+The cynic grunted and shuffled another step toward the door.
+
+The President came closer.
+
+"Look here, Stoneman; have you some deep personal motive in this vengeance
+on the South? Come, now, I've never in my life known you to tell a lie."
+
+The answer was silence and a scowl.
+
+"Am I right?"
+
+"Yes and no. I hate the South because I hate the Satanic Institution of
+Slavery with consuming fury. It has long ago rotted the heart out of the
+Southern people. Humanity cannot live in its tainted air, and its children
+are doomed. If my personal wrongs have ordained me for a mighty task, no
+matter; I am simply the chosen instrument of Justice!"
+
+Again the mystic light clothed the rugged face, calm and patient as
+Destiny, as the President slowly repeated:
+
+"With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the
+right, as God gives me to see the right, I shall strive to finish the work
+we are in, and bind up the Nation's wounds."
+
+"I've given you fair warning," cried the old Commoner, trembling with
+rage, as he hobbled nearer the door. "From this hour your administration
+is doomed."
+
+"Stoneman," said the kindly voice, "I can't tell you how your venomous
+philanthropy sickens me. You have misunderstood and abused me at every
+step during the past four years. I bear you no ill will. If I have said
+anything to-day to hurt your feelings, forgive me. The earnestness with
+which you pressed the war was an invaluable service to me and to the
+Nation. I'd rather work with you than fight you. But now that we have to
+fight, I'd as well tell you I'm not afraid of you. I'll suffer my right
+arm to be severed from my body before I'll sign one measure of ignoble
+revenge on a brave, fallen foe, and I'll keep up this fight until I win,
+die, or my country forsakes me."
+
+"I have always known you had a sneaking admiration for the South," came
+the sullen sneer.
+
+"I love the South! It is a part of this Union. I love every foot of its
+soil, every hill and valley, mountain, lake, and sea, and every man,
+woman, and child that breathes beneath its skies. I am an American."
+
+As the burning words leaped from the heart of the President the broad
+shoulders of his tall form lifted, and his massive head rose in
+unconscious heroic pose.
+
+"I marvel that you ever made war upon your loved ones!" cried the cynic.
+
+"We fought the South because we loved her and would not let her go. Now
+that she is crushed and lies bleeding at our feet--you shall not make war
+on the wounded, dying, and the dead!"
+
+Again the lion gleamed in the calm gray eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE BATTLE OF LOVE
+
+
+Elsie carried Ben Cameron's pardon to the anxious mother and sister with
+her mind in a tumult. The name on these fateful papers fascinated her. She
+read it again and again with a curious personal joy that she had saved a
+life!
+
+She had entered on her work among the hospitals a bitter partisan of her
+father's school, with the simple idea that all Southerners were savage
+brutes. Yet as she had seen the wounded boys from the South among the men
+in blue, more and more she had forgotten the difference between them. They
+were so young, these slender, dark-haired ones from Dixie--so pitifully
+young! Some of them were only fifteen, and hundreds not over sixteen. A
+lad of fourteen she had kissed one day in sheer agony of pity for his
+loneliness.
+
+The part her father was playing in the drama on which Ben Cameron's life
+had hung puzzled her. Was his the mysterious arm back of Stanton? Echoes
+of the fierce struggle with the President had floated through the
+half-open door.
+
+She had implicit faith in her father's patriotism and pride in his giant
+intellect. She knew that he was a king among men by divine right of
+inherent power. His sensitive spirit, brooding over a pitiful lameness,
+had hidden from the world behind a frowning brow like a wounded animal.
+Yet her hand in hours of love, when no eye save God's could see, had led
+his great soul out of its dark lair. She loved him with brooding
+tenderness, knowing that she had gotten closer to his inner life than any
+other human being--closer than her own mother, who had died while she was
+a babe. Her aunt, with whom she and Phil now lived, had told her the
+mother's life was not a happy one. Their natures had not proved congenial,
+and her gentle Quaker spirit had died of grief in the quiet home in
+southern Pennsylvania.
+
+Yet there were times when he was a stranger even to her. Some secret, dark
+and cold, stood between them. Once she had tenderly asked him what it
+meant. He merely pressed her hand, smiled wearily, and said:
+
+"Nothing, my dear, only the Blue Devils after me again."
+
+He had always lived in Washington in a little house with black shutters,
+near the Capitol, while the children had lived with his sister, near the
+White House, where they had grown from babyhood.
+
+A curious fact about this place on the Capitol hill was that his
+housekeeper, Lydia Brown, was a mulatto, a woman of extraordinary animal
+beauty and the fiery temper of a leopardess. Elsie had ventured there once
+and got such a welcome she would never return. All sorts of gossip could
+be heard in Washington about this woman, her jewels, her dresses, her
+airs, her assumption of the dignity of the presiding genius of National
+legislation and her domination of the old Commoner and his life. It
+gradually crept into the newspapers and magazines, but he never once
+condescended to notice it.
+
+Elsie begged her father to close this house and live with them.
+
+His reply was short and emphatic:
+
+"Impossible, my child. This club foot must live next door to the Capitol.
+My house is simply an executive office at which I sleep. Half the business
+of the Nation is transacted there. Don't mention this subject again."
+
+Elsie choked back a sob at the cold menace in the tones of this command,
+and never repeated her request. It was the only wish he had ever denied
+her, and, somehow, her heart would come back to it with persistence and
+brood and wonder over his motive.
+
+The nearer she drew, this morning, to the hospital door, the closer the
+wounded boy's life and loved ones seemed to hers. She thought with anguish
+of the storm about to break between her father and the President--the one
+demanding the desolation of their land, wasted, harried, and unarmed!--the
+President firm in his policy of mercy, generosity, and healing.
+
+Her father would not mince words. His scorpion tongue, set on fires of
+hell, might start a conflagration that would light the Nation with its
+glare. Would not his name be a terror for every man and woman born under
+Southern skies? The sickening feeling stole over her that he was wrong,
+and his policy cruel and unjust.
+
+She had never before admired the President. It was fashionable to speak
+with contempt of him in Washington. He had little following in Congress.
+Nine tenths of the politicians hated or feared him, and she knew her
+father had been the soul of a conspiracy at the Capitol to prevent his
+second nomination and create a dictatorship, under which to carry out an
+iron policy of reconstruction in the South. And now she found herself
+heart and soul the champion of the President.
+
+She was ashamed of her disloyalty, and felt a rush of impetuous anger
+against Ben and his people for thrusting themselves between her and her
+own. Yet how absurd to feel thus against the innocent victims of a great
+tragedy! She put the thought from her. Still she must part from them now
+before the brewing storm burst. It would be best for her and best for
+them. This pardon delivered would end their relations. She would send the
+papers by a messenger and not see them again. And then she thought with a
+throb of girlish pride of the hour to come in the future when Ben's big
+brown eyes would be softened with a tear when he would learn that she had
+saved his life. They had concealed all from him as yet.
+
+She was afraid to question too closely in her own heart the shadowy motive
+that lay back of her joy. She read again with a lingering smile the name
+"Ben Cameron" on the paper with its big red Seal of Life. She had laughed
+at boys who had made love to her, dreaming a wider, nobler life of heroic
+service. And she felt that she was fulfilling her ideal in the generous
+hand she had extended to these who were friendless. Were they not the
+children of her soul in that larger, finer world of which she had dreamed
+and sung? Why should she give them up now for brutal politics? Their
+sorrow had been hers, their joy should be hers, too. She would take the
+papers herself and then say good-bye.
+
+She found the mother and sister beside the cot. Ben was sleeping with
+Margaret holding one of his hands. The mother was busy sewing for the
+wounded Confederate boys she had found scattered through the hospital.
+
+At the sight of Elsie holding aloft the message of life she sprang to meet
+her with a cry of joy.
+
+She clasped the girl to her breast, unable to speak. At last she released
+her and said with a sob:
+
+"My child, through good report and through evil report my love will enfold
+you!"
+
+Elsie stammered, looked away, and tried to hide her emotion. Margaret had
+knelt and bowed her head on Ben's cot. She rose at length, threw her arms
+around Elsie in a resistless impulse, kissed her and whispered:
+
+"My sweet sister!"
+
+Elsie's heart leaped at the words, as her eyes rested on the face of the
+sleeping soldier.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE ASSASSINATION
+
+
+Elsie called in the afternoon at the Camerons' lodgings, radiant with
+pride, accompanied by her brother.
+
+Captain Phil Stoneman, athletic, bronzed, a veteran of two years' service,
+dressed in his full uniform, was the ideal soldier, and yet he had never
+loved war. He was bubbling over with quiet joy that the end had come and
+he could soon return to a rational life. Inheriting his mother's
+temperament, he was generous, enterprising, quick, intelligent, modest,
+and ambitious. War had seemed to him a horrible tragedy from the first. He
+had early learned to respect a brave foe, and bitterness had long since
+melted out of his heart.
+
+He had laughed at his father's harsh ideas of Southern life gained as a
+politician, and, while loyal to him after a boy's fashion, he took no
+stock in his Radical programme.
+
+The father, colossal egotist that he was, heard Phil's protests with mild
+amusement and quiet pride in his independence, for he loved this boy with
+deep tenderness.
+
+Phil had been touched by the story of Ben's narrow escape, and was anxious
+to show his mother and sister every courtesy possible in part atonement
+for the wrong he felt had been done them. He was timid with girls, and yet
+he wished to give Margaret a cordial greeting for Elsie's sake. He was not
+prepared for the shock the first appearance of the Southern girl gave
+him.
+
+When the stately figure swept through the door to greet him, her black
+eyes sparkling with welcome, her voice low and tender with genuine
+feeling, he caught his breath in surprise.
+
+Elsie noted his confusion with amusement and said:
+
+"I must go to the hospital for a little work. Now, Phil, I'll meet you at
+the door at eight o'clock."
+
+"I'll not forget," he answered abstractedly, watching Margaret intently as
+she walked with Elsie to the door.
+
+He saw that her dress was of coarse, unbleached cotton, dyed with the
+juice of walnut hulls and set with wooden hand-made buttons. The story
+these things told of war and want was eloquent, yet she wore them with
+unconscious dignity. She had not a pin or brooch or piece of jewellery.
+Everything about her was plain and smooth, graceful and gracious. Her face
+was large--the lovely oval type--and her luxuriant hair, parted in the
+middle, fell downward in two great waves. Tall, stately, handsome, her
+dark rare Southern beauty full of subtle languor and indolent grace, she
+was to Phil a revelation.
+
+The coarse black dress that clung closely to her figure seemed alive when
+she moved, vital with her beauty. The musical cadences of her voice were
+vibrant with feeling, sweet, tender, and homelike. And the odour of the
+rose she wore pinned low on her breast he could swear was the perfume of
+her breath.
+
+Lingering in her eyes and echoing in the tones of her voice, he caught the
+shadowy memory of tears for the loved and lost that gave a strange pathos
+and haunting charm to her youth.
+
+She had returned quickly and was talking at ease with him.
+
+"I'm not going to tell you, Captain Stoneman, that I hope to be a sister
+to you. You have already made yourself my brother in what you did for
+Ben."
+
+"Nothing, I assure you, Miss Cameron, that any soldier wouldn't do for a
+brave foe."
+
+"Perhaps; but when the foe happens to be an only brother, my chum and
+playmate, brave and generous, whom I've worshipped as my beau-ideal
+man--why, you know I must thank you for taking him in your arms that day.
+May I, again?"
+
+Phil felt the soft warm hand clasp his, while the black eyes sparkled and
+glowed their friendly message.
+
+He murmured something incoherently, looked at Margaret as if in a spell,
+and forgot to let her hand go.
+
+She laughed at last, and he blushed and dropped it as though it were a
+live coal.
+
+"I was about to forget, Miss Cameron. I wish to take you to the theatre
+to-night, if you will go?"
+
+"To the theatre?"
+
+"Yes. It's to be an occasion, Elsie tells me. Laura Keene's last
+appearance in 'Our American Cousin,' and her one-thousandth performance of
+the play. She played it in Chicago at McVicker's, when the President was
+first nominated, to hundreds of the delegates who voted for him. He is to
+be present to-night, so the _Evening Star_ has announced, and General and
+Mrs. Grant with him. It will be the opportunity of your life to see these
+famous men--besides, I wish you to see the city illuminated on the way."
+
+Margaret hesitated.
+
+"I should like to go," she said with some confusion. "But you see we are
+old-fashioned Scotch Presbyterians down in our village in South Carolina.
+I never was in a theatre--and this is Good Friday----"
+
+"That's a fact, sure," said Phil thoughtfully. "It never occurred to me.
+War is not exactly a spiritual stimulant, and it blurs the calendar. I
+believe we fight on Sundays oftener than on any other day."
+
+"But I'm crazy to see the President since Ben's pardon. Mamma will be here
+in a moment, and I'll ask her."
+
+"You see, it's really an occasion," Phil went on. "The people are all
+going there to see President Lincoln in the hour of his triumph, and his
+great General fresh from the field of victory. Grant has just arrived in
+town."
+
+Mrs. Cameron entered and greeted Phil with motherly tenderness.
+
+"Captain, you're so much like my boy! Had you noticed it, Margaret?"
+
+"Of course, Mamma, but I was afraid I'd tire him with flattery if I tried
+to tell him."
+
+"Only his hair is light and wavy, and Ben's straight and black, or you'd
+call them twins. Ben's a little taller--excuse us, Captain Stoneman, but
+we've fallen so in love with your little sister we feel we've known you
+all our lives."
+
+"I assure you, Mrs. Cameron, your flattery is very sweet. Elsie and I do
+not remember our mother, and all this friendly criticism is more than
+welcome."
+
+"Mamma, Captain Stoneman asks me to go with him and his sister to-night to
+see the President at the theatre. May I go?"
+
+"Will the President be there, Captain?" asked Mrs. Cameron.
+
+"Yes, Madam, with General and Mrs. Grant--it's really a great public
+function in celebration of peace and victory. To-day the flag was raised
+over Fort Sumter, the anniversary of its surrender four years ago. The
+city will be illuminated."
+
+"Then, of course, you can go. I will sit with Ben. I wish you to see the
+President."
+
+At seven o'clock Phil called for Margaret. They walked to the Capitol hill
+and down Pennsylvania Avenue.
+
+The city was in a ferment. Vast crowds thronged the streets. In front of
+the hotel where General Grant stopped the throng was so dense the streets
+were completely blocked. Soldiers, soldiers, soldiers, at every turn, in
+squads, in companies, in regimental crowds, shouting cries of victory.
+
+The display of lights was dazzling in its splendour. Every building in
+every street, in every nook and corner of the city, was lighted from attic
+to cellar. The public buildings and churches vied with each other in the
+magnificence of their decorations and splendour of illuminations.
+
+They turned a corner, and suddenly the Capitol on the throne of its
+imperial hill loomed a grand constellation in the heavens! Another look,
+and it seemed a huge bonfire against the background of the dark skies.
+Every window in its labyrinths of marble, from the massive base to its
+crowning statue of Freedom, gleamed and flashed with light--more than ten
+thousand jets poured their rays through its windows, besides the
+innumerable lights that circled the mighty dome within and without.
+
+Margaret stopped, and Phil felt her soft hand grip his arm with sudden
+emotion.
+
+"Isn't it sublime!" she whispered.
+
+"Glorious!" he echoed.
+
+But he was thinking of the pressure of her hand on his arm and the subtle
+tones of her voice. Somehow he felt that the light came from her eyes. He
+forgot the Capitol and the surging crowds before the sweeter creative
+wonder silently growing in his soul.
+
+"And yet," she faltered, "when I think of what all this means for our
+people at home--their sorrow and poverty and ruin--you know it makes me
+faint."
+
+Phil's hand timidly sought the soft one resting on his arm and touched it
+reverently.
+
+"Believe me, Miss Margaret, it will be all for the best in the end. The
+South will yet rise to a nobler life than she has ever lived in the past.
+This is her victory as well as ours."
+
+"I wish I could think so," she answered.
+
+They passed the City Hall and saw across its front, in giant letters of
+fire thirty feet deep, the words:
+
+"UNION, SHERMAN, AND GRANT"
+
+On Pennsylvania Avenue the hotels and stores had hung every window,
+awning, cornice, and swaying tree-top with lanterns. The grand avenue was
+bridged by tri-coloured balloons floating and shimmering ghostlike far up
+in the dark sky. Above these, in the blacker zone toward the stars, the
+heavens were flashing sheets of chameleon flames from bursting rockets.
+
+Margaret had never dreamed such a spectacle. She walked in awed silence,
+now and then suppressing a sob for the memory of those she had loved and
+lost. A moment of bitterness would cloud her heart, and then with the
+sense of Phil's nearness, his generous nature, the beauty and goodness of
+his sister, and all they owed to her for Ben's life, the cloud would
+pass.
+
+At every public building, and in front of every great hotel, bands were
+playing. The wild war strains, floating skyward, seemed part of the
+changing scheme of light. The odour of burnt powder and smouldering
+rockets filled the warm spring air.
+
+The deep bay of the great fort guns now began to echo from every hilltop
+commanding the city, while a thousand smaller guns barked and growled from
+every square and park and crossing.
+
+Jay Cooke & Co's. banking-house had stretched across its front, in
+enormous blazing letters, the words:
+
+"THE BUSY B'S--BALLS, BALLOTS, AND BONDS"
+
+Every telegraph and newspaper office was a roaring whirlpool of
+excitement, for the same scenes were being enacted in every centre of the
+North. The whole city was now a fairy dream, its dirt and sin, shame and
+crime, all wrapped in glorious light.
+
+But above all other impressions was the contagion of the thunder shouts of
+hosts of men surging through the streets--the human roar with its animal
+and spiritual magnetism, wild, resistless, unlike any other force in the
+universe!
+
+Margaret's hand again and again unconsciously tightened its hold on Phil's
+arm, and he felt that the whole celebration had been gotten up for his
+benefit.
+
+They passed through a little park on their way to Ford's Theatre on 10th
+Street, and the eye of the Southern girl was quick to note the budding
+flowers and full-blown lilacs.
+
+"See what an early spring!" she cried. "I know the flowers at home are
+gorgeous now."
+
+"I shall hope to see you among them some day, when all the clouds have
+lifted," he said.
+
+She smiled and replied with simple earnestness:
+
+"A warm welcome will await your coming."
+
+And Phil resolved to lose no time in testing it.
+
+They turned into 10th Street, and in the middle of the block stood the
+plain three-story brick structure of Ford's Theatre, an enormous crowd
+surging about its five doorways and spreading out on the sidewalk and half
+across the driveway.
+
+"Is that the theatre?" asked Margaret.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Why, it looks like a church without a steeple."
+
+"Exactly what it really is, Miss Margaret. It was a Baptist church. They
+turned it into a playhouse, by remodelling its gallery into a dress-circle
+and balcony and adding another gallery above. My grandmother Stoneman is a
+devoted Baptist, and was an attendant at this church. My father never goes
+to church, but he used to go here occasionally to please her. Elsie and I
+frequently came."
+
+Phil pushed his way rapidly through the crowd with a peculiar sense of
+pleasure in making a way for Margaret and in defending her from the
+jostling throng.
+
+They found Elsie at the door, stamping her foot with impatience.
+
+"Well, I must say, Phil, this is prompt for a soldier who had positive
+orders," she cried. "I've been here an hour."
+
+"Nonsense, Sis, I'm ahead of time," he protested.
+
+Elsie held up her watch.
+
+"It's a quarter past eight. Every seat is filled, and they've stopped
+selling standing-room. I hope you have good seats."
+
+"The best in the house to-night, the first row in the balcony
+dress-circle, opposite the President's box. We can see everything on the
+stage, in the box, and every nook and corner of the house."
+
+"Then I'll forgive you for keeping me waiting."
+
+They ascended the stairs, pushed through the throng standing, and at last
+reached the seats.
+
+What a crowd! The building was a mass of throbbing humanity, and, over
+all, the hum of the thrilling wonder of peace and victory!
+
+The women in magnificent costumes, officers in uniforms flashing with
+gold, the show of wealth and power, the perfume of flowers and the music
+of violin and flutes gave Margaret the impression of a dream, so sharp was
+the contrast with her own life and people in the South.
+
+The interior of the house was a billow of red, white, and blue. The
+President's box was wrapped in two enormous silk flags with gold-fringed
+edges gracefully draped and hanging in festoons.
+
+Withers, the leader of the orchestra, was in high feather. He raised his
+baton with quick, inspired movement. It was for him a personal triumph,
+too. He had composed the music of a song for the occasion. It was
+dedicated to the President, and the programme announced that it would be
+rendered during the evening between the acts by a famous quartet, assisted
+by the whole company in chorus. The National flag would be draped about
+each singer, worn as the togas of ancient Greece and Rome.
+
+It was already known by the crowd that General and Mrs. Grant had left the
+city for the North and could not be present, but every eye was fixed on
+the door through which the President and Mrs. Lincoln would enter. It was
+the hour of his supreme triumph.
+
+[Illustration: THE ASSASSINATION.]
+
+What a romance his life! The thought of it thrilled the crowd as they
+waited. A few years ago this tall, sad-faced man had floated down the
+Sangamon River into a rough Illinois town, ragged, penniless, friendless,
+alone, begging for work. Four years before he had entered Washington as
+President of the United States--but he came under cover of the night with
+a handful of personal friends, amid universal contempt for his ability and
+the loud expressed conviction of his failure from within and without his
+party. He faced a divided Nation and the most awful civil convulsion in
+history. Through it all he had led the Nation in safety, growing each day
+in power and fame, until to-night, amid the victorious shouts of millions
+of a Union fixed in eternal granite, he stood forth the idol of the
+people, the first great American, the foremost man of the world.
+
+There was a stir at the door, and the tall figure suddenly loomed in view
+of the crowd. With one impulse they leaped to their feet, and shout after
+shout shook the building. The orchestra was playing "Hail to the Chief!"
+but nobody heard it. They saw the Chief! They were crying their own
+welcome in music that came from the rhythmic beat of human hearts.
+
+As the President walked along the aisle with Mrs. Lincoln, accompanied by
+Senator Harris' daughter and Major Rathbone, cheer after cheer burst from
+the crowd. He turned, his face beaming with pleasure, and bowed as he
+passed.
+
+The answer of the crowd shook the building to its foundations, and the
+President paused. His dark face flashed with emotion as he looked over the
+sea of cheering humanity. It was a moment of supreme exaltation. The
+people had grown to know and love and trust him, and it was sweet. His
+face, lit with the responsive fires of emotion, was transfigured. The soul
+seemed to separate itself from its dreamy, rugged dwelling-place and flash
+its inspiration from the spirit world.
+
+As around this man's personality had gathered the agony and horror of war,
+so now about his head glowed and gleamed in imagination the splendours of
+victory.
+
+Margaret impulsively put her hand on Phil's arm:
+
+"Why, how Southern he looks! How tall and dark and typical his whole
+figure!"
+
+"Yes, and his traits of character even more typical," said Phil. "On the
+surface, easy friendly ways and the tenderness of a woman--beneath, an
+iron will and lion heart. I like him. And what always amazes me is his
+universality. A Southerner finds in him the South, the Western man the
+West, even Charles Sumner, from Boston, almost loves him. You know I think
+he is the first great all-round American who ever lived in the White
+House."
+
+The President's party had now entered the box, and as Mr. Lincoln took the
+armchair nearest the audience, in full view of every eye in the house,
+again the cheers rent the air. In vain Withers' baton flew, and the
+orchestra did its best. The music was drowned as in the roar of the sea.
+Again he rose and bowed and smiled, his face radiant with pleasure. The
+soul beneath those deep-cut lines had long pined for the sunlight. His
+love of the theatre and the humorous story were the protest of his heart
+against pain and tragedy. He stood there bowing to the people, the
+grandest, gentlest figure of the fiercest war of human history--a man who
+was always doing merciful things stealthily as others do crimes. Little
+sunlight had come into his life, yet to-night he felt that the sun of a
+new day in his history and the history of the people was already tingeing
+the horizon with glory.
+
+Back of those smiles what a story! Many a night he had paced back and
+forth in the telegraph office of the War Department, read its awful news
+of defeat, and alone sat down and cried over the list of the dead. Many a
+black hour his soul had seen when the honours of earth were forgotten and
+his great heart throbbed on his sleeve. His character had grown so evenly
+and silently with the burdens he had borne, working mighty deeds with such
+little friction, he could not know, nor could the crowd to whom he bowed,
+how deep into the core of the people's life the love of him had grown.
+
+As he looked again over the surging crowd his tall figure seemed to
+straighten, erect and buoyant, with the new dignity of conscious
+triumphant leadership. He knew that he had come unto his own at last, and
+his brain was teeming with dreams of mercy and healing.
+
+The President resumed his seat, the tumult died away, and the play began
+amid a low hum of whispered comment directed at the flag-draped box. The
+actors struggled in vain to hold the attention of the audience, until
+finally Hawk, the actor playing Dundreary, determined to catch their ear,
+paused and said:
+
+"Now, that reminds me of a little story, as Mr. Lincoln says----"
+
+Instantly the crowd burst into a storm of applause, the President laughed,
+leaned over and spoke to his wife, and the electric connection was made
+between the stage, the box, and the people.
+
+After this the play ran its smooth course, and the audience settled into
+its accustomed humour of sympathetic attention.
+
+In spite of the novelty of this, her first view of a theatre, the
+President fascinated Margaret. She watched the changing lights and shadows
+of his sensitive face with untiring interest, and the wonder of his life
+grew upon her imagination. This man who was the idol of the North and yet
+to her so purely Southern, who had come out of the West and yet was
+greater than the West or the North, and yet always supremely human--this
+man who sprang to his feet from the chair of State and bowed to a
+sorrowing woman with the deference of a knight, every man's friend,
+good-natured, sensible, masterful and clear in intellect, strong, yet
+modest, kind and gentle--yes, he was more interesting than all the drama
+and romance of the stage!
+
+He held her imagination in a spell. Elsie, divining her abstraction,
+looked toward the President's box and saw approaching it along the balcony
+aisle the figure of John Wilkes Booth.
+
+"Look," she cried, touching Margaret's arm. "There's John Wilkes Booth,
+the actor! Isn't he handsome? They say he's in love with my chum, a
+senator's daughter whose father hates Mr. Lincoln with perfect fury."
+
+"He is handsome," Margaret answered. "But I'd be afraid of him, with that
+raven hair and eyes shining like something wild."
+
+"They say he is wild and dissipated, yet half the silly girls in town are
+in love with him. He's as vain as a peacock."
+
+Booth, accustomed to free access to the theatre, paused near the entrance
+to the box and looked deliberately over the great crowd, his magnetic face
+flushed with deep emotion, while his fiery inspiring eyes glittered with
+excitement.
+
+Dressed in a suit of black broadcloth of faultless fit, from the crown of
+his head to the soles of his feet he was physically without blemish. A
+figure of perfect symmetry and proportion, his dark eyes flashing, his
+marble forehead crowned with curling black hair, agility and grace stamped
+on every line of his being--beyond a doubt he was the handsomest man in
+America. A flutter of feminine excitement rippled the surface of the crowd
+in the balcony as his well-known figure caught the wandering eyes of the
+women.
+
+He turned and entered the door leading to the President's box, and
+Margaret once more gave her attention to the stage.
+
+Hawk, as Dundreary, was speaking his lines and looking directly at the
+President instead of at the audience:
+
+"Society, eh? Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old
+woman, you darned old sockdologing man trap!"
+
+Margaret winced at the coarse words, but the galleries burst into shouts
+of laughter that lingered in ripples and murmurs and the shuffling of
+feet.
+
+The muffled crack of a pistol in the President's box hushed the laughter
+for an instant.
+
+No one realized what had happened, and when the assassin suddenly leaped
+from the box, with a blood-marked knife flashing in his right hand, caught
+his foot in the flags and fell to his knees on the stage, many thought it
+a part of the programme, and a boy, leaning over the gallery rail,
+giggled. When Booth turned his face of statuesque beauty lit by eyes
+flashing with insane desperation and cried, "_Sic semper tyrannis_," they
+were only confirmed in this impression.
+
+A sudden, piercing scream from Mrs. Lincoln, quivering, soul harrowing!
+Leaning far out of the box, from ashen cheeks and lips leaped the piteous
+cry of appeal, her hand pointing to the retreating figure:
+
+"The President is shot! He has killed the President!"
+
+Every heart stood still for one awful moment. The brain refused to record
+the message--and then the storm burst!
+
+A wild roar of helpless fury and despair! Men hurled themselves over the
+footlights in vain pursuit of the assassin. Already the clatter of his
+horse's feet could be heard in the distance. A surgeon threw himself
+against the door of the box, but it had been barred within by the cunning
+hand. Another leaped on the stage, and the people lifted him up in their
+arms and over the fatal railing.
+
+Women began to faint, and strong men trampled down the weak in mad rushes
+from side to side.
+
+The stage in a moment was a seething mass of crazed men, among them the
+actors and actresses in costumes and painted faces, their mortal terror
+shining through the rouge. They passed water up to the box, and some tried
+to climb up and enter it.
+
+The two hundred soldiers of the President's guard suddenly burst in, and,
+amid screams and groans of the weak and injured, stormed the house with
+fixed bayonets, cursing, yelling, and shouting at the top of their
+voices:
+
+"Clear out! Clear out! You sons of hell!"
+
+One of them suddenly bore down with fixed bayonet toward Phil.
+
+Margaret shrank in terror close to his side and tremblingly held his arm.
+
+Elsie sprang forward, her face aflame, her eyes flashing fire, her little
+figure tense, erect, and quivering with rage:
+
+"How dare you, idiot, brute!"
+
+The soldier, brought to his senses, saw Phil in full captain's uniform
+before him, and suddenly drew himself up, saluting. Phil ordered him to
+guard Margaret and Elsie for a moment, drew his sword, leaped between the
+crazed soldiers and their victims and stopped their insane rush.
+
+Within the box the great head lay in the surgeon's arms, the blood slowly
+dripping down, and the tiny death bubbles forming on the kindly lips. They
+carried him tenderly out, and another group bore after him the unconscious
+wife. The people tore the seats from their fastenings and heaped them in
+piles to make way for the precious burdens.
+
+As Phil pressed forward with Margaret and Elsie through the open door came
+the roar of the mob without, shouting its cries:
+
+"The President is shot!"
+
+"Seward is murdered!"
+
+"Where is Grant?"
+
+"Where is Stanton?"
+
+"To arms! To arms!"
+
+The peal of signal guns could now be heard, the roll of drums and the
+hurried tramp of soldiers' feet. They marched none too soon. The mob had
+attacked the stockade holding ten thousand unarmed Confederate prisoners.
+
+At the corner of the block in which the theatre stood they seized a man
+who looked like a Southerner and hung him to the lamp-post. Two heroic
+policemen fought their way to his side and rescued him.
+
+If the temper of the people during the war had been convulsive, now it was
+insane--with one mad impulse and one thought--vengeance! Horror, anger,
+terror, uncertainty, each passion fanned the one animal instinct into
+fury.
+
+Through this awful night, with the lights still gleaming as if to mock the
+celebration of victory, the crowds swayed in impotent rage through the
+streets, while the telegraph bore on the wings of lightning the
+awe-inspiring news. Men caught it from the wires, and stood in silent
+groups weeping, and their wrath against the fallen South began to rise as
+the moaning of the sea under a coming storm.
+
+At dawn black clouds hung threatening on the eastern horizon. As the sun
+rose, tingeing them for a moment with scarlet and purple glory, Abraham
+Lincoln breathed his last.
+
+Even grim Stanton, the iron-hearted, stood by his bedside and through
+blinding tears exclaimed:
+
+"Now he belongs to the ages!"
+
+The deed was done. The wheel of things had moved. Vice-President Johnson
+took the oath of office, and men hailed him Chief; but the seat of Empire
+had moved from the White House to a little dark house on the Capitol hill,
+where dwelt an old club-footed man, alone, attended by a strange brown
+woman of sinister animal beauty and the restless eyes of a leopardess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE FRENZY OF A NATION
+
+
+Phil hurried through the excited crowds with Margaret and Elsie, left them
+at the hospital door, and ran to the War Department to report for duty.
+Already the tramp of regiments echoed down every great avenue.
+
+Even as he ran, his heart beat with a strange new stroke when he recalled
+the look of appeal in Margaret's dark eyes as she nestled close to his
+side and clung to his arm for protection. He remembered with a smile the
+almost resistless impulse of the moment to slip his arm around her and
+assure her of safety. If he had only dared!
+
+Elsie begged Mrs. Cameron and Margaret to go home with her until the city
+was quiet.
+
+"No," said the mother. "I am not afraid. Death has no terrors for me any
+longer. We will not leave Ben a moment now, day or night. My soul is sick
+with dread for what this awful tragedy will mean for the South! I can't
+think of my own safety. Can any one undo this pardon now?" she asked
+anxiously.
+
+"I am sure they cannot. The name on that paper should be mightier dead
+than living."
+
+"Ah, but will it be? Do you know Mr. Johnson? Can he control Stanton? He
+seemed to be more powerful than the President himself. What will that man
+do now with those who fall into his hands."
+
+"He can do nothing with your son, rest assured."
+
+"I wish I knew it," said the mother wistfully.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few moments after the President died on Saturday morning, the rain began
+to pour in torrents. The flags that flew from a thousand gilt-tipped peaks
+in celebration of victory drooped to half-mast and hung weeping around
+their staffs. The litter of burnt fireworks, limp and crumbling, strewed
+the streets, and the tri-coloured lanterns and balloons, hanging
+pathetically from their wires, began to fall to pieces.
+
+Never in all the history of man had such a conjunction of events befallen
+a nation. From the heights of heaven's rejoicing to be suddenly hurled to
+the depths of hell in piteous helpless grief! Noon to midnight without a
+moment between. A pall of voiceless horror spread its shadows over the
+land. Nothing short of an earthquake or the sound of the archangel's
+trumpet could have produced the sense of helpless consternation, the black
+and speechless despair. The people read their papers in tears. The morning
+meal was untouched. By no other single feat could death have carried such
+peculiar horror to every home. Around this giant figure the heartstrings
+of the people had been unconsciously knit. Even his political enemies had
+come to love him.
+
+Above all, in just this moment he was the incarnation of the Triumphant
+Union on the altar of whose life every house had laid the offering of its
+first-born. The tragedy was stupefying--it was unthinkable--it was the
+mockery of Fate!
+
+Men walked the streets of the cities, dazed with the sense of blind grief.
+Every note of music and rejoicing became a dirge. All business ceased.
+Every wheel in every mill stopped. The roar of the great city was hushed,
+and Greed for a moment forgot his cunning.
+
+The army only moved with swifter spring, tightening its mighty grip on the
+throat of the bleeding prostrate South.
+
+As the day wore on its gloomy hours, and men began to find speech, they
+spoke to each other at first in low tones of Fate, of Life, of Death, of
+Immortality, of God--and then as grief found words the measureless rage of
+baffled strength grew slowly to madness.
+
+On every breeze from the North came the deep-muttered curses.
+
+Easter Sunday dawned after the storm, clear and beautiful in a flood of
+glorious sunshine. The churches were thronged as never in their history.
+All had been decorated for the double celebration of Easter and the
+triumph of the Union. The preachers had prepared sermons pitched in the
+highest anthem key of victory--victory over death and the grave of
+Calvary, and victory for the Nation opening a future of boundless glory.
+The churches were labyrinths of flowers, and around every pulpit and from
+every Gothic arch hung the red, white, and blue flags of the Republic.
+
+And now, as if to mock this gorgeous pageant, Death had in the night flung
+a black mantle over every flag and wound a strangling web of crape round
+every Easter flower.
+
+When the preachers faced the silent crowds before them, looking into the
+faces of fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and lovers whose dear ones
+had been slain in battle or died in prison pens, the tide of grief and
+rage rose and swept them from their feet! The Easter sermon was laid
+aside. Fifty thousand Christian ministers, stunned and crazed by insane
+passion, standing before the altars of God, hurled into the broken hearts
+before them the wildest cries of vengeance--cries incoherent, chaotic,
+unreasoning, blind in their awful fury!
+
+The pulpits of New York and Brooklyn led in the madness.
+
+Next morning old Stoneman read his paper with a cold smile playing about
+his big stern mouth, while his furrowed brow flushed with triumph, as
+again and again he exclaimed: "At last! At last!"
+
+Even Beecher, who had just spoken his generous words at Fort Sumter,
+declared:
+
+"Never while time lasts, while heaven lasts, while hell rocks and groans,
+will it be forgotten that Slavery, by its minions, slew him, and slaying
+him made manifest its whole nature. A man cannot be bred in its tainted
+air. I shall find saints in hell sooner than I shall find true manhood
+under its accursed influences. The breeding-ground of such monsters must
+be utterly and forever destroyed."
+
+Dr. Stephen Tyng said:
+
+"The leaders of this rebellion deserve no pity from any human being. Now
+let them go. Some other land must be their home. Their property is justly
+forfeited to the Nation they have attempted to destroy!"
+
+In big black-faced type stood Dr. Charles S. Robinson's bitter words:
+
+"This is the earliest reply which chivalry makes to our forbearance. Talk
+to me no more of the same race, of the same blood. He is no brother of
+mine and of no race of mine who crowns the barbarism of treason with the
+murder of an unarmed husband in the sight of his wife. On the villains who
+led this rebellion let justice fall swift and relentless. Death to every
+traitor of the South! Pursue them one by one! Let every door be closed
+upon them and judgment follow swift and implacable as death!"
+
+Dr. Theodore Cuyler exclaimed:
+
+"This is no time to talk of leniency and conciliation! I say before God,
+make no terms with rebellion short of extinction. Booth wielding the
+assassin's weapon is but the embodiment of the bowie-knife barbarism of a
+slaveholding oligarchy."
+
+Dr. J. P. Thompson said:
+
+"Blot every Southern State from the map. Strip every rebel of property and
+citizenship, and send them into exile beggared and infamous outcasts."
+
+Bishop Littlejohn, in his impassioned appeal, declared:
+
+"The deed is worthy of the Southern cause which was conceived in sin,
+brought forth in iniquity, and consummated in crime. This murderous hand
+is the same hand which lashed the slave's bared back, struck down New
+England's senator for daring to speak, lifted the torch of rebellion,
+slaughtered in cold blood its thousands, and starved our helpless
+prisoners. Its end is not martyrdom, but dishonour."
+
+Bishop Simpson said:
+
+"Let every man who was a member of Congress and aided this rebellion be
+brought to speedy punishment. Let every officer educated at public
+expense, who turned his sword against his country, be doomed to a
+traitor's death!"
+
+With the last note of this wild music lingering in the old Commoner's
+soul, he sat as if dreaming, laughed cynically, turned to the brown woman
+and said:
+
+"My speeches have not been lost after all. Prepare dinner for six. My
+cabinet will meet here to-night."
+
+While the press was reechoing these sermons, gathering strength as they
+were caught and repeated in every town, village, and hamlet in the North,
+the funeral procession started westward. It passed in grandeur through the
+great cities on its journey of one thousand six hundred miles to the tomb.
+By day, by night, by dawn, by sunlight, by twilight, and lit by solemn
+torches, millions of silent men and women looked on his dead face. Around
+the person of this tall, lonely man, rugged, yet full of sombre dignity
+and spiritual beauty, the thoughts, hopes, dreams, and ideals of the
+people had gathered in four years of agony and death, until they had come
+to feel their own hearts beat in his breast and their own life throb in
+his life. The assassin's bullet had crashed into their own brains, and
+torn their souls and bodies asunder.
+
+The masses were swept from their moorings, and reason destroyed. All
+historic perspective was lost. Our first assassination, there was no
+precedent for comparison. It had been over two hundred years in the
+world's history since the last murder of a great ruler, when William of
+Orange fell.
+
+On the day set for the public funeral twenty million people bowed at the
+same hour.
+
+When the procession reached New York the streets were lined with a million
+people. Not a sound could be heard save the tramp of soldiers' feet and
+the muffled cry of the dirge. Though on every foot of earth stood a human
+being, the silence of the desert and of death! The Nation's living heroes
+rode in that procession, and passed without a sign from the people.
+
+Four years ago he drove down Broadway as President-elect, unnoticed and
+with soldiers in disguise attending him lest the mob should stone him.
+
+To-day, at the mention of his name in the churches, the preachers' voices
+in prayer wavered and broke into silence while strong men among the crowd
+burst into sobs. Flags flew at half-mast from their steeples, and their
+bells tolled in grief.
+
+Every house that flew but yesterday its banner of victory was shrouded in
+mourning. The flags and pennants of a thousand ships in the harbour
+drooped at half-mast, and from every staff in the city streamed across the
+sky the black mists of crape like strange meteors in the troubled
+heavens.
+
+For three days every theatre, school, court, bank, shop, and mill was
+closed.
+
+And with muttered curses men looked Southward.
+
+Across Broadway the cortege passed under a huge transparency on which
+appeared the words:
+
+                        "A Nation bowed in grief
+                    Will rise in might to exterminate
+                The leaders of this accursed Rebellion."
+
+Farther along swung the black-draped banner:
+
+                          "Justice to Traitors
+                                   is
+                          Mercy to the People."
+
+Another flapped its grim message:
+
+                       "The Barbarism of Slavery.
+                       Can Barbarism go Further?"
+
+Across the Ninth Regiment Armoury, in gigantic letters, were the words:
+
+                            "Time for Weeping
+                     But Vengeance is not Sleeping!"
+
+When the procession reached Buffalo, the house of Millard Fillmore was
+mobbed because the ex-President, stricken on a bed of illness, had
+neglected to drape his house in mourning. The procession passed to
+Springfield through miles of bowed heads dumb with grief. The plough
+stopped in the furrow, the smith dropped his hammer, the carpenter his
+plane, the merchant closed his door, the clink of coin ceased, and over
+all hung brooding silence with low-muttered curses, fierce and
+incoherent.
+
+No man who walked the earth ever passed to his tomb through such a storm
+of human tears. The pageants of Alexander, Caesar, and Wellington were
+tinsel to this. Nor did the spirit of Napoleon, the Corsican Lieutenant of
+Artillery who once presided over a congress of kings whom he had
+conquered, look down on its like even in France.
+
+And now that its pomp was done and its memory but bitterness and ashes,
+but one man knew exactly what he wanted and what he meant to do. Others
+were stunned by the blow. But the cold eyes of the Great Commoner, leader
+of leaders, sparkled, and his grim lips smiled. From him not a word of
+praise or fawning sorrow for the dead. Whatever he might be, he was not a
+liar: when he hated, he hated.
+
+The drooping flags, the city's black shrouds, processions, torches, silent
+seas of faces and bared heads, the dirges and the bells, the dim-lit
+churches, wailing organs, fierce invectives from the altar, and the
+perfume of flowers piled in heaps by silent hearts--to all these was he
+heir.
+
+And more--the fierce unwritten, unspoken, and unspeakable horrors of the
+war itself, its passions, its cruelties, its hideous crimes and
+sufferings, the wailing of its women, the graves of its men--all these now
+were his.
+
+The new President bowed to the storm. In one breath he promised to fulfil
+the plans of Lincoln. In the next he, too, breathed threats of vengeance.
+
+The edict went forth for the arrest of General Lee.
+
+Would Grant, the Commanding General of the Army, dare protest? There were
+those who said that if Lee were arrested and Grant's plighted word at
+Appomattox smirched, the silent soldier would not only protest, but draw
+his sword, if need be, to defend his honour and the honour of the Nation.
+Yet--would he dare? It remained to be seen.
+
+The jails were now packed with Southern men, taken unarmed from their
+homes. The old Capitol Prison was full, and every cell of every grated
+building in the city, and they were filling the rooms of the Capitol
+itself.
+
+Margaret, hurrying from the market in the early morning with her flowers,
+was startled to find her mother bowed in anguish over a paragraph in the
+morning paper.
+
+She rose and handed it to the daughter, who read:
+
+  "Dr. Richard Cameron, of South Carolina, arrived in Washington and was
+  placed in jail last night, charged with complicity in the murder of
+  President Lincoln. It was discovered that Jeff Davis spent the night
+  at his home in Piedmont, under the pretence of needing medical
+  attention. Beyond all doubt, Booth, the assassin, merely acted under
+  orders from the Arch Traitor. May the gallows have a rich and early
+  harvest!"
+
+Margaret tremblingly wound her arms around her mother's neck. No words
+broke the pitiful silence--only blinding tears and broken sobs.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Book II--The Revolution
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE FIRST LADY OF THE LAND
+
+
+The little house on the Capitol hill now became the centre of fevered
+activity. This house, selected by its grim master to become the executive
+mansion of the Nation, was perhaps the most modest structure ever chosen
+for such high uses.
+
+It stood, a small, two-story brick building, in an unpretentious street.
+Seven windows opened on the front with black solid-panelled shutters. The
+front parlour was scantily furnished. A huge mirror covered one wall, and
+on the other hung a life-size oil portrait of Stoneman, and between the
+windows were a portrait of Washington Irving and a picture of a nun. Among
+his many charities he had always given liberally to an orphanage conducted
+by a Roman Catholic sisterhood.
+
+The back parlour, whose single window looked out on a small garden, he had
+fitted up as a library, with leather-upholstered furniture, a large desk
+and table, and scattered on the mantel and about its walls were the
+photographs of his personal friends and a few costly prints. This room he
+used as his executive office, and no person was allowed to enter it
+without first stating his business or presenting a petition to the tawny
+brown woman with restless eyes who sat in state in the front parlour and
+received his visitors. The books in their cases gave evidence of little
+use for many years, although their character indicated the tastes of a man
+of culture. His Pliny, Caesar, Cicero, Tacitus, Sophocles, and Homer had
+evidently been read by a man who knew their beauties and loved them for
+their own sake.
+
+This house was now the Mecca of the party in power and the storm-centre of
+the forces destined to shape the Nation's life. Senators, representatives,
+politicians of low and high degree, artists, correspondents, foreign
+ministers, and cabinet officers hurried to acknowledge their fealty to the
+uncrowned king, and hail the strange brown woman who held the keys of his
+house as the first lady of the land.
+
+When Charles Sumner called, a curious thing happened. By a code agreed on
+between them, Lydia Brown touched an electric signal which informed the
+old Commoner of his appearance. Stoneman hobbled to the folding-doors and
+watched through the slight opening the manner in which the icy senator
+greeted the negress whom he was compelled to meet thus as his social
+equal, though she was always particular to pose as the superior of all who
+bowed the knee to the old man whose house she kept.
+
+Sumner at this time was supposed to be the most powerful man in Congress.
+It was a harmless fiction which pleased him, and at which Stoneman loved
+to laugh.
+
+The senator from Massachusetts had just made a speech in Boston expounding
+the "Equality of Man," yet he could not endure personal contact with a
+negro. He would go secretly miles out of the way to avoid it.
+
+Stoneman watched him slowly and daintily approach this negress and touch
+her jewelled hand gingerly with the tips of his classic fingers as if she
+were a toad. Convulsed, he scrambled back to his desk and hugged himself
+while he listened to the flow of Lydia's condescending patronage in the
+next room.
+
+"This world's too good a thing to lose!" he chuckled. "I think I'll live
+always."
+
+When Sumner left, the hour for dinner had arrived, and by special
+invitation two men dined with him.
+
+On his right sat an army officer who had been dismissed from the service,
+a victim of the mania for gambling. His ruddy face, iron-gray hair, and
+jovial mien indicated that he enjoyed life in spite of troubles.
+
+There were no clubs in Washington at this time except the regular
+gambling-houses, of which there were more than one hundred in full blast.
+
+Stoneman was himself a gambler, and spent a part of almost every night at
+Hall & Pemberton's Faro Palace on Pennsylvania Avenue, a place noted for
+its famous restaurant. It was here that he met Colonel Howle and learned
+to like him. He was a man of talent, cool and audacious, and a liar of
+such singular fluency that he quite captivated the old Commoner's
+imagination.
+
+"Upon my soul, Howle," he declared soon after they met, "you made the
+mistake of your life going into the army. You're a born politician. You're
+what I call a natural liar, just as a horse is a pacer, a dog a setter.
+You lie without effort, with an ease and grace that excels all art. Had
+you gone into politics, you could easily have been Secretary of State, to
+say nothing of the vice-presidency. I would say President but for the fact
+that men of the highest genius never attain it."
+
+From that moment Colonel Howle had become his charmed henchman. Stoneman
+owned this man body and soul, not merely because he had befriended him
+when he was in trouble and friendless, but because the colonel recognized
+the power of the leader's daring spirit and revolutionary genius.
+
+On his left sat a negro of perhaps forty years, a man of charming features
+for a mulatto, who had evidently inherited the full physical
+characteristics of the Aryan race, while his dark yellowish eyes beneath
+his heavy brows glowed with the brightness of the African jungle. It was
+impossible to look at his superb face, with its large, finely chiselled
+lips and massive nose, his big neck and broad shoulders, and watch his
+eyes gleam beneath the projecting forehead, without seeing pictures of the
+primeval forest. "The head of a Caesar and the eyes of the jungle" was the
+phrase coined by an artist who painted his portrait.
+
+His hair was black and glossy and stood in dishevelled profusion on his
+head between a kink and a curl. He was an orator of great power, and
+stirred a negro audience as by magic.
+
+Lydia Brown had called Stoneman's attention to this man, Silas Lynch, and
+induced the statesman to send him to college. He had graduated with credit
+and had entered the Methodist ministry. In his preaching to the freedmen
+he had already become a marked man. No house could hold his audiences.
+
+As he stepped briskly into the dining-room and passed the brown woman, a
+close observer might have seen him suddenly press her hand and caught her
+sly answering smile, but the old man waiting at the head of the table saw
+nothing.
+
+The woman took her seat opposite Stoneman and presided over this curious
+group with the easy assurance of conscious power. Whatever her real
+position, she knew how to play the role she had chosen to assume.
+
+No more curious or sinister figure ever cast a shadow across the history
+of a great nation than did this mulatto woman in the most corrupt hour of
+American life. The grim old man who looked into her sleek tawny face and
+followed her catlike eyes was steadily gripping the Nation by the throat.
+Did he aim to make this woman the arbiter of its social life, and her
+ethics the limit of its moral laws?
+
+Even the white satellite who sat opposite Lynch flushed for a moment as
+the thought flashed through his brain.
+
+The old cynic, who alone knew his real purpose, was in his most genial
+mood to-night, and the grim lines of his powerful face relaxed into
+something like a smile as they ate and chatted and told good stories.
+
+Lynch watched him with keen interest. He knew his history and character,
+and had built on his genius a brilliant scheme of life.
+
+This man who meant to become the dictator of the Republic had come from
+the humblest early conditions. His father was a worthless character, from
+whom he had learned the trade of a shoemaker, but his mother, a woman of
+vigorous intellect and indomitable will, had succeeded in giving her lame
+boy a college education. He had early sworn to be a man of wealth, and to
+this purpose he had throttled the dreams and ideals of a wayward
+imagination.
+
+His hope of great wealth had not been realized. His iron mills in
+Pennsylvania had been destroyed by Lee's army. He had developed the habit
+of gambling, which brought its train of extravagant habits, tastes, and
+inevitable debts. In his vigorous manhood, in spite of his lameness, he
+had kept a pack of hounds and a stable of fine horses. He had used his
+skill in shoemaking to construct a set of stirrups to fit his lame feet,
+and had become an expert hunter to hounds.
+
+One thing he never neglected--to be in his seat in the House of
+Representatives and wear its royal crown of leadership, sick or well, day
+or night. The love of power was the breath of his nostrils, and his
+ambitions had at one time been boundless. His enormous power to-day was
+due to the fact that he had given up all hope of office beyond the robes
+of the king of his party. He had been offered a cabinet position by the
+elder Harrison and for some reason it had been withdrawn. He had been
+promised a place in Lincoln's cabinet, but some mysterious power had
+snatched it away. He was the one great man who had now no ambition for
+which to trim and fawn and lie, and for the very reason that he had
+abolished himself he was the most powerful leader who ever walked the
+halls of Congress.
+
+His contempt for public opinion was boundless. Bold, original, scornful of
+advice, of all the men who ever lived in our history he was the one man
+born to rule in the chaos which followed the assassination of the chief
+magistrate.
+
+Audacity was stamped in every line of his magnificent head. His choicest
+curses were for the cowards of his own party before whose blanched faces
+he shouted out the hidden things until they sank back in helpless silence
+and dismay. His speech was curt, his humour sardonic, his wit biting,
+cruel, and coarse.
+
+The incarnate soul of revolution, he despised convention and ridiculed
+respectability.
+
+There was but one weak spot in his armour--and the world never suspected
+it: the consuming passion with which he loved his two children. This was
+the side of his nature he had hidden from the eyes of man. A refined
+egotism, this passion, perhaps--for he meant to live his own life over in
+them--yet it was the one utterly human and lovable thing about him. And if
+his public policy was one of stupendous avarice, this dream of millions of
+confiscated wealth he meant to seize, it was not for himself but for his
+children.
+
+As he looked at Howle and Lynch seated in his library after dinner, with
+his great plans seething in his brain, his eyes were flashing, intense,
+and fiery, yet without colour--simply two centres of cold light.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said at length. "I am going to ask you to undertake for
+the Government, the Nation, and yourselves a dangerous and important
+mission. I say yourselves, because, in spite of all our beautiful lies,
+self is the centre of all human action. Mr. Lincoln has fortunately gone
+to his reward--fortunately for him and for his country. His death was
+necessary to save his life. He was a useful man living, more useful dead.
+Our party has lost its first President, but gained a god--why mourn?"
+
+"We will recover from our grief," said Howle.
+
+The old man went on, ignoring the interruption:
+
+"Things have somehow come my way. I am almost persuaded late in life that
+the gods love me. The insane fury of the North against the South for a
+crime which they were the last people on earth to dream of committing is,
+of course, a power to be used--but with caution. The first execution of a
+Southern leader on such an idiotic charge would produce a revolution of
+sentiment. The people are an aggregation of hysterical fools."
+
+"I thought you favoured the execution of the leaders of the rebellion?"
+said Lynch with surprise.
+
+"I did, but it is too late. Had they been tried by drum-head court-martial
+and shot dead red-handed as they stood on the field in their uniforms, all
+would have been well. Now sentiment is too strong. Grant showed his teeth
+to Stanton and he backed down from Lee's arrest. Sherman refused to shake
+hands with Stanton on the grandstand the day his army passed in review,
+and it's a wonder he didn't knock him down. Sherman was denounced as a
+renegade and traitor for giving Joseph E. Johnston the terms Lincoln
+ordered him to give. Lincoln dead, his terms are treason! Yet had he
+lived, we should have been called upon to applaud his mercy and
+patriotism. How can a man live in this world and keep his face straight?"
+
+"I believe God permitted Mr. Lincoln's death to give the great Commoner,
+the Leader of Leaders, the right of way," cried Lynch with enthusiasm.
+
+The old man smiled. With all his fierce spirit he was as susceptible to
+flattery as a woman--far more so than the sleek brown woman who carried
+the keys of his house.
+
+"The man at the other end of the avenue, who pretends to be President, in
+reality an alien of the conquered province of Tennessee, is pressing
+Lincoln's plan of 'restoring' the Union. He has organized State
+governments in the South, and their senators and representatives will
+appear at the Capitol in December for admission to Congress. He thinks
+they will enter----"
+
+The old man broke into a low laugh and rubbed his hands.
+
+"My full plans are not for discussion at this juncture. Suffice it to say,
+I mean to secure the future of our party and the safety of this nation.
+The one thing on which the success of my plan absolutely depends is the
+confiscation of the millions of acres of land owned by the white people of
+the South and its division among the negroes and those who fought and
+suffered in this war----"
+
+The old Commoner paused, pursed his lips, and fumbled his hands a moment,
+the nostrils of his eagle-beaked nose breathing rapacity, sensuality
+throbbing in his massive jaws, and despotism frowning from his heavy
+brows.
+
+"Stanton will probably add to the hilarity of nations, and amuse himself
+by hanging a few rebels," he went on, "but we will address ourselves to
+serious work. All men have their price, including the present company,
+with due apologies to the speaker----"
+
+Howle's eyes danced, and he licked his lips.
+
+"If I haven't suffered in this war, who has?"
+
+"Your reward will not be in accordance with your sufferings. It will be
+based on the efficiency with which you obey my orders. Read that----"
+
+He handed to him a piece of paper on which he had scrawled his secret
+instructions.
+
+Another he gave to Lynch.
+
+"Hand them back to me when you read them, and I will burn them. These
+instructions are not to pass the lips of any man until the time is
+ripe--four bare walls are not to hear them whispered."
+
+Both men handed to the leader the slips of paper simultaneously.
+
+"Are we agreed, gentlemen?"
+
+"Perfectly," answered Howle.
+
+"Your word is law to me, sir," said Lynch.
+
+"Then you will draw on me personally for your expenses, and leave for the
+South within forty-eight hours. I wish your reports delivered to me two
+weeks before the meeting of Congress."
+
+As Lynch passed through the hall on his way to the door, the brown woman
+bade him good-night and pressed into his hand a letter.
+
+As his yellow fingers closed on the missive, his eyes flashed for a moment
+with catlike humour.
+
+The woman's face wore the mask of a sphinx.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+SWEETHEARTS
+
+
+When the first shock of horror at her husband's peril passed, it left a
+strange new light in Mrs. Cameron's eyes.
+
+The heritage of centuries of heroic blood from the martyrs of old Scotland
+began to flash its inspiration from the past. Her heart beat with the
+unconscious life of men and women who had stood in the stocks, and walked
+in chains to the stake with songs on their lips.
+
+The threat against the life of Doctor Cameron had not only stirred her
+martyr blood: it had roused the latent heroism of a beautiful girlhood. To
+her he had ever been the lover and the undimmed hero of her girlish
+dreams. She spent whole hours locked in her room alone. Margaret knew that
+she was on her knees. She always came forth with shining face and with
+soft words on her lips.
+
+She struggled for two months in vain efforts to obtain a single interview
+with him, or to obtain a copy of the charges. Doctor Cameron had been
+placed in the old Capitol Prison, already crowded to the utmost. He was in
+delicate health, and so ill when she had left home he could not accompany
+her to Richmond.
+
+Not a written or spoken word was allowed to pass those prison doors. She
+could communicate with him only through the officers in charge. Every
+message from him was the same. "I love you always. Do not worry. Go home
+the moment you can leave Ben. I fear the worst at Piedmont."
+
+When he had sent this message, he would sit down and write the truth in a
+little diary he kept:
+
+"Another day of anguish. How long, O Lord? Just one touch of her hand, one
+last pressure of her lips, and I am content. I have no desire to live--I
+am tired."
+
+The officers repeated the verbal messages, but they made no impression on
+Mrs. Cameron. By a mental telepathy which had always linked her life with
+his her soul had passed those prison bars. If he had written the pitiful
+record with a dagger's point on her heart, she could not have felt it more
+keenly.
+
+At times overwhelmed, she lay prostrate and sobbed in half-articulate
+cries. And then from the silence and mystery of the spirit world in which
+she felt the beat of the heart of Eternal Love would come again the
+strange peace that passeth understanding. She would rise and go forth to
+her task with a smile.
+
+In July she saw Mrs. Surratt taken from this old Capitol Prison to be hung
+with Payne, Herold, and Atzerodt for complicity in the assassination. The
+military commission before whom this farce of justice was enacted,
+suspicious of the testimony of the perjured wretches who had sworn her
+life away, had filed a memorandum with their verdict asking the President
+for mercy.
+
+President Johnson never saw this memorandum. It was secretly removed in
+the War Department, and only replaced after he had signed the death
+warrant.
+
+In vain Annie Surratt, the weeping daughter, flung herself on the steps of
+the White House on the fatal day, begging and praying to see the
+President. She could not believe they would allow her mother to be
+murdered in the face of a recommendation of mercy. The fatal hour struck
+at last, and the girl left the White House with set eyes and blanched
+face, muttering incoherent curses.
+
+The Chief Magistrate sat within, unconscious of the hideous tragedy that
+was being enacted in his name. When he discovered the infamy by which he
+had been made the executioner of an innocent woman, he made his first
+demand that Edwin M. Stanton resign from his cabinet as Secretary of War.
+And for the first time in the history of America, a cabinet officer waived
+the question of honour and refused to resign.
+
+With a shudder and blush of shame, strong men saw that day the executioner
+gather the ropes tightly three times around the dress of an innocent
+American mother and bind her ankles with cords. She fainted and sank
+backward upon the attendants, the poor limbs yielding at last to the
+mortal terror of death. But they propped her up and sprung the fatal
+trap.
+
+A feeling of uncertainty and horror crept over the city and the Nation, as
+rumours of the strange doings of the "Bureau of Military Justice," with
+its secret factory of testimony and powers of tampering with verdicts,
+began to find their way in whispered stories among the people.
+
+Public opinion, however, had as yet no power of adjustment. It was an hour
+of lapse to tribal insanity. Things had gone wrong. The demand for a
+scapegoat, blind, savage, and unreasoning, had not spent itself. The
+Government could do anything as yet, and the people would applaud.
+
+Mrs. Cameron had tried in vain to gain a hearing before the President.
+Each time she was directed to apply to Mr. Stanton. She refused to attempt
+to see him, and again turned to Elsie for help. She had learned that the
+same witnesses who had testified against Mrs. Surratt were being used to
+convict Doctor Cameron, and her heart was sick with fear.
+
+"Ask your father," she pleaded, "to write President Johnson a letter in my
+behalf. Whatever his politics, he can't be _your_ father and not be good
+at heart."
+
+Elsie paled for a moment. It was the one request she had dreaded. She
+thought of her father and Stanton with dread. How far he was supporting
+the Secretary of War she could only vaguely guess. He rarely spoke of
+politics to her, much as he loved her.
+
+"I'll try, Mrs. Cameron," she faltered. "My father is in town to-day and
+takes dinner with us before he leaves for Pennsylvania to-night. I'll go
+at once."
+
+With fear, and yet boldly, she went straight home to present her request.
+She knew he was a man who never cherished small resentments, however cruel
+and implacable might be his public policies. And yet she dreaded to put it
+to the test.
+
+"Father, I've a very important request to make of you," she said gravely.
+
+"Very well, my child, you need not be so solemn. What is it?"
+
+"I've some friends in great distress--Mrs. Cameron, of South Carolina, and
+her daughter Margaret."
+
+"Friends of yours?" he asked with an incredulous smile. "Where on earth
+did you find them?"
+
+"In the hospital, of course. Mrs. Cameron is not allowed to see her
+husband, who has been here in jail for over two months. He cannot write to
+her, nor can he receive a letter from her. He is on trial for his life, is
+ill and helpless, and is not allowed to know the charges against him,
+while hired witnesses and detectives have broken open his house, searched
+his papers, and are ransacking heaven and earth to convict him of a crime
+of which he never dreamed. It's a shame. You don't approve of such things,
+I know?"
+
+"What's the use of my expressing an opinion when you have already settled
+it?" he answered good-humouredly.
+
+"You _don't_ approve of such injustice?"
+
+"Certainly not, my child. Stanton's frantic efforts to hang a lot of
+prominent Southern men for complicity in Booth's crime is sheer insanity.
+Nobody who has any sense believes them guilty. As a politician I use
+popular clamour for my purposes, but I am not an idiot. When I go gunning,
+I never use a popgun or hunt small game."
+
+"Then you will write the President a letter asking that they be allowed to
+see Doctor Cameron?"
+
+The old man frowned.
+
+"Think, father, if you were in jail and friendless, and I were trying to
+see you----"
+
+"Tut, tut, my dear, it's not that I am unwilling--I was only thinking of
+the unconscious humour of _my_ making a request of the man who at present
+accidentally occupies the White House. Of all the men on earth, this alien
+from the province of Tennessee! But I'll do it for you. When did you ever
+know me to deny my help to a weak man or woman in distress?"
+
+"Never, father. I was sure you would do it," she answered warmly.
+
+He wrote the letter at once and handed it to her.
+
+She bent and kissed him.
+
+"I can't tell you how glad I am to know that you have no part in such
+injustice."
+
+"You should not have believed me such a fool, but I'll forgive you for the
+kiss. Run now with this letter to your rebel friends, you little traitor!
+Wait a minute----"
+
+He shuffled to his feet, placed his hand tenderly on her head, and stooped
+and kissed the shining hair.
+
+"I wonder if you know how I love you? How I've dreamed of your future? I
+may not see you every day as I wish; I'm absorbed in great affairs. But
+more and more I think of you and Phil. I'll have a big surprise for you
+both some day."
+
+"Your love is all I ask," she answered simply.
+
+Within an hour, Mrs. Cameron found herself before the new President. The
+letter had opened the door as by magic. She poured out her story with
+impetuous eloquence while Mr. Johnson listened in uneasy silence. His
+ruddy face, his hesitating manner, and restless eyes were in striking
+contrast to the conscious power of the tall dark man who had listened so
+tenderly and sympathetically to her story of Ben but a few weeks before.
+
+The President asked:
+
+"Have you seen Mr. Stanton?"
+
+"I have seen him once," she cried with sudden passion. "It is enough. If
+that man were God on His throne, I would swear allegiance to the devil and
+fight him!"
+
+The President lifted his eyebrows and his lips twitched with a smile:
+
+"I shouldn't say that your spirits are exactly drooping! I'd like to be
+near and hear you make that remark to the distinguished Secretary of
+War."
+
+"Will you grant my prayer?" she pleaded.
+
+"I will consider the matter," he promised evasively.
+
+Mrs. Cameron's heart sank.
+
+"Mr. President," she cried bitterly, "I have felt sure that I had but to
+see you face to face and you could not deny me. Surely it is but justice
+that he have the right to see his loved ones, to consult with counsel, to
+know the charges against him, and defend his life when attacked in his
+poverty and ruin by all the power of a mighty government? He is feeble and
+broken in health and suffering from wounds received carrying the flag of
+the Union to victory in Mexico. Whatever his errors of judgment in this
+war, it is a shame that a Nation for which he once bared his breast in
+battle should treat him as an outlaw without a trial."
+
+"You must remember, madam," interrupted the President, "that these are
+extraordinary times, and that popular clamour, however unjust, will make
+itself felt and must be heeded by those in power. I am sorry for you, and
+I trust it may be possible for me to grant your request."
+
+"But I wish it now," she urged. "He sends me word I must go home. I can't
+leave without seeing him. I will die first."
+
+She drew closer and continued in throbbing tones:
+
+"Mr. President, you are a native Carolinian--you are of Scotch Covenanter
+blood. You are of my own people of the great past, whose tears and
+sufferings are our common glory and birthright. Come, you must hear me--I
+will take no denial. Give me now the order to see my husband!"
+
+The President hesitated, struggling with deep emotion, called his
+secretary, and gave the order.
+
+As she hurried away with Elsie, who insisted on accompanying her to the
+jail door, the girl said:
+
+"Mrs. Cameron, I fear you are without money. You must let me help you
+until you can return it."
+
+"You are the dearest little heart I've met in all the world, I think
+sometimes," said the older woman, looking at her tenderly. "I wonder how I
+can ever pay you for half you've done already."
+
+"The doing of it has been its own reward," was the soft reply. "May I help
+you?"
+
+"If I need it, yes. But I trust it will not be necessary. I still have a
+little store of gold Doctor Cameron was wise enough to hoard during the
+war. I brought half of it with me when I left home, and we buried the
+rest. I hope to find it on my return. And if we can save the twenty bales
+of cotton we have hidden we shall be relieved of want."
+
+"I'm ashamed of my country when I think of such ignoble methods as have
+been used against Doctor Cameron. My father is indignant, too."
+
+The last sentence Elsie spoke with eager girlish pride.
+
+"I am very grateful to your father for his letter. I am sorry he has left
+the city before I could meet and thank him personally. You must tell him
+for me."
+
+At the jail the order of the President was not honoured for three hours,
+and Mrs. Cameron paced the street in angry impatience at first and then in
+dull despair.
+
+"Do you think that man Stanton would dare defy the President?" she asked
+anxiously.
+
+"No," said Elsie, "but he is delaying as long as possible as an act of
+petty tyranny."
+
+At last the messenger arrived from the War Department permitting an order
+of the Chief Magistrate of the nation, the Commander-in-Chief of its Army
+and Navy, to be executed.
+
+The grated door swung on its heavy hinges, and the wife and mother lay
+sobbing in the arms of the lover of her youth.
+
+For two hours they poured into each other's hearts the story of their
+sorrows and struggles during the six fateful months that had passed. When
+she would return from every theme back to his danger, he would laugh her
+fears to scorn.
+
+"Nonsense, my dear, I'm as innocent as a babe. Mr. Davis was suffering
+from erysipelas, and I kept him in my house that night to relieve his
+pain. It will all blow over. I'm happy now that I have seen you. Ben will
+be up in a few days. You must return at once. You have no idea of the wild
+chaos at home. I left Jake in charge. I have implicit faith in him, but
+there's no telling what may happen. I will not spend another moment in
+peace until you go."
+
+The proud old man spoke of his own danger with easy assurance. He was
+absolutely certain, since the day of Mrs. Surratt's execution, that he
+would be railroaded to the gallows by the same methods. He had long looked
+on the end with indifference, and had ceased to desire to live except to
+see his loved ones again.
+
+In vain she warned him of danger.
+
+"My peril is nothing, my love," he answered quietly. "At home, the horrors
+of a servile reign of terror have become a reality. These prison walls do
+not interest me. My heart is with our stricken people. You must go home.
+Our neighbour, Mr. Lenoir, is slowly dying. His wife will always be a
+child. Little Marion is older and more self-reliant. I feel as if they are
+our own children. There are so many who need us. They have always looked
+to me for guidance and help. You can do more for them than any one else.
+My calling is to heal others. You have always helped me. Do now as I ask
+you."
+
+At last she consented to leave for Piedmont on the following day, and he
+smiled.
+
+"Kiss Ben and Margaret for me and tell them that I'll be with them soon,"
+he said cheerily. He meant in the spirit, not the flesh. Not the faintest
+hope of life even flickered in his mind.
+
+In the last farewell embrace a faint tremor of the soul, half sigh, half
+groan, escaped his lips, and he drew her again to his breast, whispering:
+
+"Always my sweetheart, good, beautiful, brave, and true!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE JOY OF LIVING
+
+
+Within two weeks after the departure of Mrs. Cameron and Margaret, the
+wounded soldier had left the hospital with Elsie's hand resting on his arm
+and her keen eyes watching his faltering steps. She had promised Margaret
+to take her place until he was strong again. She was afraid to ask herself
+the meaning of the songs that were welling up from the depth of her own
+soul. She told herself again and again that she was fulfilling her ideal
+of unselfish human service.
+
+Ben's recovery was rapid, and he soon began to give evidence of his
+boundless joy in the mere fact of life.
+
+He utterly refused to believe his father in danger.
+
+"What, my dad a conspirator, an assassin!" he cried, with a laugh. "Why,
+he wouldn't kill a flea without apologising to it. And as for plots and
+dark secrets, he never had a secret in his life and couldn't keep one if
+he had it. My mother keeps all the family secrets. Crime couldn't stick to
+him any more than dirty water to a duck's back!"
+
+"But we must secure his release on parole, that he may defend himself."
+
+"Of course. But we won't cross any bridges till we come to them. I never
+saw things so bad they couldn't be worse. Just think what I've been
+through. The war's over. Don't worry."
+
+He looked at her tenderly.
+
+"Get that banjo and play 'Get out of the Wilderness!'"
+
+His spirit was contagious and his good humour resistless. Elsie spent the
+days of his convalescence in an unconscious glow of pleasure in his
+companionship. His handsome boyish face, his bearing, his whole
+personality, invited frankness and intimacy. It was a divine gift, this
+magnetism, the subtle meeting of quick intelligence, tact, and sympathy.
+His voice was tender and penetrating, with soft caresses in its tones. His
+vision of life was large and generous, with a splendid carelessness about
+little things that didn't count. Each day Elsie saw new and striking
+traits of his character which drew her.
+
+"What will we do if Stanton arrests you one of these fine days?" she asked
+him one day.
+
+"Afraid they'll nab me for something?" he exclaimed. "Well, that is a
+joke. Don't you worry. The Yankees know who to fool with. I licked 'em too
+many times for them to bother me any more."
+
+"I was under the impression that you got licked," Elsie observed.
+
+"Don't you believe it. We wore ourselves out whipping the other fellows."
+
+Elsie smiled, took up the banjo, and asked him to sing while she played.
+
+She had no idea that he could sing, yet to her surprise he sang his camp
+songs boldly, tenderly, and with deep, expressive feeling.
+
+As the girl listened, the memory of the horrible hours of suspense she had
+spent with his mother when his unconscious life hung on a thread came
+trooping back into her heart and a tear dimmed her eyes.
+
+And he began to look at her with a new wonder and joy slowly growing in
+his soul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+HIDDEN TREASURE
+
+
+Ben had spent a month of vain effort to secure his father's release. He
+had succeeded in obtaining for him a removal to more comfortable quarters,
+books to read, and the privilege of a daily walk under guard and parole.
+The doctor's genial temper, the wide range of his knowledge, the charm of
+his personality, and his heroism in suffering had captivated the surgeons
+who attended him and made friends of every jailer and guard.
+
+Elsie was now using all her woman's wit to secure a copy of the charges
+against him as formulated by the Judge Advocate General, who, in defiance
+of civil law, still claimed control of these cases.
+
+To the boy's sanguine temperament the whole proceeding had been a huge
+farce from the beginning, and at the last interview with his father he had
+literally laughed him into good humour.
+
+"Look here, pa," he cried. "I believe you're trying to slip off and leave
+us in this mess. It's not fair. It's easy to die."
+
+"Who said I was going to die?"
+
+"I heard you were trying to crawl out that way."
+
+"Well, it's a mistake. I'm going to live just for the fun of disappointing
+my enemies and to keep you company. But you'd better get hold of a copy of
+these charges against me--if you don't want me to escape."
+
+"It's a funny world if a man can be condemned to death without any
+information on the subject."
+
+"My son, we are now in the hands of the revolutionists, army sutlers,
+contractors, and adventurers. The Nation will touch the lowest tide-mud of
+its degradation within the next few years. No man can predict the end."
+
+"Oh, go 'long!" said Ben. "You've got jail cobwebs in your eyes."
+
+"I'm depending on you."
+
+"I'll pull you through if you don't lie down on me and die to get out of
+trouble. You know you _can_ die if you try hard enough."
+
+"I promise you, my boy," he said with a laugh.
+
+"Then I'll let you read this letter from home," Ben said, suddenly
+thrusting it before him.
+
+The doctor's hand trembled a little as he put on his glasses and read:
+
+  _My Dear Boy_: I cannot tell you how much good your bright letters
+  have done us. It's like opening the window and letting in the sunlight
+  while fresh breezes blow through one's soul.
+
+  Margaret and I have had stirring times. I send you enclosed an order
+  for the last dollar of money we have left. You must hoard it. Make it
+  last until your father is safe at home. I dare not leave it here.
+  Nothing is safe. Every piece of silver and everything that could be
+  carried has been stolen since we returned.
+
+  Uncle Aleck betrayed the place Jake had hidden our twenty precious
+  bales of cotton. The war is long since over, but the "Treasury Agent"
+  declared them confiscated, and then offered to relieve us of his order
+  if we gave him five bales, each worth three hundred dollars in gold. I
+  agreed, and within a week another thief came and declared the other
+  fifteen bales confiscated. They steal it, and the Government never
+  gets a cent. We dared not try to sell it in open market, as every bale
+  exposed for sale is "confiscated" at once.
+
+  No crop was planted this summer. The negroes are all drawing rations
+  at the Freedman's Bureau.
+
+  We have turned our house into a hotel, and our table has become
+  famous. Margaret is a treasure. She has learned to do everything. We
+  tried to raise a crop on the farm when we came home, but the negroes
+  stopped work. The Agent of the Bureau came to us and said he could
+  send them back for a fee of $50. We paid it, and they worked a week.
+  We found it easier to run a hotel. We hope to start the farm next
+  year.
+
+  Our new minister at the Presbyterian Church is young, handsome, and
+  eloquent--Rev. Hugh McAlpin.
+
+  Mr. Lenoir died last week--but his end was so beautiful, our tears
+  were half joy. He talked incessantly of your father and how the
+  country missed him. He seemed much better the day before the end came,
+  and we took him for a little drive to Lovers' Leap. It was there,
+  sixteen years ago, he made love to Jeannie. When we propped him up on
+  the rustic seat, and he looked out over the cliff and the river below,
+  I have never seen a face so transfigured with peace and joy.
+
+  "What a beautiful world it is, my dears!" he exclaimed, taking Jeannie
+  and Marion both by the hand.
+
+  They began to cry, and he said with a smile:
+
+  "Come now--do you love me?"
+
+  And they covered his hands with kisses.
+
+  "Well, then you must promise me two things faithfully here, with Mrs.
+  Cameron to witness!"
+
+  "We promise," they both said in a breath.
+
+  "That when I fall asleep, not one thread of black shall ever cloud the
+  sunlight of our little home, that you will never wear it, and that you
+  will show your love for me by making my flowers grow richer, that you
+  will keep my memory green by always being as beautiful as you are
+  to-day, and make this old world a sweeter place to live in. I wish
+  you, Jeannie, my mate, to keep on making the young people glad. Don't
+  let their joys be less even for a month because I have laid down to
+  rest. Let them sing and dance----"
+
+  "Oh, Papa!" cried Marion.
+
+  "Certainly, my little serious beauty--I'll not be far away, I'll be
+  near and breathe my songs into their hearts, and into yours--you both
+  promise?"
+
+  "Yes, yes!" they both cried.
+
+  As we drove back through the woods, he smiled tenderly and said to
+  me:
+
+  "My neighbour, Doctor Cameron, pays taxes on these woods, but I own
+  them! Their sighing boughs, stirred by the breezes, have played for me
+  oratorios grander than all the scores of human genius. I'll hear the
+  Choir Invisible play them when I sleep."
+
+  He died that night suddenly. With his last breath he sighed:
+
+  "Draw the curtains and let me see again the moonlit woods!"
+
+  They are trying to carry out his wishes. I found they had nothing to
+  eat, and that he had really died from insufficient nourishment--a
+  polite expression meaning starvation. I've divided half our little
+  store with them and send the rest to you. I think Marion more and more
+  the incarnate soul of her father. I feel as if they are both my
+  children.
+
+  My little grandchick, Hugh, is the sweetest youngster alive. He was a
+  wee thing when you left. Mrs. Lenoir kept him when they arrested your
+  father. He is so much like your brother Hugh I feel as if he has come
+  to life again. You should hear him say grace, so solemnly and
+  tenderly, we can't help crying. He made it up himself. This is what he
+  says at every meal:
+
+  "God, please give my grandpa something good to eat in jail, keep him
+  well, don't let the pains hurt him any more, and bring him home to me
+  quick, for Jesus' sake. Amen."
+
+  I never knew before how the people loved the doctor, nor how dependent
+  they were on him for help and guidance. Men, both white and coloured,
+  come here every day to ask about him. Some of them come from far up in
+  the mountains.
+
+  God alone knows how lonely our home and the world has seemed without
+  him. They say that those who love and live the close sweet home life
+  for years grow alike in soul and body, in tastes, ways, and habits. I
+  find it so. People have told me that your father and I are more alike
+  than brother and sister of the same blood. In spirit I'm sure it's
+  true. I know you love him and that you will leave nothing undone for
+  his health and safety. Tell him that my only cure for loneliness in
+  his absence is my fight to keep the wolf from the door, and save our
+  home against his coming.
+
+                                               Lovingly, your Mother.
+
+When the doctor had finished the reading, he looked out the window of the
+jail at the shining dome of the Capitol for a moment in silence.
+
+"Do you know, my boy, that you have the heritage of royal blood? You are
+the child of a wonderful mother. I'm ashamed when I think of the helpless
+stupor under which I have given up, and then remember the deathless
+courage with which she has braved it all--the loss of her boys, her
+property, your troubles and mine. She has faced the world alone like a
+wounded lioness standing over her cubs. And now she turns her home into a
+hotel, and begins life in a strange new world without one doubt of her
+success. The South is yet rich even in its ruin."
+
+"Then you'll fight and go back to her with me?"
+
+"Yes, never fear."
+
+"Good! You see, we're so poor now, pa, you're lucky to be saving a board
+bill here. I'd 'conspire' myself and come in with you but for the fact it
+would hamper me a little in helping you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+ACROSS THE CHASM
+
+
+When Ben had fully recovered and his father's case looked hopeful, Elsie
+turned to her study of music, and the Southern boy suddenly waked to the
+fact that the great mystery of life was upon him. He was in love at
+last--genuinely, deeply, without one reservation. He had from habit
+flirted in a harmless way with every girl he knew. He left home with
+little Marion Lenoir's girlish kiss warm on his lips. He had made love to
+many a pretty girl in old Virginia as the red tide of war had ebbed and
+flowed around Stuart's magic camps.
+
+But now the great hour of the soul had struck. No sooner had he dropped
+the first tender words that might have their double meaning, feeling his
+way cautiously toward her, than she had placed a gulf of dignity between
+them, and attempted to cut every tie that bound her life to his.
+
+It had been so sudden it took his breath away. Could he win her? The word
+"fail" had never been in his vocabulary. It had never run in the speech of
+his people.
+
+Yes, he would win if it was the only thing he did in this world. And
+forthwith he set about it. Life took on new meaning and new glory. What
+mattered war or wounds, pain or poverty, jails and revolutions--it was the
+dawn of life!
+
+He sent her a flower every day and pinned one just like it on his coat.
+And every night found him seated by her side. She greeted him cordially,
+but the gulf yawned between them. His courtesy and self-control struck her
+with surprise and admiration. In the face of her coldness he carried about
+him an air of smiling deference and gallantry.
+
+She finally told him of her determination to go to New York to pursue her
+studies until Phil had finished the term of his enlistment in his
+regiment, which had been ordered on permanent duty in the West.
+
+He laughed with his eyes at this announcement, blinking the lashes rapidly
+without moving his lips. It was a peculiar habit of his when deeply moved
+by a sudden thought. It had flashed over him like lightning that she was
+trying to get away from him. She would not do that unless she cared.
+
+"When are you going?" he asked quietly.
+
+"Day after to-morrow."
+
+"Then you will give me one afternoon for a sail on the river to say
+good-bye and thank you for what you have done for me and mine?"
+
+She hesitated, laughed, and refused.
+
+"To-morrow at four o'clock I'll call for you," he said firmly. "If there's
+no wind, we can drift with the tide."
+
+"I will not have time to go."
+
+"Promptly at four," he repeated as he left.
+
+Ben spent hours that night weighing the question of how far he should dare
+to speak his love. It had been such an easy thing before. Now it seemed a
+question of life and death. Twice the magic words had been on his lips,
+and each time something in her manner chilled him into silence.
+
+Was she cold and incapable of love? No; this manner of the North was on
+the surface. He knew that deep down within her nature lay banked and
+smouldering fires of passion for the one man whose breath could stir it
+into flame. He felt this all the keener now that the spell of her
+companionship and the sweet intimacy of her daily ministry to him had been
+broken. The memory of little movements of her petite figure, the glance of
+her warm amber eyes, and the touch of her hand--all had their tongues of
+revelation to his eager spirit.
+
+He found her ready at four o'clock.
+
+"You see I decided to go after all," she said.
+
+"Yes, I knew you would," he answered.
+
+She was dressed in a simple suit of navy-blue cloth cut V-shaped at the
+throat, showing the graceful lines of her exquisite neck as it melted into
+the plump shoulders. She had scorned hoop skirts.
+
+He admired her for this, and yet it made him uneasy. A woman who could
+defy an edict of fashion was a new thing under the sun, and it scared
+him.
+
+They were seated in the little sailboat now, drifting out with the tide.
+It was a perfect day in October, one of those matchless days of Indian
+summer in the Virginia climate when an infinite peace and vast brooding
+silence fill the earth and sky until one feels that words are a
+sacrilege.
+
+Neither of them spoke for minutes, and his heart grew bold in the
+stillness. No girl could be still who was unmoved.
+
+She was seated just in front of him on the left, with her hand idly
+rippling the surface of the silvery waters, gazing at the wooded cliff on
+the river banks clothed now in their gorgeous robes of yellow, purple,
+scarlet, and gold.
+
+The soft strains of distant music came from a band in the fort, and her
+hand in the rippling water seemed its accompaniment.
+
+Ben was conscious only of her presence. Every sight and sound of nature
+seemed to be blended in her presence. Never in all his life had he seen
+anything so delicately beautiful as the ripe rose colour of her cheeks,
+and all the tints of autumn's glory seemed to melt into the gold of her
+hair.
+
+And those eyes he felt that God had never set in such a face before--rich
+amber, warm and glowing, big and candid, courageous and truthful.
+
+"Are you dead again?" she asked demurely.
+
+"Well, as the Irishman said in answer to his mate's question when he fell
+off the house, 'not dead--but spacheless.'"
+
+He was quick to see the opening her question with its memories had made,
+and took advantage of it.
+
+"Look here, Miss Elsie, you're too honest, independent, and candid to play
+hide-and-seek with me. I want to ask you a plain question. You've been
+trying to pick a quarrel of late. What have I done?"
+
+"Nothing. It has simply come to me that our lives are far apart. The gulf
+between us is real and very deep. Your father was but yesterday a
+slaveholder----"
+
+Ben grinned:
+
+"Yes, your slave-trading grandfather sold them to us the day before."
+
+Elsie blushed and bristled for a fight.
+
+"You won't mind if I give you a few lessons in history, will you?" Ben
+asked softly.
+
+"Not in the least. I didn't know that Southerners studied history," she
+answered, with a toss of her head.
+
+"We made a specialty of the history of slavery, at least. I had a dear old
+teacher at home who fairly blazed with light on this subject. He is one of
+the best-read men in America. He happens to be in jail just now. But I
+haven't forgotten--I know it by heart."
+
+"I am waiting for light," she interrupted cynically.
+
+"The South is no more to blame for negro slavery than the North. Our
+slaves were stolen from Africa by Yankee skippers. When a slaver arrived
+at Boston, your pious Puritan clergyman offered public prayer of thanks
+that 'A gracious and overruling Providence had been pleased to bring to
+this land of freedom another cargo of benighted heathen to enjoy the
+blessings of a gospel dispensation----'"
+
+She looked at him with angry incredulity and cried:
+
+"Go on."
+
+"Twenty-three times the Legislature of Virginia passed acts against the
+importation of slaves, which the king vetoed on petition of the
+Massachusetts slave traders. Jefferson made these acts of the king one of
+the grievances of the Declaration of Independence, but a Massachusetts
+member succeeded in striking it out. The Southern men in the convention
+which framed the Constitution put into it a clause abolishing the slave
+trade, but the Massachusetts men succeeded in adding a clause extending
+the trade twenty years----"
+
+He smiled and paused.
+
+"Go on," she said, with impatience.
+
+"In Colonial days a negro woman was publicly burned to death in Boston.
+The first Abolition paper was published in Tennessee by Embree. Benjamin
+Lundy, his successor, could not find a single Abolitionist in Boston. In
+1828 over half the people of Tennessee favoured Abolition. At this time
+there were one hundred and forty Abolition Societies in America--one
+hundred and three in the South, and not one in Massachusetts. It was not
+until 1836 that Massachusetts led in Abolition--not until all her own
+slaves had been sold to us at a profit and the slave trade had been
+destroyed----"
+
+She looked at Ben with anger for a moment and met his tantalizing look of
+good humour.
+
+"Can you stand any more?"
+
+"Certainly, I enjoy it."
+
+"I'm just breaking down the barriers--so to speak," he said, with the
+laughter still lurking in his eyes, as he looked steadily ahead.
+
+"By all means go on," she said soberly. "I thought at first you were
+trying to tease me. I see that you are in earnest."
+
+"Never more so. This is about the only little path of history I'm at home
+in--I love to show off in it. I heard a cheerful idiot say the other day
+that your father meant to carry the civilization of Massachusetts to the
+Rio Grande until we had a Democracy in America. I smiled. While
+Massachusetts was enforcing laws about the dress of the rich and the poor,
+founding a church with a whipping-post, jail, and gibbet, and limiting the
+right to vote to a church membership fixed by pew rents, Carolina was the
+home of freedom where first the equal rights of men were proclaimed. New
+England people worth less than one thousand dollars were prohibited by law
+from wearing the garb of a gentleman, gold or silver lace, buttons on the
+knees, or to walk in great boots, or their women to wear silk or scarfs,
+while the Quakers, Maryland Catholics, Baptists, and Scotch-Irish
+Presbyterians were everywhere in the South the heralds of man's equality
+before the law."
+
+"But barring our ancestors, I have some things against the men of this
+generation."
+
+"Have I, too, sinned and come short?" he asked with mock gravity.
+
+"Our ideals of life are far apart," she firmly declared.
+
+"What ails my ideal?"
+
+"Your egotism, for one thing. The air with which you calmly select what
+pleases your fancy. Northern men are bad enough--the insolence of a
+Southerner is beyond words!"
+
+[Illustration: LILLIAN GISH AS ELSIE, AND THE SENTINEL.]
+
+"You don't say so!" cried Ben, bursting into a hearty laugh. "Isn't your
+aunt, Mrs. Farnham, the president of a club?"
+
+"Yes, and she is a very brilliant woman."
+
+"Enlighten me further."
+
+"I deny your heaven-born male kingship. The lord of creation is after all
+a very inferior animal--nearer the brute creation, weaker in infancy,
+shorter lived, more imperfectly developed, given to fighting, and addicted
+to idiocy. I never saw a female idiot in my life--did you?"
+
+"Come to think of it, I never did," acknowledged Ben with comic gravity.
+"What else?"
+
+"Isn't that enough?"
+
+"It's nothing. I agree with everything you say, but it is irrelevant. I'm
+studying law, you know."
+
+"I have a personality of my own. You and your kind assume the right to
+absorb all lesser lights."
+
+"Certainly, I'm a man."
+
+"I don't care to be absorbed by a mere man."
+
+"Don't wish to be protected, sheltered, and cared for?"
+
+"I dream of a life that shall be larger than the four walls of a home. I
+have never gone into hysterics over the idea of becoming a cook and
+housekeeper without wages, and snuffing my life out while another grows,
+expands, and claims the lordship of the world. I can sing. My voice is to
+me what eloquence is to man. My ideal is an intellectual companion who
+will inspire and lead me to develop all that I feel within to its highest
+reach."
+
+She paused a moment and looked defiantly into Ben's brown eyes, about
+which a smile was constantly playing. He looked away, and again the river
+echoed with his contagious laughter. She had to join in spite of herself.
+He laughed with boyish gayety. It danced in his eyes, and gave spring to
+every movement of his slender wiry body. She felt its contagion enfold
+her.
+
+His laughter melted into a song. In a voice vibrant with joy he sang, "If
+you get there before I do, tell 'em I'm comin' too!"
+
+As Elsie listened, her anger grew as she recalled the amazing folly that
+had induced her to tell the secret feelings of her inmost soul to this man
+almost a stranger. Whence came this miracle of influence about him, this
+gift of intimacy? She felt a shock as if she had been immodest. She was in
+an agony of doubt as to what he was thinking of her, and dreaded to meet
+his gaze.
+
+And yet, when he turned toward her, his whole being a smiling compound of
+dark Southern blood and bone and fire, at the sound of his voice all doubt
+and questioning melted.
+
+"Do you know," he said earnestly, "that you are the funniest, most
+charming girl I ever met?"
+
+"Thanks. I've heard your experience has been large for one of your age."
+
+Ben's eyes danced.
+
+"Perhaps, yes. You appeal to things in me that I didn't know were
+there--to all the senses of body and soul at once. Your strength of mind,
+with its conceits, and your quick little temper seem so odd and out of
+place, clothed in the gentleness of your beauty."
+
+"I was never more serious in my life. There are other things more personal
+about you that I do not like."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Your cavalier habits."
+
+"Cavalier fiddlesticks. There are no Cavaliers in my country. We are all
+Covenanter and Huguenot folks. The idea that Southern boys are lazy
+loafing dreamers is a myth. I was raised on the catechism."
+
+"You love to fish and hunt and frolic--you flirt with every girl you meet,
+and you drink sometimes. I often feel that you are cruel and that I do not
+know you."
+
+Ben's face grew serious, and the red scar in the edge of his hair suddenly
+became livid with the rush of blood.
+
+"Perhaps I don't mean that you shall know all yet," he said slowly. "My
+ideal of a man is one that leads, charms, dominates, and yet eludes. I
+confess that I'm close kin to an angel and a devil, and that I await a
+woman's hand to lead me into the ways of peace and life."
+
+The spiritual earnestness of the girl was quick to catch the subtle appeal
+of his last words. His broad, high forehead, straight, masterly nose, with
+its mobile nostrils, seemed to her very manly at just that moment and very
+appealing. A soft answer was on her lips.
+
+He saw it, and leaned toward her in impulsive tenderness. A timid look on
+her face caused him to sink back in silence.
+
+They had now drifted near the city. The sun was slowly sinking in a
+smother of fiery splendour that mirrored its changing hues in the still
+water. The hush of the harvest fullness of autumn life was over all
+nature. They passed a camp of soldiers and then a big hospital on the
+banks above. A gun flashed from the hill, and the flag dropped from its
+staff.
+
+The girl's eyes lingered on the flower in his coat a moment and then on
+the red scar in the edge of his dark hair, and somehow the difference
+between them seemed to melt into the falling twilight. Only his nearness
+was real. Again a strange joy held her.
+
+He threw her a look of tenderness, and she began to tremble. A sea gull
+poised a moment above them and broke into a laugh.
+
+Bending nearer, he gently took her hand, and said:
+
+"I love you!"
+
+A sob caught her breath and she buried her face on her arm.
+
+"I am for you, and you are for me. Why beat your wings against the thing
+that is and must be? What else matters? With all my sins and faults my
+land is yours--a land of sunshine, eternal harvests, and everlasting song,
+old-fashioned and provincial perhaps, but kind and hospitable. Around its
+humblest cottage song birds live and mate and nest and never leave. The
+winged ones of your own cold fields have heard their call, and the sky
+to-night will echo with their chatter as they hurry southward. Elsie, my
+own, I too have called--come; I love you!"
+
+She lifted her face to him full of tender spiritual charm, her eyes
+burning their passionate answer.
+
+He bent and kissed her.
+
+"Say it! Say it!" he whispered.
+
+"I love you!" she sighed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE GAUGE OF BATTLE
+
+
+The day of the first meeting of the National Congress after the war was
+one of intense excitement. The galleries of the House were packed. Elsie
+was there with Ben in a fever of secret anxiety lest the stirring drama
+should cloud her own life. She watched her father limp to his seat with
+every eye fixed on him.
+
+The President had pursued with persistence the plan of Lincoln for the
+immediate restoration of the Union. Would Congress follow the lead of the
+President or challenge him to mortal combat?
+
+Civil governments had been restored in all the Southern States, with men
+of the highest ability chosen as governors and lawmakers. Their
+legislatures had unanimously voted for the Thirteenth Amendment of the
+Constitution abolishing slavery, and elected senators and representatives
+to Congress. Mr. Seward, the Secretary of State, had declared the new
+amendment a part of the organic law of the Nation by the vote of these
+States.
+
+General Grant went to the South to report its condition and boldly
+declared:
+
+"I am satisfied that the mass of thinking people of the South accept the
+situation in good faith. Slavery and secession they regard as settled
+forever by the highest known tribunal, and consider this decision a
+fortunate one for the whole country."
+
+Would the Southerners be allowed to enter?
+
+Amid breathless silence the clerk rose to call the roll of members-elect.
+Every ear was bent to hear the name of the first Southern man. Not one was
+called! The Master had spoken. His clerk knew how to play his part.
+
+The next business of the House was to receive the message of the Chief
+Magistrate of the Nation.
+
+The message came, but not from the White House. It came from the seat of
+the Great Commoner.
+
+As the first thrill of excitement over the challenge to the President
+slowly subsided, Stoneman rose, planted his big club foot in the middle of
+the aisle, and delivered to Congress the word of its new master.
+
+It was Ben's first view of the man of all the world just now of most
+interest. From his position he could see his full face and figure.
+
+He began speaking in a careless, desultory way. His tone was loud yet not
+declamatory, at first in a grumbling, grandfatherly, half-humorous,
+querulous accent that riveted every ear instantly. A sort of drollery of a
+contagious kind haunted it. Here and there a member tittered in
+expectation of a flash of wit.
+
+His figure was taller than the average, slightly bent, with a dignity
+which suggested reserve power and contempt for his audience. One knew
+instinctively that back of the boldest word this man might say there was a
+bolder unspoken word he had chosen not to speak.
+
+His limbs were long, and their movements slow, yet nervous as from some
+internal fiery force. His hands were big and ugly, and always in
+ungraceful fumbling motion as though a separate soul dwelt within them.
+
+The heaped-up curly profusion of his brown wig gave a weird impression to
+the spread of his mobile features. His eagle-beaked nose had three
+distinct lines and angles. His chin was broad and bold, and his brows
+beetling and projecting. His mouth was wide, marked, and grim; when
+opened, deep and cavernous; when closed, it seemed to snap so tightly that
+the lower lip protruded.
+
+Of all his make-up, his eye was the most fascinating, and it held Ben
+spellbound. It could thrill to the deepest fibre of the soul that looked
+into it, yet it did not gleam. It could dominate, awe, and confound, yet
+it seemed to have no colour or fire. He could easily see it across the
+vast hall from the galleries, yet it was not large. Two bold, colourless
+dagger-points of light they seemed. As he grew excited, they darkened as
+if passing under a cloud.
+
+A sudden sweep of his huge apelike arm in an angular gesture, and the
+drollery and carelessness of his voice were riven from it as by a bolt of
+lightning.
+
+He was driving home his message now in brutal frankness. Yet in the height
+of his fiercest invective he never seemed to strengthen himself or call on
+his resources. In its climax he was careless, conscious of power, and
+contemptuous of results, as though as a gambler he had staked and lost all
+and in the moment of losing suddenly become the master of those who had
+beaten him.
+
+His speech never once bent to persuade or convince. He meant to brain the
+opposition with a single blow, and he did it. For he suddenly took the
+breath from his foes by shouting in their faces the hidden motive of which
+they were hoping to accuse him!
+
+"Admit these Southern Representatives," he cried, "and with the Democrats
+elected from the North, within one term they will have a majority in
+Congress and the Electoral College. The supremacy of our party's life is
+at stake. The man who dares palter with such a measure is a rebel, a
+traitor to his party and his people."
+
+A cheer burst from his henchmen, and his foes sat in dazed stupor at his
+audacity. He moved the appointment of a "Committee on Reconstruction" to
+whom the entire government of the "conquered provinces of the South"
+should be committed, and to whom all credentials of their pretended
+representatives should be referred.
+
+He sat down as the Speaker put his motion, declared it carried, and
+quickly announced the names of this Imperial Committee with the Hon.
+Austin Stoneman as its chairman.
+
+He then permitted the message of the President of the United States to be
+read by his clerk.
+
+"Well, upon my soul," said Ben, taking a deep breath and looking at Elsie,
+"he's the whole thing, isn't he?"
+
+The girl smiled with pride.
+
+"Yes; he is a genius. He was born to command and yet never could resist
+the cry of a child or the plea of a woman. He hates, but he hates ideas
+and systems. He makes threats, yet when he meets the man who stands for
+all he hates he falls in love with his enemy."
+
+"Then there's hope for me?"
+
+"Yes, but I must be the judge of the time to speak."
+
+"Well, if he looks at me as he did once to-day, you may have to do the
+speaking also."
+
+"You will like him when you know him. He is one of the greatest men in
+America."
+
+"At least he's the father of the greatest girl in the world, which is far
+more important."
+
+"I wonder if you know how important?" she asked seriously. "He is the
+apple of my eye. His bitter words, his cynicism and sarcasm, are all on
+the surface--masks that hide a great sensitive spirit. You can't know with
+what brooding tenderness I have always loved and worshipped him. I will
+never marry against his wishes."
+
+"I hope he and I will always be good friends," said Ben doubtfully.
+
+"You must," she replied, eagerly pressing his hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A WOMAN LAUGHS
+
+
+Each day the conflict waxed warmer between the President and the
+Commoner.
+
+The first bill sent to the White House to Africanize the "conquered
+provinces" the President vetoed in a message of such logic, dignity, and
+power, the old leader found to his amazement it was impossible to rally
+the two-thirds majority to pass it over his head.
+
+At first, all had gone as planned. Lynch and Howle brought to him a report
+on "Southern Atrocities," secured through the councils of the secret
+oath-bound Union League, which had destroyed the impression of General
+Grant's words and prepared his followers for blind submission to his
+Committee.
+
+Yet the rally of a group of men in defence of the Constitution had given
+the President unexpected strength.
+
+Stoneman saw that he must hold his hand on the throat of the South and
+fight another campaign. Howle and Lynch furnished the publication
+committee of the Union League the matter, and they printed four million
+five hundred thousand pamphlets on "Southern Atrocities."
+
+The Northern States were hostile to negro suffrage, the first step of his
+revolutionary programme, and not a dozen men in Congress had yet dared to
+favour it. Ohio, Michigan, New York, and Kansas had rejected it by
+overwhelming majorities. But he could appeal to their passions and
+prejudices against the "Barbarism" of the South. It would work like magic.
+When he had the South where he wanted it, he would turn and ram negro
+suffrage and negro equality down the throats of the reluctant North.
+
+His energies were now bent to prevent any effective legislation in
+Congress until his strength should be omnipotent.
+
+A cloud disturbed the sky for a moment in the Senate. John Sherman, of
+Ohio, began to loom on the horizon as a constructive statesman, and
+without consulting him was quietly forcing over Sumner's classic oratory a
+Reconstruction Bill restoring the Southern States to the Union on the
+basis of Lincoln's plan, with no provision for interference with the
+suffrage. It had gone to its last reading, and the final vote was
+pending.
+
+The house was in session at 3 a. m., waiting in feverish anxiety the
+outcome of this struggle in the Senate.
+
+Old Stoneman was in his seat, fast asleep from the exhaustion of an
+unbroken session of forty hours. His meals he had sent to his desk from
+the Capitol restaurant. He was seventy-four years old and not in good
+health, yet his energy was tireless, his resources inexhaustible, and his
+audacity matchless.
+
+Sunset Cox, the wag of the House, an opponent but personal friend of the
+old Commoner, passing his seat and seeing the great head sunk on his
+breast in sleep, laughed softly and said:
+
+"Mr. Speaker!"
+
+The presiding officer recognized the young Democrat with a nod of
+answering humour and responded:
+
+"The gentleman from New York."
+
+"I move you, sir," said Cox, "that, in view of the advanced age and
+eminent services of the distinguished gentleman from Pennsylvania, the
+Sergeant-at-Arms be instructed to furnish him with enough poker chips to
+last till morning!"
+
+The scattered members who were awake roared with laughter, the Speaker
+pounded furiously with his gavel, the sleepy little pages jumped up,
+rubbing their eyes, and ran here and there answering imaginary calls, and
+the whole House waked to its usual noise and confusion.
+
+The old man raised his massive head and looked to the door leading toward
+the Senate just as Sumner rushed through. He had slept for a moment, but
+his keen intellect had taken up the fight at precisely the point at which
+he left it.
+
+Sumner approached his desk rapidly, leaned over, and reported his defeat
+and Sherman's triumph.
+
+"For God's sake throttle this measure in the House or we are ruined!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+"Don't be alarmed," replied the cynic. "I'll be here with stronger weapons
+than articulated wind."
+
+"You have not a moment to lose. The bill is on its way to the Speaker's
+desk, and Sherman's men are going to force its passage to-night."
+
+The Senator returned to the other end of the Capitol wrapped in the mantle
+of his outraged dignity, and in thirty minutes the bill was defeated, and
+the House adjourned.
+
+As the old Commoner hobbled through the door, his crooked cane thumping
+the marble floor, Sumner seized and pressed his hand:
+
+"How did you do it?"
+
+Stoneman's huge jaws snapped together and his lower lip protruded:
+
+"I sent for Cox and summoned the leader of the Democrats. I told them if
+they would join with me and defeat this bill, I'd give them a better one
+the next session. And I will--negro suffrage! The gudgeons swallowed it
+whole!"
+
+Sumner lifted his eyebrows and wrapped his cloak a little closer.
+
+The Great Commoner laughed as he departed:
+
+"He is yet too good for this world, but he'll forget it before we're done
+this fight."
+
+On the steps a beggar asked him for a night's lodging, and he tossed him a
+gold eagle.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+The North, which had rejected negro suffrage for itself with scorn,
+answered Stoneman's fierce appeal to their passions against the South, and
+sent him a delegation of radicals eager to do his will.
+
+So fierce had waxed the combat between the President and Congress that the
+very existence of Stanton's prisoners languishing in jail was forgotten,
+and the Secretary of War himself became a football to be kicked back and
+forth in this conflict of giants. The fact that Andrew Johnson was from
+Tennessee, and had been an old-line Democrat before his election as a
+Unionist with Lincoln, was now a fatal weakness in his position. Under
+Stoneman's assaults he became at once an executive without a party, and
+every word of amnesty and pardon he proclaimed for the South in accordance
+with Lincoln's plan was denounced as the act of a renegade courting favour
+of traitors and rebels.
+
+Stanton remained in his cabinet against his wishes to insult and defy him,
+and Stoneman, quick to see the way by which the President of the Nation
+could be degraded and made ridiculous, introduced a bill depriving him of
+the power to remove his own cabinet officers. The act was not only meant
+to degrade the President; it was a trap set for his ruin. The penalties
+were so fixed that its violation would give specific ground for his trial,
+impeachment, and removal from office.
+
+Again Stoneman passed his first act to reduce the "conquered provinces" of
+the South to negro rule.
+
+President Johnson vetoed it with a message of such logic in defence of the
+constitutional rights of the States that it failed by one vote to find the
+two-thirds majority needed to become a law without his approval.
+
+The old Commoner's eyes froze into two dagger-points of icy light when
+this vote was announced.
+
+With fury he cursed the President, but above all he cursed the men of his
+own party who had faltered.
+
+As he fumbled his big hands nervously, he growled:
+
+"If I only had five men of genuine courage in Congress, I'd hang the man
+at the other end of the avenue from the porch of the White House! But I
+haven't got them--cowards, dastards, dolts, and snivelling fools----"
+
+His decision was instantly made. He would expel enough Democrats from the
+Senate and the House to place his two-thirds majority beyond question. The
+name of the President never passed his lips. He referred to him always,
+even in public debate, as "the man at the other end of the avenue," or
+"the former Governor of Tennessee who once threatened rebels--the late
+lamented Andrew Johnson, of blessed memory."
+
+He ordered the expulsion of the new member of the House from Indiana,
+Daniel W. Voorhees, and the new Senator from New Jersey, John P. Stockton.
+This would give him a majority of two thirds composed of men who would
+obey his word without a question.
+
+Voorhees heard of the edict with indignant wrath. He had met Stoneman in
+the lobbies, where he was often the centre of admiring groups of friends.
+His wit and audacity, and, above all, his brutal frankness, had won the
+admiration of the "Tall Sycamore of the Wabash." He could not believe such
+a man would be a party to a palpable fraud. He appealed to him
+personally:
+
+"Look here, Stoneman," the young orator cried with wrath, "I appeal to
+your sense of honour and decency. My credentials have been accepted by
+your own committee, and my seat been awarded me. My majority is
+unquestioned. This is a high-handed outrage. You cannot permit this
+crime."
+
+The old man thrust his deformed foot out before him, struck it
+meditatively with his cane, and looking Voorhees straight in the eye,
+boldly said:
+
+"There's nothing the matter with your majority, young man. I've no doubt
+it's all right. Unfortunately, you are a Democrat, and happen to be the
+odd man in the way of the two-thirds majority on which the supremacy of my
+party depends. You will have to go. Come back some other time." And he
+did.
+
+In the Senate there was a hitch. When the vote was taken on the expulsion
+of Stockton, to the amazement of the leader it was a tie.
+
+He hobbled into the Senate Chamber, with the steel point of his cane
+ringing on the marble flags as though he were thrusting it through the
+vitals of the weakling who had sneaked and hedged and trimmed at the
+crucial moment.
+
+He met Howle at the door.
+
+"What's the matter in there?" he asked.
+
+"They're trying to compromise."
+
+"Compromise--the Devil of American politics," he muttered. "But how did
+the vote fail--it was all fixed before the roll-call?"
+
+"Roman, of Maine, has trouble with his conscience! He is paired not to
+vote on this question with Stockton's colleague, who is sick in Trenton.
+His 'honour' is involved, and he refuses to break his word."
+
+"I see," said Stoneman, pulling his bristling brows down until his eyes
+were two beads of white gleaming through them. "Tell Wade to summon every
+member of the party in his room immediately and hold the Senate in
+session."
+
+When the group of Senators crowded into the Vice-president's room the old
+man faced them leaning on his cane and delivered an address of five
+minutes they never forgot.
+
+His speech had a nameless fascination. The man himself with his elemental
+passions was a wonder. He left on public record no speech worth reading,
+and yet these powerful men shrank under his glance. As the nostrils of his
+big three-angled nose dilated, the scream of an eagle rang in his voice,
+his huge ugly hand held the crook of his cane with the clutch of a tiger,
+his tongue flew with the hiss of an adder, and his big deformed foot
+seemed to grip the floor as the claw of a beast.
+
+"The life of a political party, gentlemen," he growled in conclusion, "is
+maintained by a scheme of subterfuges in which the moral law cuts no
+figure. As your leader, I know but one law--success. The world is full of
+fools who must have toys with which to play. A belief in politics is the
+favourite delusion of shallow American minds. But you and I have no
+delusions. Your life depends on this vote. If any man thinks the
+abstraction called 'honour' is involved, let him choose between his honour
+and his life! I call no names. This issue must be settled now before the
+Senate adjourns. There can be no to-morrow. It is life or death. Let the
+roll be called again immediately."
+
+The grave Senators resumed their seats, and Wade, the acting
+Vice-president, again put the question to Stockton's expulsion.
+
+The member from New England sat pale and trembling, in his soul the
+anguish of the mortal combat between his Puritan conscience, the iron
+heritage of centuries, and the order of his captain.
+
+When the Clerk of the Senate called his name, still the battle raged. He
+sat in silence, the whiteness of death about his lips, while the clerk at
+a signal from the Chair paused.
+
+And then a scene the like of which was never known in American history!
+August Senators crowded around his desk, begging, shouting, imploring, and
+demanding that a fellow Senator break his solemn word of honour!
+
+For a moment pandemonium reigned.
+
+"Vote! Vote! Call his name again!" they shouted.
+
+High above all rang the voice of Charles Sumner, leading the wild chorus,
+crying:
+
+"Vote! Vote! Vote!"
+
+The galleries hissed and cheered--the cheers at last drowning every hiss.
+
+Stoneman pushed his way among the mob which surrounded the badgered
+Puritan as he attempted to retreat into the cloakroom.
+
+"Will you vote?" he hissed, his eyes flashing poison.
+
+"My conscience will not permit it," he faltered.
+
+"To hell with your conscience!" the old leader thundered. "Go back to your
+seat, ask the clerk to call your name, and vote, or by the living God I'll
+read you out of the party to-night and brand you a snivelling coward, a
+copperhead, a renegade, and traitor!"
+
+Trembling from head to foot, he staggered back to his seat, the cold sweat
+standing in beads on his forehead, and gasped:
+
+"Call my name!"
+
+The shrill voice of the clerk rang out in the stillness like the peal of a
+trumpet:
+
+"Mr. Roman!"
+
+And the deed was done.
+
+A cheer burst from his colleagues, and the roll-call proceeded.
+
+When Stockton's name was reached he sprang to his feet, voted for himself,
+and made a second tie!
+
+With blank faces they turned to the leader, who ordered Charles Sumner to
+move that the Senator from New Jersey be not allowed to answer his name on
+an issue involving his own seat.
+
+It was carried. Again the roll was called, and Stockton expelled by a
+majority of one.
+
+In the moment of ominous silence which followed, a yellow woman of sleek
+animal beauty leaned far over the gallery rail and laughed aloud.
+
+The passage of each act of the Revolutionary programme over the veto of
+the President was now but a matter of form. The act to degrade his office
+by forcing him to keep a cabinet officer who daily insulted him, the Civil
+Rights Bill, and the Freedman's Bureau Bill followed in rapid succession.
+
+Stoneman's crowning Reconstruction Act was passed, two years after the war
+had closed, shattering the Union again into fragments, blotting the names
+of ten great Southern States from its roll, and dividing their territory
+into five Military Districts under the control of belted satraps.
+
+When this measure was vetoed by the President, it came accompanied by a
+message whose words will be forever etched in fire on the darkest page of
+the Nation's life.
+
+Amid hisses, curses, jeers, and cat-calls, the Clerk of the House read its
+burning words:
+
+"_The power thus given to the commanding officer over the people of each
+district is that of an absolute monarch. His mere will is to take the
+place of law. He may make a criminal code of his own; he can make it as
+bloody as any recorded in history, or he can reserve the privilege of
+acting on the impulse of his private passions in each case that arises._
+
+"_Here is a bill of attainer against nine millions of people at once. It
+is based upon an accusation so vague as to be scarcely intelligible, and
+found to be true upon no credible evidence. Not one of the nine millions
+was heard in his own defence. The representatives even of the doomed
+parties were excluded from all participation in the trial. The conviction
+is to be followed by the most ignominious punishment ever inflicted on
+large masses of men. It disfranchises them by hundreds of thousands and
+degrades them all--even those who are admitted to be guiltless--from the
+rank of freemen to the condition of slaves._
+
+"_Such power has not been wielded by any monarch in England for more than
+five hundred years, and in all that time no people who speak the English
+tongue have borne such servitude._"
+
+When the last jeering cat-call which greeted this message of the Chief
+Magistrate had died away on the floor and in the galleries, old Stoneman
+rose, with a smile playing about his grim mouth, and introduced his bill
+to impeach the President of the United States and remove him from office.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+A DREAM
+
+
+Elsie spent weeks of happiness in an abandonment of joy to the spell of
+her lover. His charm was resistless. His gift of delicate intimacy, the
+eloquence with which he expressed his love, and yet the manly dignity with
+which he did it, threw a spell no woman could resist.
+
+Each day's working hours were given to his father's case and to the study
+of law. If there was work to do, he did it, and then struck the word care
+from his life, giving himself body and soul to his love. Great events were
+moving. The shock of the battle between Congress and the President began
+to shake the Republic to its foundations. He heard nothing, felt nothing,
+save the music of Elsie's voice.
+
+And she knew it. She had only played with lovers before. She had never
+seen one of Ben's kind, and he took her by storm. His creed was simple.
+The chief end of life is to glorify the girl you love. Other things could
+wait. And he let them wait. He ignored their existence.
+
+But one cloud cast its shadow over the girl's heart during these
+red-letter days of life--the fear of what her father would do to her
+lover's people. Ben had asked her whether he must speak to him. When she
+said "No, not yet," he forgot that such a man lived. As for his politics,
+he knew nothing and cared less.
+
+But the girl knew and thought with sickening dread, until she forgot her
+fears in the joy of his laughter. Ben laughed so heartily, so
+insinuatingly, the contagion of his fun could not be resisted.
+
+He would sit for hours and confess to her the secrets of his boyish dreams
+of glory in war, recount his thrilling adventures and daring deeds with
+such enthusiasm that his cause seemed her own, and the pity and the
+anguish of the ruin of his people hurt her with the keen sense of personal
+pain. His love for his native State was so genuine, his pride in the
+bravery and goodness of its people so chivalrous, she began to see for the
+first time how the cords which bound the Southerner to his soil were of
+the heart's red blood.
+
+She began to understand why the war, which had seemed to her a wicked,
+cruel, and causeless rebellion, was the one inevitable thing in our growth
+from a loose group of sovereign States to a United Nation. Love had given
+her his point of view.
+
+Secret grief over her father's course began to grow into conscious fear.
+With unerring instinct she felt the fatal day drawing nearer when these
+two men, now of her inmost life, must clash in mortal enmity.
+
+She saw little of her father. He was absorbed with fevered activity and
+deadly hate in his struggle with the President.
+
+Brooding over her fears one night, she had tried to interest Ben in
+politics. To her surprise she found that he knew nothing of her father's
+real position or power as leader of his party. The stunning tragedy of the
+war had for the time crushed out of his consciousness all political ideas,
+as it had for most young Southerners. He took her hand while a dreamy look
+overspread his swarthy face:
+
+"Don't cross a bridge till you come to it. I learned that in the war.
+Politics are a mess. Let me tell you something that counts----"
+
+He felt her hand's soft pressure and reverently kissed it. "Listen," he
+whispered. "I was dreaming last night after I left you of the home we'll
+build. Just back of our place, on the hill overlooking the river, my
+father and mother planted trees in exact duplicate of the ones they placed
+around our house when they were married. They set these trees in honour of
+the first-born of their love, that he should make his nest there when
+grown. But it was not for him. He had pitched his tent on higher ground,
+and the others with him. This place will be mine. There are forty
+varieties of trees, all grown--elm, maple, oak, holly, pine, cedar,
+magnolia, and every fruit and flowering stem that grows in our friendly
+soil. A little house, built near the vacant space reserved for the
+homestead, is nicely kept by a farmer, and birds have learned to build in
+every shrub and tree. All the year their music rings its chorus--one long
+overture awaiting the coming of my bride----"
+
+Elsie sighed.
+
+"Listen, dear," he went on eagerly. "Last night I dreamed the South had
+risen from her ruins. I saw you there. I saw our home standing amid a
+bower of roses your hands had planted. The full moon wrapped it in soft
+light, while you and I walked hand in hand in silence beneath our trees.
+But fairer and brighter than the moon was the face of her I loved, and
+sweeter than all the songs of birds the music of her voice!"
+
+A tear dimmed the girl's warm eyes, and a deeper flush mantled her cheeks,
+as she lifted her face and whispered:
+
+"Kiss me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE KING AMUSES HIMSELF
+
+
+With savage energy the Great Commoner pressed to trial the first
+impeachment of a President of the United States for high crimes and
+misdemeanours.
+
+His bill to confiscate the property of the Southern people was already
+pending on the calendar of the House. This bill was the most remarkable
+ever written in the English language or introduced into a legislative body
+of the Aryan race. It provided for the confiscation of ninety per cent. of
+the land of ten great States of the American Union. To each negro in the
+South was allotted forty acres from the estate of his former master, and
+the remaining millions of acres were to be divided among the "loyal who
+had suffered by reason of the Rebellion."
+
+The execution of this, the most stupendous crime ever conceived by an
+English lawmaker, involving the exile and ruin of millions of innocent
+men, women, and children, could not be intrusted to Andrew Johnson.
+
+No such measure could be enforced so long as any man was President and
+Commander-in-chief of the Army and Navy who claimed his title under the
+Constitution. Hence the absolute necessity of his removal.
+
+The conditions of society were ripe for this daring enterprise.
+
+Not only was the Ship of State in the hands of revolutionists who had
+boarded her in the storm stress of a civic convulsion, but among them
+swarmed the pirate captains of the boldest criminals who ever figured in
+the story of a nation.
+
+The first great Railroad Lobby, with continental empires at stake,
+thronged the Capitol with its lawyers, agents, barkers, and hired
+courtesans.
+
+The Cotton Thieves, who operated through a ring of Treasury agents, had
+confiscated unlawfully three million bales of cotton hidden in the South
+during the war and at its close, the last resource of a ruined people. The
+Treasury had received a paltry twenty thousand bales for the use of its
+name with which to seize alleged "property of the Confederate Government."
+The value of this cotton, stolen from the widows and orphans, the maimed
+and crippled, of the South was over $700,000,000 in gold--a capital
+sufficient to have started an impoverished people again on the road to
+prosperity. The agents of this ring surrounded the halls of legislation,
+guarding their booty from envious eyes, and demanding the enactment of
+vaster schemes of legal confiscation.
+
+The Whiskey Ring had just been formed, and began its system of gigantic
+frauds by which it scuttled the Treasury.
+
+Above them all towered the figure of Oakes Ames, whose master mind had
+organized the _Credit Mobilier_ steal. This vast infamy had already eaten
+its way into the heart of Congress and dug the graves of many illustrious
+men.
+
+So open had become the shame that Stoneman was compelled to increase his
+committees in the morning, when a corrupt majority had been bought the
+night before.
+
+He arose one day, and looking at the distinguished Speaker, who was
+himself the secret associate of Oakes Ames, said:
+
+"Mr. Speaker: while the House slept, the enemy has sown tares among our
+wheat. The corporations of this country, having neither bodies to be
+kicked nor souls to be lost, have, _perhaps_ by the power of argument
+alone, beguiled from the majority of my Committee the member from
+Connecticut. The enemy have now a majority of one. I move to increase the
+Committee to twelve."
+
+Speaker Colfax, soon to be hurled from the Vice-president's chair for his
+part with those thieves, increased his Committee.
+
+Everybody knew that "the power of argument alone" meant ten thousand
+dollars cash for the gentleman from Connecticut, who did not appear on the
+floor for a week, fearing the scorpion tongue of the old Commoner.
+
+A Congress which found it could make and unmake laws in defiance of the
+Executive went mad. Taxation soared to undreamed heights, while the
+currency was depreciated and subject to the wildest fluctuations.
+
+The statute books were loaded with laws that shackled chains of monopoly
+on generations yet unborn. Public lands wide as the reach of empires were
+voted as gifts to private corporations, and subsidies of untold millions
+fixed as a charge upon the people and their children's children.
+
+The demoralization incident to a great war, the waste of unheard-of sums
+of money, the giving of contracts involving millions by which fortunes
+were made in a night, the riot of speculation and debauchery by those who
+tried to get rich suddenly without labour, had created a new Capital of
+the Nation. The vulture army of the base, venal, unpatriotic, and corrupt,
+which had swept down, a black cloud, in wartime to take advantage of the
+misfortunes of the Nation, had settled in Washington and gave new tone to
+its life.
+
+Prior to the Civil War the Capital was ruled, and the standards of its
+social and political life fixed, by an aristocracy founded on brains,
+culture, and blood. Power was with few exceptions intrusted to an
+honourable body of high-spirited public officials. Now a negro electorate
+controlled the city government, and gangs of drunken negroes, its
+sovereign citizens, paraded the streets at night firing their muskets
+unchallenged and unmolested.
+
+A new mob of onion-laden breath, mixed with perspiring African odour,
+became the symbol of American Democracy.
+
+A new order of society sprouted in this corruption. The old high-bred
+ways, tastes, and enthusiasms were driven into the hiding-places of a few
+families and cherished as relics of the past.
+
+Washington, choked with scrofulous wealth, bowed the knee to the Almighty
+Dollar. The new altar was covered with a black mould of human blood--but
+no questions were asked.
+
+A mulatto woman kept the house of the foremost man of the Nation and
+received his guests with condescension.
+
+In this atmosphere of festering vice and gangrene passions, the struggle
+between the Great Commoner and the President on which hung the fate of the
+South approached its climax.
+
+The whole Nation was swept into the whirlpool, and business was paralyzed.
+Two years after the close of a victorious war the credit of the Republic
+dropped until its six per cent. bonds sold in the open market for
+seventy-three cents on the dollar.
+
+The revolutionary junta in control of the Capital was within a single step
+of the subversion of the Government and the establishment of a Dictator in
+the White House.
+
+A convention was called in Philadelphia to restore fraternal feeling, heal
+the wounds of war, preserve the Constitution, and restore the Union of the
+fathers. It was a grand assemblage representing the heart and brain of the
+Nation. Members of Lincoln's first Cabinet, protesting Senators and
+Congressmen, editors of great Republican and Democratic newspapers, heroes
+of both armies, long estranged, met for a common purpose. When a group of
+famous negro worshippers from Boston suddenly entered the hall, arm in arm
+with ex-slaveholders from South Carolina, the great meeting rose and walls
+and roof rang with thunder peals of applause.
+
+Their committee, headed by a famous editor, journeyed to Washington to
+appeal to the Master at the Capitol. They sought him not in the White
+House, but in the little Black House in an obscure street on the hill.
+
+The brown woman received them with haughty dignity, and said:
+
+"Mr. Stoneman cannot be seen at this hour. It is after nine o'clock. I
+will submit to him your request for an audience to-morrow morning."
+
+"We must see him to-night," replied the editor, with rising anger.
+
+"The king is amusing himself," said the yellow woman, with a touch of
+malice.
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+Her catlike eyes rolled from side to side, and a smile played about her
+full lips as she said:
+
+"You will find him at Hall & Pemberton's gambling hell--you've lived in
+Washington. You know the way."
+
+With a muttered oath the editor turned on his heel and led his two
+companions to the old Commoner's favourite haunt. There could be no better
+time or place to approach him than seated at one of its tables laden with
+rare wines and savoury dishes.
+
+On reaching the well-known number of Hall & Pemberton's place, the editor
+entered the unlocked door, passed with his friends along the soft-carpeted
+hall, and ascended the stairs. Here the door was locked. A sudden pull of
+the bell, and a pair of bright eyes peeped through a small grating in the
+centre of the door revealed by the sliding of its panel.
+
+The keen eyes glanced at the proffered card, the door flew open, and a
+well-dressed mulatto invited them with cordial welcome to enter.
+
+Passing along another hall, they were ushered into a palatial suite of
+rooms furnished in princely state. The floors were covered with the
+richest and softest carpets--so soft and yielding that the tramp of a
+thousand feet could not make the faintest echo. The walls and ceilings
+were frescoed by the brush of a great master, and hung with works of art
+worth a king's ransom. Heavy curtains, in colours of exquisite taste,
+masked each window, excluding all sound from within or without.
+
+The rooms blazed with light from gorgeous chandeliers of trembling
+crystals, shimmering and flashing from the ceilings like bouquets of
+diamonds.
+
+Negro servants, faultlessly dressed, attended the slightest want of every
+guest with the quiet grace and courtesy of the lost splendours of the old
+South.
+
+The proprietor, with courtly manners, extended his hand:
+
+"Welcome, gentlemen; you are my guests. The tables and the wines are at
+your service without price. Eat, drink, and be merry--play or not, as you
+please."
+
+A smile lighted his dark eyes, but faded out near his mouth--cold and
+rigid.
+
+At the farther end of the last room hung the huge painting of a leopard,
+so vivid and real its black and tawny colours, so furtive and wild its
+restless eyes, it seemed alive and moving behind invisible bars.
+
+Just under it, gorgeously set in its jewel-studded frame, stood the magic
+green table on which men staked their gold and lost their souls.
+
+The rooms were crowded with Congressmen, Government officials, officers of
+the Army and Navy, clerks, contractors, paymasters, lobbyists, and
+professional gamblers.
+
+The centre of an admiring group was a Congressman who had during the last
+session of the House broken the "bank" in a single night, winning more
+than a hundred thousand dollars. He had lost it all and more in two weeks,
+and the courteous proprietor now held orders for the lion's share of the
+total pay and mileage of nearly every member of the House of
+Representatives.
+
+Over that table thousands of dollars of the people's money had been staked
+and lost during the war by quartermasters, paymasters, and agents in
+charge of public funds. Many a man had approached that green table with a
+stainless name and left it a perjured thief. Some had been carried out by
+those handsomely dressed waiters, and the man with the cold mouth could
+point out, if he would, more than one stain on the soft carpet which
+marked the end of a tragedy deeper than the pen of romancer has ever
+sounded.
+
+Stoneman at the moment was playing. He was rarely a heavy player, but he
+had just staked a twenty-dollar gold piece and won fourteen hundred
+dollars.
+
+Howle, always at his elbow ready for a "sleeper" or a stake, said:
+
+"Put a stack on the ace."
+
+He did so, lost, and repeated it twice.
+
+"Do it again," urged Howle. "I'll stake my reputation that the ace wins
+this time."
+
+With a doubting glance at Howle, old Stoneman shoved a stack of blue
+chips, worth fifty dollars, over the ace, playing it to win on Howle's
+judgment and reputation. It lost.
+
+Without the ghost of a smile, the old statesman said: "Howle, you owe me
+five cents."
+
+As he turned abruptly on his club foot from the table, he encountered the
+editor and his friends, a Western manufacturer and a Wall Street banker.
+They were soon seated at a table in a private room, over a dinner of
+choice oysters, diamond-back terrapin, canvas-back duck, and champagne.
+
+They presented their plea for a truce in his fight until popular passion
+had subsided.
+
+He heard them in silence. His answer was characteristic:
+
+"The will of the people, gentlemen, is supreme," he said with a sneer. "We
+are the people. 'The man at the other end of the avenue' has dared to defy
+the will of Congress. He must go. If the Supreme Court lifts a finger in
+this fight, it will reduce that tribunal to one man or increase it to
+twenty at our pleasure."
+
+"But the Constitution----" broke in the chairman.
+
+"There are higher laws than paper compacts. We are conquerors treading
+conquered soil. Our will alone is the source of law. The drunken boor who
+claims to be President is in reality an alien of a conquered province."
+
+"We protest," exclaimed the man of money, "against the use of such
+epithets in referring to the Chief Magistrate of the Republic!"
+
+"And why, pray?" sneered the Commoner.
+
+"In the name of common decency, law, and order. The President is a man of
+inherent power, even if he did learn to read after his marriage. Like many
+other Americans, he is a self-made man----"
+
+"Glad to hear it," snapped Stoneman. "It relieves Almighty God of a
+fearful responsibility."
+
+They left him in disgust and dismay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+TOSSED BY THE STORM
+
+
+As the storm of passion raised by the clash between her father and the
+President rose steadily to the sweep of a cyclone, Elsie felt her own life
+but a leaf driven before its fury.
+
+Her only comfort she found in Phil, whose letters to her were full of love
+for Margaret. He asked Elsie a thousand foolish questions about what she
+thought of his chances.
+
+To her own confessions he was all sympathy.
+
+"Of father's wild scheme of vengeance against the South," he wrote, "I am
+heartsick. I hate it on principle, to say nothing of a girl I know. I am
+with General Grant for peace and reconciliation. What does your lover
+think of it all? I can feel your anguish. The bill to rob the Southern
+people of their land, which I hear is pending, would send your sweetheart
+and mine, our enemies, into beggared exile. What will happen in the South?
+Riot and bloodshed, of course--perhaps a guerilla war of such fierce and
+terrible cruelty humanity sickens at the thought. I fear the Rebellion
+unhinged our father's reason on some things. He was too old to go to the
+front; the cannon's breath would have cleared the air and sweetened his
+temper. But its healing was denied. I believe the tawny leopardess who
+keeps his house influences him in this cruel madness. I could wring her
+neck with exquisite pleasure. Why he allows her to stay and cloud his life
+with her she-devil temper and fog his name with vulgar gossip is beyond
+me."
+
+Seated in the park on the Capitol hill the day after her father had
+introduced his Confiscation Bill in the House, pending the impeachment of
+the President, she again attempted to draw Ben out as to his feelings on
+politics.
+
+She waited in sickening fear and bristling pride for the first burst of
+his anger which would mean their separation.
+
+"How do I feel?" he asked. "Don't feel at all. The surrender of General
+Lee was an event so stunning, my mind has not yet staggered past it.
+Nothing much can happen after that, so it don't matter."
+
+"Negro suffrage don't matter?"
+
+"No. We can manage the negro," he said calmly.
+
+"With thousands of your own people disfranchised?"
+
+"The negroes will vote with us, as they worked for us during the war. If
+they give them the ballot, they'll wish they hadn't."
+
+Ben looked at her tenderly, bent near, and whispered:
+
+"Don't waste your sweet breath talking about such things. My politics is
+bounded on the North by a pair of amber eyes, on the South by a dimpled
+little chin, on the East and West by a rosy cheek. Words do not frame its
+speech. Its language is a mere sign, a pressure of the lips--yet it
+thrills body and soul beyond all words."
+
+Elsie leaned closer, and looking at the Capitol, said wistfully:
+
+"I don't believe you know anything that goes on in that big marble
+building."
+
+"Yes, I do."
+
+"What happened there yesterday?"
+
+"You honoured it by putting your beautiful feet on its steps. I saw the
+whole huge pile of cold marble suddenly glow with warm sunlight and flash
+with beauty as you entered it."
+
+The girl nestled still closer to his side, feeling her utter helplessness
+in the rapids of the Niagara through which they were being whirled by
+blind and merciless forces. For the moment she forgot all fears in his
+nearness and the sweet pressure of his hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE SUPREME TEST
+
+
+It is the glory of the American Republic that every man who has filled the
+office of President has grown in stature when clothed with its power and
+has proved himself worthy of its solemn trust. It is our highest claim to
+the respect of the world and the vindication of man's capacity to govern
+himself.
+
+The impeachment of President Andrew Johnson would mark either the lowest
+tide-mud of degradation to which the Republic could sink, or its end. In
+this trial our system would be put to its severest strain. If a partisan
+majority in Congress could remove the Executive and defy the Supreme
+Court, stability to civic institutions was at an end, and the breath of a
+mob would become the sole standard of law.
+
+Congress had thrown to the winds the last shreds of decency in its
+treatment of the Chief Magistrate. Stoneman led this campaign of insult,
+not merely from feelings of personal hate, but because he saw that thus
+the President's conviction before the Senate would become all but
+inevitable.
+
+When his messages arrived from the White House they were thrown into the
+waste-basket without being read, amid jeers, hisses, curses, and ribald
+laughter.
+
+In lieu of their reading, Stoneman would send to the Clerk's desk an
+obscene tirade from a party newspaper, and the Clerk of the House would
+read it amid the mocking groans, laughter, and applause of the floor and
+galleries.
+
+A favourite clipping described the President as "an insolent drunken
+brute, in comparison with whom Caligula's horse was respectable."
+
+In the Senate, whose members were to sit as sworn judges to decide the
+question of impeachment, Charles Sumner used language so vulgar that he
+was called to order. Sustained by the Chair and the Senate, he repeated it
+with increased violence, concluding with cold venom:
+
+"Andrew Johnson has become the successor of Jefferson Davis. In holding
+him up to judgment I do not dwell on his beastly intoxication the day he
+took the oath as Vice-president, nor do I dwell on his maudlin speeches by
+which he has degraded the country, nor hearken to the reports of pardons
+sold, or of personal corruption. These things are bad. But he has usurped
+the powers of Congress."
+
+Conover, the perjured wretch, in prison for his crimes as a professional
+witness in the assassination trial, now circulated the rumour that he
+could give evidence that President Johnson was the assassin of Lincoln.
+Without a moment's hesitation, Stoneman's henchmen sent a petition to the
+President for the pardon of this villain that he might turn against the
+man who had pardoned him and swear his life away! This scoundrel was borne
+in triumph from prison to the Capitol and placed before the Impeachment
+Committee, to whom he poured out his wondrous tale.
+
+The sewers and prisons were dragged for every scrap of testimony to be
+found, and the day for the trial approached.
+
+As it drew nearer, excitement grew intense. Swarms of adventurers
+expecting the overthrow of the Government crowded into Washington. Dreams
+of honours, profits, and division of spoils held riot. Gamblers thronged
+the saloons and gaming-houses, betting their gold on the President's
+head.
+
+Stoneman found the business more serious than even his daring spirit had
+dreamed. His health suddenly gave way under the strain, and he was put to
+bed by his physician with the warning that the least excitement would be
+instantly fatal.
+
+Elsie entered the little Black House on the hill for the first time since
+her trip at the age of twelve, some eight years before. She installed an
+army nurse, took charge of the place, and ignored the existence of the
+brown woman, refusing to speak to her or permit her to enter her father's
+room.
+
+His illness made it necessary to choose an assistant to conduct the case
+before the High Court. There was but one member of the House whose
+character and ability fitted him for the place--General Benj. F. Butler,
+of Massachusetts, whose name was enough to start a riot in any assembly in
+America.
+
+His selection precipitated a storm at the Capitol. A member leaped to his
+feet on the floor of the House and shouted:
+
+"If I were to characterize all that is pusillanimous in war, inhuman in
+peace, forbidden in morals, and corrupt in politics, I could name it in
+one word--Butlerism!"
+
+For this speech he was ordered to apologize, and when he refused with
+scorn they voted that the Speaker publicly censure him. The Speaker did
+so, but winked at the offender while uttering the censure.
+
+John A. Bingham, of Ohio, who had been chosen for his powers of oratory to
+make the principal speech against the President, rose in the House and
+indignantly refused to serve on the Board of Impeachment with such a man.
+
+General Butler replied with crushing insolence:
+
+"It is true, Mr. Speaker, that I may have made an error of judgment in
+trying to blow up Fort Fisher with a powder ship at sea. I did the best I
+could with the talents God gave me. An angel could have done no more. At
+least I bared my own breast in my country's defence--a thing the
+distinguished gentleman who insults me has not ventured to do--his only
+claim to greatness being that, behind prison walls, on perjured testimony,
+his fervid eloquence sent an innocent American mother screaming to the
+gallows."
+
+The fight was ended only by an order from the old Commoner's bed to
+Bingham to shut his mouth and work with Butler. When the President had
+been crushed, then they could settle Kilkenny-cat issues. Bingham obeyed.
+
+When the august tribunal assembled in the Senate Chamber, fifty-five
+Senators, presided over by Salmon P. Chase, Chief Justice of the Supreme
+Court, constituted the tribunal. They took their seats in a semicircle in
+front of the Vice-president's desk at which the Chief Justice sat. Behind
+them crowded the one hundred and ninety members of the House of
+Representatives, the accusers of the ruler of the mightiest Republic in
+human history. Every inch of space in the galleries was crowded with
+brilliantly dressed men and women, army officers in gorgeous uniforms, and
+the pomp and splendour of the ministers of every foreign court of the
+world. In spectacular grandeur no such scene was ever before witnessed in
+the annals of justice.
+
+The peculiar personal appearance of General Butler, whose bald head shone
+with insolence while his eye seemed to be winking over his record as a
+warrior and making fun of his fellow-manager Bingham, added a touch of
+humour to the solemn scene.
+
+The magnificent head of the Chief Justice suggested strange thoughts to
+the beholder. He had been summoned but the day before to try Jefferson
+Davis for the treason of declaring the Southern States out of the Union.
+To-day he sat down to try the President of the United States for declaring
+them to be in the Union! He had protested with warmth that he could not
+conduct both these trials at once.
+
+The Chief Justice took oath to "do impartial justice according to the
+Constitution and the laws," and to the chagrin of Sumner administered this
+oath to each Senator in turn. When Benjamin F. Wade's name was called,
+Hendricks, of Indiana, objected to his sitting as judge. He could succeed
+temporarily to the Presidency, as the presiding officer of the Senate, and
+his own vote might decide the fate of the accused and determine his own
+succession. The law forbids the Vice-president to sit on such trials. It
+should apply with more vigour in his case. Besides, he had without a
+hearing already pronounced the President guilty.
+
+Sumner, forgetting his motion to prevent Stockton's voting against his own
+expulsion, flew to the defence of Wade. Hendricks smilingly withdrew his
+objection, and "Bluff Ben Wade" took the oath and sat down to judge his
+own cause with unruffled front.
+
+When the case was complete, the whole bill of indictment stood forth a
+tissue of stupid malignity without a shred of evidence to support its
+charges.
+
+On the last day of the trial, when the closing speeches were being made,
+there was a stir at the door. The throng of men, packing every inch of
+floor space, were pushed rudely aside. The crowd craned their necks,
+Senators turned and looked behind them to see what the disturbance meant,
+and the Chief Justice rapped for order.
+
+Suddenly through the dense mass appeared the forms of two gigantic negroes
+carrying an old man. His grim face, white and rigid, and his big club foot
+hanging pathetically from those black arms, could not be mistaken. A
+thrill of excitement swept the floor and galleries, and a faint cheer
+rippled the surface, quickly suppressed by the gavel.
+
+The negroes placed him in an armchair facing the semicircle of Senators,
+and crouched down on their haunches beside him. Their kinky heads, black
+skin, thick lips, white teeth, and flat noses made for the moment a
+curious symbolic frame for the chalk-white passion of the old Commoner's
+face.
+
+No sculptor ever dreamed a more sinister emblem of the corruption of a
+race of empire builders than this group. Its black figures, wrapped in the
+night of four thousand years of barbarism, squatted there the "equal" of
+their master, grinning at his forms of justice, the evolution of forty
+centuries of Aryan genius. To their brute strength the white fanatic in
+the madness of his hate had appealed, and for their hire he had bartered
+the birthright of a mighty race of freemen.
+
+The speaker hurried to his conclusion that the half-fainting master might
+deliver his message. In the meanwhile his eyes, cold and thrilling, sought
+the secrets of the souls of the judges before him.
+
+He had not come to plead or persuade. He had eluded the vigilance of his
+daughter and nurse, escaped with the aid of the brown woman and her black
+allies, and at the peril of his life had come to command. Every energy of
+his indomitable will he was using now to keep from fainting. He felt that
+if he could but look those men in the face they would not dare to defy his
+word.
+
+He shambled painfully to his feet amid a silence that was awful. Again the
+sheer wonder of the man's personality held the imagination of the
+audience. His audacity, his fanaticism, and the strange contradictions of
+his character stirred the mind of friend and foe alike--this man who
+tottered there before them, holding off Death with his big ugly left hand,
+while with his right he clutched at the throat of his foe! Honest and
+dishonest, cruel and tender, great and mean, a party leader who scorned
+public opinion, a man of conviction, yet the most unscrupulous politician,
+a philosopher who preached the equality of man, yet a tyrant who hated the
+world and despised all men!
+
+His very presence before them an open defiance of love and life and death,
+would not his word ring omnipotent when the verdict was rendered? Every
+man in the great courtroom believed it as he looked on the rows of
+Senators hanging on his lips.
+
+He spoke at first with unnatural vigour, a faint flush of fever lighting
+his white face, his voice quivering yet penetrating.
+
+"Upon that man among you who shall dare to acquit the President," he
+boldly threatened, "I hurl the everlasting curse of a Nation--an infamy
+that shall rive and blast his children's children until they shrink from
+their own name as from the touch of pollution!"
+
+He gasped for breath, his restless hands fumbled at his throat, he
+staggered and would have fallen had not his black guards caught him. He
+revived, pushed them back on their haunches, and sat down. And then, with
+his big club foot thrust straight in front of him, his gnarled hands
+gripping the arms of his chair, the massive head shaking back and forth
+like a wounded lion, he continued his speech, which grew in fierce
+intensity with each laboured breath.
+
+The effect was electrical. Every Senator leaned forward to catch the
+lowest whisper, and so awful was the suspense in the galleries the
+listeners grew faint.
+
+When this last mad challenge was hurled into the teeth of the judges, the
+dazed crowd paused for breath and the galleries burst into a storm of
+applause.
+
+In vain the Chief Justice rose, his lionlike face livid with anger,
+pounded for order, and commanded the galleries to be cleared.
+
+They laughed at him. Roar after roar was the answer. The Chief Justice in
+loud angry tones ordered the Sergeant-at-Arms to clear the galleries.
+
+Men leaned over the rail and shouted in his face:
+
+"He can't do it!"
+
+"He hasn't got men enough!"
+
+"Let him try if he dares!"
+
+The doorkeepers attempted to enforce order by announcing it in the name of
+the peace and dignity and sovereign power of the Senate over its sacred
+chamber. The crowd had now become a howling mob which jeered them.
+
+Senator Grimes, of Iowa, rose and demanded the reason why the Senate was
+thus insulted and the order had not been enforced.
+
+A volley of hisses greeted his question.
+
+The Chief Justice, evidently quite nervous, declared the order would be
+enforced.
+
+Senator Trumbull, of Illinois, moved that the offenders be arrested.
+
+In reply the crowd yelled:
+
+"We'd like to see you do it!"
+
+At length the mob began to slowly leave the galleries under the impression
+that the High Court had adjourned.
+
+Suddenly a man cried out:
+
+"Hold on! They ain't going to adjourn. Let's see it out!"
+
+Hundreds took their seats again. In the corridors a crowd began to sing in
+wild chorus:
+
+"Old Grimes is dead, that poor old man." The women joined with glee.
+Between the verses the leader would curse the Iowa Senator as a traitor
+and copperhead. The singing could be distinctly heard by the Court as its
+roar floated through the open doors.
+
+When the Senate Chamber had been cleared and the most disgraceful scene
+that ever occurred within its portals had closed, the High Court
+Impeachment went into secret session to consider the evidence and its
+verdict.
+
+Within an hour from its adjournment it was known to the Managers that
+seven Republican Senators were doubtful, and that they formed a group
+under the leadership of two great constitutional lawyers who still
+believed in the sanctity of a judge's oath--Lyman Trumbull, of Illinois,
+and William Pitt Fessenden, of Maine. Around them had gathered Senators
+Grimes, of Iowa, Van Winkle, of West Virginia, Fowler, of Tennessee,
+Henderson, of Missouri, and Ross, of Kansas. The Managers were in a panic.
+If these men dared to hold together with the twelve Democrats, the
+President would be acquitted by one vote--they could count thirty-four
+certain for conviction.
+
+The Revolutionists threw to the winds the last scruple of decency, went
+into caucus and organized a conspiracy for forcing, within the few days
+which must pass before the verdict, these judges to submit to their
+decree.
+
+Fessenden and Trumbull were threatened with impeachment and expulsion from
+the Senate and bombarded by the most furious assaults from the press,
+which denounced them as infamous traitors, "as mean, repulsive, and
+noxious as hedgehogs in the cages of a travelling menagerie."
+
+A mass meeting was held in Washington which said:
+
+"Resolved, that we impeach Fessenden, Trumbull, and Grimes at the bar of
+justice and humanity, as traitors before whose guilt the infamy of
+Benedict Arnold becomes respectability and decency."
+
+The Managers sent out a circular telegram to every State from which came a
+doubtful judge:
+
+"Great danger to the peace of the country if impeachment fails. Send your
+Senators public opinion by resolutions, letters, and delegates."
+
+The man who excited most wrath was Ross, of Kansas. That Kansas of all
+States should send a "traitor" was more than the spirits of the
+Revolutionists could bear.
+
+A mass meeting in Leavenworth accordingly sent him the telegram:
+
+"Kansas has heard the evidence and demands the conviction of the
+President.
+
+"D. R. Anthony and 1,000 others."
+
+To this Ross replied:
+
+"I have taken an oath to do impartial justice. I trust I shall have the
+courage and honesty to vote according to the dictates of my judgment and
+for the highest good of my country."
+
+He got his answer:
+
+"Your motives are Indian contracts and greenbacks. Kansas repudiates you
+as she does all perjurers and skunks."
+
+The Managers organized an inquisition for the purpose of torturing and
+badgering Ross into submission. His one vote was all they lacked.
+
+They laid siege to little Vinnie Ream, the sculptress, to whom Congress
+had awarded a contract for the statue of Lincoln. Her studio was in the
+crypt of the Capitol. They threatened her with the wrath of Congress, the
+loss of her contract, and ruin of her career unless she found a way to
+induce Senator Ross, whom she knew, to vote against the President.
+
+Such an attempt to gain by fraud the verdict of a common court of law
+would have sent its promoters to prison for felony. Yet the Managers of
+this case, before the highest tribunal of the world, not only did it
+without a blush of shame, but cursed as a traitor every man who dared to
+question their motives.
+
+As the day approached for the Court to vote, Senator Ross remained to
+friend and foe a sealed mystery. Reporters swarmed about him, the target
+of a thousand eyes. His rooms were besieged by his radical constituents
+who had been imported from Kansas in droves to browbeat him into a promise
+to convict. His movements day and night, his breakfast, his dinner, his
+supper, the clothes he wore, the colour of his cravat, his friends and
+companions, were chronicled in hourly bulletins and flashed over the wires
+from the delirious Capital.
+
+Chief Justice Chase called the High Court of Impeachment to order, to
+render its verdict. Old Stoneman had again been carried to his chair in
+the arms of two negroes, and sat with his cold eyes searching the faces of
+the judges.
+
+The excitement had reached the highest pitch of intensity. A sense of
+choking solemnity brooded over the scene. The feeling grew that the hour
+had struck which would test the capacity of man to establish an enduring
+Republic.
+
+The Clerk read the Eleventh Article, drawn by the Great Commoner as the
+supreme test.
+
+As its last words died away the Chief Justice rose amid a silence that was
+agony, placed his hands on the sides of the desk as if to steady himself,
+and said:
+
+"Call the roll."
+
+Each Senator answered "Guilty" or "Not Guilty," exactly as they had been
+counted by the Managers, until Fessenden's name was called.
+
+A moment of stillness and the great lawyer's voice rang high, cold, clear,
+and resonant as a Puritan church bell on Sunday morning:
+
+"Not Guilty!"
+
+A murmur, half groan and sigh, half cheer and cry, rippled the great
+hall.
+
+The other votes were discounted now save that of Edmund G. Ross, of
+Kansas. No human being on earth knew what this man would do save the
+silent invisible man within his soul.
+
+Over the solemn trembling silence the voice of the Chief Justice rang:
+
+"Senator Ross, how say you? Is the respondent, Andrew Johnson, guilty or
+not guilty of a high misdemeanor as charged in this article?"
+
+The great Judge bent forward; his brow furrowed as Ross arose.
+
+His fellow Senators watched him spellbound. A thousand men and women,
+hanging from the galleries, focused their eyes on him. Old Stoneman drew
+his bristling brows down, watching him like an adder ready to strike, his
+lower lip protruding, his jaws clinched as a vise, his hands fumbling the
+arms of his chair.
+
+Every breath is held, every ear strained, as the answer falls from the
+sturdy Scotchman like the peal of a trumpet:
+
+"Not Guilty!"
+
+The crowd breathes--a pause, a murmur, the shuffle of a thousand feet----
+
+The President is acquitted, and the Republic lives!
+
+The House assembled and received the report of the verdict. Old Stoneman
+pulled himself half erect, holding to his desk, addressed the Speaker,
+introduced his second bill for the impeachment of the President, and fell
+fainting in the arms of his black attendants.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+TRIUMPH IN DEFEAT
+
+
+Upon the failure to convict the President, Edwin M. Stanton resigned, sank
+into despair and died, and a soldier Secretary of War opened the prison
+doors.
+
+Ben Cameron and his father hurried Southward to a home and land passing
+under a cloud darker than the dust and smoke of blood-soaked
+battlefields--the Black Plague of Reconstruction.
+
+For two weeks the old Commoner wrestled in silence with Death. When at
+last he spoke, it was to the stalwart negroes who had called to see him
+and were standing by his bedside.
+
+Turning his deep-sunken eyes on them a moment, he said slowly:
+
+"I wonder whom I'll get to carry me when you boys die!"
+
+Elsie hurried to his side and kissed him tenderly. For a week his mind
+hovered in the twilight that lies between time and eternity. He seemed to
+forget the passions and fury of his fierce career and live over the
+memories of his youth, recalling pathetically its bitter poverty and its
+fair dreams. He would lie for hours and hold Elsie's hand, pressing it
+gently.
+
+In one of his lucid moments he said:
+
+"How beautiful you are, my child! You shall be a queen. I've dreamed of
+boundless wealth for you and my boy. My plans are Napoleonic--and I shall
+not fail--never fear--aye, beyond the dreams of avarice!"
+
+"I wish no wealth save the heart treasure of those I love, father," was
+the soft answer.
+
+"Of course, little day-dreamer. But the old cynic who has outlived himself
+and knows the mockery of time and things will be wisdom for your
+foolishness. You shall keep your toys. What pleases you shall please me.
+Yet I will be wise for us both."
+
+She laid her hand upon his lips, and he kissed the warm little fingers.
+
+In these days of soul-nearness the iron heart softened as never before in
+love toward his children. Phil had hurried home from the West and secured
+his release from the remaining weeks of his term of service.
+
+As the father lay watching them move about the room, the cold light in his
+deep-set wonderful eyes would melt into a soft glow.
+
+As he grew stronger, the old fierce spirit of the unconquered leader began
+to assert itself. He would take up the fight where he left it off and
+carry it to victory.
+
+Elsie and Phil sent the doctor to tell him the truth and beg him to quit
+politics.
+
+"Your work is done; you have but three months to live unless you go South
+and find new life," was the verdict.
+
+"In either event I go to a warmer climate, eh, doctor?" said the cynic.
+
+"Perhaps," was the laughing reply.
+
+"Good. It suits me better. I've had the move in mind. I can do more
+effective work in the South for the next two years. Your decision is fate.
+I'll go at once."
+
+The doctor was taken aback.
+
+"Come now," he said persuasively. "Let a disinterested Englishman give you
+some advice. You've never taken any before. I give it as medicine, and I
+won't put it on your bill. Slow down on politics. Your recent defeat
+should teach you a lesson in conservatism."
+
+The old Commoner's powerful mouth became rigid, and the lower lip bulged:
+
+"Conservatism--fossil putrefaction!"
+
+"But defeat?"
+
+"Defeat?" cried the old man. "Who said I was defeated? The South lies in
+ashes at my feet--the very names of her proud States blotted from history.
+The Supreme Court awaits my nod. True, there's a man boarding in the White
+House, and I vote to pay his bills; but the page who answers my beck and
+call has more power. Every measure on which I've set my heart is law, save
+one--my Confiscation Act--and this but waits the fulness of time."
+
+The doctor, who was walking back and forth with his hands folded behind
+him, paused and said:
+
+"I marvel that a man of your personal integrity could conceive such a
+measure; you, who refused to accept the legal release of your debts until
+the last farthing was paid--you, whose cruelty of the lip is hideous, and
+yet beneath it so gentle a personality, I've seen the pages in the House
+stand at your back and mimic you while speaking, secure in the smile with
+which you turned to greet their fun. And yet you press this crime upon a
+brave and generous foe?"
+
+"A wrong can have no rights," said Stoneman calmly. "Slavery will not be
+dead until the landed aristocracy on which it rested is destroyed. I am
+not cruel or unjust. I am but fulfilling the largest vision of universal
+democracy that ever stirred the soul of man--a democracy that shall know
+neither rich nor poor, bond nor free, white nor black. If I use the wild
+pulse-beat of the rage of millions, it is only a means to an end--this
+grander vision of the soul."
+
+"Then why not begin at home this vision, and give the stricken South a
+moment to rise?"
+
+"No. The North is impervious to change, rich, proud, and unscathed by war.
+The South is in chaos and cannot resist. It is but the justice and wisdom
+of Heaven that the negro shall rule the land of his bondage. It is the
+only solution of the race problem. Lincoln's contention that we could not
+live half white and half black is sound at the core. When we proclaim
+equality, social, political, and economic for the negro, we mean always to
+enforce it in the South. The negro will never be treated as an equal in
+the North. We are simply a set of cold-blooded liars on that subject, and
+always have been. To the Yankee the very physical touch of a negro is
+pollution."
+
+"Then you don't believe this twaddle about equality?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes and no. Mankind in the large is a herd of mercenary gudgeons or
+fools. As a lawyer in Pennsylvania I have defended fifty murderers on
+trial for their lives. Forty-nine of them were guilty. All these I
+succeeded in acquitting. One of them was innocent. This one they hung. Can
+a man keep his face straight in such a world? Could negro blood degrade
+such stock? Might not an ape improve it? I preach equality as a poet and
+seer who sees a vision beyond the rim of the horizon of to-day."
+
+The old man's eyes shone with the set stare of a fanatic.
+
+"And you think the South is ready for this wild vision?"
+
+"Not ready, but helpless to resist. As a cold-blooded, scientific
+experiment, I mean to give the Black Man one turn at the Wheel of Life. It
+is an act of just retribution. Besides, in my plans I need his vote; and
+that settles it."
+
+"But will your plans work? Your own reports show serious trouble in the
+South already."
+
+Stoneman laughed.
+
+"I never read my own reports. They are printed in molasses to catch flies.
+The Southern legislatures played into my hands by copying the laws of New
+England relating to Servants, Masters, Apprentices, and Vagrants. But even
+these were repealed at the first breath of criticism. Neither the
+Freedman's Bureau nor the army has ever loosed its grip on the throat of
+the South for a moment. These disturbances and 'atrocities' are dangerous
+only when printed on campaign fly-paper."
+
+"And how will you master and control these ten great Southern States?"
+
+"Through my Reconstruction Acts by means of the Union League. As a secret
+between us, I am the soul of this order. I organized it in 1863 to secure
+my plan of confiscation. We pressed it on Lincoln. He repudiated it. We
+nominated Fremont at Cleveland against Lincoln in '64, and tried to split
+the party or force Lincoln to retire. Fremont, a conceited ass, went back
+on this plank in our platform, and we dropped him and helped elect Lincoln
+again."
+
+"I thought the Union League a patriotic and social organization?" said the
+doctor in surprise.
+
+"It has these features, but its sole aim as a secret order is to
+confiscate the property of the South. I will perfect this mighty
+organization until every negro stands drilled in serried line beneath its
+banners, send a solid delegation here to do my bidding, and return at the
+end of two years with a majority so overwhelming that my word will be law.
+I will pass my Confiscation Bill. If Ulysses S. Grant, the coming idol,
+falters, my second bill of Impeachment will only need the change of a
+name."
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+"Give up this madness. Your life is hanging by a thread. The Southern
+people even in their despair will never drink this black broth you are
+pressing to their lips."
+
+"They've got to drink it."
+
+"Your decision is unalterable?"
+
+"Absolutely. It's the breath I breathe. As my physician you may select the
+place to which I shall be banished. It must be reached by rail and wire. I
+care not its name or size. I'll make it the capital of the Nation.
+There'll be poetic justice in setting up my establishment in a fallen
+slaveholder's mansion."
+
+The doctor looked intently at the old man:
+
+"The study of men has become a sort of passion with me, but you are the
+deepest mystery I've yet encountered in this land of surprises."
+
+"And why?" asked the cynic.
+
+"Because the secret of personality resides in motives, and I can't find
+yours either in your actions or words."
+
+Stoneman glanced at him sharply from beneath his wrinkled brows and
+snapped.
+
+"Keep on guessing."
+
+"I will. In the meantime I'm going to send you to the village of Piedmont,
+South Carolina. Your son and daughter both seem enthusiastic over this
+spot."
+
+"Good; that settles it. And now that mine own have been conspiring against
+me," said Stoneman confidentially, "a little guile on my part. Not a word
+of what has passed between us to my children. Tell them I agree with your
+plans and give up my work. I'll give the same story to the press--I wish
+nothing to mar their happiness while in the South. My secret burdens need
+not cloud their young lives."
+
+Dr. Barnes took the old man by the hand:
+
+"I promise. My assistant has agreed to go with you. I'll say good-bye.
+It's an inspiration to look into a face like yours, lit by the splendour
+of an unconquerable will! But I want to say something to you before you
+set out on this journey."
+
+"Out with it," said the Commoner.
+
+"The breed to which the Southern white man belongs has conquered every
+foot of soil on this earth their feet have pressed for a thousand years. A
+handful of them hold in subjection three hundred millions in India. Place
+a dozen of them in the heart of Africa, and they will rule the continent
+unless you kill them----"
+
+"Wait," cried Stoneman, "until I put a ballot in the hand of every negro
+and a bayonet at the breast of every white man from the James to the Rio
+Grande!"
+
+"I'll tell you a little story," said the doctor with a smile. "I once had
+a half-grown eagle in a cage in my yard. The door was left open one day,
+and a meddlesome rooster hopped in to pick a fight. The eagle had been
+sick a week and seemed an easy mark. I watched. The rooster jumped and
+wheeled and spurred and picked pieces out of his topknot. The young eagle
+didn't know at first what he meant. He walked around dazed, with a hurt
+expression. When at last it dawned on him what the chicken was about, he
+simply reached out one claw, took the rooster by the neck, planted the
+other claw in his breast, and snatched his head off."
+
+The old man snapped his massive jaws together and grunted contemptuously.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Book III--The Reign of Terror
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+A FALLEN SLAVEHOLDER'S MANSION
+
+
+Piedmont, South Carolina, which Elsie and Phil had selected for reasons
+best known to themselves as the place of retreat for their father, was a
+favourite summer resort of Charleston people before the war.
+
+Ulster county, of which this village was the capital, bordered on the
+North Carolina line, lying alongside the ancient shore of York. It was
+settled by the Scotch folk who came from the North of Ireland in the great
+migrations which gave America three hundred thousand people of Covenanter
+martyr blood, the largest and most important addition to our population,
+larger in number than either the Puritans of New England or the so-called
+Cavaliers of Virginia and Eastern Carolina; and far more important than
+either, in the growth of American nationality.
+
+To a man they had hated Great Britain. Not a Tory was found among them.
+The cries of their martyred dead were still ringing in their souls when
+George III started on his career of oppression. The fiery words of Patrick
+Henry, their spokesman in the valley of Virginia, had swept the
+aristocracy of the Old Dominion into rebellion against the King and on
+into triumphant Democracy. They had made North Carolina the first home of
+freedom in the New World, issued the first Declaration of Independence in
+Mecklenburg, and lifted the first banner of rebellion against the tyranny
+of the Crown.
+
+They grew to the soil wherever they stopped, always home lovers and home
+builders, loyal to their own people, instinctive clan leaders and clan
+followers. A sturdy, honest, covenant-keeping, God-fearing, fighting
+people, above all things they hated sham and pretence. They never boasted
+of their families, though some of them might have quartered the royal arms
+of Scotland on their shields.
+
+To these sturdy qualities had been added a strain of Huguenot tenderness
+and vivacity.
+
+The culture of cotton as the sole industry had fixed African slavery as
+their economic system. With the heritage of the Old World had been blended
+forces inherent in the earth and air of the new Southland, something of
+the breath of its unbroken forests, the freedom of its untrod mountains,
+the temper of its sun, and the sweetness of its tropic perfumes.
+
+When Mrs. Cameron received Elsie's letter, asking her to secure for them
+six good rooms at the "Palmetto" hotel, she laughed. The big rambling
+hostelry had been burned by roving negroes, pigs were wallowing in the
+sulphur springs, and along its walks, where lovers of olden days had
+strolled, the cows were browsing on the shrubbery.
+
+But she laughed for a more important reason. They had asked for a six-room
+cottage if accommodations could not be had in the hotel.
+
+She could put them in the Lenoir place. The cotton crop from their farm
+had been stolen from the gin--the cotton tax of $200 could not be paid,
+and a mortgage was about to be foreclosed on both their farm and home. She
+had been brooding over their troubles in despair. The Stonemans' coming
+was a godsend.
+
+Mrs. Cameron was helping them set the house in order to receive the new
+tenants.
+
+"I declare," said Mrs. Lenoir gratefully. "It seems too good to be true.
+Just as I was about to give up--the first time in my life--here came those
+rich Yankees and with enough rent to pay the interest on the mortgages and
+our board at the hotel. I'll teach Margaret to paint, and she can give
+Marion lessons on the piano. The darkest hour's just before day. And last
+week I cried when they told me I must lose the farm."
+
+"I was heartsick over it for you."
+
+"You know, the farm was my dowry with the dozen slaves Papa gave us on our
+wedding-day. The negroes did as they pleased, yet we managed to live and
+were very happy."
+
+Marion entered and placed a bouquet of roses on the table, touching them
+daintily until she stood each flower apart in careless splendour. Their
+perfume, the girl's wistful dreamy blue eyes and shy elusive beauty, all
+seemed a part of the warm sweet air of the June morning. Mrs. Lenoir
+watched her lovingly.
+
+"Mamma, I'm going to put flowers in every room. I'm sure they haven't such
+lovely ones in Washington," said Marion eagerly, as she skipped out.
+
+The two women moved to the open window, through which came the drone of
+bees and the distant music of the river falls.
+
+"Marion's greatest charm," whispered her mother, "is in her way of doing
+things easily and gently without a trace of effort. Watch her bend over to
+get that rose. Did you ever see anything like the grace and symmetry of
+her figure--she seems a living flower!"
+
+"Jeannie, you're making an idol of her----"
+
+"Why not? With all our troubles and poverty, I'm rich in her! She's
+fifteen years old, her head teeming with romance. You know, I was married
+at fifteen. There'll be a half dozen boys to see her to-night in our new
+home--all of them head over heels in love with her."
+
+"Oh, Jeannie, you must not be so silly! We should worship God only."
+
+"Isn't she God's message to me and to the world?"
+
+"But if anything should happen to her----"
+
+The young mother laughed. "I never think of it. Some things are fixed. Her
+happiness and beauty are to me the sign of God's presence."
+
+"Well, I'm glad you're coming to live with us in the heart of town. This
+place is a cosey nest, just such a one as a poet lover would build here in
+the edge of these deep woods, but it is too far out for you to be alone.
+Dr. Cameron has been worrying about you ever since he came home."
+
+"I'm not afraid of the negroes. I don't know one of them who wouldn't go
+out of his way to do me a favour. Old Aleck is the only rascal I know
+among them, and he's too busy with politics now even to steal a chicken."
+
+"And Gus, the young scamp we used to own; you haven't forgotten him? He is
+back here, a member of the company of negro troops, and parades before the
+house every day to show off his uniform. Dr. Cameron told him yesterday
+he'd thrash him if he caught him hanging around the place again. He
+frightened Margaret nearly to death when she went to the barn to feed her
+horse."
+
+"I've never known the meaning of fear. We used to roam the woods and
+fields together all hours of the day and night: my lover, Marion, and I.
+This panic seems absurd to me."
+
+"Well, I'll be glad to get you two children under my wing. I was afraid
+I'd find you in tears over moving from your nest."
+
+"No, where Marion is I'm at home, and I'll feel I've a mother when I get
+with you."
+
+"Will you come to the hotel before they arrive?"
+
+"No; I'll welcome and tell them how glad I am they have brought me good
+luck."
+
+"I'm delighted, Jeannie. I wished you to do this, but I couldn't ask it. I
+can never do enough for this old man's daughter. We must make their stay
+happy. They say he's a terrible old Radical politician, but I suppose he's
+no meaner than the others. He's very ill, and she loves him devotedly. He
+is coming here to find health, and not to insult us. Besides, he was kind
+to me. He wrote a letter to the President. Nothing that I have will be too
+good for him or for his. It's very brave and sweet of you to stay and meet
+them."
+
+"I'm doing it to please Marion. She suggested it last night, sitting out
+on the porch in the twilight. She slipped her arm around me and said:
+
+"'Mamma, we must welcome them and make them feel at home. He is very ill.
+They will be tired and homesick. Suppose it were you and I, and we were
+taking my Papa to a strange place.'"
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the Stonemans arrived, the old man was too ill and nervous from the
+fatigue of the long journey to notice his surroundings or to be conscious
+of the restful beauty of the cottage into which they carried him. His room
+looked out over the valley of the river for miles, and the glimpse he got
+of its broad fertile acres only confirmed his ideas of the "slaveholding
+oligarchy" it was his life-purpose to crush. Over the mantel hung a steel
+engraving of Calhoun. He fell asleep with his deep, sunken eyes resting on
+it and a cynical smile playing about his grim mouth.
+
+Margaret and Mrs. Cameron had met the Stonemans and their physician at the
+train, and taken Elsie and her father in the old weather-beaten family
+carriage to the Lenoir cottage, apologising for Ben's absence.
+
+"He has gone to Nashville on some important legal business, and the doctor
+is ailing, but as the head of the clan Cameron he told me to welcome your
+father to the hospitality of the county, and beg him to let us know if he
+could be of help."
+
+The old man, who sat in a stupor of exhaustion, made no response, and
+Elsie hastened to say:
+
+"We appreciate your kindness more than I can tell you, Mrs. Cameron. I
+trust father will be better in a day or two, when he will thank you. The
+trip has been more than he could bear."
+
+"I am expecting Ben home this week," the mother whispered. "I need not
+tell you that he will be delighted at your coming."
+
+Elsie smiled and blushed.
+
+"And I'll expect Captain Stoneman to see me very soon," said Margaret
+softly. "You will not forget to tell him for me?"
+
+"He's a very retiring young man," said Elsie, "and pretends to be busy
+about our baggage just now. I'm sure he will find the way."
+
+Elsie fell in love at sight with Marion and her mother. Their easy genial
+manners, the genuineness of their welcome, and the simple kindness with
+which they sought to make her feel at home put her heart into a warm
+glow.
+
+Mrs. Lenoir explained the conveniences of the place and apologized for its
+defects, the results of the war.
+
+"I am sorry about the window curtains--we have used them all for dresses.
+Marion is a genius with a needle, and we took the last pair out of the
+parlour to make a dress for a birthday party. The year before, we used the
+ones in my room for a costume at a starvation party in a benefit for our
+rector--you know we're Episcopalians--strayed up here for our health from
+Charleston among these good Scotch Presbyterians."
+
+"We will soon place curtains at the windows," said Elsie cheerfully.
+
+"The carpets were sent to the soldiers for blankets during the war. It was
+all we could do for our poor boys, except to cut my hair and sell it. You
+see my hair hasn't grown out yet. I sent it to Richmond the last year of
+the war. I felt I must do something when my neighbours were giving so
+much. You know Mrs. Cameron lost four boys."
+
+"I prefer the floors bare," Elsie replied. "We will get a few rugs."
+
+She looked at the girlish hair hanging in ringlets about Mrs. Lenoir's
+handsome face, smiled pathetically, and asked:
+
+"Did you really make such sacrifices for your cause?"
+
+"Yes, indeed. I was glad when the war was ended for some things. We
+certainly needed a few pins, needles, and buttons, to say nothing of a cup
+of coffee or tea."
+
+"I trust you will never lack for anything again," said Elsie kindly.
+
+"You will bring us good luck," Mrs. Lenoir responded. "Your coming is so
+fortunate. The cotton tax Congress levied was so heavy this year we were
+going to lose everything. Such a tax when we are all about to starve! Dr.
+Cameron says it was an act of stupid vengeance on the South, and that no
+other farmers in America have their crops taxed by the National
+Government. I am so glad your father has come. He is not hunting for an
+office. He can help us, maybe."
+
+"I am sure he will," answered Elsie thoughtfully.
+
+Marion ran up the steps lightly, her hair dishevelled and face flushed.
+
+"Now, Mamma, it's almost sundown; you get ready to go. I want her awhile
+to show her about my things."
+
+She took Elsie shyly by the hand and led her into the lawn, while her
+mother paid a visit to each room, and made up the last bundle of odds and
+ends she meant to carry to the hotel.
+
+"I hope you will love the place as we do," said the girl simply.
+
+"I think it very beautiful and restful," Elsie replied. "This wilderness
+of flowers looks like fairyland. You have roses running on the porch
+around the whole length of the house."
+
+"Yes, Papa was crazy over the trailing roses, and kept planting them until
+the house seems just a frame built to hold them, with a roof on it. But
+you can see the river through the arches from three sides. Ben Cameron
+helped me set that big beauty on the south corner the day he ran away to
+the war----"
+
+"The view is glorious!" Elsie exclaimed, looking in rapture over the river
+valley.
+
+The village of Piedmont crowned an immense hill on the banks of the Broad
+River, just where it dashes over the last stone barrier in a series of
+beautiful falls and spreads out in peaceful glory through the plains
+toward Columbia and the distant sea. The muffled roar of these falls,
+rising softly through the trees on its wooded cliff, held the daily life
+of the people in the spell of distant music. In fair weather it soothed
+and charmed, and in storm and freshet rose to the deep solemn growl of
+thunder.
+
+The river made a sharp bend as it emerged from the hills and flowed
+westward for six miles before it turned south again. Beyond this six-mile
+sweep of its broad channel loomed the three ranges of the Blue Ridge
+Mountains, the first one dark, rich, distinct, clothed in eternal green,
+the last one melting in dim lines into the clouds and soft azure of the
+sky.
+
+As the sun began to sink now behind these distant peaks, each cloud that
+hung about them burst into a blazing riot of colour. The silver mirror of
+the river caught their shadows, and the water glowed in sympathy.
+
+As Elsie drank the beauty of the scene, the music of the falls ringing its
+soft accompaniment, her heart went out in a throb of love and pity for the
+land and its people.
+
+"Can you blame us for loving such a spot?" said Marion. "It's far more
+beautiful from the cliff at Lover's Leap. I'll take you there some day. My
+father used to tell me that this world was Heaven, and that the spirits
+would all come back to live here when sin and shame and strife were
+gone."
+
+"Are your father's poems published?" asked Elsie.
+
+"Only in the papers. We have them clipped and pasted in a scrapbook. I'll
+show you the one about Ben Cameron some day. You met him in Washington,
+didn't you?"
+
+"Yes," said Elsie quietly.
+
+"Then I know he made love to you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You're so pretty. He couldn't help it."
+
+"Does he make love to every pretty girl?"
+
+"Always. It's his religion. But he does it so beautifully you can't help
+believing it, until you compare notes with the other girls."
+
+"Did he make love to you?"
+
+"He broke my heart when he ran away. I cried a whole week. But I got over
+it. He seemed so big and grown when he came home this last time. I was
+afraid to let him kiss me."
+
+"Did he dare to try?"
+
+"No, and it hurt my feelings. You see, I'm not quite old enough to be
+serious with the big boys, and he looked so brave and handsome with that
+ugly scar on the edge of his forehead, and everybody was so proud of him.
+I was just dying to kiss him, and I thought it downright mean in him not
+to offer it."
+
+"Would you have let him?"
+
+"I expected him to try."
+
+"He is very popular in Piedmont?"
+
+"Every girl in town is in love with him."
+
+"And he in love with all?"
+
+"He pretends to be--but between us, he's a great flirt. He's gone to
+Nashville now on some pretended business. Goodness only knows where he got
+the money to go. I believe there's a girl there."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because he was so mysterious about his trip. I'll keep an eye on him at
+the hotel. You know Margaret, too, don't you?"
+
+"Yes; we met her in Washington."
+
+"Well, she's the slyest flirt in town--it runs in the blood--has a
+half-dozen beaux to see her every day. She plays the organ in the
+Presbyterian Sunday school, and the young minister is dead in love with
+her. They say they are engaged. I don't believe it. I think it's another
+one. But I must hurry, I've so much to show and tell you. Come here to the
+honeysuckle----"
+
+Marion drew the vines apart from the top of the fence and revealed a
+mocking-bird on her nest.
+
+"She's setting. Don't let anything hurt her. I'd push her off and show you
+her speckled eggs, but it's so late."
+
+"Oh, I wouldn't hurt her for the world!" cried Elsie with delight.
+
+"And right here," said Marion, bending gracefully over a tall bunch of
+grass, "is a pee-wee's nest, four darling little eggs; look out for
+that."
+
+Elsie bent and saw the pretty nest perched on stems of grass, and over it
+the taller leaves drawn to a point.
+
+"Isn't it cute!" she murmured.
+
+"Yes; I've six of these and three mocking-bird nests. I'll show them to
+you. But the most particular one of all is the wren's nest in the fork of
+the cedar, close to the house."
+
+She led Elsie to the tree, and about two feet from the ground, in the
+forks of the trunk, was a tiny hole from which peeped the eyes of a wren.
+
+"Whatever you do, don't let anything hurt her. Her mate sings
+'_Free-nigger! Free-nigger! Free-nigger!_' every morning in this cedar."
+
+"And you think we will specially enjoy that?" asked Elsie, laughing.
+
+"Now, really," cried Marion, taking Elsie's hand, "you know I couldn't
+think of such a mean joke. I forgot you were from the North. You seem so
+sweet and homelike. He really does sing that way. You will hear him in the
+morning, bright and early, '_Free-nigger! Free-nigger! Free-nigger!_' just
+as plain as I'm saying it."
+
+"And did you learn to find all these birds' nests by yourself?"
+
+"Papa taught me. I've got some jay-birds and some cat-birds so gentle they
+hop right down at my feet. Some people hate jay-birds. But I like them,
+they seem to be having such a fine time and enjoy life so. You don't mind
+jay-birds, do you?"
+
+"I love every bird that flies."
+
+"Except hawks and owls and buzzards----"
+
+"Well, I've seen so few I can't say I've anything particular against
+them."
+
+"Yes, they eat chickens--except the buzzards, and they're so ugly and
+filthy. Now, I've a chicken to show you--please don't let Aunt
+Cindy--she's to be your cook--please don't let her kill him--he's
+crippled--has something the matter with his foot. He was born that way.
+Everybody wanted to kill him, but I wouldn't let them. I've had an awful
+time raising him, but he's all right now."
+
+Marion lifted a box and showed her the lame pet, softly clucking his
+protest against the disturbance of his rest.
+
+"I'll take good care of _him_, never fear," said Elsie, with a tremor in
+her voice.
+
+"And I have a queer little black cat I wanted to show you, but he's gone
+off somewhere. I'd take him with me--only it's bad luck to move cats. He's
+awful wild--won't let anybody pet him but me. Mamma says he's an imp of
+Satan--but I love him. He runs up a tree when anybody else tries to get
+him. But he climbs right up on my shoulder. I never loved any cat quite as
+well as this silly, half-wild one. You don't mind black cats, do you?"
+
+"No, dear; I like cats."
+
+"Then I know you'll be good to him."
+
+"Is that all?" asked Elsie, with amused interest.
+
+"No, I've the funniest yellow dog that comes here at night to pick up the
+scraps and things. He isn't my dog--just a little personal friend of
+mine--but I like him very much, and always give him something. He's very
+cute. I think he's a nigger dog."
+
+"A nigger dog? What's that?"
+
+"He belongs to some coloured people, who don't give turn enough to eat. I
+love him because he's so faithful to his own folks. He comes to see me at
+night and pretends to love me, but as soon as I feed him he trots back
+home. When he first came, I laughed till I cried at his antics over a
+carpet--we had a carpet then. He never saw one before, and barked at the
+colours and the figures in the pattern. Then he'd lie down and rub his
+back on it and growl. You won't let anybody hurt him?"
+
+"No. Are there any others?"
+
+"Yes, I 'most forgot. If Sam Ross comes--Sam's an idiot who lives at the
+poorhouse--if he comes, he'll expect a dinner--my, my, I'm afraid he'll
+cry when he finds we're not here! But you can send him to the hotel to me.
+Don't let Aunt Cindy speak rough to him. Aunt Cindy's awfully good to me,
+but she can't bear Sam. She thinks he brings bad luck."
+
+"How on earth did you meet him?"
+
+"His father was rich. He was a good friend of my Papa's. We came near
+losing our farm once, because a bank failed. Mr. Ross sent Papa a signed
+check on his own bank, and told him to write the amount he needed on it,
+and pay him when he was able. Papa cried over it, and wouldn't use it, and
+wrote a poem on the back of the check--one of the sweetest of all, I
+think. In the war Mr. Ross lost his two younger sons, both killed at
+Gettysburg. His wife died heartbroken, and he only lived a year afterward.
+He sold his farm for Confederate money and everything was lost. Sam was
+sent to the poorhouse. He found out somehow that we loved him and comes to
+see us. He's as harmless as a kitten, and works in the garden
+beautifully."
+
+"I'll remember," Elsie promised.
+
+"And one thing more," she said hesitatingly. "Mamma asked me to speak to
+you of this--that's why she slipped away. There one little room we have
+locked. It was Papa's study just as he left it, with his papers scattered
+on the desk, the books and pictures that he loved--you won't mind?"
+
+Elsie slipped her arm about Marion, looked into the blue eyes, dim with
+tears, drew her close and said:
+
+"It shall be sacred, my child. You must come every day if possible, and
+help me."
+
+"I will. I've so many beautiful places to show you in the woods--places he
+loved, and taught us to see and love. They won't let me go in the woods
+any more alone. But you have a big brother. That must be very sweet."
+
+Mrs. Lenoir hurried to Elsie.
+
+"Come, Marion, we must be going now."
+
+"I am very sorry to see you leave the home you love so dearly, Mrs.
+Lenoir," said the Northern girl, taking her extended hand. "I hope you can
+soon find a way to have it back."
+
+"Thank you," replied the mother cheerily. "The longer you stay, the better
+for us. You don't know how happy I am over your coming. It has lifted a
+load from our hearts. In the liberal rent you pay us you are our
+benefactors. We are very grateful and happy."
+
+Elsie watched them walk across the lawn to the street, the daughter
+leaning on the mother's arm. She followed slowly and stopped behind one of
+the arbor-vitae bushes beside the gate. The full moon had risen as the
+twilight fell and flooded the scene with soft white light. A whippoorwill
+struck his first plaintive note, his weird song seeming to come from all
+directions and yet to be under her feet. She heard the rustle of dresses
+returning along the walk, and Marion and her mother stood at the gate.
+They looked long and tenderly at the house. Mrs. Lenoir uttered a broken
+sob, Marion slipped an arm around her, brushed the short curling hair back
+from her forehead, and softly said:
+
+"Mamma, dear, you know it's best. I don't mind. Everybody in town loves
+us. Every boy and girl in Piedmont worships you. We will be just as happy
+at the hotel."
+
+In the pauses between the strange bird's cry, Elsie caught the sound of
+another sob, and then a soothing murmur as of a mother bending over a
+cradle, and they were gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE EYES OF THE JUNGLE
+
+
+Elsie stood dreaming for a moment in the shadow of the arbor-vitae,
+breathing the sensuous perfumed air and listening to the distant music of
+the falls, her heart quivering in pity for the anguish of which she had
+been a witness. Again the spectral cry of the whippoorwill rang near-by,
+and she noted for the first time the curious cluck with which the bird
+punctuated each call. A sense of dim foreboding oppressed her.
+
+She wondered if the chatter of Marion about the girl in Nashville were
+only a child's guess or more. She laughed softly at the absurdity of the
+idea. Never since she had first looked into Ben Cameron's face did she
+feel surer of the honesty and earnestness of his love than to-day in this
+quiet home of his native village. It must be the queer call of the bird
+which appealed to superstitions she did not know were hidden within her
+being.
+
+Still dreaming under its spell, she was startled at the tread of two men
+approaching the gate.
+
+The taller, more powerful-looking man put his hand on the latch and
+paused.
+
+"Allow no white man to order you around. Remember you are a freeman and as
+good as any pale-face who walks this earth."
+
+She recognized the voice of Silas Lynch.
+
+"Ben Cameron dare me to come about de house," said the other voice.
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"He say, wid his eyes batten' des like lightnen', 'Ef I ketch you hangin'
+'roun' dis place agin', Gus, I'll jump on you en stomp de life outen
+ye.'"
+
+"Well, you tell him that your name is Augustus, not 'Gus,' and that the
+United States troops quartered in this town will be with him soon after
+the stomping begins. You wear its uniform. Give the white trash in this
+town to understand that they are not even citizens of the nation. As a
+sovereign voter, you, once their slave, are not only their equal--you are
+their master."
+
+"Dat I will!" was the firm answer.
+
+The negro to whom Lynch spoke disappeared in the direction taken by Marion
+and her mother, and the figure of the handsome mulatto passed rapidly up
+the walk, ascended the steps and knocked at the door.
+
+Elsie followed him.
+
+"My father is too much fatigued with his journey to be seen now; you must
+call to-morrow," she said.
+
+The negro lifted his hat and bowed:
+
+"Ah, we are delighted to welcome you, Miss Stoneman, to our land! Your
+father asked me to call immediately on his arrival. I have but obeyed his
+orders."
+
+Elsie shrank from the familiarity of his manner and the tones of authority
+and patronage with which he spoke.
+
+"He cannot be seen at this hour," she answered shortly.
+
+"Perhaps you will present my card, then--say that I am at his service, and
+let him appoint the time at which I shall return?"
+
+She did not invite him in, but with easy assurance he took his seat on the
+joggle-board beside the door and awaited her return.
+
+Against her urgent protest, Stoneman ordered Lynch to be shown at once to
+his bedroom.
+
+When the door was closed, the old Commoner, without turning to greet his
+visitor or moving his position in bed, asked:
+
+"Are you following my instructions?"
+
+"To the letter, sir."
+
+"You are initiating the negroes into the League and teaching them the new
+catechism?"
+
+"With remarkable success. Its secrecy and ritual appeal to them. Within
+six months we shall have the whole race under our control almost to a
+man."
+
+"_Almost_ to a man?"
+
+"We find some so attached to their former masters that reason is
+impossible with them. Even threats and the promise of forty acres of land
+have no influence."
+
+The old man snorted with contempt.
+
+"If anything could reconcile me to the Satanic Institution it is the
+character of the wretches who submit to it and kiss the hand that strikes.
+After all, a slave deserves to be a slave. The man who is mean enough to
+wear chains ought to wear them. You must teach, _teach_, TEACH these black
+hounds to know they are men, not brutes!"
+
+The old man paused a moment, and his restless hands fumbled the cover.
+
+"Your first task, as I told you in the beginning, is to teach every negro
+to stand erect in the presence of his former master and assert his
+manhood. Unless he does this, the South will bristle with bayonets in
+vain. The man who believes he is a dog, is one. The man who believes
+himself a king, may become one. Stop this snivelling and sneaking round
+the back doors. I can do nothing, God Almighty can do nothing, for a
+coward. Fix this as the first law of your own life. Lift up your head! The
+world is yours. Take it. Beat this into the skulls of your people, if you
+do it with an axe. Teach them the military drill at once. I'll see that
+Washington sends the guns. The state, when under your control, can furnish
+the powder."
+
+"It will surprise you to know the thoroughness with which this has been
+done already by the League," said Lynch. "The white master believed he
+could vote the negro as he worked him in the fields during the war. The
+League, with its blue flaming altar, under the shadows of night, has
+wrought a miracle. The negro is the enemy of his former master and will be
+for all time."
+
+"For the present," said the old man meditatively, "not a word to a living
+soul as to my connection with this work. When the time is ripe, I'll show
+my hand."
+
+Elsie entered, protesting against her father's talking longer, and showed
+Lynch to the door.
+
+He paused on the moonlit porch and tried to engage her in familiar talk.
+
+She cut him short, and he left reluctantly.
+
+As he bowed his thick neck in pompous courtesy, she caught with a shiver
+the odour of pomade on his black half-kinked hair. He stopped on the lower
+step, looked back with smiling insolence, and gazed intently at her
+beauty. The girl shrank from the gleam of the jungle in his eyes and
+hurried within.
+
+She found her father sunk in a stupor. Her cry brought the young surgeon
+hurrying into the room, and at the end of an hour he said to Elsie and
+Phil:
+
+"He has had a stroke of paralysis. He may lie in mental darkness for
+months and then recover. His heart action is perfect. Patience, care, and
+love will save him. There is no cause for immediate alarm."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+AUGUSTUS CAESAR
+
+
+Phil early found the home of the Camerons the most charming spot in town.
+As he sat in the old-fashioned parlour beside Margaret, his brain seethed
+with plans for building a hotel on a large scale on the other side of the
+Square and restoring her home intact.
+
+The Cameron homestead was a large brick building with an ample porch
+looking out directly on the Court House Square, standing in the middle of
+a lawn full of trees, flowers, shrubbery, and a wilderness of evergreen
+boxwood planted fifty years before. It was located on the farm from which
+it had always derived its support. The farm extended up into the village
+itself, with the great barn easily seen from the street.
+
+Phil was charmed with the doctor's genial personality. He often found the
+father a decidedly easier person to get along with than his handsome
+daughter. The Rev. Hugh McAlpin was a daily caller, and Margaret had a
+tantalizing way of showing her deference to his opinions.
+
+Phil hated this preacher from the moment he laid eyes on him. His
+pugnacious piety he might have endured but for the fact that he was
+good-looking and eloquent. When he rose in the pulpit in all his sacred
+dignity, fixed his eyes on Margaret, and began in tenderly modulated voice
+to tell about the love of God, Phil clinched his fist. He didn't care to
+join the Presbyterian church, but he quietly made up his mind that, if it
+came to the worst and she asked him, he would join anything. What made him
+furious was the air of assurance with which the young divine carried
+himself about Margaret, as if he had but to say the word and it would be
+fixed as by a decree issued from before the foundations of the world.
+
+He was pleased and surprised to find that his being a Yankee made no
+difference in his standing or welcome. The people seemed unconscious of
+the part his father played at Washington. Stoneman's Confiscation Bill had
+not yet been discussed in Congress, and the promise of land to the negroes
+was universally regarded as a hoax of the League to win their followers.
+The old Commoner was not an orator. Hence his name was scarcely known in
+the South. The Southern people could not conceive of a great leader except
+one who expressed his power through the megaphone of oratory. They held
+Charles Sumner chiefly responsible for Reconstruction.
+
+The fact that Phil was a Yankee who had no axe to grind in the South
+caused the people to appeal to him in a pathetic way that touched his
+heart. He had not been in town two weeks before he was on good terms with
+every youngster, had the entree to every home, and Ben had taken him,
+protesting vehemently, to see every pretty girl there. He found that, in
+spite of war and poverty, troubles present and troubles to come, the young
+Southern woman was the divinity that claimed and received the chief
+worship of man.
+
+The tremendous earnestness with which these youngsters pursued the work of
+courting, all of them so poor they scarcely had enough to eat, amazed and
+alarmed him beyond measure. He found in several cases as many as four
+making a dead set for one girl, as if heaven and earth depended on the
+outcome, while the girl seemed to receive it all as a matter of
+course--her just tribute.
+
+Every instinct of his quiet reserved nature revolted at any such attempt
+to rush his cause with Margaret, and yet it made the cold chills run down
+his spine to see that Presbyterian preacher drive his buggy up to the
+hotel, take her to ride, and stay three hours. He knew where they had
+gone--to Lover's Leap and along the beautiful road which led to the North
+Carolina line. He knew the way--Margaret had showed him. This road was the
+Way of Romance. Every farmhouse, cabin, and shady nook along its beaten
+track could tell its tale of lovers fleeing from the North to find
+happiness in the haven of matrimony across the line in South Carolina.
+Everything seemed to favour marriage in this climate. The state required
+no license. A legal marriage could be celebrated, anywhere, at any time,
+by a minister in the presence of two witnesses, with or without the
+consent of parent or guardian. Marriage was the easiest thing in the
+state--divorce the one thing impossible. Death alone could grant divorce.
+
+He was now past all reason in love. He followed the movement of Margaret's
+queenly figure with pathetic abandonment. Beneath her beautiful manners he
+swore with a shiver that she was laughing at him. Now and then he caught a
+funny expression about her eyes, as if she were consumed with a sly sense
+of humour in her love affairs.
+
+What he felt to be his manliest traits, his reserve, dignity, and moral
+earnestness, she must think cold and slow beside the dash, fire, and
+assurance of these Southerners. He could tell by the way she encouraged
+the preacher before his eyes that she was criticizing and daring him to
+let go for once. Instead of doing it, he sank back appalled at the
+prospect and let the preacher carry her off again.
+
+He sought solace in Dr. Cameron, who was utterly oblivious of his
+daughter's love affairs.
+
+Phil was constantly amazed at the variety of his knowledge, the
+genuineness of his culture, his modesty, and the note of youth and cheer
+with which he still pursued the study of medicine.
+
+His company was refreshing for its own sake. The slender graceful figure,
+ruddy face, with piercing, dark-brown eyes in startling contrast to his
+snow-white hair and beard, had for Phil a perpetual charm. He never tired
+listening to his talk, and noting the peculiar grace and dignity with
+which he carried himself, unconscious of the commanding look of his
+brilliant eyes.
+
+"I hear that you have used hypnotism in your practice, Doctor," Phil said
+to him one day, as he watched with fascination the changing play of his
+mobile features.
+
+"Oh, yes! used it for years. Southern doctors have always been pioneers in
+the science of medicine. Dr. Crawford Long, of Georgia, you know, was the
+first practitioner in America to apply anesthesia to surgery."
+
+"But where did you run up against hypnotism? I thought this a new thing
+under the sun?"
+
+The doctor laughed.
+
+"It's not a home industry, exactly. I became interested in it in Edinburgh
+while a medical student, and pursued it with increased interest in
+Paris."
+
+"Did you study medicine abroad?" Phil asked in surprise.
+
+"Yes; I was poor, but I managed to raise and to borrow enough to take
+three years on the other side. I put all I had and all my credit in it.
+I've never regretted the sacrifice. The more I saw of the great world, the
+better I liked my own world. I've given these farmers and their families
+the best God gave to me."
+
+"Do you find much use for your powers of hypnosis?" Phil asked.
+
+"Only in an experimental way. Naturally I am endowed with this
+gift--especially over certain classes who are easily the subjects of
+extreme fear. I owned a rascally slave named Gus whom I used to watch
+stealing. Suddenly confronting him, I've thrown him into unconsciousness
+with a steady gaze of the eye, until he would drop on his face, trembling
+like a leaf, unable to speak until I allowed him."
+
+"How do you account for such powers?"
+
+"I don't account for them at all. They belong to the world of spiritual
+phenomena of which we know so little and yet which touch our material
+lives at a thousand points every day. How do we account for sleep and
+dreams, or second sight, or the day dreams which we call visions?"
+
+Phil was silent, and the doctor went on dreamily:
+
+"The day my boy Richard was killed at Gettysburg, I saw him lying dead in
+a field near a house. I saw some soldiers bury him in the corner of that
+field, and then an old man go to the grave, dig up his body, cart it away
+into the woods, and throw it into a ditch. I saw it before I heard of the
+battle or knew that he was in it. He was reported killed, and his body has
+never been found. It is the one unspeakable horror of the war to me. I'll
+never get over it."
+
+"How very strange!" exclaimed Phil.
+
+"And yet the war was nothing, my boy, to the horrors I feel clutching the
+throat of the South to-day. I'm glad you and your father are down here.
+Your disinterested view of things may help us at Washington when we need
+it most. The South seems to have no friend at court."
+
+"Your younger men, I find, are hopeful, Doctor," said Phil.
+
+"Yes, the young never see danger until it's time to die. I'm not a
+pessimist, but I was happier in jail. Scores of my old friends have given
+up in despair and died. Delicate and cultured women are living on cowpeas,
+corn bread, and molasses--and of such quality they would not have fed it
+to a slave. Children go to bed hungry. Droves of brutal negroes roam at
+large, stealing, murdering, and threatening blacker crimes. We are under
+the heel of petty military tyrants, few of whom ever smelled gunpowder in
+a battle. At the approaching election, not a decent white man in this
+country can take the infamous test oath. I am disfranchised because I gave
+a cup of water to the lips of one of my dying boys on the battlefield. My
+slaves are all voters. There will be a negro majority of more than one
+hundred thousand in this state. Desperadoes are here teaching these
+negroes insolence and crime in their secret societies. The future is a
+nightmare."
+
+[Illustration: HENRY WALTHALL AS BEN CAMERON.]
+
+"You have my sympathy, sir," said Phil warmly, extending his hand. "These
+Reconstruction Acts, conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity, can
+bring only shame and disgrace until the last trace of them is wiped from
+our laws. I hope it will not be necessary to do it in blood."
+
+The doctor was deeply touched. He could not be mistaken in the genuineness
+of any man's feeling. He never dreamed this earnest straightforward Yankee
+youngster was in love with Margaret, and it would have made no difference
+in the accuracy of his judgment.
+
+"Your sentiments do you honour, sir," he said with grave courtesy. "And
+you honour us and our town with your presence and friendship."
+
+As Phil hurried home in a warm glow of sympathy for the people whose
+hospitality had made him their friend and champion, he encountered a negro
+trooper standing on the corner, watching the Cameron house with furtive
+glance.
+
+Instinctively he stopped, surveyed the man from head to foot and asked:
+
+"What's the trouble?"
+
+"None er yo' business," the negro answered, slouching across to the
+opposite side of the street.
+
+Phil watched him with disgust. He had the short, heavy-set neck of the
+lower order of animals. His skin was coal black, his lips so thick they
+curled both ways up and down with crooked blood marks across them. His
+nose was flat, and its enormous nostrils seemed in perpetual dilation. The
+sinister bead eyes, with brown splotches in their whites, were set wide
+apart and gleamed apelike under his scant brows. His enormous cheekbones
+and jaws seemed to protrude beyond the ears and almost hide them.
+
+"That we should send such soldiers here to flaunt our uniform in the faces
+of these people!" he exclaimed, with bitterness.
+
+He met Ben hurrying home from a visit to Elsie. The two young soldiers
+whose prejudices had melted in the white heat of battle had become fast
+friends.
+
+Phil laughed and winked:
+
+"I'll meet you to-night around the family altar!"
+
+When he reached home, Ben saw, slouching in front of the house, walking
+back and forth and glancing furtively behind him, the negro trooper whom
+his friend had passed.
+
+He walked quickly in front of him, and blinking his eyes rapidly, said:
+
+"Didn't I tell you, Gus, not to let me catch you hanging around this house
+again?"
+
+The negro drew himself up, pulling his blue uniform into position as his
+body stretched out of its habitual slouch, and answered:
+
+"My name ain't 'Gus.'"
+
+Ben gave a quick little chuckle and leaned back against the palings, his
+hand resting on one that was loose. He glanced at the negro carelessly and
+said:
+
+"Well, Augustus Caesar, I give your majesty thirty seconds to move off the
+block."
+
+Gus' first impulse was to run, but remembering himself he threw back his
+shoulders and said:
+
+"I reckon de streets free----"
+
+"Yes, and so is kindling wood!"
+
+Quick as a flash of lightning the paling suddenly left the fence and broke
+three times in such bewildering rapidity on the negro's head he forgot
+everything he ever knew or thought he knew save one thing--the way to run.
+He didn't fly, but he made remarkable use of the facilities with which he
+had been endowed.
+
+Ben watched him disappear toward the camp.
+
+He picked up the pieces of paling, pulled a strand of black wool from a
+splinter, looked at it curiously and said:
+
+"A sprig of his majesty's hair--I'll doubtless remember him without it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+AT THE POINT OF THE BAYONET
+
+
+Within an hour from Ben's encounter he was arrested without warrant by the
+military commandant, handcuffed, and placed on the train for Columbia,
+more than a hundred miles distant. The first purpose of sending him in
+charge of a negro guard was abandoned for fear of a riot. A squad of white
+troops accompanied him.
+
+Elsie was waiting at the gate, watching for his coming, her heart aglow
+with happiness.
+
+When Marion and little Hugh ran to tell the exciting news, she thought it
+a joke and refused to believe it.
+
+"Come, dear, don't tease me; you know it's not true!"
+
+"I wish I may die if 'tain't so!" Hugh solemnly declared. "He run Gus away
+'cause he scared Aunt Margaret so. They come and put handcuffs on him and
+took him to Columbia. I tell you Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Margaret are
+mad!"
+
+Elsie called Phil and begged him to see what had happened.
+
+When Phil reported Ben's arrest without a warrant, and the indignity to
+which he had been subjected on the amazing charge of resisting military
+authority, Elsie hurried with Marion and Hugh to the hotel to express her
+indignation, and sent Phil to Columbia on the next train to fight for his
+release.
+
+By the use of a bribe Phil discovered that a special inquisition had been
+hastily organized to procure perjured testimony against Ben on the charge
+of complicity in the murder of a carpet-bag adventurer named Ashburn, who
+had been killed at Columbia in a row in a disreputable resort. This murder
+had occurred the week Ben Cameron was in Nashville. The enormous reward of
+$25,000 had been offered for the conviction of any man who could be
+implicated in the killing. Scores of venal wretches, eager for this blood
+money, were using every device of military tyranny to secure evidence on
+which to convict--no matter who the man might be. Within six hours of his
+arrival they had pounced on Ben.
+
+They arrested as a witness an old negro named John Stapler, noted for his
+loyalty to the Camerons. The doctor had saved his life once in a dangerous
+illness. They were going to put him to torture and force him to swear that
+Ben Cameron had tried to bribe him to kill Ashburn. General Howle, the
+Commandant of the Columbia district, was in Charleston on a visit to
+headquarters.
+
+Phil resorted to the ruse of pretending, as a Yankee, the deepest sympathy
+for Ashburn, and by the payment of a fee of twenty dollars to the Captain,
+was admitted to the fort to witness the torture.
+
+They led the old man trembling into the presence of the Captain, who sat
+on an improvised throne in full uniform.
+
+"Have you ordered a barber to shave this man's head?" sternly asked the
+judge.
+
+"Please, Marster, fer de Lawd's sake, I ain' done nuttin'--doan' shave my
+head. Dat ha'r been wropped lak dat fur ten year! I die sho' ef I lose my
+ha'r."
+
+"Bring the barber, and take him back until he comes," was the order. In an
+hour they led him again into the room blindfolded, and placed him in a
+chair.
+
+"Have you let him see a preacher before putting him through?" the Captain
+asked. "I have an order from the General in Charleston to put him through
+to-day."
+
+"For Gawd's sake, Marster, doan' put me froo--I ain't done nuttin' en I
+doan' know nuttin'!"
+
+The old negro slipped to his knees, trembling from head to foot.
+
+The guards caught him by the shoulders and threw him back into the chair.
+The bandage was removed, and just in front of him stood a brass cannon
+pointed at his head, a soldier beside it holding the string ready to pull.
+John threw himself backward, yelling:
+
+"Goddermighty!"
+
+When he scrambled to his feet and started to run, another cannon swung on
+him from the rear. He dropped to his knees and began to pray.
+
+"Yas, Lawd, I'se er comin'. I hain't ready--but, Lawd, I got ter come!
+Save me!"
+
+"Shave him!" the Captain ordered.
+
+While the old man sat moaning, they lathered his head with two
+scrubbing-brushes and shaved it clean.
+
+"Now stand him up by the wall and measure him for his coffin," was the
+order.
+
+They snatched him from the chair, pushed him against the wall, and
+measured him. While they were taking his measure, the man next to him
+whispered:
+
+"Now's the time to save your hide--tell all about Ben Cameron trying to
+hire you to kill Ashburn."
+
+"Give him a few minutes," said the Captain, "and maybe we can hear what
+Mr. Cameron said about Ashburn."
+
+"I doan' know nuttin', General," pleaded the old darkey. "I ain't heard
+nuttin'--I ain't seed Marse Ben fer two monts."
+
+"You needn't lie to us. The rebels have been posting you. But it's no use.
+We'll get it out of you."
+
+"'Fo' Gawd, Marster, I'se telling de truf!"
+
+"Put him in the dark cell and keep him there the balance of his life
+unless he tells," was the order.
+
+At the end of four days, Phil was summoned again to witness the show.
+
+John was carried to another part of the fort and shown the sweat-box.
+
+"Now tell all you know or in you go!" said his tormentor.
+
+The negro looked at the engine of torture in abject terror--a closet in
+the walls of the fort just big enough to admit the body, with an
+adjustable top to press down too low for the head to be held erect. The
+door closed tight against the breast of the victim. The only air admitted
+was through an auger-hole in the door.
+
+The old man's lips moved in prayer.
+
+"Will you tell?" growled the Captain.
+
+"I cain't tell ye nuttin' 'cept'n' a lie!" he moaned.
+
+They thrust him in, slammed the door, and in a loud voice the Captain
+said:
+
+"Keep him there for thirty days unless he tells."
+
+He was left in the agony of the sweat-box for thirty-three hours and taken
+out. His limbs were swollen and when he attempted to walk he tottered and
+fell.
+
+The guard jerked him to his feet, and the Captain said:
+
+"I'm afraid we've taken him out too soon, but if he don't tell he can go
+back and finish the month out."
+
+The poor old negro dropped in a faint, and they carried him back to his
+cell.
+
+Phil determined to spare no means, fair or foul, to secure Ben's release
+from the clutches of these devils. He had as yet been unable to locate his
+place of confinement.
+
+He continued his ruse of friendly curiosity, kept in touch with the
+Captain, and the Captain in touch with his pocketbook.
+
+Summoned to witness another interesting ceremony, he hurried to the fort.
+
+The officer winked at him confidentially, and took him out to a row of
+dungeons built of logs and ceiled inside with heavy boards. A single pane
+of glass about eight inches square admitted light ten feet from the
+ground.
+
+There was a commotion inside, curses, groans, and cries for mercy mingling
+in rapid succession.
+
+"What is it?" asked Phil.
+
+"Hell's goin' on in there!" laughed the officer.
+
+"Evidently."
+
+A heavy crash, as though a ton weight had struck the floor, and then all
+was still.
+
+"By George, it's too bad we can't see it all!" exclaimed the officer.
+
+"What does it mean?" urged Phil.
+
+Again the Captain laughed immoderately.
+
+"I've got a blue-blood in there taking the bluin' out of his system. He
+gave me some impudence. I'm teaching him who's running this country!"
+
+"What are you doing to him?" Phil asked with a sudden suspicion.
+
+"Oh, just having a little fun! I put two big white drunks in there with
+him--half-fighting drunks, you know--and told them to work on his teeth
+and manicure his face a little to initiate him into the ranks of the
+common people, so to speak!"
+
+Again he laughed.
+
+Phil, listening at the keyhole, held up his hand:
+
+"Hush, they're talking----"
+
+He could hear Ben Cameron's voice in the softest drawl:
+
+"Say it again."
+
+"Please, Marster!"
+
+"Now both together, and a little louder!"
+
+"_Please, Marster_," came the united chorus.
+
+"Now what kind of a dog did I say you are?"
+
+"The kind as comes when his marster calls."
+
+"Both together--the under dog seems to have too much cover, like his mouth
+might be full of cotton."
+
+They repeated it louder.
+
+"A common--stump-tailed--cur-dog?"
+
+"Yessir."
+
+"Say it."
+
+"A common--stump-tailed--cur-dog--Marster!"
+
+"A pair of them."
+
+"A pair of 'em."
+
+"No, the whole thing--all together--'we--are--a--pair!'"
+
+"Yes--Marster." They repeated it in chorus.
+
+"With apologies to the dogs----"
+
+"Apologies to the dogs----"
+
+"And why does your master honour the kennel with his presence to-day?"
+
+"He hit a nigger on the head so hard that he strained the nigger's ankle,
+and he's restin' from his labours."
+
+"That's right, Towser. If I had you and Tige a few hours every day I could
+make good squirrel-dogs out of you."
+
+There was a pause. Phil looked up and smiled.
+
+"What does it sound like?" asked the Captain, with a shade of doubt in his
+voice.
+
+"Sounds to me like a Sunday-school teacher taking his class through a new
+catechism."
+
+The Captain fumbled hurriedly for his keys.
+
+"There's something wrong in there."
+
+He opened the door and sprang in.
+
+Ben Cameron was sitting on top of the two toughs, knocking their heads
+together as they repeated each chorus.
+
+"Walk in, gentlemen. The show is going on now--the animals are doing
+beautifully," said Ben.
+
+The Captain muttered an oath. Phil suddenly grasped him by the throat,
+hurled him against the wall, and snatched the keys from his hand.
+
+"Now open your mouth, you white-livered cur, and inside of twenty-four
+hours I'll have you behind the bars. I have all the evidence I need. I'm
+an ex-officer of the United States Army, of the fighting corps--not the
+vulture division. This is my friend. Accompany us to the street and strike
+your charges from the record."
+
+The coward did as he was ordered, and Ben hurried back to Piedmont with a
+friend toward whom he began to feel closer than a brother.
+
+When Elsie heard the full story of the outrage, she bore herself toward
+Ben with unusual tenderness, and yet he knew that the event had driven
+their lives farther apart. He felt instinctively the cold silent eye of
+her father, and his pride stiffened under it. The girl had never
+considered the possibility of a marriage without her father's blessing.
+Ben Cameron was too proud to ask it. He began to fear that the differences
+between her father and his people reached to the deepest sources of life.
+
+Phil found himself a hero at the Cameron House. Margaret said little, but
+her bearing spoke in deeper language than words. He felt it would be mean
+to take advantage of her gratitude.
+
+But he was quick to respond to the motherly tenderness of Mrs. Cameron. In
+the groups of neighbours who gathered in the evenings to discuss with the
+doctor the hopes, fears, and sorrows of the people, Phil was a charmed
+listener to the most brilliant conversations he had ever heard. It seemed
+the normal expression of their lives. He had never before seen people come
+together to talk to one another after this fashion. More and more the
+simplicity, dignity, patience, courtesy, and sympathy of these people in
+their bearing toward one another impressed him. More and more he grew to
+like them.
+
+Marion went out of her way to express her open admiration for Phil and
+tease him about Margaret. The Rev. Hugh McAlpin was monopolizing her on
+the Wednesday following his return from Columbia and Phil sought Marion
+for sympathy.
+
+"What will you give me if I tease you about Margaret right before her?"
+she asked.
+
+He blushed furiously.
+
+"Don't you dare such a thing on peril of your life!"
+
+"You know you like to be teased about her," she cried, her blue eyes
+dancing with fun.
+
+"With such a pretty little friend to do the teasing all by ourselves,
+perhaps----"
+
+"You'll never get her unless you have more spunk."
+
+"Then I'll find consolation with you."
+
+"No, I mean to marry young."
+
+"And your ideal of life?"
+
+"To fill the world with flowers, laughter, and music--especially my own
+home--and never do a thing I can make my husband do for me! How do you
+like it?"
+
+"I think it very sweet," Phil answered soberly.
+
+At noon on the following Friday, the Piedmont _Eagle_ appeared with an
+editorial signed by Dr. Cameron, denouncing in the fine language of the
+old school the arrest of Ben as "despotism and the usurpation of
+authority."
+
+At three o'clock, Captain Gilbert, in command of the troops stationed in
+the village, marched a squad of soldiers to the newspaper office. One of
+them carried a sledge-hammer. In ten minutes he demolished the office,
+heaped the type and their splintered cases on top of the battered press in
+the middle of the street, and set fire to the pile.
+
+On the courthouse door he nailed this proclamation:
+
+  _To the People of Ulster County_:
+
+  The censures of the press, directed against the servants of the
+  people, may be endured; but the military force in command of this
+  district are not the servants of the people of South Carolina. WE ARE
+  YOUR MASTERS. The impertinence of newspaper comment on the military
+  will not be brooked UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WHATEVER.
+
+                                                     G. C. Gilbert,
+                                                  Captain in Command.
+
+Not content with this display of power, he determined to make an example
+of Dr. Cameron, as the leader of public opinion in the county.
+
+He ordered a squad of his negro troops to arrest him immediately and take
+him to Columbia for obstructing the execution of the Reconstruction Acts.
+He placed the squad under command of Gus, whom he promoted to be a
+corporal, with instructions to wait until the doctor was inside his house,
+boldly enter it and arrest him.
+
+When Gus marched his black janizaries into the house, no one was in the
+office. Margaret had gone for a ride with Phil, and Ben had strolled with
+Elsie to Lover's Leap, unconscious of the excitement in town.
+
+Dr. Cameron himself had heard nothing of it, having just reached home from
+a visit to a country patient.
+
+Gus stationed his men at each door, and with another trooper walked
+straight into Mrs. Cameron's bedroom, where the doctor was resting on a
+lounge.
+
+Had an imp of perdition suddenly sprung through the floor, the master of
+the house of Cameron would not have been more enraged or surprised.
+
+A sudden leap, as the spring of a panther, and he stood before his former
+slave, his slender frame erect, his face a livid spot in its snow-white
+hair, his brilliant eyes flashing with fury.
+
+Gus suddenly lost control of his knees.
+
+His old master transfixed him with his eyes, and in a voice, whose tones
+gripped him by the throat, said:
+
+"How dare you?"
+
+The gun fell from the negro's hand, and he dropped to the floor on his
+face.
+
+His companion uttered a yell and sprang through the door, rallying the men
+as he went:
+
+"Fall back! Fall back! He's killed Gus! Shot him dead wid his eye. He's
+conjured him! Git de whole army quick."
+
+They fled to the Commandant.
+
+Gilbert ordered the negroes to their tents and led his whole company of
+white regulars to the hotel, arrested Dr. Cameron, and rescued his
+fainting trooper, who had been revived and placed under a tree on the
+lawn.
+
+The little Captain had a wicked look on his face. He refused to allow the
+doctor a moment's delay to leave instructions for his wife, who had gone
+to visit a neighbour. He was placed in the guard-house, and a detail of
+twenty soldiers stationed around it.
+
+The arrest was made so quickly, not a dozen people in town had heard of
+it. As fast as it was known, people poured into the house, one by one, to
+express their sympathy. But a greater surprise awaited them.
+
+Within thirty minutes after he had been placed in prison, a Lieutenant
+entered, accompanied by a soldier and a negro blacksmith who carried in
+his hand two big chains with shackles on each end.
+
+The doctor gazed at the intruders a moment with incredulity, and then, as
+the enormity of the outrage dawned on him, he flushed and drew himself
+erect, his face livid and rigid.
+
+He clutched his throat with his slender fingers, slowly recovered himself,
+glanced at the shackles in the black hands and then at the young
+Lieutenant's face, and said slowly, with heaving breast:
+
+"My God! Have you been sent to place these irons on me?"
+
+"Such are my orders, sir," replied the officer, motioning to the negro
+smith to approach. He stepped forward, unlocked the padlock, and prepared
+the fetters to be placed on his arms and legs. These fetters were of
+enormous weight, made of iron rods three quarters of an inch thick and
+connected together by chains of like weight.
+
+"This is monstrous!" groaned the doctor, with choking agony, glancing
+helplessly about the bare cell for some weapon with which to defend
+himself.
+
+Suddenly looking the Lieutenant in the face, he said:
+
+"I demand, sir, to see your commanding officer. He cannot pretend that
+these shackles are needed to hold a weak unarmed man in prison, guarded by
+two hundred soldiers?"
+
+"It is useless. I have his orders direct."
+
+"But I must see him. No such outrage has ever been recorded in the history
+of the American people. I appeal to the Magna Charta rights of every man
+who speaks the English tongue--no man shall be arrested or imprisoned or
+deprived of his own household, or of his liberties, unless by the legal
+judgment of his peers or by the law of the land!"
+
+"The bayonet is your only law. My orders admit of no delay. For your own
+sake, I advise you to submit. As a soldier, Dr. Cameron, you know I must
+execute orders."
+
+"These are not the orders of a soldier!" shouted the prisoner, enraged
+beyond all control. "They are orders for a jailer, a hangman, a
+scullion--no soldier who wears the sword of a civilized nation can take
+such orders. The war is over; the South is conquered; I have no country
+save America. For the honour of the flag, for which I once poured out my
+blood on the heights of Buena Vista, I protest against this shame!"
+
+The Lieutenant fell back a moment before the burst of his anger.
+
+"Kill me! Kill me!" he went on passionately, throwing his arms wide open
+and exposing his breast. "Kill--I am in your power. I have no desire to
+live under such conditions. Kill, but you must not inflict on me and on my
+people this insult worse than death!"
+
+"Do your duty, blacksmith," said the officer, turning his back and walking
+toward the door.
+
+The negro advanced with the chains cautiously, and attempted to snap one
+of the shackles on the doctor's right arm.
+
+With sudden maniac frenzy, Dr. Cameron seized the negro by the throat,
+hurled him to the floor, and backed against the wall.
+
+The Lieutenant approached and remonstrated:
+
+"Why compel me to add the indignity of personal violence? You must
+submit."
+
+"I am your prisoner," fiercely retorted the doctor. "I have been a soldier
+in the armies of America, and I know how to die. Kill me, and my last
+breath will be a blessing. But while I have life to resist, for myself and
+for my people, this thing shall not be done!"
+
+The Lieutenant called a sergeant and a file of soldiers, and the sergeant
+stepped forward to seize the prisoner.
+
+Dr. Cameron sprang on him with the ferocity of a tiger, seized his musket,
+and attempted to wrench it from his grasp.
+
+The men closed in on him. A short passionate fight and the slender, proud,
+gray-haired man lay panting on the floor.
+
+Four powerful assailants held his hands and feet, and the negro smith,
+with a grin, secured the rivet on the right ankle and turned the key in
+the padlock on the left.
+
+As he drove the rivet into the shackle on his left arm, a spurt of bruised
+blood from the old Mexican War wound stained the iron.
+
+Dr. Cameron lay for a moment in a stupor. At length he slowly rose. The
+clank of the heavy chains seemed to choke him with horror. He sank on the
+floor, covering his face with his hands and groaned:
+
+"The shame! The shame! O God, that I might have died! My poor, poor
+wife!"
+
+Captain Gilbert entered and said with a sneer:
+
+"I will take you now to see your wife and friends if you would like to
+call before setting out for Columbia."
+
+The doctor paid no attention to him.
+
+"Will you follow me while I lead you through this town, to show them their
+chief has fallen, or will you force me to drag you?"
+
+Receiving no answer, he roughly drew the doctor to his feet, held him by
+the arm, and led him thus in half-unconscious stupor through the principal
+street, followed by a drove of negroes. He ordered a squad of troops to
+meet him at the depot. Not a white man appeared on the streets. When one
+saw the sight and heard the clank of those chains, there was a sudden
+tightening of the lip, a clinched fist, and an averted face.
+
+When they approached the hotel, Mrs. Cameron ran to meet him, her face
+white as death.
+
+In silence she kissed his lips, kissed each shackle on his wrists, took
+her handkerchief and wiped the bruised blood from the old wound on his arm
+the iron had opened afresh, and then with a look, beneath which the
+Captain shrank, she said in low tones:
+
+"Do your work quickly. You have but a few moments to get out of this town
+with your prisoner. I have sent a friend to hold my son. If he comes
+before you go, he will kill you on sight as he would a mad dog."
+
+With a sneer, the Captain passed the hotel and led the doctor, still in
+half-unconscious stupor, toward the depot down past his old slave
+quarters. He had given his negroes who remained faithful each a cabin and
+a lot.
+
+They looked on in awed silence as the Captain proclaimed:
+
+"Fellow citizens, you are the equal of any white man who walks the ground.
+The white man's day is done. Your turn has come."
+
+As he passed Jake's cabin, the doctor's faithful man stepped suddenly in
+front of him, looking at the Captain out of the corners of his eyes, and
+asked:
+
+"Is I yo' equal?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Des lak any white man?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+The negro's fist suddenly shot into Gilbert's nose with the crack of a
+sledge-hammer, laying him stunned on the pavement.
+
+"Den take dat f'um yo' equal, d--n you!" he cried, bending over his
+prostrate figure. "I'll show you how to treat my ole marster, you low-down
+slue-footed devil!"
+
+The stirring little drama roused the doctor and he turned to his servant
+with his old-time courtesy, and said:
+
+"Thank you, Jake."
+
+"Come in here, Marse Richard; I knock dem things off'n you in er minute,
+'en I get you outen dis town in er jiffy."
+
+"No, Jake, that is not my way; bring this gentleman some water, and then
+my horse and buggy. You can take me to the depot. This officer can follow
+with his men." And he did.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+FORTY ACRES AND A MULE
+
+
+When Phil returned with Margaret, he drove at Mrs. Cameron's request to
+find Ben, brought him with all speed to the hotel, took him to his room,
+and locked the door before he told him the news. After an hour's blind
+rage, he agreed to obey his father's positive orders to keep away from the
+Captain until his return, and to attempt no violence against the
+authorities.
+
+Phil undertook to manage the case in Columbia, and spent three days
+collecting his evidence before leaving.
+
+Swifter feet had anticipated him. Two days after the arrival of Dr.
+Cameron at the fort in Colombia, a dust-stained, tired negro was ushered
+into the presence of General Howle.
+
+He looked about timidly and laughed loudly.
+
+"Well, my man, what's the trouble? You seem to have walked all the way,
+and laugh as if you were glad of it."
+
+"I 'spec' I is, sah," said Jake, sidling up confidentially.
+
+"Well?" said Howle good-humouredly.
+
+Jake's voice dropped to a whisper.
+
+"I hears you got my ole marster, Dr. Cameron, in dis place."
+
+"Yes. What do you know against him?"
+
+"Nuttin', sah. I des hurry 'long down ter take his place, so's you can
+sen' him back home. He's erbleeged ter go. Dey's er pow'ful lot er sick
+folks up dar in de country cain't git 'long widout him, an er pow'ful lot
+er well ones gwiner be raisin' de debbel 'bout dis. You can hol' me, sah.
+Des tell my ole marster when ter be yere, en he sho' come."
+
+Jake paused and bowed low.
+
+"Yessah, hit's des lak I tell you. Fuddermo', I 'spec' I'se de man what
+done de damages. I 'spec' I bus' de Capt'n's nose so 'tain gwine be no mo'
+good to 'im."
+
+Howle questioned Jake as to the whole affair, asked him a hundred
+questions about the condition of the county, the position of Dr. Cameron,
+and the possible effect of this event on the temper of the people.
+
+The affair had already given him a bad hour. The news of this shackling of
+one of the most prominent men in the State had spread like wildfire, and
+had caused the first deep growl of anger from the people. He saw that it
+was a senseless piece of stupidity. The election was rapidly approaching.
+He was master of the State, and the less friction the better. His mind was
+made up instantly. He released Dr. Cameron with an apology, and returned
+with him and Jake for a personal inspection of the affairs of Ulster
+county.
+
+In a thirty-minutes' interview with Captain Gilbert, Howle gave him more
+pain than his broken nose.
+
+"And why did you nail up the doors of that Presbyterian church?" he asked
+suavely.
+
+"Because McAlpin, the young cub who preaches there, dared come to this
+camp and insult me about the arrest of old Cameron."
+
+"I suppose you issued an order silencing him from the ministry?"
+
+"I did, and told him I'd shackle him if he opened his mouth again."
+
+"Good. The throne of Russia needn't worry about a worthy successor. Any
+further ecclesiastical orders?"
+
+"None, except the oaths I've prescribed for them before they shall preach
+again."
+
+"Fine! These Scotch Covenanters will feel at home with you."
+
+"Well, I've made them bite the dust--and they know who's runnin' this
+town, and don't you forget it."
+
+"No doubt. Yet we may have too much of even a good thing. The League is
+here to run this country. The business of the military is to keep still
+and back them when they need it."
+
+"We've the strongest council here to be found in any county in this
+section," said Gilbert with pride.
+
+"Just so. The League meets once a week. We have promised them the land of
+their masters and equal social and political rights. Their members go
+armed to these meetings and drill on Saturdays in the public square. The
+white man is afraid to interfere lest his house or barn take fire. A negro
+prisoner in the dock needs only to make the sign to be acquitted. Not a
+negro will dare to vote against us. Their women are formed into societies,
+sworn to leave their husbands and refuse to marry any man who dares our
+anger. The negro churches have pledged themselves to expel him from their
+membership. What more do you want?"
+
+"There's another side to it," protested the Captain. "Since the League has
+taken in the negroes, every Union white man has dropped it like a hot
+iron, except the lone scallawag or carpet-bagger who expects an office. In
+the church, the social circle, in business or pleasure, these men are
+lepers. How can a human being stand it? I've tried to grind this hellish
+spirit in the dirt under my heel, and unless you can do it they'll beat
+you in the long run! You've got to have some Southern white men or you're
+lost."
+
+"I'll risk it with a hundred thousand negro majority," said Howle with a
+sneer. "The fun will just begin then. In the meantime, I'll have you ease
+up on this county's government. I've brought that man back who knocked you
+down. Let him alone. I've pardoned him. The less said about this affair,
+the better."
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+As the day of the election under the new regime of Reconstruction drew
+near, the negroes were excited by rumours of the coming great events.
+Every man was to receive forty acres of land for his vote, and the
+enthusiastic speakers and teachers had made the dream a resistless one by
+declaring that the Government would throw in a mule with the forty acres.
+Some who had hesitated about the forty acres of land, remembering that it
+must be worked, couldn't resist the idea of owning a mule.
+
+The Freedman's Bureau reaped a harvest in $2 marriage fees from negroes
+who were urged thus to make their children heirs of landed estates stocked
+with mules.
+
+Every stranger who appeared in the village was regarded with awe as a
+possible surveyor sent from Washington to run the lines of these
+forty-acre plots.
+
+And in due time the surveyors appeared. Uncle Aleck, who now devoted his
+entire time to organizing the League, and drinking whiskey which the dues
+he collected made easy, was walking back to Piedmont from a League meeting
+in the country, dreaming of this promised land.
+
+He lifted his eyes from the dusty way and saw before him two surveyors
+with their arms full of line stakes painted red, white, and blue. They
+were well-dressed Yankees--he could not be mistaken. Not a doubt disturbed
+his mind. The kingdom of heaven was at hand!
+
+He bowed low and cried:
+
+"Praise de Lawd! De messengers is come! I'se waited long, but I sees 'em
+now wid my own eyes!"
+
+"You can bet your life on that, old pard," said the spokesman of the pair.
+"We go two and two, just as the apostles did in the olden times. We have
+only a few left. The boys are hurrying to get their homes. All you've got
+to do is to drive one of these red, white, and blue stakes down at each
+corner of the forty acres of land you want, and every rebel in the
+infernal regions can't pull it up."
+
+"Hear dat now!"
+
+"Just like I tell you. When this stake goes into the ground, it's like
+planting a thousand cannon at each corner."
+
+"En will the Lawd's messengers come wid me right now to de bend er de
+creek whar I done pick out my forty acres?"
+
+"We will, if you have the needful for the ceremony. The fee for the
+surveyor is small--only two dollars for each stake. We have no time to
+linger with foolish virgins who have no oil in their lamps. The bridegroom
+has come. They who have no oil must remain in outer darkness." The speaker
+had evidently been a preacher in the North, and his sacred accent sealed
+his authority with the old negro, who had been an exhorter himself.
+
+Aleck felt in his pocket the jingle of twenty gold dollars, the initiation
+fees of the week's harvest of the League. He drew them, counted out eight,
+and took his four stakes. The surveyors kindly showed him how to drive
+them down firmly to the first stripe of blue. When they had stepped off a
+square of about forty acres of the Lenoir farm, including the richest
+piece of bottom land on the creek, which Aleck's children under his wife's
+direction were working for Mrs. Lenoir, and the four stakes were planted,
+old Aleck shouted:
+
+"Glory ter God!"
+
+"Now," said the foremost surveyor, "you want a deed--a deed in fee simple
+with the big seal of the Government on it, and you're fixed for life. The
+deed you can take to the courthouse and make the clerk record it."
+
+The man drew from his pocket an official-looking paper, with a red
+circular seal pasted on its face.
+
+Uncle Aleck's eyes danced.
+
+"Is dat de deed?"
+
+"It will be if I write your name on it and describe the land."
+
+"En what's de fee fer dat?"
+
+"Only twelve dollars; you can take it now or wait until we come again.
+There's no particular hurry about this. The wise man, though, leaves
+nothing for to-morrow that he can carry with him to-day."
+
+"I takes de deed right now, gemmen," said Aleck, eagerly counting out the
+remaining twelve dollars. "Fix 'im up for me."
+
+The surveyor squatted in the field and carefully wrote the document.
+
+They went on their way rejoicing, and old Aleck hurried into Piedmont with
+the consciousness of lordship of the soil. He held himself so proudly that
+it seemed to straighten some of the crook out of his bow legs.
+
+He marched up to the hotel where Margaret sat reading and Marion was on
+the steps playing with a setter.
+
+"Why, Uncle Aleck!" Marion exclaimed, "I haven't seen you in a long
+time."
+
+Aleck drew himself to his full height--at least, as full as his bow legs
+would permit, and said gruffly:
+
+"Miss Ma'ian, I axes you to stop callin' me 'uncle'; my name is Mr.
+Alexander Lenoir----"
+
+"Until Aunt Cindy gets after you," laughed the girl. "Then it's much
+shorter than that, Uncle Aleck."
+
+He shuffled his feet and looked out at the square unconcernedly.
+
+"Yaas'm, dat's what fetch me here now. I comes ter tell yer Ma ter tell
+dat 'oman Cindy ter take her chillun off my farm. I gwine 'low no mo'
+rent-payin' ter nobody off'n my lan'!"
+
+"Your land, Uncle Aleck? When did you get it?" asked Marion, placing her
+cheek against the setter.
+
+"De Gubment gim it ter me to-day," he replied, fumbling in his pocket, and
+pulling out the document. "You kin read it all dar yo'sef."
+
+He handed Marion the paper, and Margaret hurried down and read it over her
+shoulder.
+
+Both girls broke into screams of laughter.
+
+Aleck looked up sharply.
+
+"Do you know what's written on this paper, Uncle Aleck?" Margaret asked.
+
+"Cose I do. Dat's de deed ter my farm er forty acres in de land er de
+creek, whar I done stuck off wid de red, white, an' blue sticks de Gubment
+gimme."
+
+"I'll read it to you," said Margaret.
+
+"Wait a minute," interrupted Marion. "I want Aunt Cindy to hear it--she's
+here to see Mamma in the kitchen now."
+
+She ran for Uncle Aleck's spouse. Aunt Cindy walked around the house and
+stood by the steps, eying her erstwhile lord with contempt.
+
+"Got yer deed, is yer, ter stop me payin' my missy her rent fum de lan' my
+chillun wucks? Yu'se er smart boy, you is--let's hear de deed!"
+
+Aleck edged away a little, and said with a bow:
+
+"Dar's de paper wid de big mark er de Gubment."
+
+Aunt Cindy sniffed the air contemptuously.
+
+"What is it, honey?" she asked of Margaret.
+
+Margaret read in mock solemnity the mystic writing on the deed:
+
+  _To Whom It May Concern_:
+
+  As Moses lifted up the brazen serpent in the wilderness for the
+  enlightenment of the people, even so have I lifted twenty shining
+  plunks out of this benighted nigger! Selah!
+
+As Uncle Aleck walked away with Aunt Cindy shouting in derision, "Dar,
+now! Dar, now!" the bow in his legs seemed to have sprung a sharper
+curve.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A WHISPER IN THE CROWD
+
+
+The excitement which preceded the first Reconstruction election in the
+South paralyzed the industries of the country. When demagogues poured down
+from the North and began their raving before crowds of ignorant negroes,
+the plow stopped in the furrow, the hoe was dropped, and the millennium
+was at hand.
+
+Negro tenants, working under contracts issued by the Freedman's Bureau,
+stopped work, and rode their landlords' mules and horses around the
+county, following these orators.
+
+The loss to the cotton crop alone from the abandonment of the growing
+plant was estimated at over $60,000,000.
+
+The one thing that saved the situation from despair was the large grain
+and forage crops of the previous season which thrifty farmers had stored
+in their barns. So important was the barn and its precious contents that
+Dr. Cameron hired Jake to sleep in his.
+
+This immense barn, which was situated at the foot of the hill some two
+hundred yards behind the house, had become a favourite haunt of Marion and
+Hugh. She had made a pet of the beautiful thoroughbred mare which had
+belonged to Ben during the war. Marion went every day to give her an apple
+or lump of sugar, or carry her a bunch of clover. The mare would follow
+her about like a cat.
+
+Another attraction at the barn for them was Becky Sharpe, Ben's setter.
+She came to Marion one morning, wagging her tail, seized her dress and led
+her into an empty stall, where beneath the trough lay sleeping snugly ten
+little white-and-black spotted puppies.
+
+The girl had never seen such a sight before and went into ecstasies. Becky
+wagged her tail with pride at her compliments. Every morning she would
+pull her gently into the stall just to hear her talk and laugh and pet her
+babies.
+
+Whatever election day meant to the men, to Marion it was one of unalloyed
+happiness: she was to ride horseback alone and dance at her first ball.
+Ben had taught her to ride, and told her she could take Queen to Lover's
+Leap and back alone. Trembling with joy, her beautiful face wreathed in
+smiles, she led the mare to the pond in the edge of the lot and watched
+her drink its pure spring water.
+
+When he helped her to mount in front of the hotel under her mother's gaze,
+and saw her ride out of the gate, with the exquisite lines of her little
+figure melting into the graceful lines of the mare's glistening form, he
+exclaimed:
+
+"I declare, I don't know which is the prettier, Marion or Queen!"
+
+"I know," was the mother's soft answer.
+
+"They are both thoroughbreds," said Ben, watching them admiringly.
+
+"Wait till you see her to-night in her first ball dress," whispered Mrs.
+Lenoir.
+
+At noon Ben and Phil strolled to the polling-place to watch the progress
+of the first election under negro rule. The Square was jammed with
+shouting, jostling, perspiring negroes, men, women, and children. The day
+was warm, and the African odour was supreme even in the open air.
+
+A crowd of two hundred were packed around a peddler's box. There were two
+of them--one crying the wares, and the other wrapping and delivering the
+goods. They were selling a new patent poison for rats.
+
+"I've only a few more bottles left now, gentlemen," he shouted, "and the
+polls will close at sundown. A great day for our brother in black. Two
+years of army rations from the Freedman's Bureau, with old army clothes
+thrown in, and now the ballot--the priceless glory of American
+citizenship. But better still the very land is to be taken from these
+proud aristocrats and given to the poor down-trodden black man. Forty
+acres and a mule--think of it! Provided, mind you--that you have a bottle
+of my wonder-worker to kill the rats and save your corn for the mule. No
+man can have the mule unless he has corn; and no man can have corn if he
+has rats--and only a few bottles left----"
+
+"Gimme one," yelled a negro.
+
+"Forty acres and a mule, your old masters to work your land and pay his
+rent in corn, while you sit back in the shade and see him sweat."
+
+"Gimme er bottle and two er dem pictures!" bawled another candidate for a
+mule.
+
+The peddler handed him the bottle and the pictures and threw a handful of
+his labels among the crowd. These labels happened to be just the size of
+the ballots, having on them the picture of a dead rat lying on his back,
+and above, the emblem of death, the crossbones and skull.
+
+"Forty acres and a mule for every black man--why was I ever born white? I
+never had no luck, nohow!"
+
+Phil and Ben passed on nearer the polling-place, around which stood a
+cordon of soldiers with a line of negro voters two hundred yards in length
+extending back into the crowd.
+
+The negro Leagues came in armed battalions and voted in droves, carrying
+their muskets in their hands. Less than a dozen white men were to be seen
+about the place.
+
+The negroes, under the drill of the League and the Freedman's Bureau,
+protected by the bayonet, were voting to enfranchise themselves,
+disfranchise their former masters, ratify a new constitution, and elect a
+legislature to do their will. Old Aleck was a candidate for the House,
+chief poll-holder, and seemed to be in charge of the movements of the
+voters outside the booth as well as inside. He appeared to be omnipresent,
+and his self-importance was a sight Phil had never dreamed. He could not
+keep his eyes off him.
+
+"By George, Cameron, he's a wonder!" he laughed.
+
+Aleck had suppressed as far as possible the story of the painted stakes
+and the deed, after sending out warnings to the brethren to beware of two
+enticing strangers. The surveyors had reaped a rich harvest and passed on.
+Aleck made up his mind to go to Columbia, make the laws himself, and never
+again trust a white man from the North or South. The agent of the
+Freedman's Bureau at Piedmont tried to choke him off the ticket. The
+League backed him to a man. He could neither read nor write, but before he
+took to whiskey he had made a specialty of revival exhortation, and his
+mouth was the most effective thing about him. In this campaign he was an
+orator of no mean powers. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what his
+people wanted, and he put the thing in words so plain that a wayfaring
+man, though a fool, couldn't make any mistake about it.
+
+As he bustled past, forming a battalion of his brethren in line to march
+to the polls, Phil followed his every movement with amused interest.
+
+Besides being so bow-legged that his walk was a moving joke he was so
+striking a negro in his personal appearance, he seemed to the young
+Northerner almost a distinct type of man.
+
+His head was small and seemed mashed on the sides until it bulged into a
+double lobe behind. Even his ears, which he had pierced and hung with red
+earbobs, seemed to have been crushed flat to the side of his head. His
+kinked hair was wrapped in little hard rolls close to the skull and bound
+tightly with dirty thread. His receding forehead was high and indicated a
+cunning intelligence. His nose was broad and crushed flat against his
+face. His jaws were strong and angular, mouth wide, and lips thick,
+curling back from rows of solid teeth set obliquely in their blue gums.
+The one perfect thing about him was the size and setting of his mouth--he
+was a born African orator, undoubtedly descended from a long line of
+savage spell-binders, whose eloquence in the palaver houses of the jungle
+had made them native leaders. His thin spindle-shanks supported an oblong,
+protruding stomach, resembling an elderly monkey's, which seemed so heavy
+it swayed his back to carry it.
+
+The animal vivacity of his small eyes and the flexibility of his eyebrows,
+which he worked up and down rapidly with every change of countenance,
+expressed his eager desires.
+
+He had laid aside his new shoes, which hurt him, and went barefooted to
+facilitate his movements on the great occasion. His heels projected and
+his foot was so flat that what should have been the hollow of it made a
+hole in the dirt where he left his track.
+
+He was already mellow with liquor, and was dressed in an old army uniform
+and cap, with two horse pistols buckled around his waist. On a strap
+hanging from his shoulder were strung a half-dozen tin canteens filled
+with whiskey.
+
+A disturbance in the line of voters caused the young men to move forward
+to see what it meant.
+
+Two negro troopers had pulled Jake out of the line, and were dragging him
+toward old Aleck.
+
+The election judge straightened himself up with great dignity:
+
+"What wuz de rapscallion doin'?"
+
+"In de line, tryin' ter vote."
+
+"Fetch 'im befo' de judgment bar," said Aleck, taking a drink from one of
+his canteens.
+
+The troopers brought Jake before the judge.
+
+"Tryin' ter vote, is yer?"
+
+"'Lowed I would."
+
+"You hear 'bout de great sassieties de Gubment's fomentin' in dis
+country?"
+
+"Yas, I hear erbout 'em."
+
+"Is yer er member er de Union League?"
+
+"Na-sah. I'd rudder steal by myself. I doan' lak too many in de party!"
+
+"En yer ain't er No'f Ca'liny gemmen, is yer--yer ain't er member er de
+'Red Strings?'"
+
+"Na-sah, I come when I'se called--dey doan' hatter put er string on
+me--ner er block, ner er collar, ner er chain, ner er muzzle----"
+
+"Will yer 'splain ter dis cote----" railed Aleck.
+
+"What cote? Dat ole army cote?" Jake laughed in loud peals that rang over
+the square.
+
+Aleck recovered his dignity and demanded angrily:
+
+"Does yer belong ter de Heroes ob Americky?"
+
+"Na-sah. I ain't burnt nobody's house ner barn yet, ner hamstrung no
+stock, ner waylaid nobody atter night--honey, I ain't fit ter jine. Heroes
+ob Americky! Is you er hero?"
+
+"Ef yer doan' b'long ter no s'iety," said Aleck with judicial
+deliberation, "what is you?"
+
+"Des er ole-fashun all-wool-en-er-yard-wide nigger dat stan's by his ole
+marster 'cause he's his bes' frien', stays at home, en tends ter his own
+business."
+
+"En yer pay no 'tenshun ter de orders I sent yer ter jine de League?"
+
+"Na-sah. I ain't er takin' orders f'um er skeer-crow."
+
+Aleck ignored his insolence, secure in his power.
+
+"You doan b'long ter no s'iety, what yer git in dat line ter vote for?"
+
+"Ain't I er nigger?"
+
+"But yer ain't de right kin' er nigger. 'Res' dat man fer 'sturbin' de
+peace."
+
+They put Jake in jail, persuaded his wife to leave him, and expelled him
+from the Baptist church, all within the week.
+
+As the troopers led Jake to prison, a young negro apparently about fifteen
+years old approached Aleck, holding in his hand one of the peddler's rat
+labels, which had gotten well distributed among the crowd. A group of
+negro boys followed him with these rat labels in their hands, studying
+them intently.
+
+"Look at dis ticket, Uncle Aleck," said the leader.
+
+"Mr. Alexander Lenoir, sah--is I yo' uncle, nigger?"
+
+The youth walled his eyes angrily.
+
+"Den doan' you call me er nigger!"
+
+"Who' yer talkin to, sah? You kin fling yer sass at white folks, but,
+honey, yuse er projeckin' wid death now!"
+
+"I ain't er nigger--I'se er gemman, I is," was the sullen answer.
+
+"How ole is you?" asked Aleck in milder tones.
+
+"Me mudder say sixteen--but de Buro man say I'se twenty-one yistiddy, de
+day 'fo' 'lection."
+
+"Is you voted to-day?"
+
+"Yessah; vote in all de boxes 'cept'n dis one. Look at dat ticket. Is dat
+de straight ticket?"
+
+Aleck, who couldn't read the twelve-inch letters of his favourite bar-room
+sign, took the rat label and examined it critically.
+
+"What ail it?" he asked at length.
+
+The boy pointed at the picture of the rat.
+
+"What dat rat doin', lyin' dar on his back, wid his heels cocked up in de
+air--'pear ter me lak a rat otter be standin' on his feet!"
+
+Aleck reexamined it carefully, and then smiled benignly on the youth.
+
+"De ignance er dese folks. What ud yer do widout er man lak me enjued wid
+de sperit en de power ter splain tings?"
+
+"You sho' got de sperits," said the boy impudently, touching a canteen.
+
+Aleck ignored the remark and looked at the rat label smilingly.
+
+"Ain't we er votin', ter-day, on de Constertooshun what's ter take de
+ballot away f'um de white folks en gib all de power ter de cullud
+gemmen--I axes yer dat?"
+
+The boy stuck his thumbs under his arms and walled his eyes.
+
+"Yessah!"
+
+"Den dat means de ratification ob de Constertooshun!"
+
+Phil laughed, followed, and watched them fold their tickets, get in line,
+and vote the rat labels.
+
+Ben turned toward a white man with gray beard, who stood watching the
+crowd.
+
+He was a pious member of the Presbyterian church but his face didn't have
+a pious expression to-day. He had been refused the right to vote because
+he had aided the Confederacy by nursing one of his wounded boys.
+
+He touched his hat politely to Ben.
+
+"What do you think of it, Colonel Cameron?" he asked with a touch of
+scorn.
+
+"What's your opinion, Mr. McAllister?"
+
+"Well, Colonel, I've been a member of the church for over forty years. I'm
+not a cussin' man--but there's a sight I never expected to live to see.
+I've been a faithful citizen of this State for fifty years. I can't vote,
+and a nigger is to be elected to-day to represent me in the Legislature.
+Neither you, Colonel, nor your father are good enough to vote. Every
+nigger in this county sixteen years old and up voted to-day--I ain't a
+cussing man, and I don't say it as a cuss word, but all I've got to say
+is, IF there BE such a thing as a d--d shame--that's it!"
+
+"Mr. McAllister, the recording angel wouldn't have made a mark had you
+said it without the 'IF.'"
+
+"God knows what this country's coming to--I don't," said the old man
+bitterly. "I'm afraid to let my wife and daughter go out of the house, or
+stay in it, without somebody with them."
+
+Ben leaned closer and whispered, as Phil approached:
+
+"Come to my office to-night at ten o'clock; I want to see you on some
+important business."
+
+The old man seized his hand eagerly.
+
+"Shall I bring the boys?"
+
+Ben smiled.
+
+"No. I've seen them some time ago."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+BY THE LIGHT OF A TORCH
+
+
+On the night of the election Mrs. Lenoir gave a ball at the hotel in
+honour of Marion's entrance into society. She was only in her sixteenth
+year, yet older than her mother when mistress of her own household. The
+only ambition the mother cherished was that she might win the love of an
+honest man and build for herself a beautiful home on the site of the
+cottage covered with trailing roses. In this home dream for Marion she
+found a great sustaining joy to which nothing in the life of man answers.
+
+The ball had its political significance which the military martinet who
+commanded the post understood. It was the way the people of Piedmont
+expressed to him and the world their contempt for the farce of an election
+he had conducted, and their indifference as to the result he would
+celebrate with many guns before midnight.
+
+The young people of the town were out in force. Marion was a universal
+favourite. The grace, charm, and tender beauty of the Southern girl of
+sixteen were combined in her with a gentle and unselfish disposition. Amid
+poverty that was pitiful, unconscious of its limitations, her thoughts
+were always of others, and she was the one human being everybody had
+agreed to love. In the village in which she lived wealth counted for
+naught. She belonged to the aristocracy of poetry, beauty, and intrinsic
+worth, and her people knew no other.
+
+As she stood in the long dining-room, dressed in her first ball costume of
+white organdy and lace, the little plump shoulders peeping through its
+meshes, she was the picture of happiness. A half-dozen boys hung on every
+word as the utterance of an oracle. She waved gently an old ivory fan with
+white down on its edges in a way the charm of which is the secret
+birthright of every Southern girl.
+
+Now and then she glanced at the door for some one who had not yet
+appeared.
+
+Phil paid his tribute to her with genuine feeling, and Marion repaid him
+by whispering:
+
+"Margaret's dressed to kill--all in soft azure blue--her rosy cheeks,
+black hair, and eyes never shone as they do to-night. She doesn't dance on
+account of her Sunday-school--it's all for you."
+
+Phil blushed and smiled.
+
+"The preacher won't be here?"
+
+"Our rector will."
+
+"He's a nice old gentleman. I'm fond of him. Miss Marion, your mother is a
+genius. I hope she can plan these little affairs oftener."
+
+It was half-past ten o'clock when Ben Cameron entered the room with Elsie
+a little ruffled at his delay over imaginary business at his office. Ben
+answered her criticisms with a strange elation. She had felt a secret
+between them and resented it.
+
+At Mrs. Lenoir's special request, he had put on his full uniform of a
+Confederate Colonel in honour of Marion and the poem her father had
+written of one of his gallant charges. He had not worn it since he fell
+that day in Phil's arms.
+
+No one in the room had ever seen him in this Colonel's uniform. Its yellow
+sash with the gold fringe and tassels was faded and there were two bullet
+holes in the coat. A murmur of applause from the boys, sighs and
+exclamations from the girls swept the room as he took Marion's hand, bowed
+and kissed it. Her blue eyes danced and smiled on him with frank
+admiration.
+
+"Ben, you're the handsomest thing I've ever seen!" she said softly.
+
+"Thanks. I thought you had a mirror. I'll send you one," he answered,
+slipping his arm around her and gliding away to the strains of a waltz.
+The girl's hand trembled as she placed it on his shoulder, her cheeks were
+flushed, and her eyes had a wistful dreamy look in their depths.
+
+When Ben rejoined Elsie and they strolled on the lawn, the military
+commandant suddenly confronted them with a squad of soldiers.
+
+"I'll trouble you for those buttons and shoulder straps," said the
+Captain.
+
+Elsie's amber eyes began to spit fire. Ben stood still and smiled.
+
+"What do you mean?" she asked.
+
+"That I will not be insulted by the wearing of this uniform to-day."
+
+"I dare you to touch it, coward, poltroon!" cried the girl, her plump
+little figure bristling in front of her lover.
+
+Ben laid his hand on her arm and gently drew her back to his side: "He has
+the power to do this. It is a technical violation of law to wear them. I
+have surrendered. I am a gentleman and I have been a soldier. He can have
+his tribute. I've promised my father to offer no violence to the military
+authority of the United States."
+
+He stepped forward, and the officer cut the buttons from his coat and
+ripped the straps from his shoulders.
+
+While the performance was going on, Ben quietly said:
+
+"General Grant at Appomattox, with the instincts of a great soldier, gave
+our men his spare horses and ordered that Confederate officers retain
+their side-arms. The General is evidently not in touch with this force."
+
+"No: I'm in command in this county," said the Captain.
+
+"Evidently."
+
+When he had gone, Elsie's eyes were dim. They strolled under the shadow of
+the great oak and stood in silence, listening to the music within and the
+distant murmur of the falls.
+
+"Why is it, sweetheart, that a girl will persist in admiring brass
+buttons?" Ben asked softly.
+
+She raised her lips to his for a kiss and answered:
+
+"Because a soldier's business is to die for his country."
+
+As Ben led her back into the ballroom and surrendered her to a friend for
+a dance, the first gun pealed its note of victory from the square in the
+celebration of the triumph of the African slave over his white master.
+
+Ben strolled out in the street to hear the news.
+
+The Constitution had been ratified by an enormous majority, and a
+Legislature elected composed of 101 negroes and 23 white men. Silas Lynch
+had been elected Lieutenant-Governor, a negro Secretary of State, a negro
+Treasurer, and a negro Justice of the Supreme Court.
+
+When Bizzel, the wizzen-faced agent of the Freedman's Bureau, made this
+announcement from the courthouse steps, pandemonium broke lose. An
+incessant rattle of musketry began in which ball cartridges were used, the
+missiles whistling over the town in every direction. Yet within half an
+hour the square was deserted and a strange quiet followed the storm.
+
+Old Aleck staggered by the hotel, his drunkenness having reached the
+religious stage.
+
+"Behold, a curiosity, gentlemen," cried Ben to a group of boys who had
+gathered, "a voter is come among us--in fact, he is the people, the king,
+our representative elect, the Honourable Alexander Lenoir, of the county
+of Ulster!"
+
+"Gemmens, de Lawd's bin good ter me," said Aleck, weeping copiously.
+
+"They say the rat labels were in a majority in this precinct--how was
+that?" asked Ben.
+
+"Yessah--dat what de scornful say--dem dat sets in de seat o' de scornful,
+but de Lawd er Hosts He fetch 'em low. Mistah Bissel de Buro man count all
+dem rat votes right, sah--dey couldn't fool him--he know what dey mean--he
+count 'em all for me an' de ratification."
+
+"Sure-pop!" said Ben; "if you can't ratify with a rat, I'd like to know
+why?"
+
+"Dat's what I tells 'em, sah."
+
+"Of course," said Ben good-humouredly. "The voice of the people is the
+voice of God--rats or no rats--if you know how to count."
+
+As old Aleck staggered away, the sudden crash of a volley of musketry
+echoed in the distance.
+
+"What's that?" asked Ben, listening intently. The sound was unmistakable
+to a soldier's ear--that volley from a hundred rifles at a single word of
+command. It was followed by a shot on a hill in the distance, and then by
+a faint echo, farther still. Ben listened a few moments and turned into
+the lawn of the hotel. The music suddenly stopped, the tramp of feet
+echoed on the porch, a woman screamed, and from the rear of the house came
+the cry:
+
+"Fire! Fire!"
+
+Almost at the same moment an immense sheet of flame shot skyward from the
+big barn.
+
+"My God!" groaned Ben. "Jake's in jail to-night, and they've set the barn
+on fire. It's worth more than the house."
+
+The crowd rushed down the hill to the blazing building, Marion's fleet
+figure in its flying white dress leading the crowd.
+
+The lowing of the cows and the wild neighing of the horses rang above the
+roar of the flames.
+
+Before Ben could reach the spot Marion had opened every stall. Two cows
+leaped out to safety, but not a horse would move from its stall, and each
+moment wilder and more pitiful grew their death cries.
+
+Marion rushed to Ben, her eyes dilated, her face as white as the dress she
+wore.
+
+"Oh, Ben, Queen won't come out! What shall I do?"
+
+"You can do nothing, child. A horse won't come out of a burning stable
+unless he's blindfolded. They'll all be burned to death."
+
+"Oh! no!" the girl cried in agony.
+
+"They'd trample you to death if you tried to get them out. It can't be
+helped. It's too late."
+
+As Ben looked back at the gathering crowd, Marion suddenly snatched a
+horse blanket, lying at the door, ran with the speed of a deer to the
+pond, plunged in, sprang out, and sped back to the open door of Queen's
+stall, through which her shrill cry could be heard above the others.
+
+As the girl ran toward the burning building, her thin white dress clinging
+close to her exquisite form, she looked like the marble figure of a sylph
+by the hand of some great master into which God had suddenly breathed the
+breath of life.
+
+As they saw her purpose, a cry of horror rose from the crowd, her mother's
+scream loud above the rest.
+
+Ben rushed to catch her, shouting:
+
+"Marion! Marion! She'll trample you to death!"
+
+He was too late. She leaped into the stall. The crowd held their breath.
+There was a moment of awful suspense, and the mare sprang through the open
+door with the little white figure clinging to her mane and holding the
+blanket over her head.
+
+A cheer rang above the roar of the flames. The girl did not loose her hold
+until her beautiful pet was led to a place of safety, while she clung to
+her neck and laughed and cried for joy. First her mother, then Margaret,
+Mrs. Cameron, and Elsie took her in their arms.
+
+As Ben approached the group, Elsie whispered to him: "Kiss her!"
+
+Ben took her hand, his eyes full of unshed tears, and said:
+
+"The bravest deed a woman ever did--you're a heroine, Marion!"
+
+Before she knew it he stooped and kissed her.
+
+She was very still for a moment, smiled, trembled from head to foot,
+blushed scarlet, took her mother by the hand, and without a word hurried
+to the house.
+
+Poor Becky was whining among the excited crowd and sought in vain for
+Marion. At last she got Margaret's attention, caught her dress in her
+teeth and led her to a corner of the lot, where she had laid side by side
+her puppies, smothered to death. She stood and looked at them with her
+tail drooping, the picture of despair. Margaret burst into tears and
+called Ben.
+
+He bent and put his arm around the setter's neck and stroked her head with
+his hand. Looking at up his sister, he said:
+
+"Don't tell Marion of this. She can't stand any more to-night."
+
+The crowd had all dispersed, and the flames had died down for want of
+fuel. The odour of roasting flesh, pungent and acrid, still lingered a
+sharp reminder of the tragedy.
+
+Ben stood on the back porch, talking in low tones to his father.
+
+"Will you join us now, sir? We need the name and influence of men of your
+standing."
+
+"My boy, two wrongs never made a right. It's better to endure awhile. The
+sober commonsense of the Nation will yet save us. We must appeal to it."
+
+"Eight more fires were seen from town to-night."
+
+"You only guess their origin."
+
+"I know their origin. It was done by the League at a signal as a
+celebration of the election and a threat of terror to the county. One of
+our men concealed a faithful negro under the floor of the school-house and
+heard the plot hatched. We expected it a month ago--but hoped they had
+given it up."
+
+"Even so, my boy, a secret society such as you have planned means a
+conspiracy that may bring exile or death. I hate lawlessness and disorder.
+We have had enough of it. Your clan means ultimately martial law. At least
+we will get rid of these soldiers by this election. They have done their
+worst to me, but we may save others by patience."
+
+"It's the only way, sir. The next step will be a black hand on a white
+woman's throat!"
+
+The doctor frowned. "Let us hope for the best. Your clan is the last act
+of desperation."
+
+"But if everything else fail, and this creeping horror becomes a
+fact--then what?"
+
+"My boy, we will pray that God may never let us live to see the day!"
+
+[Illustration: THE BLACK MASTERS OF THE SOUTH DURING RECONSTRUCTION.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE RIOT IN THE MASTER'S HALL
+
+
+Alarmed at the possible growth of the secret clan into which Ben had urged
+him to enter, Dr. Cameron determined to press for relief from oppression
+by an open appeal to the conscience of the Nation.
+
+He called a meeting of conservative leaders in a Taxpayers' Convention at
+Columbia. His position as leader had been made supreme by the indignities
+he had suffered, and he felt sure of his ability to accomplish results.
+Every county in the State was represented by its best men in this
+gathering at the Capitol.
+
+The day he undertook to present his memorial to the Legislature was one he
+never forgot. The streets were crowded with negroes who had come to town
+to hear Lynch, the Lieutenant-Governor, speak in a mass-meeting. Negro
+policemen swung their clubs in his face as he pressed through the insolent
+throng up the street to the stately marble Capitol. At the door a black,
+greasy trooper stopped him to parley. Every decently dressed white man was
+regarded a spy.
+
+As he passed inside the doors of the House of Representatives the rush of
+foul air staggered him. The reek of vile cigars and stale whiskey, mingled
+with the odour of perspiring negroes, was overwhelming. He paused and
+gasped for breath.
+
+The space behind the seats of the members was strewn with corks, broken
+glass, stale crusts, greasy pieces of paper, and picked bones. The hall
+was packed with negroes, smoking, chewing, jabbering, pushing,
+perspiring.
+
+A carpet-bagger at his elbow was explaining to an old darkey from down
+east why his forty acres and a mule hadn't come.
+
+On the other side of him a big negro bawled:
+
+"Dat's all right! De cullud man on top!"
+
+The doctor surveyed the hall in dismay. At first not a white member was
+visible. The galleries were packed with negroes. The Speaker presiding was
+a negro, the Clerk a negro, the doorkeepers negroes, the little pages all
+coal-black negroes, the Chaplain a negro. The negro party consisted of one
+hundred and one--ninety-four blacks and seven scallawags, who claimed to
+be white. The remains of Aryan civilization were represented by
+twenty-three white men from the Scotch-Irish hill counties.
+
+The doctor had served three terms as the member from Ulster in this hall
+in the old days, and its appearance now was beyond any conceivable depth
+of degradation.
+
+The ninety-four Africans, constituting almost its solid membership, were a
+motley crew. Every negro type was there, from the genteel butler to the
+clodhopper from the cotton and rice fields. Some had on second-hand seedy
+frock-coats their old master had given them before the war, glossy and
+threadbare. Old stovepipe hats, of every style in vogue since Noah came
+out of the ark, were placed conspicuously on the desks or cocked on the
+backs of the heads of the honourable members. Some wore the coarse clothes
+of the field, stained with red mud.
+
+Old Aleck, he noted, had a red woollen comforter wound round his neck in
+place of a shirt or collar. He had tried to go barefooted, but the Speaker
+had issued a rule that members should come shod. He was easing his feet by
+placing his brogans under the desk, wearing only his red socks.
+
+Each member had his name painted in enormous gold letters on his desk, and
+had placed beside it a sixty-dollar French imported spittoon. Even the
+Congress of the United States, under the inspiration of Oakes Ames and
+Speaker Colfax, could only afford one of domestic make, which cost a
+dollar.
+
+The uproar was deafening. From four to six negroes were trying to speak at
+the same time. Aleck's majestic mouth with blue gums and projecting teeth
+led the chorus as he ambled down the aisle, his bow-legs flying their
+red-sock ensigns.
+
+The Speaker singled him out--his voice was something which simply could
+not be ignored--rapped and yelled:
+
+"De gemman from Ulster set down!"
+
+Aleck turned crestfallen and resumed his seat, throwing his big flat feet
+in their red woollens up on his desk and hiding his face behind their
+enormous spread.
+
+He had barely settled in his chair before a new idea flashed through his
+head and up he jumped again:
+
+"Mistah Speaker!" he bawled.
+
+"Orda da!" yelled another.
+
+"Knock 'im in de head!"
+
+"Seddown, nigger!"
+
+The Speaker pointed his gavel at Aleck and threatened him laughingly:
+
+"Ef de gemman from Ulster doan set down I gwine call 'im ter orda!"
+
+Uncle Aleck greeted this threat with a wild guffaw, which the whole House
+about him joined in heartily. They laughed like so many hens
+cackling--when one started the others would follow.
+
+The most of them were munching peanuts, and the crush of hulls under heavy
+feet added a subnote to the confusion like the crackle of a prairie fire.
+
+The ambition of each negro seemed to be to speak at least a half-dozen
+times on each question, saying the same thing every time.
+
+No man was allowed to talk five minutes without an interruption which
+brought on another and another until the speaker was drowned in a storm of
+contending yells. Their struggles to get the floor with bawlings,
+bellowings, and contortions, and the senseless rap of the Speaker's gavel,
+were something appalling.
+
+On this scene, through fetid smoke and animal roar, looked down from the
+walls, in marble bas-relief, the still white faces of Robert Hayne and
+George McDuffie, through whose veins flowed the blood of Scottish kings,
+while over it brooded in solemn wonder the face of John Laurens, whose
+diplomatic genius at the court of France won millions of gold for our
+tottering cause, and sent a French fleet and army into the Chesapeake to
+entrap Cornwallis at Yorktown.
+
+The little group of twenty-three white men, the descendants of these
+spirits, to whom Dr. Cameron had brought his memorial, presented a
+pathetic spectacle. Most of them were old men, who sat in grim silence
+with nothing to do or say as they watched the rising black tide, their
+dignity, reserve, and decorum at once the wonder and the shame of the
+modern world.
+
+At least they knew that the minstrel farce being enacted on that floor was
+a tragedy as deep and dark as was ever woven of the blood and tears of a
+conquered people. Beneath those loud guffaws they could hear the death
+rattle in the throat of their beloved State, barbarism strangling
+civilization by brute force.
+
+For all the stupid uproar, the black leaders of this mob knew what they
+wanted. One of them was speaking now, the leader of the House, the
+Honourable Napoleon Whipper.
+
+Dr. Cameron had taken his seat in the little group of white members in one
+corner of the chamber, beside an old friend from an adjoining county whom
+he had known in better days.
+
+"Now listen," said his friend. "When Whipper talks he always says
+something."
+
+"Mr. Speaker, I move you, sir, in view of the arduous duties which our
+presiding officer has performed this week for the State, that he be
+allowed one thousand dollars extra pay."
+
+The motion was put without debate and carried.
+
+The Speaker then called Whipper to the Chair and made the same motion, to
+give the Leader of the House an extra thousand dollars for the performance
+of his heavy duties.
+
+It was carried.
+
+"What does that mean?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Very simple; Whipper and the Speaker adjourned the House yesterday
+afternoon to attend a horse race. They lost a thousand dollars each
+betting on the wrong horse. They are recuperating after the strain. They
+are booked for judges of the Supreme Court when they finish this job. The
+negro mass-meeting to-night is to indorse their names for the Supreme
+Bench."
+
+"Is it possible!" the doctor exclaimed.
+
+When Whipper resumed his place at his desk, the introduction of bills
+began. One after another were sent to the Speaker's desk, a measure to
+disarm the whites and equip with modern rifles a negro militia of 80,000
+men; to make the uniform of Confederate gray the garb of convicts in South
+Carolina, with a sign of the rank to signify the degree of crime; to
+prevent any person calling another a "nigger"; to require men to remove
+their hats in the presence of all officers, civil or military, and all
+disfranchised men to remove their hats in the presence of voters; to force
+black and whites to attend the same schools and open the State University
+to negroes; to permit the intermarriage of whites and blacks; and to
+inforce social equality.
+
+Whipper made a brief speech on the last measure:
+
+"Before I am through, I mean that it shall be known that Napoleon Whipper
+is as good as any man in South Carolina. Don't tell me that I am not on an
+equality with any man God ever made."
+
+Dr. Cameron turned pale, and trembling with excitement, asked his friend:
+
+"Can that man pass such measures, and the Governor sign them?"
+
+"He can pass anything he wishes. The Governor is his creature--a dirty
+little scallawag who tore the Union flag from Fort Sumter, trampled it in
+the dust, and helped raise the flag of Confederacy over it. Now he is
+backed by the Government at Washington. He won his election by dancing at
+negro balls and the purchase of delegates. His salary as Governor is
+$3,500 a year, and he spends over $40,000. Comment is unnecessary. This
+Legislature has stolen millions of dollars, and already bankrupted the
+treasury. The day Howle was elected to the Senate of the United States
+every negro on the floor had his roll of bills and some of them counted it
+out on their desks. In your day the annual cost of the State government
+was $400,000. This year it is $2,000,000. These thieves steal daily. They
+don't deny it. They simply dare you to prove it. The writing paper on the
+desks cost $16,000. These clocks on the wall $600 each, and every little
+Radical newspaper in the State has been subsidized in sums varying from
+$1,000 to $7,000. Each member is allowed to draw for mileage, per diem,
+and 'sundries.' God only knows what the bill for 'sundries' will aggregate
+by the end of the session."
+
+"I couldn't conceive of this!" exclaimed the doctor.
+
+"I've only given you a hint. We are a conquered race. The iron hand of
+Fate is on us. We can only wait for the shadows to deepen into night.
+President Grant appears to be a babe in the woods. Schuyler Colfax, the
+Vice-president, and Belknap, the Secretary of War, are in the saddle in
+Washington. I hear things are happening there that are quite interesting.
+Besides, Congress now can give little relief. The real lawmaking power in
+America is the State Legislature. The State lawmaker enters into the holy
+of holies of our daily life. Once more we are a sovereign State--a
+sovereign negro State."
+
+"I fear my mission is futile," said the doctor.
+
+"It's ridiculous--I'll call for you to-night and take you to hear Lynch,
+our Lieutenant-Governor. He is a remarkable man. Our negro Supreme Court
+Judge will preside--"
+
+Uncle Aleck, who had suddenly spied Dr. Cameron, broke in with a laughing
+welcome:
+
+"I 'clar ter goodness, Dr. Cammun, I didn't know you wuz here, sah. I sho'
+glad ter see you. I axes yer ter come across de street ter my room; I got
+sumfin' pow'ful pertickler ter say ter you."
+
+The doctor followed Aleck out of the hall and across the street to his
+room in a little boarding-house. His door was locked, and the windows
+darkened by blinds. Instead of opening the blinds he lighted a lamp.
+
+"Ob cose, Dr. Cammun, you say nuffin 'bout what I gwine tell you?"
+
+"Certainly not, Aleck."
+
+The room was full of drygoods boxes. The space under the bed was packed,
+and they were piled to the ceiling around the walls.
+
+"Why, what's all this, Aleck?"
+
+The member from Ulster chuckled:
+
+"Dr. Cammun, yu'se been er pow'ful frien' ter me--gimme medicine lots er
+times, en I hain't nebber paid you nuttin'. I'se sho' come inter de
+kingdom now, en I wants ter pay my respects ter you, sah. Des look ober
+dat paper, en mark what you wants, en I hab 'em sont home fur you."
+
+The member from Ulster handed his physician a printed list of more than
+five hundred articles of merchandise. The doctor read it over with
+amazement.
+
+"I don't understand it, Aleck. Do you own a store?"
+
+"Na-sah, but we git all we wants fum mos' eny ob 'em. Dem's 'sundries,'
+sah, dat de Gubment gibs de members. We des orda what we needs. No trouble
+'tall, sah. De men what got de goods come roun' en beg us ter take 'em."
+
+The doctor smiled in spite of the tragedy back of the joke.
+
+"Let's see some of the goods, Aleck--are they first class?"
+
+"Yessah; de bes' goin'. I show you."
+
+He pulled out a number of boxes and bundles, exhibiting carpets, door
+mats, hassocks, dog collars, cow bells, oilcloths, velvets, mosquito nets,
+damask, Irish linen, billiard outfits, towels, blankets, flannels, quilts,
+women's hoods, hats, ribbons, pins, needles, scissors, dumb bells, skates,
+crape skirt braids, tooth brushes, face powder, hooks and eyes, skirts,
+bustles, chignons, garters, artificial busts, chemises, parasols, watches,
+jewellery, diamond earrings, ivory-handled knives and forks, pistols and
+guns, and a Webster's Dictionary.
+
+"Got lots mo' in dem boxes nailed up dar--yessah, hit's no use er lettin'
+good tings go by yer when you kin des put out yer han' en stop 'em! Some
+er de members ordered horses en carriages, but I tuk er par er fine mules
+wid harness en two buggies an er wagin. Dey 'roun at de libry stable,
+sah."
+
+The doctor thanked Aleck for his friendly feeling, but told him it was, of
+course, impossible for him at this time, being only a taxpayer and neither
+a voter nor a member of the Legislature, to share in his supply of
+"sundries."
+
+He went to the warehouse that night with his friend to hear Lynch,
+wondering if his mind were capable of receiving another shock.
+
+This meeting had been called to indorse the candidacy, for Justice of the
+Supreme Court, of Napoleon Whipper, the Leader of the House, the notorious
+negro thief and gambler, and of William Pitt Moses, an ex-convict, his
+confederate in crime. They had been unanimously chosen for the positions
+by a secret caucus of the ninety-four negro members of the House. This
+addition to the Court, with the negro already a member, would give a
+majority to the black man on the last Tribunal of Appeal.
+
+The few white men of the party who had any sense of decency were in open
+revolt at this atrocity. But their influence was on the wane. The
+carpet-bagger shaped the first Convention and got the first plums of
+office. Now the negro was in the saddle, and he meant to stay. There were
+not enough white men in the Legislature to force a roll-call on a division
+of the House. This meeting was an open defiance of all pale-faces inside
+or outside party lines.
+
+Every inch of space in the big cotton warehouse was jammed--a black living
+cloud, pungent and piercing.
+
+The distinguished Lieutenant-Governor, Silas Lynch, had not yet arrived,
+but the negro Justice of the Supreme Court, Pinchback, was in his seat as
+the presiding officer.
+
+Dr. Cameron watched the movements of the black judge, already notorious
+for the sale of his opinions, with a sense of sickening horror. This man
+was but yesterday a slave, his father a medicine man in an African jungle
+who decided the guilt or innocence of the accused by the test of
+administering poison. If the poison killed the man, he was guilty; if he
+survived, he was innocent. For four thousand years his land had stood a
+solid bulwark of unbroken barbarism. Out of its darkness he had been
+thrust upon the seat of judgment of the laws of the proudest and highest
+type of man evolved in time. It seemed a hideous dream.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by a shout. It came spontaneous and
+tremendous in its genuine feeling. The magnificent figure of Lynch, their
+idol, appeared walking down the aisle escorted by the little scallawag who
+was the Governor.
+
+He took his seat on the platform with the easy assurance of conscious
+power. His broad shoulders, superb head, and gleaming jungle eyes held
+every man in the audience before he had spoken a word.
+
+In the first masterful tones of his voice the doctor's keen intelligence
+caught the ring of his savage metal and felt the shock of his powerful
+personality--a personality which had thrown to the winds every mask, whose
+sole aim of life was sensual, whose only fears were of physical pain and
+death, who could worship a snake and sacrifice a human being.
+
+His playful introduction showed him a child of Mystery, moved by Voices
+and inspired by a Fetish. His face was full of good humour, and his whole
+figure rippled with sleek animal vivacity. For the moment, life was a
+comedy and a masquerade teeming with whims, fancies, ecstasies and
+superstitions.
+
+He held the surging crowd in the hollow of his hand. They yelled, laughed,
+howled, or wept as he willed.
+
+Now he painted in burning words the imaginary horrors of slavery until the
+tears rolled down his cheeks and he wept at the sound of his own voice.
+Every dusky hearer burst into tears and moans.
+
+He stopped, suddenly brushed the tears from his eyes, sprang to the edge
+of the platform, threw both arms above his head and shouted:
+
+"Hosannah to the Lord God Almighty for Emancipation!"
+
+Instantly five thousand negroes, as one man, were on their feet, shouting
+and screaming. Their shouts rose in unison, swelled into a thunder peal,
+and died away as one voice.
+
+Dead silence followed, and every eye was again riveted on Lynch. For two
+hours the doctor sat transfixed, listening and watching him sway the vast
+audience with hypnotic power.
+
+There was not one note of hesitation or of doubt. It was the challenge of
+race against race to mortal combat. His closing words again swept every
+negro from his seat and melted every voice into a single frenzied shout:
+
+"Within five years," he cried, "the intelligence and the wealth of this
+mighty State will be transferred to the negro race. Lift up your heads.
+The world is yours. Take it. Here and now I serve notice on every white
+man who breathes that I am as good as he is. I demand, and I am going to
+have, the privilege of going to see him in his house or his hotel, eating
+with him and sleeping with him, and when I see fit, to take his daughter
+in marriage!"
+
+As the doctor emerged from the stifling crowd with his friend, he drew a
+deep breath of fresh air, took from his pocket his conservative memorial,
+picked it into little bits, and scattered them along the street as he
+walked in silence back to his hotel.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+AT LOVER'S LEAP
+
+
+In spite of the pitiful collapse of old Stoneman under his stroke of
+paralysis, his children still saw the unconquered soul shining in his
+colourless eyes. They had both been on the point of confessing their love
+affairs to him and joining in the inevitable struggle when he was
+stricken. They knew only too well that he would not consent to a dual
+alliance with the Camerons under the conditions of fierce hatreds and
+violence into which the State had drifted. They were too high-minded to
+consider a violation of his wishes while thus helpless, with his strange
+eyes following them about in childlike eagerness. His weakness was
+mightier than his iron will.
+
+So, for eighteen months, while he slowly groped out of mental twilight,
+each had waited--Elsie with a tender faith struggling with despair, and
+Phil in a torture of uncertainty and fear.
+
+In the meantime, the young Northerner had become as radical in his
+sympathies with the Southern people as his father had ever been against
+them. This power of assimilation has always been a mark of Southern
+genius. The sight of the Black Hand on their throats now roused his
+righteous indignation. The patience with which they endured was to him
+amazing. The Southerner he had found to be the last man on earth to become
+a revolutionist. All his traits were against it. His genius for command,
+the deep sense of duty and honour, his hospitality, his deathless love of
+home, his supreme constancy and sense of civic unity, all combined to make
+him ultraconservative. He began now to see that it was reverence for
+authority as expressed in the Constitution under which slavery was
+established which made Secession inevitable.
+
+Besides, the laziness and incapacity of the negro had been more than he
+could endure. With no ties of tradition or habits of life to bind him, he
+simply refused to tolerate them. In this feeling Elsie had grown early to
+sympathize. She discharged Aunt Cindy for feeding her children from the
+kitchen, and brought a cook and house girl from the North, while Phil
+would employ only white men in any capacity.
+
+In the desolation of negro rule the Cameron farm had become worthless. The
+taxes had more than absorbed the income, and the place was only kept from
+execution by the indomitable energy of Mrs. Cameron, who made the hotel
+pay enough to carry the interest on a mortgage which was increasing from
+season to season.
+
+The doctor's practice was with him a divine calling. He never sent bills
+to his patients. They paid something if they had it. Now they had
+nothing.
+
+Ben's law practice was large for his age and experience, but his clients
+had no money.
+
+While the Camerons were growing each day poorer, Phil was becoming rich.
+His genius, skill, and enterprise had been quick to see the possibilities
+of the waterpower. The old Eagle cotton mills had been burned during the
+war. Phil organized the Eagle & Phoenix Company, interested Northern
+capitalists, bought the falls, and erected two great mills, the dim hum of
+whose spindles added a new note to the river's music. Eager, swift,
+modest, his head full of ideas, his heart full of faith, he had pressed
+forward to success.
+
+As the old Commoner's mind began to clear, and his recovery was sure, Phil
+determined to press his suit for Margaret's hand to an issue.
+
+Ben had dropped a hint of an interview of the Rev. Hugh McAlpin with Dr.
+Cameron, which had thrown Phil into a cold sweat.
+
+He hurried to the hotel to ask Margaret to drive with him that afternoon.
+He would stop at Lover's Leap and settle the question.
+
+He met the preacher, just emerging from the door, calm, handsome, serious,
+and Margaret by his side. The dark-haired beauty seemed strangely serene.
+What could it mean? His heart was in his throat. Was he too late? Wreathed
+in smiles when the preacher had gone, the girl's face was a riddle he
+could not solve.
+
+To his joy, she consented to go.
+
+As he left in his trim little buggy for the hotel, he stooped and kissed
+Elsie, whispering:
+
+"Make an offering on the altar of love for me, Sis!"
+
+"You're too slow. The prayers of all the saints will not save you!" she
+replied with a laugh, throwing him a kiss as he disappeared in the dust.
+
+As they drove through the great forest on the cliffs overlooking the
+river, the Southern world seemed lit with new splendours to-day for the
+Northerner. His heart beat with a strange courage. The odour of the pines,
+their sighing music, the subtone of the falls below, the subtle
+life-giving perfume of the fullness of summer, the splendour of the sun
+gleaming through the deep foliage, and the sweet sensuous air, all seemed
+incarnate in the calm, lovely face and gracious figure beside him.
+
+They took their seat on the old rustic built against the beech, which was
+the last tree on the brink of the cliff. A hundred feet below flowed the
+river, rippling softly along a narrow strip of sand which its current had
+thrown against the rocks. The ledge of towering granite formed a cave
+eighty feet in depth at the water's edge. From this projecting wall,
+tradition said a young Indian princess once leaped with her lover, fleeing
+from the wrath of a cruel father who had separated them. The cave below
+was inaccessible from above, being reached by a narrow footpath along the
+river's edge when entered a mile downstream.
+
+The view from the seat, under the beech, was one of marvellous beauty. For
+miles the broad river rolled in calm, shining glory seaward, its banks
+fringed with cane and trees, while fields of corn and cotton spread in
+waving green toward the distant hills and blue mountains of the west.
+
+Every tree on this cliff was cut with the initials of generations of
+lovers from Piedmont.
+
+They sat in silence for awhile, Margaret idly playing with a flower she
+had picked by the pathway, and Phil watching her devoutly. The Southern
+sun had tinged her face the reddish warm hue of ripened fruit, doubly
+radiant by contrast with her wealth of dark-brown hair. The lustrous
+glance of her eyes, half veiled by their long lashes, and the graceful,
+careless pose of her stately figure held him enraptured. Her dress of
+airy, azure blue, so becoming to her dark beauty, gave Phil the impression
+of eiderdown feathers of some rare bird of the tropics. He felt that if he
+dared to touch her she might lift her wings and sail over the cliff into
+the sky and forget to light again at his side.
+
+"I am going to ask a very bold and impertinent question, Miss Margaret,"
+Phil said with resolution. "May I?"
+
+Margaret smiled incredulously.
+
+"I'll risk your impertinence, and decide as to its boldness."
+
+"Tell me, please, what that preacher said to you to-day."
+
+Margaret looked away, unable to suppress the merriment that played about
+her eyes and mouth.
+
+"Will you never breathe it to a soul if I do?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"Honest Injun, here on the sacred altar of the princess?"
+
+"On my honour."
+
+"Then I'll tell you," she said, biting her lips to keep back a laugh. "Mr.
+McAlpin is very handsome and eloquent. I have always thought him the best
+preacher we have ever had in Piedmont----"
+
+"Yes, I know," Phil interrupted with a frown. "He is very pious," she went
+on evenly, "and seeks Divine guidance in prayer in everything he does. He
+called this morning to see me, and I was playing for him in the little
+music-room off the parlour, when he suddenly closed the door and said:
+
+"'Miss Margaret, I am going to take, this morning, the most important step
+of my life----'
+
+"Of course I hadn't the remotest idea what he meant----
+
+"'Will you join me in a word of prayer?' he asked, and knelt right down. I
+was accustomed, of course, to kneel with him in family worship at his
+pastoral calls, and so from habit I slipped to one knee by the piano
+stool, wondering what on earth he was about. When he prayed with fervour
+for the Lord to bless the great love with which he hoped to hallow my
+life--I giggled. It broke up the meeting. He rose and asked me to marry
+him. I told him the Lord hadn't revealed it to me----"
+
+Phil seized her hand and held it firmly. The smile died from the girl's
+face, her hand trembled, and the rose tint on her cheeks flamed to
+scarlet.
+
+"Margaret, my own, I love you," he cried with joy. "You could have told
+that story only to the one man whom you love--is it not true?"
+
+"Yes. I've loved you always," said the low, sweet voice.
+
+"Always?" asked Phil through a tear.
+
+"Before I saw you, when they told me you were as Ben's twin brother, my
+heart began to sing at the sound of your name----"
+
+"Call it," he whispered.
+
+"Phil, my sweetheart!" she said with a laugh.
+
+"How tender and homelike the music of your voice! The world has never seen
+the match of your gracious Southern womanhood! Snowbound in the North, I
+dreamed, as a child, of this world of eternal sunshine. And now every
+memory and dream I've found in you."
+
+"And you won't be disappointed in my simple ideal that finds its all
+within a home?"
+
+"No. I love the old-fashioned dream of the South. Maybe you have enchanted
+me, but I love these green hills and mountains, these rivers musical with
+cascade and fall, these solemn forests--but for the Black Curse, the South
+would be to-day the garden of the world!"
+
+"And you will help our people lift this curse?" softly asked the girl,
+nestling closer to his side.
+
+"Yes, dearest, thy people shall be mine! Had I a thousand wrongs to
+cherish, I'd forgive them all for your sake. I'll help you build here a
+new South on all that's good and noble in the old, until its dead fields
+blossom again, its harbours bristle with ships, and the hum of a thousand
+industries make music in every valley. I'd sing to you in burning verse if
+I could, but it is not my way. I have been awkward and slow in love,
+perhaps--but I'll be swift in your service. I dream to make dead stones
+and wood live and breathe for you, of victories wrung from Nature that are
+yours. My poems will be deeds, my flowers the hard-earned wealth that has
+a soul, which I shall lay at your feet."
+
+"Who said my lover was dumb?" she sighed, with a twinkle in her shining
+eyes. "You must introduce me to your father soon. He must like me as my
+father does you, or our dream can never come true."
+
+A pain gripped Phil's heart, but he answered bravely:
+
+"I will. He can't help loving you."
+
+They stood on the rustic seat to carve their initials within a circle,
+high on the old beechwood book of love.
+
+"May I write it out in full--Margaret Cameron--Philip Stoneman?" he
+asked.
+
+"No--only the initials now--the full names when you've seen my father and
+I've seen yours. Jeannie Campbell and Henry Lenoir were once written thus
+in full, and many a lover has looked at that circle and prayed for
+happiness like theirs. You can see there a new one cut over the old, the
+bark has filled, and written on the fresh page is 'Marion Lenoir' with the
+blank below for her lover's name."
+
+Phil looked at the freshly cut circle and laughed:
+
+"I wonder if Marion or her mother did that?"
+
+"Her mother, of course."
+
+"I wonder whose will be the lucky name some day within it?" said Phil
+musingly as he finished his own.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+A NIGHT HAWK
+
+
+When the old Commoner's private physician had gone and his mind had fully
+cleared, he would sit for hours in the sunshine of the vine-clad porch,
+asking Elsie of the village, its life, and its people. He smiled
+good-naturedly at her eager sympathy for their sufferings as at the
+enthusiasm of a child who could not understand. He had come possessed by a
+great idea--events must submit to it. Her assurance that the poverty and
+losses of the people were far in excess of the worst they had known during
+the war was too absurd even to secure his attention.
+
+He had refused to know any of the people, ignoring the existence of
+Elsie's callers. But he had fallen in love with Marion from the moment he
+had seen her. The cold eye of the old fox hunter kindled with the fire of
+his forgotten youth at the sight of this beautiful girl seated on the
+glistening back of the mare she had saved from death.
+
+As she rode through the village every boy lifted his hat as to passing
+royalty, and no one, old or young, could allow her to pass without a cry
+of admiration. Her exquisite figure had developed into the full tropic
+splendour of Southern girlhood.
+
+She had rejected three proposals from ardent lovers, on one of whom her
+mother had quite set her heart. A great fear had grown in Mrs. Lenoir's
+mind lest she were in love with Ben Cameron. She slipped her arm around
+her one day and timidly asked her.
+
+A faint flush tinged Marion's face up to the roots of her delicate blonde
+hair, and she answered with a quick laugh:
+
+"Mamma, how silly you are! You know I've always been in love with
+Ben--since I can first remember. I know he is in love with Elsie Stoneman.
+I am too young, the world too beautiful, and life too sweet to grieve over
+my first baby love. I expect to dance with him at his wedding, then meet
+my fate and build my own nest."
+
+Old Stoneman begged that she come every day to see him. He never tired
+praising her to Elsie. As she walked gracefully up to the house one
+afternoon, holding Hugh by the hand, he said to Elsie:
+
+"Next to you, my dear, she is the most charming creature I ever saw. Her
+tenderness for everything that needs help touches the heart of an old lame
+man in a very soft spot."
+
+"I've never seen any one who could resist her," Elsie answered. "Her
+gloves may be worn, her feet clad in old shoes, yet she is always neat,
+graceful, dainty, and serene. No wonder her mother worships her."
+
+Sam Ross, her simple friend, had stopped at the gate, and looked over into
+the lawn as if afraid to come in.
+
+When Marion saw Sam, she turned back to the gate to invite him in. The
+keeper of the poor, a vicious-looking negro, suddenly confronted him, and
+he shrank in terror close to the girl's side.
+
+"What you doin' here, sah?" the black keeper railed. "Ain't I done tole
+you 'bout runnin' away?"
+
+"You let him alone," Marion cried.
+
+The negro pushed her roughly from his side and knocked Sam down. The girl
+screamed for help, and old Stoneman hobbled down the steps, following
+Elsie.
+
+When they reached the gate, Marion was bending over the prostrate form.
+
+"Oh, my, my, I believe he's killed him!" she wailed.
+
+"Run for the doctor, sonny, quick," Stoneman said to Hugh. The boy darted
+away and brought Dr. Cameron.
+
+"How dare you strike that man, you devil?" thundered the old statesman.
+
+"'Case I tole 'im ter stay home en do de wuk I put 'im at, en he all de
+time runnin' off here ter git somfin' ter eat. I gwine frail de life outen
+'im, ef he doan min' me."
+
+"Well, you make tracks back to the Poorhouse. I'll attend to this man, and
+I'll have you arrested for this before night," said Stoneman, with a
+scowl.
+
+The black keeper laughed as he left.
+
+"Not 'less you'se er bigger man dan Gubner Silas Lynch, you won't!"
+
+When Dr. Cameron had restored Sam, and dressed the wound on his head where
+he had struck a stone in falling, Stoneman insisted that the boy be put to
+bed.
+
+Turning to Dr. Cameron, he asked:
+
+"Why should they put a brute like this in charge of the poor?"
+
+"That's a large question, sir, at this time," said the doctor politely,
+"and now that you have asked it, I have some things I've been longing for
+an opportunity to say to you."
+
+"Be seated, sir," the old Commoner answered, "I shall be glad to hear
+them."
+
+Elsie's heart leaped with joy over the possible outcome of this appeal,
+and she left the room with a smile for the doctor.
+
+"First, allow me," said the Southerner pleasantly, "to express my sorrow
+at your long illness, and my pleasure at seeing you so well. Your children
+have won the love of all our people and have had our deepest sympathy in
+your illness."
+
+Stoneman muttered an inaudible reply, and the doctor went on:
+
+"Your question brings up, at once, the problem of the misery and
+degradation into which our country has sunk under negro rule----"
+
+Stoneman smiled coldly and interrupted:
+
+"Of course, you understand my position in politics, Doctor Cameron--I am a
+Radical Republican."
+
+"So much the better," was the response. "I have been longing for months to
+get your ear. Your word will be all the more powerful if raised in our
+behalf. The negro is the master of our State, county, city, and town
+governments. Every school, college, hospital, asylum, and poorhouse is his
+prey. What you have seen is but a sample. Negro insolence grows beyond
+endurance. Their women are taught to insult their old mistresses and mock
+their poverty as they pass in their old, faded dresses. Yesterday a black
+driver struck a white child of six with his whip, and when the mother
+protested, she was arrested by a negro policeman, taken before a negro
+magistrate, and fined $10 for 'insulting a freedman.'"
+
+Stoneman frowned: "Such things must be very exceptional."
+
+"They are everyday occurrences and cease to excite comment. Lynch, the
+Lieutenant-Governor, who has bought a summer home here, is urging this
+campaign of insult with deliberate purpose----"
+
+The old man shook his head. "I can't think the Lieutenant-Governor guilty
+of such petty villainy."
+
+"Our school commissioner," the doctor continued, "is a negro who can
+neither read nor write. The black grand jury last week discharged a negro
+for stealing cattle and indicted the owner for false imprisonment. No such
+rate of taxation was ever imposed on a civilized people. A tithe of it
+cost Great Britain her colonies. There are 5,000 homes in this
+county--2,900 of them are advertised for sale by the sheriff to meet his
+tax bills. This house will be sold next court day----"
+
+Stoneman looked up sharply. "Sold for taxes?"
+
+"Yes; with the farm which has always been Mrs. Lenoir's support. In part
+her loss came from the cotton tax. Congress, in addition to the desolation
+of war, and the ruin of black rule, has wrung from the cotton farmers of
+the South a tax of $67,000,000. Every dollar of this money bears the stain
+of the blood of starving people. They are ready to give up, or to spring
+some desperate scheme of resistance----"
+
+The old man lifted his massive head and his great jaws came together with
+a snap:
+
+"Resistance to the authority of the National Government?"
+
+"No; resistance to the travesty of government and the mockery of
+civilization under which we are being throttled! The bayonet is now in the
+hands of a brutal negro militia. The tyranny of military martinets was
+child's play to this. As I answered your call this morning I was stopped
+and turned back in the street by the drill of a company of negroes under
+the command of a vicious scoundrel named Gus who was my former slave. He
+is the captain of this company. Eighty thousand armed negro troops,
+answerable to no authority save the savage instincts of their officers,
+terrorize the State. Every white company has been disarmed and disbanded
+by our scallawag Governor. I tell you, sir, we are walking on the crust of
+a volcano----"
+
+Old Stoneman scowled as the doctor rose and walked nervously to the window
+and back.
+
+"An appeal from you to the conscience of the North might save us," he went
+on eagerly. "Black hordes of former slaves, with the intelligence of
+children and the instincts of savages, armed with modern rifles, parade
+daily in front of their unarmed former masters. A white man has no right a
+negro need respect. The children of the breed of men who speak the tongue
+of Burns and Shakespeare, Drake and Raleigh, have been disarmed and made
+subject to the black spawn of an African jungle! Can human flesh endure
+it? When Goth and Vandal barbarians overran Rome, the negro was the slave
+of the Roman Empire. The savages of the North blew out the light of
+Ancient Civilization, but in all the dark ages which followed they never
+dreamed the leprous infamy of raising a black slave to rule over his
+former master! No people in the history of the world have ever before been
+so basely betrayed, so wantonly humiliated and degraded!"
+
+Stoneman lifted his head in amazement at the burst of passionate intensity
+with which the Southerner poured out his protest.
+
+"For a Russian to rule a Pole," he went on, "a Turk to rule a Greek, or an
+Austrian to dominate an Italian is hard enough, but for a thick-lipped,
+flat-nosed, spindle-shanked negro, exuding his nauseating animal odour, to
+shout in derision over the hearths and homes of white men and women is an
+atrocity too monstrous for belief. Our people are yet dazed by its horror.
+My God! when they realize its meaning, whose arm will be strong enough to
+hold them?"
+
+"I should think the South was sufficiently amused with resistance to
+authority," interrupted Stoneman.
+
+"Even so. Yet there is a moral force at the bottom of every living race of
+men. The sense of right, the feeling of racial destiny--these are
+unconquered and unconquerable forces. Every man in South Carolina to-day
+is glad that slavery is dead. The war was not too great a price for us to
+pay for the lifting of its curse. And now to ask a Southerner to be the
+slave of a slave----"
+
+"And yet, Doctor," said Stoneman coolly, "manhood suffrage is the one
+eternal thing fixed in the nature of Democracy. It is inevitable."
+
+"At the price of racial life? Never!" said the Southerner, with fiery
+emphasis. "This Republic is great, not by reason of the amount of dirt we
+possess, the size of our census roll, or our voting register--we are great
+because of the genius of the race of pioneer white freemen who settled
+this continent, dared the might of kings, and made a wilderness the home
+of Freedom. Our future depends on the purity of this racial stock. The
+grant of the ballot to these millions of semi-savages and the riot of
+debauchery which has followed are crimes against human progress."
+
+"Yet may we not train him?" asked Stoneman.
+
+"To a point, yes, and then sink to his level if you walk as his equal in
+physical contact with him. His race is not an infant; it is a
+degenerate--older than yours in time. At last we are face to face with the
+man whom slavery concealed with its rags. Suffrage is but the new paper
+cloak with which the Demagogue has sought to hide the issue. Can we
+assimilate the negro? The very question is pollution. In Hayti no white
+man can own land. Black dukes and marquises drive over them and swear at
+them for getting under their wheels. Is civilization a patent cloak with
+which law-tinkers can wrap an animal and make him a king?"
+
+"But the negro must be protected by the ballot," protested the statesman.
+"The humblest man must have the opportunity to rise. The real issue is
+Democracy."
+
+"The issue, sir, is Civilization! Not whether a negro shall be protected,
+but whether Society is worth saving from barbarism."
+
+"The statesman can educate," put in the Commoner.
+
+The doctor cleared his throat with a quick little nervous cough he was in
+the habit of giving when deeply moved.
+
+"Education, sir, is the development of that which _is_. Since the dawn of
+history the negro has owned the continent of Africa--rich beyond the dream
+of poet's fancy, crunching acres of diamonds beneath his bare black feet.
+Yet he never picked one up from the dust until a white man showed to him
+its glittering light. His land swarmed with powerful and docile animals,
+yet he never dreamed a harness, cart, or sled. A hunter by necessity, he
+never made an axe, spear, or arrowhead worth preserving beyond the moment
+of its use. He lived as an ox, content to graze for an hour. In a land of
+stone and timber he never sawed a foot of lumber, carved a block, or built
+a house save of broken sticks and mud. With league on league of ocean
+strand and miles of inland seas, for four thousand years he watched their
+surface ripple under the wind, heard the thunder of the surf on his beach,
+the howl of the storm over his head, gazed on the dim blue horizon calling
+him to worlds that lie beyond, and yet he never dreamed a sail! He lived
+as his fathers lived--stole his food, worked his wife, sold his children,
+ate his brother, content to drink, sing, dance, and sport as the ape!
+
+"And this creature, half child, half animal, the sport of impulse, whim,
+and conceit, 'pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw,' a being who,
+left to his will, roams at night and sleeps in the day, whose speech knows
+no word of love, whose passions, once aroused, are as the fury of the
+tiger--they have set this thing to rule over the Southern people----"
+
+The doctor sprang to his feet, his face livid, his eyes blazing with
+emotion. "Merciful God--it surpasses human belief!"
+
+He sank exhausted in his chair, and, extending his hand in an eloquent
+gesture, continued:
+
+"Surely, surely, sir, the people of the North are not mad? We can yet
+appeal to the conscience and the brain of our brethren of a common race?"
+
+Stoneman was silent as if stunned. Deep down in his strange soul he was
+drunk with the joy of a triumphant vengeance he had carried locked in the
+depths of his being, yet the intensity of this man's suffering for a
+people's cause surprised and distressed him as all individual pain hurt
+him.
+
+Dr. Cameron rose, stung by his silence and the consciousness of the
+hostility with which Stoneman had wrapped himself.
+
+"Pardon my apparent rudeness, Doctor," he said at length, extending his
+hand. "The violence of your feeling stunned me for the moment. I'm obliged
+to you for speaking. I like a plain-spoken man. I am sorry to learn of the
+stupidity of the former military commandant in this town----"
+
+"My personal wrongs, sir," the doctor broke in, "are nothing!"
+
+"I am sorry, too, about these individual cases of suffering. They are the
+necessary incidents of a great upheaval. But may it not all come out right
+in the end? After the Dark Ages, day broke at last. We have the printing
+press, railroad, and telegraph--a revolution in human affairs. We may do
+in years what it took ages to do in the past. May not the black man
+speedily emerge? Who knows? An appeal to the North will be a waste of
+breath. This experiment is going to be made. It is written in the book of
+Fate. But I like you. Come to see me again."
+
+Dr. Cameron left with a heavy heart. He had grown a great hope in this
+long-wished-for appeal to Stoneman. It had come to his ears that the old
+man, who had dwelt as one dead in their village, was a power.
+
+It was ten o'clock before the doctor walked slowly back to the hotel. As
+he passed the armoury of the black militia, they were still drilling under
+the command of Gus. The windows were open, through which came the steady
+tramp of heavy feet and the cry of "Hep! Hep! Hep!" from the Captain's
+thick cracked lips. The full-dress officer's uniform, with its gold
+epaulets, yellow stripes, and glistening sword, only accentuated the
+coarse bestiality of Gus. His huge jaws seemed to hide completely the gold
+braid on his collar.
+
+The doctor watched, with a shudder, his black bloated face covered with
+perspiration and the huge hand gripping his sword.
+
+They suddenly halted in double ranks and Gus yelled:
+
+"Odah, arms!"
+
+The butts of their rifles crashed to the floor with precision, and they
+were allowed to break ranks for a brief rest.
+
+They sang "John Brown's Body," and as its echoes died away a big negro
+swung his rifle in a circle over his head, shouting:
+
+"Here's your regulator for white trash! En dey's nine hundred ob 'em in
+dis county!"
+
+"Yas, Lawd!" howled another.
+
+"We got 'em down now en we keep 'em dar, chile!" bawled another.
+
+The doctor passed on slowly to the hotel. The night was dark, the streets
+were without lights under their present rulers, and the stars were hidden
+with swift-flying clouds which threatened a storm. As he passed under the
+boughs of an oak in front of his house, a voice above him whispered:
+
+"A message for you, sir."
+
+Had the wings of a spirit suddenly brushed his cheek, he would not have
+been more startled.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked, with a slight tremor.
+
+"A Night Hawk of the Invisible Empire, with a message from the Grand
+Dragon of the Realm," was the low answer, as he thrust a note in the
+doctor's hand. "I will wait for your answer."
+
+The doctor fumbled to his office on the corner of the lawn, struck a
+match, and read:
+
+"A great Scotch-Irish leader of the South from Memphis is here to-night
+and wishes to see you. If you will meet General Forrest, I will bring him
+to the hotel in fifteen minutes. Burn this. Ben."
+
+The doctor walked quickly back to the spot where he had heard the voice,
+and said:
+
+"I'll see him with pleasure."
+
+The invisible messenger wheeled his horse, and in a moment the echo of his
+muffled hoofs had died away in the distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE BEAT OF A SPARROW'S WING
+
+
+Dr. Cameron's appeal had left the old Commoner unshaken in his idea. There
+could be but one side to any question with such a man, and that was his
+side. He would stand by his own men, too. He believed in his own forces.
+The bayonet was essential to his revolutionary programme--hence the hand
+which held it could do no wrong. Wrongs were accidents which might occur
+under any system.
+
+Yet in no way did he display the strange contradictions of his character
+so plainly as in his inability to hate the individual who stood for the
+idea he was fighting with maniac fury. He liked Dr. Cameron instantly,
+though he had come to do a crime that would send him into beggared exile.
+
+Individual suffering he could not endure. In this the doctor's appeal had
+startling results.
+
+He sent for Mrs. Lenoir and Marion.
+
+"I understand, Madam," he said gravely, "that your house and farm are to
+be sold for taxes."
+
+"Yes, sir; we've given it up this time. Nothing can be done," was the
+hopeless answer.
+
+"Would you consider an offer of twenty dollars an acre?"
+
+"Nobody would be fool enough to offer it. You can buy all the land in the
+county for a dollar an acre. It's not worth anything."
+
+"I disagree with you," said Stoneman cheerfully. "I am looking far ahead.
+I would like to make an experiment here with Pennsylvania methods on this
+land. I'll give you ten thousand dollars cash for your five hundred acres
+if you will take it."
+
+"You don't mean it?" Mrs. Lenoir gasped, choking back the tears.
+
+"Certainly. You can at once return to your home. I'll take another house,
+and invest your money for you in good Northern securities."
+
+The mother burst into sobs, unable to speak, while Marion threw her arms
+impulsively around the old man's neck and kissed him.
+
+His cold eyes were warmed with the first tear they had shed in years.
+
+He moved the next day to the Ross estate, which he rented, had Sam brought
+back to the home of his childhood in charge of a good-natured white
+attendant, and installed in one of the little cottages on the lawn. He
+ordered Lynch to arrest the keeper of the poor, and hold him on a charge
+of assault with intent to kill, awaiting the action of the Grand Jury. The
+Lieutenant-Governor received this order with sullen anger--yet he saw to
+its execution. He was not quite ready for a break with the man who had
+made him.
+
+Astonished at his new humour, Phil and Elsie hastened to confess to him
+their love affairs and ask his approval of their choice. His reply was
+cautious, yet he did not refuse his consent. He advised them to wait a few
+months, allow him time to know the young people, and get his bearings on
+the conditions of Southern society. His mood of tenderness was a startling
+revelation to them of the depth and intensity of his love.
+
+When Mrs. Lenoir returned with Marion to her vine-clad home, she spent the
+first day of perfect joy since the death of her lover husband. The deed
+had not yet been made of the transfer of the farm, but it was only a
+question of legal formality. She was to receive the money in the form of
+interest-bearing securities and deliver the title on the following
+morning.
+
+Arm in arm, mother and daughter visited again each hallowed spot, with the
+sweet sense of ownership. The place was in perfect order. Its flowers were
+in gorgeous bloom, its walks clean and neat, the fences painted, and the
+gates swung on new hinges.
+
+They stood with their arms about one another, watching the sun sink behind
+the mountains, with tears of gratitude and hope stirring their souls.
+
+Ben Cameron strode through the gate, and they hurried to meet him with
+cries of joy.
+
+"Just dropped in a minute to see if you are snug for the night," he said.
+
+"Of course, snug and so happy we've been hugging one another for hours,"
+said the mother. "Oh, Ben, the clouds have lifted at last!"
+
+"Has Aunt Cindy come yet?" he asked.
+
+"No, but she'll be here in the morning to get breakfast. We don't want
+anything to eat," she answered.
+
+"Then I'll come out when I'm through my business to-night, and sleep in
+the house to keep you company."
+
+"Nonsense," said the mother, "we couldn't think of putting you to the
+trouble. We've spent many a night here alone."
+
+"But not in the past two years," he said with a frown.
+
+"We're not afraid," Marion said with a smile. "Besides, we'd keep you
+awake all night with our laughter and foolishness, rummaging through the
+house."
+
+"You'd better let me," Ben protested.
+
+"No," said the mother, "we'll be happier to-night alone, with only God's
+eye to see how perfectly silly we can be. Come and take supper with us
+to-morrow night. Bring Elsie and her guitar--I don't like the banjo--and
+we'll have a little love feast with music in the moonlight."
+
+"Yes, do that," cried Marion. "I know we owe this good luck to her. I want
+to tell her how much I love her for it."
+
+"Well, if you insist on staying alone," said Ben reluctantly, "I'll bring
+Miss Elsie to-morrow, but I don't like your being here without Aunt Cindy
+to-night."
+
+"Oh, we're all right!" laughed Marion, "but what I want to know is what
+you are doing out so late every night since you've come home, and where
+you were gone for the past week?"
+
+"Important business," he answered soberly.
+
+"Business--I expect!" she cried. "Look here, Ben Cameron, have you another
+girl somewhere you're flirting with?"
+
+"Yes," he answered slowly, coming closer and his voice dropping to a
+whisper, "and her name is Death."
+
+"Why, Ben!" Marion gasped, placing her trembling hand unconsciously on his
+arm, a faint flush mantling her cheek and leaving it white.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked the mother in low tones.
+
+"Nothing that I can explain. I only wish to warn you both never to ask me
+such questions before any one."
+
+"Forgive me," said Marion, with a tremor. "I didn't think it serious."
+
+Ben pressed the little warm hand, watching her mouth quiver with a smile
+that was half a sigh, as he answered:
+
+"You know I'd trust either of you with my life, but I can't be too
+careful."
+
+"We'll remember, Sir Knight," said the mother. "Don't forget, then,
+to-morrow--and spend the evening with us. I wish I had one of Marion's new
+dresses done. Poor child, she has never had a decent dress in her life
+before. You know I never look at my pretty baby grown to such a beautiful
+womanhood without hearing Henry say over and over again--'Beauty is a sign
+of the soul--the body is the soul!'"
+
+"Well, I've my doubts about your improving her with a fine dress," he
+replied thoughtfully. "I don't believe that more beautifully dressed women
+ever walked the earth than our girls of the South who came out of the war
+clad in the pathos of poverty, smiling bravely through the shadows,
+bearing themselves as queens though they wore the dress of the
+shepherdess."
+
+"I'm almost tempted to kiss you for that, as you once took advantage of
+me!" said Marion, with enthusiasm.
+
+The moon had risen and a whippoorwill was chanting his weird song on the
+lawn as Ben left them leaning on the gate.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was past midnight before they finished the last touches in restoring
+their nest to its old homelike appearance and sat down happy and tired in
+the room in which Marion was born, brooding and dreaming and talking over
+the future.
+
+The mother was hanging on the words of her daughter, all the baffled love
+of the dead poet husband, her griefs and poverty consumed in the glowing
+joy of new hopes. Her love for this child was now a triumphant passion,
+which had melted her own being into the object of worship, until the soul
+of the daughter was superimposed on the mother's as the magnetized by the
+magnetizer.
+
+"And you'll never keep a secret from me, dear?" she asked Marion.
+
+"Never."
+
+"You'll tell me all your love affairs?" she asked softly, as she drew the
+shining blonde head down on her shoulder.
+
+"Faithfully."
+
+"You know I've been afraid sometimes you were keeping something back from
+me, deep down in your heart--and I'm jealous. You didn't refuse Henry
+Grier because you loved Ben Cameron--now, did you?"
+
+The little head lay still before she answered:
+
+[Illustration: MAE MARSH AS THE VICTIM OF RECONSTRUCTION.]
+
+"How many times must I tell you, Silly, that I've loved Ben since I can
+remember, that I will always love him, and when I meet my fate, at last, I
+shall boast to my children of my sweet girl romance with the Hero of
+Piedmont, and they shall laugh and cry with me over----"
+
+"What's that?" whispered the mother, leaping to her feet.
+
+"I heard nothing," Marion answered, listening.
+
+"I thought I heard footsteps on the porch."
+
+"Maybe it's Ben, who decided to come anyhow," said the girl.
+
+"But he'd knock!" whispered the mother.
+
+The door flew open with a crash, and four black brutes leaped into the
+room, Gus in the lead, with a revolver in his hand, his yellow teeth
+grinning through his thick lips.
+
+"Scream now, an' I blow yer brains out," he growled.
+
+Blanched with horror, the mother sprang before Marion with a shivering
+cry:
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"Not you," said Gus, closing the blinds and handing a rope to another
+brute. "Tie de ole one ter de bedpost."
+
+The mother screamed. A blow from a black fist in her mouth, and the rope
+was tied.
+
+With the strength of despair she tore at the cords, half rising to her
+feet, while with mortal anguish she gasped:
+
+"For God's sake, spare my baby! Do as you will with me, and kill me--do
+not touch her!"
+
+Again the huge fist swept her to the floor.
+
+Marion staggered against the wall, her face white, her delicate lips
+trembling with the chill of a fear colder than death.
+
+"We have no money--the deed has not been delivered," she pleaded, a sudden
+glimmer of hope flashing in her blue eyes.
+
+Gus stepped closer, with an ugly leer, his flat nose dilated, his sinister
+bead eyes wide apart, gleaming apelike, as he laughed:
+
+"We ain't atter money!"
+
+The girl uttered a cry, long, tremulous, heart-rending, piteous.
+
+A single tiger spring, and the black claws of the beast sank into the soft
+white throat and she was still.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+AT THE DAWN OF DAY
+
+
+It was three o'clock before Marion regained consciousness, crawled to her
+mother, and crouched in dumb convulsions in her arms.
+
+"What can we do, my darling?" the mother asked at last.
+
+"Die--thank God, we have the strength left!"
+
+"Yes, my love," was the faint answer.
+
+"No one must ever know. We will hide quickly every trace of crime. They
+will think we strolled to Lover's Leap and fell over the cliff, and my
+name will always be sweet and clean--you understand--come, we must
+hurry----"
+
+With swift hands, her blue eyes shining with a strange light, the girl
+removed the shreds of torn clothes, bathed, and put on the dress of
+spotless white she wore the night Ben Cameron kissed her and called her a
+heroine.
+
+The mother cleaned and swept the room, piled the torn clothes and cord in
+the fireplace and burned them, dressed herself as if for a walk, softly
+closed the doors, and hurried with her daughter along the old pathway
+through the moonlit woods.
+
+At the edge of the forest she stopped and looked back tenderly at the
+little home shining amid the roses, caught their faint perfume and
+faltered:
+
+"Let's go back a minute--I want to see his room, and kiss Henry's picture
+again."
+
+"No, we are going to him now--I hear him calling us in the mists above the
+cliff," said the girl--"come, we must hurry. We might go mad and fail!"
+
+Down the dim cathedral aisles of the woods, hallowed by tender memories,
+through which the poet lover and father had taught them to walk with
+reverent feet and without fear, they fled to the old meeting-place of
+Love.
+
+On the brink of the precipice, the mother trembled, paused, drew back, and
+gasped:
+
+"Are you not afraid, my dear?"
+
+"No; death is sweet now," said the girl. "I fear only the pity of those we
+love."
+
+"Is there no other way? We might go among strangers," pleaded the mother.
+
+"We could not escape ourselves! The thought of life is torture. Only those
+who hate me could wish that I live. The grave will be soft and cool, the
+light of day a burning shame."
+
+"Come back to the seat a moment--let me tell you my love again," urged the
+mother. "Life still is dear while I hold your hand."
+
+As they sat in brooding anguish, floating up from the river valley came
+the music of a banjo in a negro cabin, mingled with vulgar shout and song
+and dance. A verse of the ribald senseless lay of the player echoed above
+the banjo's pert refrain:
+
+              "Chicken in de bread tray, pickin' up dough;
+              Granny, will your dog bite? No, chile, no!"
+
+The mother shivered and drew Marion closer.
+
+"Oh, dear! oh, dear! has it come to this--all my hopes of your beautiful
+life!"
+
+The girl lifted her head and kissed the quivering lips.
+
+"With what loving wonder we saw you grow," she sighed, "from a tottering
+babe on to the hour we watched the mystic light of maidenhood dawn in your
+blue eyes--and all to end in this hideous, leprous shame. No--No! I will
+not have it! It's only a horrible dream! God is not dead!"
+
+The young mother sank to her knees and buried her face in Marion's lap in
+a hopeless paroxysm of grief.
+
+The girl bent, kissed the curling hair, and smoothed it with her soft
+hand.
+
+A sparrow chirped in the tree above, a wren twittered in a bush, and down
+on the river's bank a mocking-bird softly waked his mate with a note of
+thrilling sweetness. "The morning is coming, dearest; we must go," said
+Marion. "This shame I can never forget, nor will the world forget. Death
+is the only way."
+
+They walked to the brink, and the mother's arms stole round the girl.
+
+"Oh, my baby, my beautiful darling, life of my life, heart of my heart,
+soul of my soul!"
+
+They stood for a moment, as if listening to the music of the falls,
+looking out over the valley faintly outlining itself in the dawn. The
+first far-away streaks of blue light on the mountain ranges, defining
+distance, slowly appeared. A fresh motionless day brooded over the world
+as the amorous stir of the spirit of morning rose from the moist earth of
+the fields below.
+
+A bright star still shone in the sky, and the face of the mother gazed on
+it intently. Did the Woman-spirit, the burning focus of the fiercest
+desire to live and will, catch in this supreme moment the star's Divine
+speech before which all human passions sink into silence? Perhaps, for she
+smiled. The daughter answered with a smile; and then, hand in hand, they
+stepped from the cliff into the mists and on through the opal gates of
+death.
+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Book IV--The Ku Klux Klan
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE HUNT FOR THE ANIMAL
+
+
+Aunt Cindy came at seven o'clock to get breakfast, and finding the house
+closed and no one at home, supposed Mrs. Lenoir and Marion had remained at
+the Cameron House for the night. She sat down on the steps, waited
+grumblingly an hour, and then hurried to the hotel to scold her former
+mistress for keeping her out so long.
+
+Accustomed to enter familiarly, she thrust her head into the dining-room,
+where the family were at breakfast with a solitary guest, muttering the
+speech she had been rehearsing on the way:
+
+"I lak ter know what sort er way dis--whar's Miss Jeannie?"
+
+Ben leaped to his feet.
+
+"Isn't she at home?"
+
+"Been waitin' dar two hours."
+
+"Great God!" he groaned, springing through the door and rushing to saddle
+the mare. As he left he called to his father: "Let no one know till I
+return."
+
+At the house he could find no trace of the crime he had suspected. Every
+room was in perfect order. He searched the yard carefully and under the
+cedar by the window he saw the barefoot tracks of a negro. The white man
+was never born who could make that track. The enormous heel projected
+backward, and in the hollow of the instep where the dirt would scarcely be
+touched by an Aryan was the deep wide mark of the African's flat foot. He
+carefully measured it, brought from an outhouse a box, and fastened it
+over the spot.
+
+It might have been an ordinary chicken thief, of course. He could not
+tell, but it was a fact of big import. A sudden hope flashed through his
+mind that they might have risen with the sun and strolled to their
+favourite haunt at Lover's Leap.
+
+In two minutes he was there, gazing with hard-set eyes at Marion's hat and
+handkerchief lying on the shelving rock.
+
+The mare bent her glistening neck, touched the hat with her nose, lifted
+her head, dilated her delicate nostrils, looked out over the cliff with
+her great soft half-human eyes and whinnied gently.
+
+Ben leaped to the ground, picked up the handkerchief, and looked at the
+initials, "M. L.," worked in the corner. He knew what lay on the river's
+brink below as well as if he stood over the dead bodies. He kissed the
+letters of her name, crushed the handkerchief in his locked hands, and
+cried:
+
+"Now, Lord God, give me strength for the service of my people!"
+
+He hurriedly examined the ground, amazed to find no trace of a struggle or
+crime. Could it be possible they had ventured too near the brink and
+fallen over?
+
+He hurried to report to his father his discoveries, instructed his mother
+and Margaret to keep the servants quiet until the truth was known, and the
+two men returned along the river's brink to the foot of the cliff.
+
+They found the bodies close to the water's edge, Marion had been killed
+instantly. Her fair blonde head lay in a crimson circle sharply defined in
+the white sand. But the mother was still warm with life. She had scarcely
+ceased to breathe. In one last desperate throb of love the trembling soul
+had dragged the dying body to the girl's side, and she had died with her
+head resting on the fair round neck as though she had kissed her and
+fallen asleep.
+
+Father and son clasped hands and stood for a moment with uncovered heads.
+The doctor said at length:
+
+"Go to the coroner at once and see that he summons the jury _you_ select
+and hand to him. Bring them immediately. I will examine the bodies before
+they arrive."
+
+Ben took the negro coroner into his office alone, turned the key, told him
+of the discovery, and handed him the list of the jury.
+
+"I'll hatter see Mr. Lynch fust, sah," he answered.
+
+Ben placed his hand on his hip pocket and said coldly:
+
+"Put your cross-mark on those forms I've made out there for you, go with
+me immediately, and summon these men. If you dare put a negro on this
+jury, or open your mouth as to what has occurred in this room, I'll kill
+you."
+
+The negro tremblingly did as he was commanded.
+
+The coroner's jury reported that the mother and daughter had been killed
+by accidentally failing over the cliff.
+
+In all the throng of grief-stricken friends who came to the little cottage
+that day, but two men knew the hell-lit secret beneath the tragedy.
+
+When the bodies reached the home, Doctor Cameron placed Mrs. Cameron and
+Margaret outside to receive visitors and prevent any one from disturbing
+him. He took Ben into the room and locked the doors.
+
+"My boy, I wish you to witness an experiment."
+
+He drew from its case a powerful microscope of French make.
+
+"What on earth are you going to do, sir?"
+
+The doctor's brilliant eyes flashed with a mystic light as he replied:
+
+"Find the fiend who did this crime--and then we will hang him on a gallows
+so high that all men from the rivers to ends of the earth shall see and
+feel and know the might of an unconquerable race of men."
+
+"But there's no trace of him here."
+
+"We shall see," said the doctor, adjusting his instrument.
+
+"I believe that a microscope of sufficient power will reveal on the retina
+of these dead eyes the image of this devil as if etched there by fire. The
+experiment has been made successfully in France. No word or deed of man is
+lost. A German scholar has a memory so wonderful he can repeat whole
+volumes of Latin, German, and French without an error. A Russian officer
+has been known to repeat the roll-call of any regiment by reading it
+twice. Psychologists hold that nothing is lost from the memory of man.
+Impressions remain in the brain like words written on paper in invisible
+ink. So I believe of images in the eye if we can trace them early enough.
+If no impression were made subsequently on the mother's eye by the light
+of day, I believe the fire-etched record of this crime can yet be
+traced."
+
+Ben watched him with breathless interest.
+
+He first examined Marion's eyes. But in the cold azure blue of their pure
+depths he could find nothing.
+
+"It's as I feared with the child," he said. "I can see nothing. It is on
+the mother I rely. In the splendour of life, at thirty-seven she was the
+full-blown perfection of womanhood, with every vital force at its highest
+tension----"
+
+He looked long and patiently into the dead mother's eye, rose and wiped
+the perspiration from his face.
+
+"What is it, sir?" asked Ben.
+
+Without reply, as if in a trance, he returned to the microscope and again
+rose with the little, quick, nervous cough he gave only in the greatest
+excitement, and whispered:
+
+"Look now and tell me what you see."
+
+Ben looked and said:
+
+"I can see nothing."
+
+"Your powers of vision are not trained as mine," replied the doctor,
+resuming his place at the instrument.
+
+"What do you see?" asked the younger man, bending nervously.
+
+"The bestial figure of a negro--his huge black hand plainly defined--the
+upper part of the face is dim, as if obscured by a gray mist of dawn--but
+the massive jaws and lips are clear--merciful God--yes--it's Gus!"
+
+The doctor leaped to his feet livid with excitement.
+
+Ben bent again, looked long and eagerly, but could see nothing.
+
+"I'm afraid the image is in your eye, sir, not the mother's," said Ben
+sadly.
+
+"That's possible, of course," said the doctor, "yet I don't believe it."
+
+"I've thought of the same scoundrel and tried blood hounds on that track,
+but for some reason they couldn't follow it. I suspected him from the
+first, and especially since learning that he left for Columbia on the
+early morning train on pretended official business."
+
+"Then I'm not mistaken," insisted the doctor, trembling with excitement.
+"Now do as I tell you. Find when he returns. Capture him, bind, gag, and
+carry him to your meeting-place under the cliff, and let me know."
+
+On the afternoon of the funeral, two days later, Ben received a cypher
+telegram from the conductor on the train telling him that Gus was on the
+evening mail due at Piedmont at nine o'clock.
+
+The papers had been filled with accounts of the accident, and an enormous
+crowd from the county and many admirers of the fiery lyrics of the poet
+father had come from distant parts to honour his name. All business was
+suspended, and the entire white population of the village followed the
+bodies to their last resting-place.
+
+As the crowds returned to their homes, no notice was taken of a dozen men
+on horseback who rode out of town by different ways about dusk. At eight
+o'clock they met in the woods near the first little flag-station located
+on McAllister's farm four miles from Piedmont, where a buggy awaited them.
+Two men of powerful build, who were strangers in the county, alighted from
+the buggy and walked along the track to board the train at the station
+three miles beyond and confer with the conductor.
+
+The men, who gathered in the woods, dismounted, removed their saddles, and
+from the folds of the blankets took a white disguise for horse and man. In
+a moment it was fitted on each horse, with buckles at the throat, breast,
+and tail, and the saddles replaced. The white robe for the man was made in
+the form of an ulster overcoat with cape, the skirt extending to the top
+of the shoes. From the red belt at the waist were swung two revolvers
+which had been concealed in their pockets. On each man's breast was a
+scarlet circle within which shone a white cross. The same scarlet circle
+and cross appeared on the horse's breast, while on his flanks flamed the
+three red mystic letters, K. K. K. Each man wore a white cap, from the
+edges of which fell a piece of cloth extending to the shoulders. Beneath
+the visor was an opening for the eyes and lower down one for the mouth. On
+the front of the caps of two of the men appeared the red wings of a hawk
+as the ensign of rank. From the top of each cap rose eighteen inches high
+a single spike held erect by a twisted wire. The disguises for man and
+horse were made of cheap unbleached domestic and weighed less than three
+pounds. They were easily folded within a blanket and kept under the saddle
+in a crowd without discovery. It required less than two minutes to remove
+the saddles, place the disguises, and remount.
+
+At the signal of a whistle, the men and horses arrayed in white and
+scarlet swung into double-file cavalry formation and stood awaiting
+orders. The moon was now shining brightly, and its light shimmering on the
+silent horses and men with their tall spiked caps made a picture such as
+the world had not seen since the Knights of the Middle Ages rode on their
+Holy Crusades.
+
+As the train neared the flag-station, which was dark and unattended, the
+conductor approached Gus, leaned over, and said: "I've just gotten a
+message from the sheriff telling me to warn you to get off at this station
+and slip into town. There's a crowd at the depot there waiting for you and
+they mean trouble."
+
+Gus trembled and whispered:
+
+"Den fur Gawd's sake lemme off here."
+
+The two men who got on at the station below stepped out before the negro,
+and as he alighted from the car, seized, tripped, and threw him to the
+ground. The engineer blew a sharp signal, and the train pulled on.
+
+In a minute Gus was bound and gagged.
+
+One of the men drew a whistle and blew twice. A single tremulous call like
+the cry of an owl answered. The swift beat of horses' feet followed, and
+four white-and-scarlet clansmen swept in a circle around the group.
+
+One of the strangers turned to the horseman with red-winged ensign on his
+cap, saluted, and said:
+
+"Here's your man, Night Hawk."
+
+"Thanks, gentlemen," was the answer. "Let us know when we can be of
+service to your county."
+
+The strangers sprang into their buggy and disappeared toward the North
+Carolina line.
+
+The clansmen blindfolded the negro, placed him on a horse, tied his legs
+securely, and his arms behind him to the ring in the saddle.
+
+The Night Hawk blew his whistle four sharp blasts, and his pickets
+galloped from their positions and joined him.
+
+Again the signal rang, and his men wheeled with the precision of trained
+cavalrymen into column formation three abreast, and rode toward Piedmont,
+the single black figure tied and gagged in the centre of the
+white-and-scarlet squadron.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE FIERY CROSS
+
+
+The clansmen with their prisoner skirted the village and halted in the
+woods on the river bank. The Night Hawk signalled for single file, and in
+a few minutes they stood against the cliff under Lover's Leap and saluted
+their chief, who sat his horse, awaiting their arrival.
+
+Pickets were placed in each direction on the narrow path by which the spot
+was approached, and one was sent to stand guard on the shelving rock
+above.
+
+Through the narrow crooked entrance they led Gus into the cave which had
+been the rendezvous of the Piedmont Den of the Clan since its formation.
+The meeting-place was a grand hall eighty feet deep, fifty feet wide, and
+more than forty feet in height, which had been carved out of the stone by
+the swift current of the river in ages past when its waters stood at a
+higher level.
+
+To-night it was lighted by candles placed on the ledges of the walls. In
+the centre, on a fallen boulder, sat the Grand Cyclops of the Den, the
+presiding officer of the township, his rank marked by scarlet stripes on
+the white-cloth spike of his cap. Around him stood twenty or more clansmen
+in their uniform, completely disguised. One among them wore a yellow sash,
+trimmed in gold, about his waist, and on his breast two yellow circles
+with red crosses interlapping, denoting his rank to be the Grand Dragon of
+the Realm, or Commander-in-Chief of the State.
+
+The Cyclops rose from his seat:
+
+"Let the Grand Turk remove his prisoner for a moment and place him in
+charge of the Grand Sentinel at the door, until summoned."
+
+The officer disappeared with Gus, and the Cyclops continued:
+
+"The Chaplain will open our Council with prayer."
+
+Solemnly every white-shrouded figure knelt on the ground, and the voice of
+the Rev. Hugh McAlpin, trembling with feeling, echoed through the cave:
+
+"Lord God of our Fathers, as in times past thy children, fleeing from the
+oppressor, found refuge beneath the earth until once more the sun of
+righteousness rose, so are we met to-night. As we wrestle with the powers
+of darkness now strangling our life, give to our souls to endure as seeing
+the invisible, and to our right arms the strength of the martyred dead of
+our people. Have mercy on the poor, the weak, the innocent and
+defenceless, and deliver us from the body of the Black Death. In a land of
+light and beauty and love our women are prisoners of danger and fear.
+While the heathen walks his native heath unharmed and unafraid, in this
+fair Christian Southland our sisters, wives, and daughters dare not stroll
+at twilight through the streets or step beyond the highway at noon. The
+terror of the twilight deepens with the darkness, and the stoutest heart
+grows sick with fear for the red message the morning bringeth. Forgive our
+sins--they are many--but hide not thy face from us, O God, for thou art
+our refuge!"
+
+As the last echoes of the prayer lingered and died in the vaulted roof,
+the clansmen rose and stood a moment in silence.
+
+Again the voice of the Cyclops broke the stillness:
+
+"Brethren, we are met to-night at the request of the Grand Dragon of the
+Realm, who has honoured us with his presence, to constitute a High Court
+for the trial of a case involving life. Are the Night Hawks ready to
+submit their evidence?"
+
+"We are ready," came the answer.
+
+"Then let the Grand Scribe read the objects of the Order on which your
+authority rests."
+
+The Scribe opened his Book of Record, "_The Prescript of the Order of the
+Invisible Empire_," and solemnly read:
+
+"To the lovers of law and order, peace and justice, and to the shades of
+the venerated dead, greeting:
+
+"This is an institution of Chivalry, Humanity, Mercy, and Patriotism:
+embodying in its genius and principles all that is chivalric in conduct,
+noble in sentiment, generous in manhood, and patriotic in purpose: its
+particular objects being,
+
+"First: To protect the weak, the innocent, and the defenceless from the
+indignities, wrongs, and outrages of the lawless, the violent, and the
+brutal; to relieve the injured and the oppressed: to succour the suffering
+and unfortunate, and especially the widows and the orphans of Confederate
+Soldiers.
+
+"Second: To protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, and
+all the laws passed in conformity thereto, and to protect the States and
+the people thereof from all invasion from any source whatever.
+
+"Third: To aid and assist in the execution of all Constitutional laws, and
+to protect the people from unlawful seizure, and from trial except by
+their peers in conformity to the laws of the land."
+
+"The Night Hawks will produce their evidence," said the Cyclops, "and the
+Grand Monk will conduct the case of the people against the negro Augustus
+Caesar, the former slave of Dr. Richard Cameron."
+
+Dr. Cameron advanced and removed his cap. His snow-white hair and beard,
+ruddy face and dark-brown brilliant eyes made a strange picture in its
+weird surroundings, like an ancient alchemist ready to conduct some daring
+experiment in the problem of life.
+
+"I am here, brethren," he said, "to accuse the black brute about to appear
+of the crime of assault on a daughter of the South----"
+
+A murmur of thrilling surprise and horror swept the crowd of
+white-and-scarlet figures as with one common impulse they moved closer.
+
+"His feet have been measured and they exactly tally with the negro tracks
+found under the window of the Lenoir cottage. His flight to Columbia and
+return on the publication of their deaths as an accident is a confirmation
+of our case. I will not relate to you the scientific experiment which
+first fixed my suspicion of this man's guilt. My witness could not confirm
+it, and it might not be to you credible. But this negro is peculiarly
+sensitive to hypnotic influence. I propose to put him under this power
+to-night before you, and, if he is guilty, I can make him tell his
+confederates, describe and rehearse the crime itself."
+
+The Night Hawks led Gus before Doctor Cameron, untied his hands, removed
+the gag, and slipped the blindfold from his head.
+
+Under the doctor's rigid gaze the negro's knees struck together, and he
+collapsed into complete hypnosis, merely lifting his huge paws lamely as
+if to ward a blow.
+
+They seated him on the boulder from which the Cyclops rose, and Gus stared
+about the cave and grinned as if in a dream seeing nothing.
+
+The doctor recalled to him the day of the crime, and he began to talk to
+his three confederates, describing his plot in detail, now and then
+pausing and breaking into a fiendish laugh.
+
+Old McAllister, who had three lovely daughters at home, threw off his cap,
+sank to his knees, and buried his face in his hands, while a dozen of the
+white figures crowded closer, nervously gripping the revolvers which hung
+from their red belts.
+
+Doctor Cameron pushed them back and lifted his hand in warning.
+
+The negro began to live the crime with fearful realism--the journey past
+the hotel to make sure the victims had gone to their home; the visit to
+Aunt Cindy's cabin to find her there; lying in the field waiting for the
+last light of the village to go out; gloating with vulgar exultation over
+their plot, and planning other crimes to follow its success--how they
+crept along the shadows of the hedgerow of the lawn to avoid the
+moonlight, stood under the cedar, and through the open windows watched the
+mother and daughter laughing and talking within----
+
+"Min' what I tells you now--Tie de ole one, when I gib you de rope," said
+Gus in a whisper.
+
+"My God!" cried the agonized voice of the figure with the double
+cross--"that's what the piece of burnt rope in the fireplace meant!"
+
+Doctor Cameron again lifted his hand for silence.
+
+Now they burst into the room, and with the light of hell in his beady,
+yellow-splotched eyes, Gus gripped his imaginary revolver and growled:
+
+"Scream, an' I blow yer brains out!"
+
+In spite of Doctor Cameron's warning, the white-robed figures jostled and
+pressed closer----
+
+Gus rose to his feet and started across the cave as if to spring on the
+shivering figure of the girl, the clansmen with muttered groans, sobs, and
+curses falling back as he advanced. He still wore his full Captain's
+uniform, its heavy epaulets flashing their gold in the unearthly light,
+his beastly jaws half covering the gold braid on the collar. His thick
+lips were drawn upward in an ugly leer and his sinister bead eyes gleamed
+like a gorilla's. A single fierce leap and the black claws clutched the
+air slowly as if sinking into the soft white throat.
+
+Strong men began to cry like children.
+
+"Stop him! Stop him!" screamed a clansman, springing on the negro and
+grinding his heel into his big thick neck. A dozen more were on him in a
+moment, kicking, stamping, cursing, and crying like madmen.
+
+Doctor Cameron leaped forward and beat them off:
+
+"Men! Men! You must not kill him in this condition!"
+
+Some of the white figures had fallen prostrate on the ground, sobbing in a
+frenzy of uncontrollable emotion. Some were leaning against the walls,
+their faces buried in their arms.
+
+Again old McAllister was on his knees crying over and over again:
+
+"God have mercy on my people!"
+
+When at length quiet was restored, the negro was revived, and again bound,
+blindfolded, gagged, and thrown to the ground before the Grand Cyclops.
+
+A sudden inspiration flashed in Doctor Cameron's eyes. Turning to the
+figure with yellow sash and double cross he said:
+
+"Issue your orders and despatch your courier to-night with the old
+Scottish rite of the Fiery Cross. It will send a thrill of inspiration to
+every clansman in the hills."
+
+"Good--prepare it quickly!" was the answer.
+
+Doctor Cameron opened his medicine case, drew the silver drinking-cover
+from a flask, and passed out of the cave to the dark circle of blood still
+shining in the sand by the water's edge. He knelt and filled the cup half
+full of the crimson grains, and dipped it into the river. From a saddle he
+took the lightwood torch, returned within, and placed the cup on the
+boulder on which the Grand Cyclops had sat. He loosed the bundle of
+lightwood, took two pieces, tied them into the form of a cross, and laid
+it beside a lighted candle near the silver cup.
+
+The silent figures watched his every movement. He lifted the cup and
+said:
+
+"Brethren, I hold in my hand the water of your river bearing the red stain
+of the life of a Southern woman, a priceless sacrifice on the altar of
+outraged civilization. Hear the message of your chief."
+
+The tall figure with the yellow sash and double cross stepped before the
+strange altar, while the white forms of the clansmen gathered about him in
+a circle. He lifted his cap, and laid it on the boulder, and his men gazed
+on the flushed face of Ben Cameron, the Grand Dragon of the Realm.
+
+He stood for a moment silent, erect, a smouldering fierceness in his eyes,
+something cruel and yet magnetic in his alert bearing.
+
+He looked on the prostrate negro lying in his uniform at his feet, seized
+the cross, lighted the three upper ends and held it blazing in his hand,
+while, in a voice full of the fires of feeling, he said:
+
+"Men of the South, the time for words has passed, the hour for action has
+struck. The Grand Turk will execute this negro to-night and fling his body
+on the lawn of the black Lieutenant-Governor of the State."
+
+The Grand Turk bowed.
+
+"I ask for the swiftest messenger of this Den who can ride till dawn."
+
+The man whom Doctor Cameron had already chosen stepped forward:
+
+"Carry my summons to the Grand Titan of the adjoining province in North
+Carolina whom you will find at Hambright. Tell him the story of this crime
+and what you have seen and heard. Ask him to report to me here the second
+night from this, at eleven o'clock, with six Grand Giants from his
+adjoining counties, each accompanied by two hundred picked men. In olden
+times when the Chieftain of our people summoned the clan on an errand of
+life and death, the Fiery Cross, extinguished in sacrificial blood, was
+sent by swift courier from village to village. This call was never made in
+vain, nor will it be to-night, in the new world. Here, on this spot made
+holy ground by the blood of those we hold dearer than life, I raise the
+ancient symbol of an unconquered race of men----"
+
+High above his head in the darkness of the cave he lifted the blazing
+emblem----
+
+"The Fiery Cross of old Scotland's hills! I quench its flames in the
+sweetest blood that ever stained the sands of Time."
+
+He dipped its ends in the silver cup, extinguished the fire, and handed
+the charred symbol to the courier, who quickly disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
+
+
+The discovery of the Captain of the African Guards lying in his full
+uniform in Lynch's yard send a thrill of terror to the triumphant leagues.
+Across the breast of the body was pinned a scrap of paper on which was
+written in red ink the letters K. K. K. It was the first actual evidence
+of the existence of this dreaded order in Ulster county.
+
+The First Lieutenant of the Guards assumed command and held the full
+company in their armoury under arms day and night. Beneath his door he had
+found a notice which was also nailed on the courthouse. It appeared in the
+Piedmont _Eagle_ and in rapid succession in every newspaper not under
+negro influence in the State. It read as follows:
+
+                                         "HEADQUARTERS OF REALM NO 4.
+                                          "DREADFUL ERA, BLACK EPOCH,
+                                                       "HIDEOUS HOUR.
+
+  "GENERAL ORDER NO. I.
+
+  "The Negro Militia now organized in this State threatens the
+  extinction of civilization. They have avowed their purpose to make war
+  upon and exterminate the Ku Klux Klan, an organization which is now
+  the sole guardian of Society. All negroes are hereby given forty-eight
+  hours from the publication of this notice in their respective counties
+  to surrender their arms at the courthouse door. Those who refuse must
+  take the consequences.
+
+  "By order of the G. D. of Realm No. 4.
+
+  "By the Grand Scribe."
+
+The white people of Piedmont read this notice with a thrill of exultant
+joy. Men walked the streets with an erect bearing which said without
+words:
+
+"Stand out of the way."
+
+For the first time since the dawn of Black Rule negroes began to yield to
+white men and women the right of way on the streets.
+
+On the day following, the old Commoner sent for Phil.
+
+"What is the latest news?" he asked.
+
+"The town is in a fever of excitement--not over the discovery in Lynch's
+yard--but over the blacker rumour that Marion and her mother committed
+suicide to conceal an assault by this fiend."
+
+"A trumped-up lie," said the old man emphatically.
+
+"It's true, sir. I'll take Doctor Cameron's word for it."
+
+"You have just come from the Camerons?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Let it be your last visit. The Camerons are on the road to the gallows,
+father and son. Lynch informs me that the murder committed last night, and
+the insolent notice nailed on the courthouse door, could have come only
+from their brain. They are the hereditary leaders of these people. They
+alone would have the audacity to fling this crime into the teeth of the
+world and threaten worse. We are face to face with Southern barbarism.
+Every man now to his own standard! The house of Stoneman can have no part
+with midnight assassins."
+
+"Nor with black barbarians, father. It is a question of who possesses the
+right of life and death over the citizen, the organized virtue of the
+community, or its organized crime. You have mistaken for death the
+patience of a generous people. We call ourselves the champions of liberty.
+Yet for less than they have suffered, kings have lost their heads and
+empires perished before the wrath of freemen."
+
+"My boy, this is not a question for argument between us," said the father
+with stern emphasis. "This conspiracy of terror and assassination
+threatens to shatter my work to atoms. The election on which turns the
+destiny of Congress, and the success or failure of my life, is but a few
+weeks away. Unless this foul conspiracy is crushed, I am ruined, and the
+Nation falls again beneath the heel of a slaveholders' oligarchy."
+
+"Your nightmare of a slaveholders' oligarchy does not disturb me."
+
+"At least you will have the decency to break your affair with Margaret
+Cameron pending the issue of my struggle of life and death with her father
+and brother?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"Then I will do it for you."
+
+"I warn you, sir," Phil cried, with anger, "that if it comes to an issue
+of race against race, I am a white man. The ghastly tragedy of the
+condition of society here is something for which the people of the South
+are no longer responsible----"
+
+"I'll take the responsibility!" growled the old cynic.
+
+"Don't ask me to share it," said the younger man emphatically.
+
+The father winced, his lips trembled, and he answered brokenly:
+
+"My boy, this is the bitterest hour of my life that has had little to make
+it sweet. To hear such words from you is more than I can bear. I am an old
+man now--my sands are nearly run. But two human beings love me, and I love
+but two. On you and your sister I have lavished all the treasures of a
+maimed and strangled soul--and it has come to this! Read the notice which
+one of your friends thrust into the window of my bedroom last night."
+
+He handed Phil a piece of paper on which was written:
+
+  "The old club-footed beast who has sneaked into our town, pretending
+  to search for health, in reality the leader of the infernal Union
+  League, will be given forty-eight hours to vacate the house and rid
+  this community of his presence.
+
+                                                           "K. K. K."
+
+"Are you an officer of the Union League?" Phil asked in surprise.
+
+"I am its soul."
+
+"How could a Southerner discover this, if your own children didn't know
+it?"
+
+"By their spies who have joined the League."
+
+"And do the rank and file know the Black Pope at the head of the order?"
+
+"No, but high officials do."
+
+"Does Lynch?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then he is the scoundrel who placed that note in your room. It is a
+clumsy attempt to forge an order of the Klan. The white man does not live
+in this town capable of that act. I know these people."
+
+"My boy, you are bewitched by the smiles of a woman to deny your own flesh
+and blood."
+
+"Nonsense, father--you are possessed by an idea which has become an insane
+mania----"
+
+"Will you respect my wishes?" the old man broke in angrily.
+
+"I will not," was the clear answer. Phil turned and left the room, and the
+old man's massive head sank on his breast in helpless baffled rage and
+grief.
+
+He was more successful in his appeal to Elsie. He convinced her of the
+genuineness of the threat against him. The brutal reference to his
+lameness roused the girl's soul. When the old man, crushed by Phil's
+desertion, broke down the last reserve of his strange cold nature, tore
+his wounded heart open to her, cried in agony over his deformity, his
+lameness, and the anguish with which he saw the threatened ruin of his
+life-work, she threw her arms around his neck in a flood of tears and
+cried:
+
+"Hush, father, I will not desert you. I will never leave you, or wed
+without your blessing. If I find that my lover was in any way responsible
+for this insult, I'll tear his image out of my heart and never speak his
+name again!"
+
+She wrote a note to Ben, asking him to meet her at sundown on horseback at
+Lover's Leap.
+
+Ben was elated at the unexpected request. He was hungry for an hour with
+his sweetheart, whom he had not seen save for a moment since the storm of
+excitement broke following the discovery of the crime.
+
+He hastened through his work of ordering the movement of the Klan for the
+night, and determined to surprise Elsie by meeting her in his uniform of a
+Grand Dragon.
+
+Secure in her loyalty, he would deliberately thus put his life in her
+hands. Using the water of a brook in the woods for a mirror, he adjusted
+his yellow sash and pushed the two revolvers back under the cape out of
+sight, saying to himself with a laugh:
+
+"Betray me? Well, if she does, life would not be worth the living!"
+
+When Elsie had recovered from the first shock of surprise at the white
+horse and rider waiting for her under the shadows of the old beech, her
+surprise gave way to grief at the certainty of his guilt, and the
+greatness of his love in thus placing his life without a question in her
+hands.
+
+He tied the horses in the woods, and they sat down on the rustic.
+
+He removed his helmet cap, threw back the white cape showing the scarlet
+lining, and the two golden circles with their flaming crosses on his
+breast, with boyish pride. The costume was becoming to his slender
+graceful figure, and he knew it.
+
+"You see, sweetheart, I hold high rank in the Empire," he whispered.
+
+From beneath his cape he drew a long bundle which he unrolled. It was a
+triangular flag of brilliant yellow edged in scarlet. In the centre of the
+yellow ground was the figure of a huge black dragon with fiery red eyes
+and tongue. Around it was a Latin motto worked in scarlet: "_quod semper,
+quod ubique, quod ab omnibus_"--what always, what everywhere, what by all
+has been held to be true. "The battle-flag of the Klan," he said; "the
+standard of the Grand Dragon."
+
+Elsie seized his hand and kissed it, unable to speak.
+
+"Why so serious to-night?"
+
+"Do you love me very much?" she answered.
+
+"Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay his life at the feet of
+his beloved," he responded tenderly.
+
+"Yes, yes; I know--and that is why you are breaking my heart. When first I
+met you--it seems now ages and ages ago--I was a vain, self-willed, pert
+little thing----"
+
+"It's not so. I took you for an angel--you were one. You are one
+to-night."
+
+"Now," she went on slowly, "in what I have lived through you I have grown
+into an impassioned, serious, self-disciplined, bewildered woman. Your
+perfect trust to-night is the sweetest revelation that can come to a
+woman's soul and yet it brings to me unspeakable pain----"
+
+"For what?"
+
+"You are guilty of murder."
+
+Ben's figure stiffened.
+
+"The judge who pronounces sentence of death on a criminal outlawed by
+civilized society is not usually called a murderer, my dear."
+
+"And by whose authority are you a judge?"
+
+"By authority of the sovereign people who created the State of South
+Carolina. The criminals who claim to be our officers are usurpers placed
+there by the subversion of law."
+
+"Won't you give this all up for my sake?" she pleaded. "Believe me, you
+are in great danger."
+
+"Not so great as is the danger of my sister and mother and my
+sweetheart--it is a man's place to face danger," he gravely answered.
+
+"This violence can only lead to your ruin and shame----"
+
+"I am fighting the battle of a race on whose fate hangs the future of the
+South and the Nation. My ruin and shame will be of small account if they
+are saved," was the even answer.
+
+"Come, my dear," she pleaded tenderly, "you know that I have weighed the
+treasures of music and art and given them all for one clasp of your hand,
+one throb of your heart against mine. I should call you cruel did I not
+know you are infinitely tender. This is the only thing I have ever asked
+you to do for me----"
+
+"Desert my people! You must not ask of me this infamy, if you love me," he
+cried.
+
+"But, listen; this is wrong--this wild vengeance is a crime you are doing,
+however great the provocation. We cannot continue to love one another if
+you do this. Listen: I love you better than father, mother, life, or
+career--all my dreams I've lost in you. I've lived through eternity to-day
+with my father----"
+
+"You know me guiltless of the vulgar threat against him----"
+
+"Yes, and yet you are the leader of desperate men who might have done it.
+As I fought this battle to-day, I've lost you, lost myself, and sunk down
+to the depths of despair, and at the end rang the one weak cry of a
+woman's heart for her lover! Your frown can darken the brightest sky. For
+your sake I can give up all save the sense of right. I'll walk by your
+side in life--lead you gently and tenderly along the way of my dreams if I
+can, but if you go your way, it shall be mine; and I shall still be glad
+because you are there! See how humble I am--only you must not commit
+crime!"
+
+"Come, sweetheart, you must not use that word," he protested, with a touch
+of wounded pride.
+
+"You are a conspirator----"
+
+"I am a revolutionist."
+
+"You are committing murder!"
+
+"I am waging war."
+
+Elsie leaped to her feet in a sudden rush of anger and extended her hand:
+
+"Good-bye. I shall not see you again. I do not know you. You are still a
+stranger to me."
+
+He held her hand firmly.
+
+"We must not part in anger," he said slowly. "I have grave work to do
+before the day dawns. We may not see each other again."
+
+She led her horse to the seat quickly and without waiting for his
+assistance sprang into the saddle.
+
+"Do you not fear my betrayal of your secret?" she asked.
+
+He rode to her side, bent close, and whispered:
+
+"It's as safe as if locked in the heart of God."
+
+A little sob caught her voice, yet she said slowly in firm tones:
+
+"If another crime is committed in this county by your Klan, we will never
+see each other again."
+
+He escorted her to the edge of the town without a word, pressed her hand
+in silence, wheeled his horse, and disappeared on the road to the North
+Carolina line.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE BANNER OF THE DRAGON
+
+
+Ben Cameron rode rapidly to the rendezvous of the pickets who were to meet
+the coming squadrons.
+
+He returned home and ate a hearty meal. As he emerged from the
+dining-room, Phil seized him by the arm and led him under the big oak on
+the lawn:
+
+"Cameron, old boy, I'm in a lot of trouble. I've had a quarrel with my
+father, and your sister has broken me all up by returning my ring. I want
+a little excitement to ease my nerves. From Elsie's incoherent talk I
+judge you are in danger. If there's going to be a fight, let me in."
+
+Ben took his hand:
+
+"You're the kind of a man I'd like to have for a brother, and I'll help
+you in love--but as for war--it's not your fight. We don't need help."
+
+At ten o'clock Ben met the local Den at their rendezvous under the cliff,
+to prepare for the events of the night.
+
+The forty members present were drawn up before him in double rank of
+twenty each.
+
+"Brethren," he said to them solemnly, "I have called you to-night to take
+a step from which there can be no retreat. We are going to make a daring
+experiment of the utmost importance. If there is a faint heart among you,
+now is the time to retire----"
+
+"We are with you!" cried the men.
+
+"There are laws of our race, old before this Republic was born in the
+souls of white freemen. The fiat of fools has repealed on paper these
+laws. Your fathers who created this Nation were first Conspirators, then
+Revolutionists, now Patriots and Saints. I need to-night ten volunteers to
+lead the coming clansmen over this county and disarm every negro in it.
+The men from North Carolina cannot be recognized. Each of you must run
+this risk. Your absence from home to-night will be doubly dangerous for
+what will be done here at this negro armoury under my command. I ask of
+these ten men to ride their horses until dawn, even unto death, to ride
+for their God, their native land, and the womanhood of the South!
+
+"To each man who accepts this dangerous mission I offer for your bed the
+earth, for your canopy the sky, for your bread stones; and when the flash
+of bayonets shall fling into your face from the Square the challenge of
+martial law, the protection I promise you--is exile, imprisonment, and
+death! Let the ten men who accept these terms step forward four paces."
+
+With a single impulse the whole double line of forty white-and-scarlet
+figures moved quickly forward four steps!
+
+The leader shook hands with each man, his voice throbbing with emotion as
+he said:
+
+"Stand together like this, men, and armies will march and countermarch
+over the South in vain! We will save the life of our people."
+
+The ten guides selected by the Grand Dragon rode forward, and each led a
+division of one hundred men through the ten townships of the county and
+successfully disarmed every negro before day without the loss of a life.
+
+The remaining squadron of two hundred and fifty men from Hambright,
+accompanied by the Grand Titan in command of the Province of Western Hill
+Counties, were led by Ben Cameron into Piedmont as the waning moon rose
+between twelve and one o'clock.
+
+They marched past Stoneman's place on the way to the negro armoury, which
+stood on the opposite side of the street a block below.
+
+The wild music of the beat of a thousand hoofs on the cobblestones of the
+street waked every sleeper. The old Commoner hobbled to his window and
+watched them pass, his big hands fumbling nervously, and his soul stirred
+to its depths.
+
+The ghostlike shadowy columns moved slowly with the deliberate
+consciousness of power. The scarlet circles on their breasts could be
+easily seen when one turned toward the house, as could the big red letters
+K. K. K. on each horse's flank.
+
+In the centre of the line waved from a gold-tipped spear the battle-flag
+of the Klan. As they passed the bright lights burning at his gate, old
+Stoneman could see this standard plainly. The huge black dragon with
+flaming eyes and tongue seemed a living thing crawling over a
+scarlet-tipped yellow cloud.
+
+At the window above stood a little figure watching that banner of the
+Dragon pass with aching heart.
+
+Phil stood at another, smiling with admiration for their daring:
+
+"By George, it stirs the blood to see it! You can't crush men of that
+breed!"
+
+The watchers were not long in doubt as to what the raiders meant.
+
+They deployed quickly around the armoury. A whistle rang its shrill cry,
+and a volley of two hundred and fifty carbines and revolvers smashed every
+glass in the building. The sentinel had already given the alarm, and the
+drum was calling the startled negroes to their arms. They returned the
+volley twice, and for ten minutes were answered with the steady crack of
+two hundred and fifty guns. A white flag appeared at the door, and the
+firing ceased. The negroes laid down their arms and surrendered. All save
+three were allowed to go to their homes for the night and carry their
+wounded with them.
+
+The three confederates in the crime of their captain were bound and led
+away. In a few minutes the crash of a volley told their end.
+
+The little white figure rapped at Phil's door and placed a trembling hand
+on his arm:
+
+"Phil," she said softly, "please go to the hotel and stay until you know
+all that has happened--until you know the full list of those killed and
+wounded. I'll wait. You understand?"
+
+As he stooped and kissed her, he felt a hot tear roll down her cheek.
+
+"Yes, little Sis, I understand," he answered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE REIGN OF THE KLAN
+
+
+In quick succession every county followed the example of Ulster, and the
+arms furnished the negroes by the State and National governments were in
+the hands of the Klan. The League began to collapse in a panic of terror.
+
+A gale of chivalrous passion and high action, contagious and intoxicating,
+swept the white race. The moral, mental, and physical earthquake which
+followed the first assault on one of their daughters revealed the unity of
+the racial life of the people. Within the span of a week they had lived a
+century.
+
+The spirit of the South "like lightning had at last leaped forth, half
+startled at itself, its feet upon the ashes and the rags," its hands
+tight-gripped on the throat of tyrant, thug, and thief.
+
+It was the resistless movement of a race, not of any man or leader of men.
+The secret weapon with which they struck was the most terrible and
+efficient in human history--these pale hosts of white-and-scarlet
+horsemen! They struck shrouded in a mantle of darkness and terror. They
+struck where the power of resistance was weakest and the blow least
+suspected. Discovery or retaliation was impossible. Not a single disguise
+was ever penetrated. All was planned and ordered as by destiny. The
+accused was tried by secret tribunal, sentenced without a hearing,
+executed in the dead of night without warning, mercy, or appeal. The
+movements of the Klan were like clockwork, without a word, save the
+whistle of the Night Hawk, the crack of his revolver, and the hoofbeat of
+swift horses moving like figures in a dream, and vanishing in mists and
+shadows.
+
+The old club-footed Puritan, in his mad scheme of vengeance and party
+power, had overlooked the Covenanter, the backbone of the South. This man
+had just begun to fight! His race had defied the Crown of Great Britain a
+hundred years from the caves and wilds of Scotland and Ireland, taught the
+English people how to slay a king and build a commonwealth, and, driven
+into exile into the wilderness of America, led our Revolution, peopled the
+hills of the South, and conquered the West.
+
+As the young German patriots of 1812 had organized the great struggle for
+their liberties under the noses of the garrisons of Napoleon, so Ben
+Cameron had met the leaders of his race in Nashville, Tennessee, within
+the picket lines of thirty-five thousand hostile troops, and in the ruins
+of an old homestead discussed and adopted the ritual of the Invisible
+Empire.
+
+Within a few months this Empire overspread a territory larger than modern
+Europe. In the approaching election it was reaching out its daring white
+hands to tear the fruits of victory from twenty million victorious
+conquerors.
+
+The triumph at which they aimed was one of incredible grandeur. They had
+risen to snatch power out of defeat and death. Under their clan leadership
+the Southern people had suddenly developed the courage of the lion, the
+cunning of the fox, and the deathless faith of religious enthusiasts.
+
+Society was fused in the white heat of one sublime thought and beat with
+the pulse of the single will of the Grand Wizard of the Klan of Memphis.
+
+Women and children had eyes and saw not, ears and heard not. Over four
+thousand disguises for men and horses were made by the women of the South,
+and not one secret ever passed their lips!
+
+With magnificent audacity, infinite patience, and remorseless zeal, a
+conquered people were struggling to turn his own weapon against their
+conqueror, and beat his brains out with the bludgeon he had placed in the
+hands of their former slaves.
+
+Behind the tragedy of Reconstruction stood the remarkable man whose iron
+will alone had driven these terrible measures through the chaos of
+passion, corruption, and bewilderment which followed the first
+assassination of an American President. As he leaned on his window in this
+village of the South and watched in speechless rage the struggle at that
+negro armoury, he felt for the first time the foundations sinking beneath
+his feet. As he saw the black cowards surrender in terror, noted the
+indifference and cool defiance with which those white horsemen rode and
+shot, he knew that he had collided with the ultimate force which his whole
+scheme had overlooked.
+
+He turned on his big club foot from the window, clinched his fist and
+muttered:
+
+"But I'll hang that man for this deed if it's the last act of my life!"
+
+The morning brought dismay to the negro, the carpet-bagger, and the
+scallawag of Ulster. A peculiar freak of weather in the early morning
+added to their terror. The sun rose clear and bright except for a slight
+fog that floated from the river valley, increasing the roar of the falls.
+About nine o'clock a huge black shadow suddenly rushed over Piedmont from
+the west, and in a moment the town was shrouded in twilight. The cries of
+birds were hushed and chickens went to roost as in a total eclipse of the
+sun. Knots of people gathered on the streets and gazed uneasily at the
+threatening skies. Hundreds of negroes began to sing and shout and pray,
+while sensible people feared a cyclone or cloud-burst. A furious downpour
+of rain was swiftly followed by sunshine, and the negroes rose from their
+knees, shouting with joy to find the end of the world had after all been
+postponed.
+
+But that the end of their brief reign in a white man's land had come, but
+few of them doubted. The events of the night were sufficiently eloquent.
+The movement of the clouds in sympathy was unnecessary.
+
+Old Stoneman sent for Lynch, and found he had fled to Columbia. He sent
+for the only lawyer in town whom the Lieutenant-Governor had told him
+could be trusted.
+
+The lawyer was polite, but his refusal to undertake the prosecution of any
+alleged member of the Klan was emphatic.
+
+"I'm a sinful man, sir," he said with a smile. "Besides, I prefer to live,
+on general principles."
+
+"I'll pay you well," urged the old man, "and if you secure the conviction
+of Ben Cameron, the man we believe to be the head of this Klan, I'll give
+you ten thousand dollars."
+
+The lawyer was whittling on a piece of pine meditatively.
+
+"That's a big lot of money in these hard times. I'd like to own it, but
+I'm afraid it wouldn't be good at the bank on the other side. I prefer the
+green fields of South Carolina to those of Eden. My harp isn't in tune."
+
+Stoneman snorted in disgust:
+
+"Will you ask the Mayor to call to see me at once?"
+
+"We ain't got none," was the laconic answer.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Haven't you heard what happened to his Honour last night?"
+
+"No."
+
+"The Klan called to see him," went on the lawyer with a quizzical look "at
+3 A. M. Rather early for a visit of state. They gave him forty-nine lashes
+on his bare back, and persuaded him that the climate of Piedmont didn't
+agree with him. His Honour, Mayor Bizzel, left this morning with his negro
+wife and brood of mulatto children for his home, the slums of Cleveland,
+Ohio. We are deprived of his illustrious example, and he may not be a
+wiser man than when he came, but he's a much sadder one."
+
+Stoneman dismissed the even-tempered member of the bar, and wired Lynch to
+return immediately to Piedmont. He determined to conduct the prosecution
+of Ben Cameron in person. With the aid of the Lieutenant-Governor he
+succeeded in finding a man who would dare to swear out a warrant against
+him.
+
+As a preliminary skirmish he was charged with a violation of the statutory
+laws of the United States relating to Reconstruction and arraigned before
+a Commissioner.
+
+Against Elsie's agonizing protest, old Stoneman appeared at the courthouse
+to conduct the prosecution.
+
+In the absence of the United States Marshal, the warrant had been placed
+in the hands of the sheriff, returnable at ten o'clock on the morning
+fixed for the trial. The new sheriff of Ulster was no less a personage
+than Uncle Aleck, who had resigned his seat in the House to accept the
+more profitable one of High Sheriff of the County.
+
+There was a long delay in beginning the trial. At 10:30 not a single
+witness summoned had appeared, nor had the prisoner seen fit to honour the
+court with his presence.
+
+Old Stoneman sat fumbling his hands in nervous, sullen rage, while Phil
+looked on with amusement.
+
+"Send for the sheriff," he growled to the Commissioner.
+
+In a moment Aleck appeared bowing humbly and politely to every white man
+he passed. He bent halfway to the floor before the Commissioner and said:
+
+"Marse Ben be here in er minute, sah. He's er eatin' his breakfus'. I run
+erlong erhead."
+
+Stoneman's face was a thundercloud as he scrambled to his feet and glared
+at Aleck:
+
+"_Marse_ Ben? Did you say _Marse_ Ben? Who's he?"
+
+Aleck bowed low again.
+
+"De young Colonel, sah--Marse Ben Cameron."
+
+"And you the sheriff of this county trotted along in front to make the way
+smooth for your prisoner?"
+
+"Yessah!"
+
+"Is that the way you escort prisoners before a court?"
+
+"Dem kin' er prisoners--yessah."
+
+"Why didn't you walk beside him?"
+
+Aleck grinned from ear to ear and bowed very low:
+
+"He say sumfin' to me, sah!"
+
+"And what did he say?"
+
+Aleck shook his head and laughed:
+
+"I hates ter insinuate ter de cote, sah!"
+
+"What did he say to you?" thundered Stoneman.
+
+"He say--he say--ef I walk 'longside er him--he knock hell outen me,
+sah!"
+
+"Indeed."
+
+"Yessah, en I 'spec' he would," said Aleck insinuatingly. "La, he's a
+gemman, sah, he is! He tell me he come right on. He be here sho'."
+
+Stoneman whispered to Lynch, turned with a look of contempt to Aleck, and
+said:
+
+"Mr. Sheriff, you interest me. Will you be kind enough to explain to this
+court what has happened to you lately to so miraculously change your
+manners?"
+
+Aleck glanced around the room nervously.
+
+"I seed sumfin'--a vision, sah!"
+
+"A vision? Are you given to visions?"
+
+"Na-sah. Dis yere wuz er sho' 'nuff vision! I wuz er feelin' bad all day
+yistiddy. Soon in de mawnin', ez I wuz gwine 'long de road, I see a big
+black bird er settin' on de fence. He flop his wings, look right at me en
+say, 'Corpse! Corpse! Corpse!'"--Aleck's voice dropped to a whisper--"'en
+las' night de Ku Kluxes come ter see me, sah!"
+
+Stoneman lifted his beetling brows.
+
+"That's interesting. We are searching for information on that subject."
+
+"Yessah! Dey wuz Sperits, ridin' white hosses wid flowin' white robes, en
+big blood-red eyes! De hosses wuz twenty feet high, en some er de Sperits
+wuz higher dan dis cote-house! Dey wuz all bal' headed, 'cept right on de
+top whar dere wuz er straight blaze er fire shot up in de air ten foot
+high!"
+
+"What did they say to you?"
+
+"Dey say dat ef I didn't design de sheriff's office, go back ter farmin'
+en behave myself, dey had er job waitin' fer me in hell, sah. En shos' you
+born dey wuz right from dar!"
+
+"Of course!" sneered the old Commoner.
+
+"Yessah! Hit's des lak I tell yer. One ob 'em makes me fetch 'im er drink
+er water. I carry two bucketsful ter 'im 'fo' I git done, en I swar ter
+God he drink it all right dar 'fo' my eyes! He say hit wuz pow'ful dry
+down below, sah! En den I feel sumfin' bus' loose inside er me, en I
+disremember all dat come ter pass! I made er jump fer de ribber bank, en
+de next I knowed I wuz er pullin' fur de odder sho'. I'se er pow'ful good
+swimmer, sah, but I nebber git ercross er creek befo' ez quick ez I got
+ober de ribber las' night."
+
+"And you think of going back to farming?"
+
+"I done begin plowin' dis mornin', marster!"
+
+"_Don't_ you call me marster!" yelled the old man. "Are you the sheriff of
+this county?"
+
+Aleck laughed loudly.
+
+"Na-sah! Dat's er joke! I ain't nuttin' but er plain nigger--I wants
+peace, judge."
+
+"Evidently we need a new sheriff."
+
+"Dat's what I tell 'em, sah, dis mornin'--en I des flings mysef on de
+ignance er de cote!"
+
+Phil laughed aloud, and his father's colourless eyes began to spit cold
+poison.
+
+"About what time do you think your master, Colonel Cameron, will honour us
+with his presence?" he asked Aleck.
+
+Again the sheriff bowed.
+
+"He's er comin' right now, lak I tole yer--he's er gemman, sah."
+
+Ben walked briskly into the room and confronted the Commissioner.
+
+Without apparently noticing his presence, Stoneman said:
+
+"In the absence of witnesses we accept the discharge of this warrant,
+pending developments."
+
+Ben turned on his heel, pressed Phil's hand as he passed through the
+crowd, and disappeared.
+
+The old Commoner drove to the telegraph office and sent a message of more
+than a thousand words to the White House, a copy of which the operator
+delivered to Ben Cameron within an hour.
+
+President Grant next morning issued a proclamation declaring the nine
+Scotch-Irish hill counties of South Carolina in a state of insurrection,
+ordered an army corps of five thousand men to report there for duty,
+pending the further necessity of martial law and the suspension of the
+writ of _Habeas Corpus_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE COUNTER STROKE
+
+
+From the hour he had watched the capture of the armoury old Stoneman felt
+in the air a current against him which was electric, as if the dead had
+heard the cry of the clansmen's greeting, risen and rallied to their pale
+ranks.
+
+The daring campaign these men were waging took his breath. They were going
+not only to defeat his delegation to Congress, but send their own to take
+their seats, reinforced by the enormous power of a suppressed negro vote.
+The blow was so sublime in its audacity, he laughed in secret admiration
+while he raved and cursed.
+
+The army corps took possession of the hill counties, quartering from five
+to six hundred regulars at each courthouse; but the mischief was done. The
+State was on fire. The eighty thousand rifles with which the negroes had
+been armed were now in the hands of their foes. A white rifle-club was
+organized in every town, village, and hamlet. They attended the public
+meetings with their guns, drilled in front of the speakers' stands,
+yelled, hooted, hissed, cursed, and jeered at the orators who dared to
+champion or apologize for negro rule. At night the hoofbeat of squadrons
+of pale horsemen and the crack of their revolvers struck terror to the
+heart of every negro, carpet-bagger, and scallawag.
+
+There was a momentary lull in the excitement, which Stoneman mistook for
+fear, at the appearance of the troops. He had the Governor appoint a white
+sheriff, a young scallawag from the mountains who was a noted moonshiner
+and desperado. He arrested over a hundred leading men in the county,
+charged them with complicity in the killing of the three members of the
+African Guard, and instructed the judge and clerk of the court to refuse
+bail and commit them to jail under military guard.
+
+To his amazement the prisoners came into Piedmont armed and mounted. They
+paid no attention to the deputy sheriffs who were supposed to have them in
+charge. They deliberately formed in line under Ben Cameron's direction and
+he led them in a parade through the streets.
+
+The five hundred United States regulars who were camped on the river bank
+were Westerners. Ben led his squadron of armed prisoners in front of this
+camp and took them through the evolutions of cavalry with the precision of
+veterans. The soldiers dropped their games and gathered, laughing, to
+watch them. The drill ended with a double-rank charge at the river
+embankment. When they drew every horse on his haunches on the brink,
+firing a volley with a single crash, a wild cheer broke from the soldiers,
+and the officers rushed from their tents.
+
+Ben wheeled his men, galloped in front of the camp, drew them up at dress
+parade, and saluted. A low word of command from a trooper, and the
+Westerners quickly formed in ranks, returned the salute, and cheered. The
+officers rushed up, cursing, and drove the men back to their tents.
+
+The horsemen laughed, fired a volley in the air, cheered, and galloped
+back to the courthouse. The court was glad to get rid of them. There was
+no question raised over technicalities in making out bail-bonds. The clerk
+wrote the names of imaginary bondsmen as fast as his pen could fly, while
+the perspiration stood in beads on his red forehead.
+
+Another telegram from old Stoneman to the White House, and the Writ of
+_Habeas Corpus_ was suspended and Martial Law proclaimed.
+
+Enraged beyond measure at the salute from the troops, he had two companies
+of negro regulars sent from Columbia, and they camped in the Courthouse
+Square.
+
+He determined to make a desperate effort to crush the fierce spirit before
+which his forces were being driven like chaff. He induced Bizzel to return
+from Cleveland with his negro wife and children. He was escorted to the
+City Hall and reinstalled as Mayor by the full force of seven hundred
+troops, and a negro guard placed around his house. Stoneman had Lynch run
+an excursion from the Black Belt, and brought a thousand negroes to attend
+a final rally at Piedmont. He placarded the town with posters on which
+were printed the Civil Rights Bill and the proclamation of the President
+declaring Martial Law.
+
+Ben watched this day dawn with nervous dread. He had passed a sleepless
+night, riding in person to every Den of the Klan and issuing positive
+orders that no white man should come to Piedmont.
+
+A clash with the authority of the United States he had avoided from the
+first as a matter of principle. It was essential to his success that his
+men should commit no act of desperation which would imperil his plans.
+Above all, he wished to avoid a clash with old Stoneman personally.
+
+The arrival of the big excursion was the signal for a revival of negro
+insolence which had been planned. The men brought from the Eastern part of
+the State were selected for the purpose. They marched over the town
+yelling and singing. A crowd of them, half drunk, formed themselves three
+abreast and rushed the sidewalks, pushing every white man, woman, and
+child into the street.
+
+They met Phil on his way to the hotel and pushed him into the gutter. He
+said nothing, crossed the street, bought a revolver, loaded it and put it
+in his pocket. He was not popular with the negroes, and he had been shot
+at twice on his way from the mills at night. The whole affair of this
+rally, over which his father meant to preside, filled him with disgust,
+and he was in an ugly mood.
+
+Lynch's speech was bold, bitter, and incendiary, and at its close the
+drunken negro troopers from the local garrison began to slouch through the
+streets, two and two, looking for trouble.
+
+At the close of the speaking Stoneman called the officer in command of
+these troops, and said:
+
+"Major, I wish this rally to-day to be a proclamation of the supremacy of
+law, and the enforcement of the equality of every man under law. Your
+troops are entitled to the rights of white men. I understand the hotel
+table has been free to-day to the soldiers from the camp on the river.
+They are returning the courtesy extended to the criminals who drilled
+before them. Send two of your black troops down for dinner and see that it
+is served. I wish an example for the State."
+
+"It will be a dangerous performance, sir," the major protested.
+
+The old Commoner furrowed his brow.
+
+"Have you been instructed to act under my orders?"
+
+"I have, sir," said the officer, saluting.
+
+"Then do as I tell you," snapped Stoneman.
+
+Ben Cameron had kept indoors all day, and dined with fifty of the Western
+troopers whom he had identified as leading in the friendly demonstration
+to his men. Margaret, who had been busy with Mrs. Cameron entertaining
+these soldiers, was seated in the dining-room alone, eating her dinner,
+while Phil waited impatiently in the parlour.
+
+The guests had all gone when two big negro troopers, fighting drunk,
+walked into the hotel. They went to the water-cooler and drank
+ostentatiously, thrusting their thick lips coated with filth far into the
+cocoanut dipper, while a dirty hand grasped its surface.
+
+They pushed the dining-room door open and suddenly flopped down beside
+Margaret.
+
+She attempted to rise, and cried in rage:
+
+"How dare you, black brutes?"
+
+One of them threw his arm around her chair, thrust his face into hers, and
+said with a laugh:
+
+"Don't hurry, my beauty; stay and take dinner wid us!"
+
+Margaret again attempted to rise, and screamed, as Phil rushed into the
+room with drawn revolver. One of the negroes fired at him, missed, and the
+next moment dropped dead with a bullet through his heart.
+
+The other leaped across the table and through the open window.
+
+Margaret turned, confronting both Phil and Ben with revolvers in their
+hands, and fainted.
+
+Ben hurried Phil out the back door and persuaded him to fly.
+
+"Man, you must go! We must not have a riot here to-day. There's no telling
+what will happen. A disturbance now, and my men will swarm into town
+to-night. For God's sake go, until things are quiet!"
+
+"But I tell you I'll face it. I'm not afraid," said Phil quietly.
+
+"No, but I am," urged Ben. "These two hundred negroes are armed and drunk.
+Their officers may not be able to control them, and they may lay their
+hands on you--go--go!--go!--you must go! The train is due in fifteen
+minutes."
+
+He half lifted him on a horse tied behind the hotel, leaped on another,
+galloped to the flag-station two miles out of town, and put him on the
+north-bound train.
+
+"Stay in Charlotte until I wire for you," was Ben's parting injunction.
+
+He turned his horse's head for McAllister's, sent the two boys with all
+speed to the Cyclops of each of the ten township Dens with positive orders
+to disregard all wild rumours from Piedmont and keep every man out of town
+for two days.
+
+As he rode back he met a squad of mounted white regulars, who arrested
+him. The trooper's companion had sworn positively that he was the man who
+killed the negro.
+
+Within thirty minutes he was tried by drum-head court-martial and
+sentenced to be shot.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE SNARE OF THE FOWLER
+
+
+Sweet was the secret joy of old Stoneman over the fate of Ben Cameron. His
+death sentence would strike terror to his party, and his prompt execution,
+on the morning of the election but two days off, would turn the tide, save
+the State, and rescue his daughter from a hated alliance.
+
+He determined to bar the last way of escape. He knew the Klan would
+attempt a rescue, and stop at no means fair or foul short of civil war.
+Afraid of the loyalty of the white battalions quartered in Piedmont, he
+determined to leave immediately for Spartanburg, order an exchange of
+garrisons, and, when the death warrant was returned from headquarters,
+place its execution in the hands of a stranger, to whom appeal would be
+vain. He knew such an officer in the Spartanburg post, a man of fierce,
+vindictive nature, once court-martialed for cruelty, who hated every
+Southern white man with mortal venom. He would put him in command of the
+death watch.
+
+He hired a fast team and drove across the county with all speed, doubly
+anxious to get out of town before Elsie discovered the tragedy and
+appealed to him for mercy. Her tears and agony would be more than he could
+endure. She would stay indoors on account of the crowds, and he would not
+be missed until evening, when safely beyond her reach.
+
+When Phil arrived at Charlotte he found an immense crowd at the bulletin
+board in front of the _Observer_ office reading the account of the
+Piedmont tragedy. To his horror he learned of the arrest, trial, and
+sentence of Ben for the deed which he had done.
+
+He rushed to the office of the Division Superintendent of the Piedmont Air
+Line Railroad, revealed his identity, told him the true story of the
+tragedy, and begged for a special to carry him back. The Superintendent,
+who was a clansman, not only agreed, but within an hour had the special
+ready and two cars filled with stern-looking men to accompany him. Phil
+asked no questions. He knew what it meant. The train stopped at Gastonia
+and King's Mountain and took on a hundred more men.
+
+The special pulled into Piedmont at dusk. Phil ran to the Commandant and
+asked for an interview with Ben alone.
+
+"For what purpose, sir?" the officer asked.
+
+Phil resorted to a ruse, knowing the Commandant to be unaware of any
+difference of opinion between him and his father.
+
+"I hold a commission to obtain a confession from the prisoner which may
+save his life by destroying the Ku Klux Klan."
+
+He was admitted at once and the guard ordered to withdraw until the
+interview ended.
+
+Phil took Ben Cameron's place, exchanging hat and coat, and wrote a note
+to his father, telling in detail the truth, and asked for his immediate
+interference.
+
+"Deliver that, and I'll be out of here in two hours," he said, as he
+placed the note in Ben's hand.
+
+"I'll go straight to the house," was the quick reply.
+
+The exchange of the Southerner's slouch hat and Prince Albert for Phil's
+derby and short coat completely fooled the guard in the dim light. The men
+were as much alike as twins except the shade of difference in the colour
+of their hair. He passed the sentinel without a challenge, and walked
+rapidly toward Stoneman's house.
+
+On the way he was astonished to meet five hundred soldiers just arrived on
+a special from Spartanburg. Amazed at the unexpected movement, he turned
+and followed them back to the jail.
+
+They halted in front of the building he had just vacated, and their
+commander handed an official document to the officer in charge. The guard
+was changed and a cordon of soldiers encircled the prison.
+
+The Piedmont garrison had received notice by wire to move to Spartanburg,
+and Ben heard the beat of their drums already marching to board the
+special.
+
+He pressed forward and asked an interview with the Captain in command.
+
+The answer came with a brutal oath:
+
+"I have been warned against all the tricks and lies this town can hatch.
+The commander of the death watch will permit no interview, receive no
+visitors, hear no appeal, and allow no communication with the prisoner
+until after the execution. You can announce this to whom it may concern."
+
+"But you've got the wrong man. You have no right to execute him," said Ben
+excitedly.
+
+"I'll risk it," he answered, with a sneer.
+
+"Great God!" Ben cried beneath his breath. "The old fool has entrapped his
+son in the net he spread for me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+A RIDE FOR A LIFE
+
+
+When Ben Cameron failed to find either Elsie or her father at home, he
+hurried to the hotel, walking under the shadows of the trees to avoid
+recognition, though his resemblance to Phil would have enabled him to pass
+in his hat and coat unchallenged by any save the keenest observers.
+
+He found his mother's bedroom door ajar and saw Elsie within, sobbing in
+her arms. He paused, watched, and listened.
+
+Never had he seen his mother so beautiful--her face calm, intelligent, and
+vital, crowned with a halo of gray. She stood, flushed and dignified,
+softly smoothing the golden hair of the sobbing girl whom she had learned
+to love as her daughter. Her whole being reflected the years of homage she
+had inspired in husband, children, and neighbours. What a woman! She had
+made war inevitable, fought it to the bitter end; and in the despair of a
+negro reign of terror, still the prophetess and high priestess of a
+people, serene, undismayed, and defiant, she had fitted the uniform of a
+Grand Dragon on her last son, and sewed in secret day and night to equip
+his men. And through it all she was without affectation, her sweet
+motherly ways, gentle manner and bearing always resistless to those who
+came within her influence.
+
+"If he dies," cried the tearful voice, "I shall never forgive myself for
+not surrendering without reserve and fighting his battles with him!"
+
+"He is not dead yet," was the mother's firm answer. "Doctor Cameron is on
+Queen's back. Your lover's men will be riding to-night--these young
+dare-devil Knights of the South, with their life in their hands, a song on
+their lips, and the scorn of death in their souls!"
+
+"Then I'll ride with them," cried the girl, suddenly lifting her head.
+
+Ben stepped into the room, and with a cry of joy Elsie sprang into his
+arms. The mother stood silent until their lips met in the long tender kiss
+of the last surrender of perfect love.
+
+"How did you escape so soon?" she asked quietly, while Elsie's head still
+lay on his breast.
+
+"Phil shot the brute, and I rushed him out of town. He heard the news,
+returned on the special, took my place, and sent me for his father. The
+guard has been changed and it's impossible to see him, or communicate with
+the new Commandant----"
+
+Elsie started and turned pale.
+
+"And father has hidden to avoid me--merciful God--if Phil is
+executed----"
+
+"He isn't dead yet, either," said Ben, slipping his arm around her. "But
+we must save him without a clash or a drop of bloodshed, if possible. The
+fate of our people may hang on this. A battle with United States troops
+now might mean ruin for the South----"
+
+"But you will save him?" Elsie pleaded, looking into his face.
+
+"Yes--or I'll go down with him," was the steady answer.
+
+"Where is Margaret?" he asked.
+
+"Gone to McAllister's with a message from your father," Mrs. Cameron
+replied,
+
+"Tell her when she returns to keep a steady nerve. I'll save Phil. Send
+her to find her father. Tell him to hold five hundred men ready for action
+in the woods by the river and the rest in reserve two miles out of
+town----"
+
+"May I go with her?" Elsie asked eagerly.
+
+"No. I may need you," he said. "I am going to find the old statesman now,
+if I have to drag the bottomless pit. Wait here until I return."
+
+Ben reached the telegraph office unobserved, called the operator at
+Columbia, and got the Grand Giant of the county into the office. Within an
+hour he learned that the death warrant had been received and approved. It
+would be returned by a messenger to Piedmont on the morning train. He
+learned also that any appeal for a stay must be made through the
+Honourable Austin Stoneman, the secret representative of the Government
+clothed with this special power. The execution had been ordered the day of
+the election, to prevent the concentration of any large force bent on
+rescue.
+
+"The old fox!" Ben muttered.
+
+From the Grand Giant at Spartanburg he learned, after a delay of three
+hours, that Stoneman had left with a boy in a buggy, which he had hired
+for three days, and refused to tell his destination. He promised to follow
+and locate him as quickly as possible.
+
+It was the afternoon on the day following, during the progress of the
+election, before Ben received the message from Spartanburg that Stoneman
+had been found at the Old Red Tavern where the roads crossed from Piedmont
+to Hambright. It was only twelve miles away, just over the line on the
+North Carolina side.
+
+He walked with Margaret to the block where Queen stood saddled, watching
+with pride the quiet air of self-control with which she bore herself.
+
+"Now, my sister, you know the way to the tavern. Ride for your
+sweetheart's life. Bring the old man here by five o'clock, and we'll save
+Phil without a fight. Keep your nerve. The Commandant knows a regiment of
+mine is lying in the woods, and he's trying to slip out of town with his
+prisoner. I'll stand by my men ready for a battle at a moment's notice,
+but for God's sake get here in time to prevent it."
+
+She stooped from the saddle, pressed her brother's hand, kissed him, and
+galloped swiftly over the old Way of Romance she knew so well.
+
+On reaching the tavern, the landlord rudely denied that any such man was
+there, and left her standing dazed and struggling to keep back the tears.
+
+A boy of eight, with big wide friendly eyes, slipped into the room, looked
+up into her face tenderly, and said:
+
+"He's the biggest liar in North Carolina. The old man's right upstairs in
+the room over your head. Come on; I'll show you."
+
+Margaret snatched the child in her arms and kissed him.
+
+She knocked in vain for ten minutes. At last she heard his voice within:
+
+"Go away from that door!"
+
+"I'm from Piedmont, sir," cried Margaret, "with an important message from
+the Commandant for you."
+
+"Yes; I saw you come. I will not see you. I know everything, and I will
+hear no appeal."
+
+"But you cannot know of the exchange of men," pleaded the girl.
+
+"I tell you I know all about it. I will not interfere----"
+
+"But you could not be so cruel----"
+
+"The majesty of the law must be vindicated. The judge who consents to the
+execution of a murderer is not cruel. He is showing mercy to Society. Go,
+now; I will not hear you."
+
+In vain Margaret knocked, begged, pleaded, and sobbed.
+
+At last, in a fit of desperation, as she saw the sun sinking lower and the
+precious minutes flying, she hurled her magnificent figure against the
+door and smashed the cheap lock which held it.
+
+The old man sat at the other side of the room, looking out of the window,
+with his massive jaws locked in rage. The girl staggered to his side,
+knelt by his chair, placed her trembling hand on his arm, and begged:
+
+"For the love of Jesus, have mercy! Come with me quickly!"
+
+With a growl of anger, he said:
+
+"No!"
+
+[Illustration: MIRIAM COOPER AS MARGARET CAMERON.]
+
+"It was a mad impulse, in my defence as well as his own."
+
+"Impulse, yes! But back of it lay banked the fires of cruelty and race
+hatred! The Nation cannot live with such barbarism rotting its heart
+out."
+
+"But this is war, sir--a war of races, and this an accident of
+war--besides, his life had been attempted by them twice before."
+
+"So I've heard, and yet the negro always happens to be the victim----"
+
+Margaret leaped to her feet and glared at the old man for a moment in
+uncontrollable anger.
+
+"Are you a fiend?" she fairly shrieked.
+
+Old Stoneman merely pursed his lips.
+
+The girl came a step closer, and extended her hand again in mute appeal.
+
+"No, I was foolish. You are not cruel. I have heard of a hundred acts of
+charity you have done among our poor. Come, this is horrible! It is
+impossible! You cannot consent to the death of your son----"
+
+Stoneman looked up sharply:
+
+"Thank God, he hasn't married my daughter yet----"
+
+"Your daughter!" gasped Margaret. "I've told you it was Phil who killed
+the negro! He took Ben's place just before the guards were exchanged----"
+
+"Phil!--Phil?" shrieked the old man, staggering to his club foot and
+stumbling toward Margaret with dilated eyes and whitening face; "My
+boy--Phil?--why--why, are you crazy?--Phil? Did you say--_Phil_?"
+
+"Yes. Ben persuaded him to go to Charlotte until the excitement passed to
+avoid trouble. Come, come, sir, we must be quick! We may be too late!"
+
+She seized and pulled him toward the door.
+
+"Yes. Yes, we must hurry," he said in a laboured whisper, looking around
+dazed. "You will show me the way, my child--you love him--yes, we will go
+quickly--quickly! my boy--my boy!"
+
+Margaret called the landlord, and while they hitched Queen to the buggy,
+the old man stood helplessly wringing and fumbling his big ugly hands,
+muttering incoherently, and tugging at his collar as though about to
+suffocate.
+
+As they dashed away, old Stoneman laid a trembling hand on Margaret's
+arm.
+
+"Your horse is a good one, my child?"
+
+"Yes; the one Marion saved--the finest in the county."
+
+"And you know the way?"
+
+"Every foot of it. Phil and I have driven it often."
+
+"Yes, yes--you love him," he sighed, pressing her hand.
+
+Through the long reckless drive, as the mare flew over the rough hills,
+every nerve and muscle of her fine body at its utmost tension, the father
+sat silent. He braced his club foot against the iron bar of the dashboard
+and gripped the sides of the buggy to steady his feeble body. Margaret
+leaned forward intently watching the road to avoid an accident. The old
+man's strange colourless eyes stared straight in front, wide open, and
+seeing nothing, as if the soul had already fled through them into
+eternity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+"VENGEANCE IS MINE"
+
+
+It was dark long before Margaret and Stoneman reached Piedmont. A mile out
+of town a horse neighed in the woods, and, tired as she was, Queen threw
+her head high and answered the call.
+
+The old man did not notice it, but Margaret knew a squadron of
+white-and-scarlet horsemen stood in those woods, and her heart gave a
+bound of joy.
+
+As they passed the Presbyterian church, she saw through the open window
+her father standing at his Elder's seat leading in prayer. They were
+holding a watch service, asking God for victory in the eventful struggle
+of the day.
+
+Margaret attempted to drive straight to the jail, and a sentinel stopped
+them.
+
+"I am Stoneman, sir--the real commander of these troops," said the old
+man, with authority.
+
+"Orders is orders, and I don't take 'em from you," was the answer.
+
+"Then tell your commander that Mr. Stoneman has just arrived from
+Spartanburg and asks to see him at the hotel immediately."
+
+He hobbled into the parlour and waited in agony while Margaret tied the
+mare. Ben, her mother and father, and every servant were gone.
+
+In a few moments the second officer hurried to Stoneman, saluted, and
+said:
+
+"We've pulled it off in good shape, sir. They've tried to fool us with a
+dozen tricks, and a whole regiment has been lying in wait for us all day.
+But at dark the Captain outwitted them, took his prisoner with a squad of
+picked cavalry, and escaped their pickets. They've been gone an hour, and
+ought to be back with the body----"
+
+Old Stoneman sprang on him with the sudden fury of a madman, clutching at
+his throat.
+
+"If you've killed my son," he gasped--"go--go! Follow them with a swift
+messenger and stop them! It's a mistake--you're killing the wrong
+man--you're killing my boy--quick--my God, quick--don't stand there
+staring at me!"
+
+The officer rushed to obey his order as Margaret entered.
+
+The old man seized her arm, and said with laboured breath:
+
+"Your father, my child, ask him to come to me quickly."
+
+Margaret hurried to the church, and an usher called the doctor to the
+door.
+
+He read the question trembling on the girl's lips.
+
+"Nothing has happened yet, my daughter. Your brother has held a regiment
+of his men in readiness every moment of the day."
+
+"Mr. Stoneman is at the hotel and asks to see you immediately," she
+whispered.
+
+"God grant he may prevent bloodshed," said the father. "Go inside and stay
+with your mother."
+
+When Doctor Cameron entered the parlour Stoneman hobbled painfully to meet
+him, his face ashen, and his breath rattling in his throat as if his soul
+were being strangled.
+
+"You are my enemy, Doctor," he said, taking his hand, "but you are a pious
+man. I have been called an infidel--I am only a wilful sinner--I have
+slain my own son, unless God Almighty, who can raise the dead, shall save
+him! You are the man at whom I aimed the blow that has fallen on my head.
+I wish to confess to you and set myself right before God. He may hear my
+cry, and have mercy on me."
+
+He gasped for breath, sank into his seat, looked around, and said:
+
+"Will you close the door?"
+
+The doctor complied with his request and returned.
+
+"We all wear masks, Doctor," began the trembling voice. "Beneath lie the
+secrets of love and hate from which actions move. My will alone forged the
+chains of negro rule. Three forces moved me--party success, a vicious
+woman, and the quenchless desire for personal vengeance. When I first fell
+a victim to the wiles of the yellow vampire who kept my house, I dreamed
+of lifting her to my level. And when I felt myself sinking into the black
+abyss of animalism, I, whose soul had learned the pathway of the stars and
+held high converse with the great spirits of the ages----"
+
+He paused, looked up in terror, and whispered:
+
+"What's that noise? Isn't it the distant beat of horses' hoofs?"
+
+"No," said the doctor, listening; "it's the roar of the falls we hear,
+from a sudden change of the wind."
+
+"I'm done now," Stoneman went on, slowly fumbling his hands. "My life has
+been a failure. The dice of God are always loaded."
+
+His great head drooped lower, and he continued:
+
+"Mightiest of all was my motive of revenge. Fierce business and political
+feuds wrecked my iron mills. I shouldered their vast debts, and paid the
+last mortgage of a hundred thousand dollars the week before Lee invaded my
+State. I stood on the hill in the darkness, cried, raved, cursed, while I
+watched the troops lay those mills in ashes. Then and there I swore that
+I'd live until I ground the South beneath my heel! When I got back to my
+house they had buried a Confederate soldier in the field. I dug his body
+up, carted it to the woods, and threw it into a ditch----"
+
+The hand of the white-haired Southerner suddenly gripped old Stoneman's
+throat--and then relaxed. His head sank on his breast, and he cried in
+anguish:
+
+"God be merciful to me a sinner! Would I, too, seek revenge!"
+
+Stoneman looked at the doctor, dazed by his sudden onslaught and
+collapse.
+
+"Yes, he was somebody's boy down here," he went on, "who was loved perhaps
+even as I love--I don't blame you. See, in the inside pocket next to my
+heart I carry the pictures of Phil and Elsie taken from babyhood up, all
+set in a little book. They don't know this--nor does the world dream I've
+been so soft-hearted----"
+
+He drew a miniature album from his pocket and fumbled it aimlessly:
+
+"You know Phil was my first-born----"
+
+His voice broke, and he looked at the doctor helplessly.
+
+The Southerner slipped his arm around the old man's shoulders and began a
+tender and reverent prayer.
+
+The sudden thunder of a squad of cavalry with clanking sabres swept by the
+hotel toward the jail.
+
+Stoneman scrambled to his feet, staggered, and caught a chair.
+
+"It's no use," he groaned, "--they've come with his body--I'm slipping
+down--the lights are going out--I haven't a friend! It's dark and
+cold--I'm alone, and lost--God--has--hidden--His--face--from--me!"
+
+Voices were heard without, and the tramp of heavy feet on the steps.
+
+Stoneman clutched the doctor's arm in agony:
+
+"Stop them!--Stop them! Don't let them bring him in here!"
+
+He sank limp into the chair and stared at the door as it swung open and
+Phil walked in, with Ben and Elsie by his side, in full clansman
+disguise.
+
+The old man leaped to his feet and gasped:
+
+"The Klan!--The Klan! No? Yes! It's true--glory to God, they've saved my
+boy--Phil--Phil!"
+
+"How did you rescue him?" Doctor Cameron asked Ben.
+
+"Had a squadron lying in wait on every road that led from town. The
+Captain thought a thousand men were on him, and surrendered without a
+shot."
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+At twelve o'clock Ben stood at the gate with Elsie.
+
+"Your fate hangs in the balance of this election to-night," she said.
+"I'll share it with you, success or failure, life or death."
+
+"Success, not failure," he answered firmly. "The Grand Dragons of six
+States have already wired victory. Look at our lights on the mountains!
+They are ablaze--range on range our signals gleam until the Fiery Cross is
+lost among the stars!"
+
+"What does it mean?" she whispered.
+
+"That I am a successful revolutionist--that Civilization has been saved,
+and the South redeemed from shame."
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Clansman, by Thomas Dixon
+
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