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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40541 ***
+
++-------------------------------------------------+
+|Transcriber's note:                              |
+|                                                 |
+|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.  |
+|                                                 |
++-------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER
+
+OR,
+
+THE TOMPKINS MYSTERY.
+
+_A Story of the Great American Rebellion._
+
+
+BY JOHN R. MUSICK,
+
+_Author of "The Banker of Bedford," "Orland Hyde,"
+"Calamity Row," Etc._
+
+(COPYRIGHT, 1887, BY J. S. OGILVIE & CO.)
+
+FIRESIDE SERIES, No. 28. JULY, 1887.
+Issued Monthly, Subscription, $3 per year.
+Entered at New York Post-Office as second-class matter.
+
+J. S. OGILVIE & COMPANY,
+57 Rose Street, New York; 79 Wabash Ave., Chicago.
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF POPULAR NOVELS
+
+CONTAINED IN THE FIRESIDE SERIES,
+
+The Cover of which is Printed in Colors, and is very attractive. Each
+one contains from 200 to 480 pages.
+
+
+No. 1. The Mohawks, by Miss M. E. Braddon.
+ "  2. Lady Valworth's Diamonds, by the Duchess.
+ "  3. A House Party, by Ouida.
+ "  4. At Bay, by Mrs. Alexander.
+ "  5. Adventures of an Old Maid, by Belle C. Greene.
+ "  6. Vice Versa, by F. Anstey.
+ "  7. In Prison and Out, by Hesba Stretton.
+ "  8. A Broken Heart, by author of Dora Thorne.
+ "  9. A False Vow, by author of Dora Thorne.
+ " 10. Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, by Nancy Hartshorn.
+ " 11. Beaton's Bargain, by Mrs. Alexander.
+ " 12. Mrs. Hopkins on her Travels, by Mrs. Hopkins herself.
+ " 13. A Guilty River, by Wilkie Collins.
+ " 14. By Woman's Wit, by Mrs. Alexander.
+ " 15. "She," by H. Rider Haggard.
+ " 16. The Witch's Head, by H. Rider Haggard.
+ " 17. King Solomon's Mines, by H. Rider Haggard.
+ " 18. Jess, by H. Rider Haggard.
+ " 19. The Merry Men, by R. L. Stevenson.
+ " 20. Miss Jones' Quilting, by Josiah Allen's Wife.
+ " 21. Secrets of Success, by J. W. Donovan.
+ " 22. Drops of Blood, by Lily Curry.
+ " 23. Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
+ " 24. Dawn, by H. Rider Haggard.
+ " 25. Me. A companion to "She."
+ " 26. East Lynne, by Mrs. Henry Wood.
+ " 27. Allan Quartermain, by H. Rider Haggard.
+ " 28. Brother against Brother. A Story of the Rebellion,
+         by John R. Musick.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+CHAPTER.                                         PAGE.
+     I. In the Stage-Coach and at the Inn,           5
+
+    II. A New Arrival,                              17
+
+   III. Dinner Talk,                                28
+
+    IV. More of the Mystery,                        36
+
+     V. The Mud Man,                                46
+
+    VI. A Transition Period,                        52
+
+   VII. The Election and the Result,                62
+
+  VIII. Mr. Diggs in a New Field,                   69
+
+    IX. The Chasm Opens,                            81
+
+     X. The Beginning of Soldier Life,              89
+
+    XI. Mr. Tompkins' Peril,                       102
+
+   XII. Foraging,                                  108
+
+  XIII. Uncle Dan Means Business,                  114
+
+   XIV. Mrs. Juniper Entertains,                   120
+
+    XV. Mr. Diggs Again in Trouble,                127
+
+   XVI. Yellow Steve,                              143
+
+  XVII. A Soldier's Turkey Hunt,                   151
+
+ XVIII. Mr. Tompkins Receives Strange News,        158
+
+   XIX. Irene's Dilemma--The Brothers Meet,        162
+
+    XX. War in the Neighborhood,                   174
+
+   XXI. Crazy Joe's Mistake,                       182
+
+  XXII. Diggs Gets out of His Scrape Again,        193
+
+ XXIII. The Abduction,                             201
+
+  XXIV. He is My Husband. Oh, Spare His Life,      209
+
+   XXV. At Home Again,                             219
+
+  XXVI. Another Phase of Soldier Life,             223
+
+ XXVII. A Prisoner,                                227
+
+XXVIII. Olivia,                                    231
+
+  XXIX. The Alarm--The Manuscript,                 236
+
+   XXX. Yellow Steve's Mysterious Story,           242
+
+  XXXI. The Reconciliation,                        247
+
+
+
+
+BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN THE STAGE-COACH AND AT THE INN.
+
+
+Thick, misty clouds overcast the sky; peals of thunder in the distance
+came rolling nearer and nearer, until they burst into one prolonged roar
+just above a lumbering old stage-coach slowly making its way over the
+muddy roads of a Virginia post route, the driver incessantly cracking
+his long whip over the backs of his jaded horses, and urging them, with
+shouts and exclamations, to accelerate their speed.
+
+This scene occurs in what is now West Virginia. It is west of the
+mountain range, but where, on every hand, are frowning precipices, deep
+gorges and swift-flowing torrents. On the right, the jutting headlands
+are crowned with huge old bowlders, just peeping out from the thicket of
+evergreens and creeping vines which surround them. Although not called
+mountainous, it is a country whose picturesque heights and umbrageous
+valleys would excite a degree of enthusiasm in the bosom of a lover of
+the beautiful. Down in those lonely valleys, almost hidden in their
+leafy groves, was the home of many an old Virginia aristocrat. The
+great, gnarled oak standing upon the verge of some miniature precipice,
+and glooming sullenly through the misty rain, seems but part of some
+pictured scene. Far in the distance, faintly penciled against the misty
+sky, rise headlands to what seems an enormous height, about them a dark
+mass of clouds, like some giant's garment caught upon the peaks and
+blown about at the will of the wind. It envelops and conceals the
+highest peaks, leaving the imagination to add to the belief in their
+stupendous height.
+
+It has been raining all day, and the driver of the stage-coach is
+anxious to reach his destination.
+
+"Gee-up! If we don't git to Lander's Hill before dark, I be hanged if we
+don't stick there for the night," he exclaimed.
+
+The stage-coach moves slowly along, and the shades of evening are
+closing in. Six or seven passengers are seated within, and are about as
+uncomfortable as stage-coach travelers could well be. There is but a
+single lady among them, and the chivalric spirit of the Southron has
+assigned to her the most comfortable place in the coach. We are
+interested in but one of these travelers, a man about forty-five or
+fifty years of age, something over medium size, whose appearance stamped
+him as a well-to-do Virginia planter. His face was smooth-shaven, and
+his hair, once dark, was silvered with the flight of years. His was a
+handsome face, and a pleasant one to look upon; there was something
+pleasing and attractive about its expression, and the mild gray eyes
+burned with no ambitious designs or fiery passions; his dress was plain
+gray homespun, commonly worn as the traveling dress of a Southerner at
+the time of which we write. His hat was of the finest silk,
+broad-brimmed and low-crowned, such as Southern planters invariably
+wore. Though unostentatious in manner, he was evidently a man accustomed
+to the manifold comforts of Southern life. He was, moreover, a man
+accustomed to looking at both sides of a question, and arriving at
+conclusions without bias or prejudice. His frame was a fine type of
+manhood, and his muscular arms showed him possessed of more than an
+ordinary degree of strength.
+
+This man alone of all the passengers maintained a silent and thoughtful
+mood as the coach passed on its way. A constant conversation was kept up
+by the other passengers on the weather, the roads, the journey, its
+termination, and last, but not least, the politics of the day. However,
+while the gentleman whom we have more particularly described, and now
+introduce to our readers as George W. Tompkins, of Virginia, sat moody
+and silent, and seemingly utterly oblivious of the discomforts within
+or the gloomy prospect without, his fellow passengers were continually
+talking, and continually jostling against him, without rousing Mr.
+Tompkins from his reverie.
+
+His mind was clouded by a horror that made him careless of present
+surroundings. He looked worn and weary, more so than any of the other
+passengers, and occasionally, when the coach rolled over smooth ground,
+he would lean back in his seat and close his eyes. No sooner done,
+however, than a thousand fantastic shapes would glide before his mental
+vision, that seemed to take delight in annoying him. Whenever he became
+unconscious to his real surroundings, shrieks seemed to sound in his
+ear, and he seemed to hear the cry:
+
+"Search, search, search! Your task's not over, your task's not over!"
+
+"And where shall I search?" he mentally asked.
+
+"Ah, where?" the voice wailed.
+
+Then the planter would rouse himself, and glance at the passengers and
+out of the window in the endeavor to keep his mind free from the
+annoyances. For a few moments he would succeed, but days and nights of
+exertion, horror and excitement were telling upon him; once more he
+would succumb and once more the fantastic shadows thronged about him,
+and the voice, mingling strangely with the grating roar of the coach's
+wheels, smote on his ear:
+
+"Search, search, search! Your task's not over! Your task's not over!"
+
+"Where shall I search?"
+
+"Ah, where?"
+
+"You don't seem to be well, friend," remarked a fellow-traveler,
+observing the startled and restless manner of Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Yes, I am well; that is--no, I am not; I am somewhat wearied," Mr.
+Tompkins answered.
+
+"So are we all," rejoined the passenger. "This journey has been enough
+to wear out men of iron, and the prospects for the night are far from
+cheering."
+
+"I had expected to reach home to-night," said the planter, "but I shall
+fail by a good dozen miles."
+
+"You live in this State?"
+
+"Yes, sir," answered Mr. Tompkins, settling himself in his corner.
+
+The gentleman, evidently a Southern man, seeing that Mr. Tompkins was
+indisposed to carry on any further conversation, relapsed into silence.
+With another effort Mr. Tompkins conquered the stupor which, with all
+its fantastic concomitants, was once more overcoming him, and sat bolt
+upright in his seat.
+
+"This has been a fearful week," he soliloquized, "but I have done all I
+could."
+
+The gentleman by his side, catching the last part of the remark, and
+supposing it had reference to the present journey, remarked:
+
+"Yes, it is not the fault of the passengers, but of the managers of this
+line. They should be prepared for such emergencies, and have a supply of
+fresh horses."
+
+Observing that his exclamation, though misinterpreted, had arrested
+attention, Mr. Tompkins, to guard against its recurrence, lest he should
+divulge the subject of his disturbed thoughts, aroused himself and
+resisted, with determination, the stupor that was overcoming him. It was
+while thus combating the fatigue that weighed him down that the
+stage-coach came to a very sudden stop.
+
+The driver, pressing his face to the aperture at the top of the coach,
+cried out:
+
+"Here we are at Lander's Hill, and I be hanged if the hosses are able to
+drag ye all up. They are completely fagged out, so I guess ye men
+folks'll hev to hoof it to the top, an' occasionally give us a push, or
+we'll stick here until mornin'."
+
+"How far is it to where we can stop over night?" asked the passenger who
+had endeavored to draw Mr. Tompkins into conversation.
+
+"After we git on top of the hill it's only 'bout three miles to Jerry
+Lycan's inn, where we'll stop for the night, an' it's down hill 'most
+all the way," replied the driver.
+
+With much grumbling and many imprecations on the heads of the managers
+of the stage line, the passengers clambered out of the coach. A long,
+muddy hill, in places quite steep, lay before them. It was nearly half a
+mile to the top, and portions of the road were scarcely passable even
+in good weather.
+
+"These are public roads in Virginia!" exclaimed one gentleman, as he
+alighted in the mud.
+
+"We can't have railroads to every place," essayed a fellow-traveler,
+evidently a Virginian; "but you will find our soil good."
+
+"Yes, good for sticking purposes," said the first speaker, trying to
+shake some of the mud from his boots; "I never saw soil with greater
+adhesive qualities."
+
+"Now look 'ee," said the driver, "we'll hev some purty smart jogs, where
+the hosses 'll not be able to pull up, and you'll hev to put your
+shoulders agin the coach an' give us a push."
+
+"May I be blessed!" ejaculated the Southerner. "They are not even
+content to make us walk, but want us to draw the coach."
+
+"Better to do that an' hev a coach at the top to ride in than to walk
+three miles," said the driver.
+
+After allowing his horses a brief rest, the driver cracked his whip and
+the lumbering coach moved on, the passengers slowly plodding along
+behind. None seemed pleased with the prospect of a walk up the long,
+muddy hill, but the grumbling Southerner manifested a more decided
+repugnance than either of the others.
+
+"This is worse than wading through Carolina swamps waist deep," he
+exclaimed, as he trudged along, dragging his weary feet and
+mud-freighted boots after him.
+
+The coach had not proceeded more than a dozen rods when it came to one
+of the "jogs" in the hill alluded to by the driver. "Now help here, or
+we'll stick sure. Git up!" cried the driver, and the poor, tired horses
+nerved themselves for the extra effort required of them. The ascent here
+was both steep and slippery, and it required the united strength of
+horses and passengers to pass the coach over the place.
+
+Here the passengers discovered the prodigious strength which lay in the
+broad shoulders of Mr. Tompkins. Not a murmur had escaped his lips when
+required to walk up the hill, and he was the first to place his shoulder
+to the wheel to push the coach over the difficult passage. To still
+further increase the discomforts of their position they were thoroughly
+drenched by a passing shower which overtook them before they reach the
+summit of the hill. Here they again climbed into the coach, and resuming
+their seats, were whirled along through the gathering darkness toward
+the inn.
+
+Old Jerry Lycan stood on the long porch of his old-fashioned Virginia
+tavern, and peered down the road through the gloom. It had been dark but
+a few moments. The old man's ears caught the sound of wheels coming down
+the road, and he knew the stage was not far off.
+
+"The roads are just awful," said the landlord, "and no wonder it is
+belated."
+
+The night was intensely dark; not a star was to be seen in the sky; an
+occasional flash of lightning momentarily lit up surrounding objects,
+only to render the blackness more complete. Far down the road the old
+man's eyes caught a glimpse of the coach-lights bobbing up and down as
+the ponderous vehicle oscillated over the rough roads. Approaching
+slowly, like a wearied thing of life, the cumbrous stage at last
+appeared, made visible only by its own lamps, which the driver had
+lighted. The splashing of six horses along the miry roads and the dull
+rolling of the huge wheels made the vehicle heard long before it was
+seen.
+
+"Rube haint no outside passengers to-night," said the landlord, seeing
+that the top seats of the coach were vacant. "'Spose nobody'd want to
+ride out in the rain."
+
+"Here ye are at Lycan's inn," called out the driver to the inmates of
+the coach as he reined in his weary horses in front of the roadside
+tavern.
+
+Uncle Jerry as he was called, with his old, perforated tin lantern, came
+to open the stage door and show his guests into the house. Rube, the
+driver, tossing the reins to the stable-boy, climbed down from his lofty
+perch, and went into the bar-room to get "something hot" to warm his
+benumbed body.
+
+The landlord brought the wet and weary men into the room, where a great
+fire was blazing, and promised that supper should be ready by the time
+they were dry. The Southerner declared that he was much too dry within,
+though he was dripping wet without. Uncle Jerry smiling invited him
+into the bar-room. The Southerner needed no second invitation, and soon
+returned, saying that Virginia inns were not so bad after all.
+
+The lady had been shown to a private apartment, while the gentlemen were
+attempting to dry their clothing by the fire in the public room. The
+Southerner, who had been in much better humor since his visit to the
+bar, seemed now to look very philosophically upon his soaking and other
+inconveniences of travel.
+
+Our planter, Mr. Tompkins, sat in front of the pile of blazing logs,
+gazing at the bright, panoramic pictures constantly forming there.
+Sleeping or waking, darkness of the stage-coach and in those glowing
+embers, he saw but one picture, and its horrors were constantly haunting
+his mind.
+
+The other guests talked and laughed while their soaked clothes were
+drying, but Mr. Tompkins was silent, whether sitting or standing. Almost
+before their clothes were dry supper was announced, and they all
+repaired to the long, low dining room and seated themselves at the
+table. The supper, plain and substantial, was just suited to the needs
+of the hungry guests.
+
+The evening meal over, they returned to the sitting room. The Southerner
+had lit a cigar, and kept up a constant flow of conversation.
+
+"Virginia is too near the Free-soilers," he said, evidently directing
+his remarks to Mr. Tompkins; "don't they come over here and steal your
+niggers?"
+
+"They never have," Mr. Tompkins answered.
+
+"I take it for granted you own slaves?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I have a number on my plantation, and never have had one
+stolen yet."
+
+"Don't the 'Barnburners,' 'Wooly Heads' and Abolitionists from Ohio and
+Pennsylvania come over here and steal them away?"
+
+"They have never taken any from me."
+
+"Well, that's a wonder. I know a number of good men on the border who
+find it impossible to keep niggers at all."
+
+"Perhaps they are not good masters," said Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"They were the best of masters, and they lost their niggers, though
+they guarded them with watchful overseers and bloodhounds."
+
+"But do you think that a good master needs to guard his slaves with
+armed overseers and dogs?" said Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Of course," the Carolinian answered; "how else would you keep the black
+rascals in subjection? Are we not horrified almost every week by reports
+of some of their outrages? Swamps and canebrakes have become the haunts
+of runaway blacks, who, having murdered their master, seek to wreck
+vengeance on innocent children or women."
+
+Mr. Tompkins started at these assertions, as though he felt a pang at
+his heart.
+
+"My friend, what you say is true, too true," he said; "but is the master
+always blameless? The negro possesses feelings, and even a beast may be
+goaded to madness. Is it not an unrighteous system which is crushing and
+cursing our beloved country?"
+
+"What system?"
+
+"Slavery."
+
+"Why, sir, you are a singular slave-holder," cried the Southerner. "Are
+you going to turn a Martin Van Buren and join the Free-soilers?"
+
+"There is a great deal in that question, sir, outside of politics. I
+believe in slavery, else I would not own a slave; but, if our slaves are
+to be treated as animals, it were better if the institution were
+abolished."
+
+"How would you treat them?"
+
+"Discharge the overseers, to begin with."
+
+"I am sure, you would fail."
+
+"The plan has succeeded well on my plantation," said Mr. Tompkins, "and
+I do not own a single negro who would not die for me."
+
+Here were met two men, both believing in the institution of human
+slavery, but carrying out its principles, how differently! The one with
+cool Northern blood and kindly feelings, advocating a humane mode of
+ruling the helpless being in his power. The other, representing the
+extreme type of refined cruelty and oppression. The mind of the one grew
+more and more in harmony with the idea of abolition, while the other
+came to hate, with all the fierceness of his Southern heart, the idea of
+universal freedom; became willing, even, to strike at that flag which
+had failed to protect his interests and his opinions.
+
+The date at which we write was directly after the election and
+inauguration of Taylor as President of the United States. The opposition
+to human slavery had steadily been gaining ground, regardless of taunts
+and sneers, and the ranks of the Abolitionists were hourly on the
+increase. Slavery was peculiarly a selfish institution. It is folly to
+say that only men born and reared in the South could be numbered among
+the upholders of this "peculiar institution," for many Northern men went
+South and purchased plantations and slaves, and in 1861 many of these
+enlisted on the Confederate side, and fought under the Confederate flag,
+not from principle, but from self-interest.
+
+Mr. Tompkins, who was Northern born, believed in slavery simply because
+he owned slaves, and not from any well defined principle. Even now the
+same conflict that later convulsed the Nation was raging in his
+heart--the conflict between self-interest and the right. Press and
+pulpit, the lecturer's rostrum and the novelist's pen, had almost
+wrought out the doom of slavery, when the politician took up the stormy
+dispute.
+
+The discussion in the Virginia inn was warm but friendly, the Carolinian
+declaring that God and Nature had ordained the negro for slavery; that
+his diet should be the ash-cake, his stimulant the whip, his reward for
+obedience a blanket and a hut, his punishment for rebellion chains and
+death. Doubtless his passion over-reached his judgment in the heat of
+argument, and his brain, perhaps, was not so cool since his visit to the
+bar-room.
+
+"My dear sir," Mr. Tompkins finally said, hoping to end the discussion,
+which was drawing to them the attention of all, "the policy you suggest
+will, I fear, plunge our whole country into trouble. Few men are born
+rulers, and history has never shown one successful who ruled by harsh
+measures only. Admitting that a negro is not a rational being, kindness
+with a beast can accomplish more than harshness. It is cruel masters who
+make runaway slaves. The parting of parent and child, husband and wife,
+torn ruthlessly asunder, never to see each other again, will make even a
+negro furious. I fear, sir, that slavery is a bad institution, but it is
+firmly established among us, and I see no way at present to get rid of
+it."
+
+The other guests at Jerry Lycan's inn had gathered in groups of two and
+three, and were listening silently to the differing views of these two
+upholders of slavery, for there were factions in those days among the
+slavery men. The landlord had entered the room, and, being a politician
+himself, drank in the discussion with deepest interest.
+
+Just as the argument was at its height the outer door of the inn opened
+and a boy, wild-eyed, but handsome, entered. A glance at the strangely
+wild eyes and disheveled hair convinced all present that he was insane.
+He was about twelve years of age, with a slender figure and a
+well-shaped head, but some great shock had unseated his reason. His
+mania was of a mild, harmless type. Walking directly up to Mr. Tompkins,
+he said:
+
+"Have you seen my father? You look very much like my father, but I know
+he has not yet come into Egypt."
+
+The voice was so plaintive and sad that it touched at once the hearts of
+all, and happily put an end to the conversation.
+
+"Who is your father?" asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Jacob is my father. I am his favorite son. My brothers sold me a slave
+into Egypt, and told my father I had been slain by wild beasts. Have you
+seen my father?"
+
+"He is crazy. Humor him, say something to him," whispered the landlord.
+
+"Your father is not yet ready to come into Egypt," said Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"And my brother Benjamin--did you see him?" the lad asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is the famine sore in the land where my father dwells?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And does he suffer--is he old? Oh, yes, I remember; my father must be
+dead." He seated himself on a low stool by the fireside, and, bowing his
+head in his hands, seemed lost in thought.
+
+"He does that twenty times a day," said the landlord.
+
+"Who is he?" asked one of the travelers, "and where does he come from?"
+
+"He has been here only a few days, and I know nothing about him. His
+first question was, 'Have you seen my father Jacob?'"
+
+"Have you tried to find out about him?" asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Yes, but to no purpose," answered Uncle Jerry. "He came one morning and
+said he was fleeing from Potiphar's wrath. After inquiring for his
+father, he remained silent for some time. I tried to find where he came
+from, but no one knows and he can not tell. I should judge by the
+clothes he wore that he was from the South, and, from the worn condition
+of his shoes, that he came a great way. He is of some respectable
+family, for he has been well educated, and I fancy it's too much book
+learning that has turned the boy's head. He talks of Plato and Socrates
+and Aristotle, and all the ancient philosophers, and his familiarity
+with historical events shows him to have been a student; but he always
+imagines that he is Joseph."
+
+"Where does he live?" asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Oh, he stays here at the inn, and shows no disposition to leave. He
+makes himself useful by helping the stable-boy and carries in fuel,
+imagining himself a servant of the high priest."
+
+"Has he lucid intervals?" asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"No, not what could be called lucid intervals. Once he said to a girl in
+the kitchen that it was books that made his head dizzy, and said
+something of a home a great ways off, from which he had fled to escape
+great violence. They hoped then to clear up the mystery, but the next
+moment his mind wandered again and he was Joseph sold into Egypt,
+bewailing his father Jacob and his brother Benjamin."
+
+"What is his name?" asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"We can't get any other name than Joseph, and the boys here call him
+Crazy Joe."
+
+"His malady may be curable; have you consulted a physician about it?"
+inquired the Californian, who was very much interested in the strange
+case.
+
+"Yes, sir; a doctor from the State Lunatic Asylum was here day before
+yesterday, but he pronounced him incurable."
+
+"Could not the doctor tell how long he had been in this condition?"
+asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Not with certainty, but thought it only a few weeks or months. He said
+he had probably escaped from his guard and ran away."
+
+At this moment the subject of conversation rose from the low stool and
+looked about with a vacant stare.
+
+"Do you want to go home to your parents?" Mr. Tompkins asked.
+
+"When the famine is sore in the land they will come for me."
+
+"Why did you run away?"
+
+"My brothers sold me to the merchants with their camels. They made my
+father believe I was killed, and brought me here and sold me; but I know
+it is written that my brother Benjamin will come and bring my father to
+me."
+
+"Is it not written that Jacob did go down into Egypt with his whole
+family, and that he wept on Joseph's neck, and said he was willing to
+die?" said Mr. Tompkins, to lead him out of this strange hallucination.
+
+"Yes, yes--oh, yes!" the boy cried, eagerly.
+
+"Did not Moses deliver the children of Israel from bondage long after
+Jacob's death?"
+
+"I remember now that he did," said Joe.
+
+"Then how can you be Joseph, when he died three or four thousand years
+ago?"
+
+The boy reflected a moment, and then said:
+
+"Who can I be, if I am not Joseph?"
+
+"Some one who imagines himself Joseph," said Mr. Tompkins. "Now, try to
+think who you really are and where you came from."
+
+"I am not Socrates, for he drank the hemlock and died, nor am I Julius
+Caesar, for he was killed by Brutus," the poor lunatic replied.
+
+"Try to think what was your father's name," persisted Mr. Tompkins,
+hoping to discover something.
+
+"My father's name was Jacob, and I was sold a slave into Egypt by my
+brothers; but there must be something wrong; my father must be dead."
+
+Again he seated himself on the low stool and buried his face in his
+hands.
+
+"It's no use," said the landlord; "that's as near as you'll ever come to
+knowing who he is from him. I have advertised him in the Pittsburg
+daily, but no one has come yet to claim him."
+
+"A very strange hallucination," said the Carolinian. "Is he always
+mild?"
+
+"Yes; he is never cross or sullen, and seems delighted with children. He
+answers them in many ways."
+
+It was growing late, and the weary travelers were ready to go to bed.
+The landlord assisted by Crazy Joe and another boy, took lighted candles
+to the various rooms for the guests.
+
+By the combined aid of a good supper, a warm discussion on slavery, and
+his interest in the insane boy, Mr. Tompkins had succeeded in fighting
+away the legion of gloomy thoughts that harassed his mind, and a few
+minutes after retiring was sleeping peacefully.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+A NEW ARRIVAL.
+
+
+Forty years ago a Virginia planter was a king, his broad acres his
+kingdom, his wife his queen, his children heirs to his throne, and his
+slaves his subjects. True, it was a petty kingdom and he but a petty
+monarch; but, as a rule, petty monarchs are tyrannical, and the Southern
+planter was not always an exception. In those days men were measured,
+not by moral worth, mental power, or physical stature, but by the number
+of acres and slaves they owned. The South has never possessed that
+sturdy class of yeomanry that has achieved wonders in the North. Before
+the war labor was performed by slaves, now it is done by hired help, the
+farmer himself there seldom cultivating his soil.
+
+The home of Mr. George W. Tompkins, our acquaintance, was a marvel of
+beauty and taste. Located in the Northwestern portion of the State,
+before its division, it was just where the heat of the South was
+delightfully tempered by the cool winds of the North. No valley in all
+Virginia was more lovely. To the east were hills which might delight any
+mountain lover, all clothed and fringed with delicate evergreens,
+through which could be caught occasional glimpses of precipitous bald
+rocks. Over the heights the sun climbed every morning to illuminate the
+valley below with a radiance of glory. Mountain cascades came tumbling
+and plunging from mossy retreats to swell a clear pebble-strewn stream
+which afforded the finest trout to be found in the entire State.
+
+The great mansion, built after the old Virginia plan, with a long stone
+piazza in front, stood on an eminence facing the post-road, which ran
+within a few rods of it. The house was substantial, heavy columns,
+painted white as marble, supporting the porch, and quaint, old-fashioned
+gables, about which the swallows twittered, breaking the lines of the
+roof. In the front yard grew the beech and elm and chestnut tree, their
+wide-spreading branches indicating an existence for centuries. A little
+below the structure, and south-west from it, was a colony of low, small
+buildings, where dwelt the slaves of Mr. Tompkins. One or two were
+nearer, and in these the domestics lived. These were a higher order of
+servants than the field-hands, and they never let an opportunity pass to
+assert their superiority over their fellow slaves.
+
+Socially, as well as geographically, Mr. Tompkins' home combined the
+extremes of the North and South. He, with his calm face and mild gray
+eyes, was a native of the green hills of New Hampshire, while his
+dark-eyed wife was a daughter of sunny Georgia.
+
+Mrs. Tompkins was the only child of a wealthy Georgia planter. Mr.
+Tompkins had met her first in Atlanta, where he was spending the Winter
+with a class-mate, both having graduated at Yale the year before. Their
+meeting grew into intimacy, from intimacy it ripened into love. Shortly
+after the marriage of his daughter, his only child, the planter
+exchanged his property for more extensive possessions in Virginia, but
+he never occupied this new home. He and his wife were in New Orleans,
+when the dread malady, yellow-fever, seized upon them, and they died
+before their daughter or her husband could go to them.
+
+Mr. Tompkins, a man who had always been opposed to slavery, thus found
+himself the owner of a large plantation in Virginia, and more than a
+hundred slaves. There seemed to be no other alternative, and he accepted
+the situation, and tried, by being a humane master, to conciliate his
+wounded conscience for being a master at all.
+
+He and his only brother, Henry, had inherited a large and valuable
+property from their father, in their native State. His brother, like
+himself, had gone South and married a planter's daughter, and become a
+large slave-holder. He was a far different man from his brother.
+Naturally overbearing and cruel, he seemed to possess none of the
+other's kindness of heart or cool, dispassionate reason. He was a hard
+task-master, and no "fire-eating" Southerner ever exercised his power
+more remorselessly than he, and no one hated the Abolition party more
+cordially. But it is not with Henry Tompkins we have to deal at present.
+
+It was near noon the day after the travelers reached Jerry Lycan's inn.
+Mrs. Tompkins sat on the piazza, looking down the road that led to the
+village. She was one of those Southern beauties who attract at a first
+glance; her eyes large, and dark, and brilliant; her hair soft and
+glossy, like waves of lustrous silk. Of medium height, though not quite
+so slender as when younger, her form was faultless. Her cheek had the
+olive tint of the South, and as she reclined with indolent grace in her
+easy chair, one little foot restlessly tapping the carpet on which it
+rested, she looked a very queen.
+
+The Tompkins mansion was the grandest for many miles around, and the
+whole plantation bore evidence of the taste and judgment of its owner.
+There seemed to be nothing, from the crystal fountain splashing in front
+of the white-pillared dwelling to the vast fields of corn, wheat and
+tobacco stretching far into the back-ground, which did not add to the
+beauty of the place.
+
+On the north were barns, immense and well filled granaries and stables.
+Then came tobacco houses, covering acres of ground. One would hardly
+have suspected the plain, unpretentious Mr. Tompkins as being the
+possessor of all this wealth. But his house held his greatest
+treasures--two bright little boys, aged respectively nine and seven
+years.
+
+Abner, the elder, had bright blue eyes and the clear Saxon complexion of
+his father. Oleah, the younger, was of the same dark Southern type as
+his mother. They were two such children as even a Roman mother might
+have been proud to call her jewels. Bright and affectionate, they
+yielded a quick obedience to their parents, and--a remarkable thing for
+boys--were always in perfect accord.
+
+"Oh, mamma, mamma!" cried Oleah, following close after his brother, and
+quite as much excited.
+
+"Well, what is the matter?" the mother asked, with a smile.
+
+"It's coming! it's coming! it's coming!" cried Oleah.
+
+"He's coming! he's coming!" shouted Abner.
+
+"Who is coming?" asked the mother.
+
+"Papa, papa, papa!" shouted both at the top of their voices. "Papa is
+coming down the big hill on the stage-coach."
+
+Mrs. Tompkins was now looking for herself. Sure enough there was the
+great, old-fashioned stage-coach lumbering down the hill, and her
+husband was an outside passenger, as the sky was now clear and the sun
+shone warm and bright. The clumsy vehicle showed the mud-stains of its
+long travel, and the roads in places were yet filled with water.
+
+The winding of the coachman's horn, which never failed to set the boys
+dancing with delight, sounded mellow and clear on the morning air.
+
+"It's going to stop! it's going to stop!" cried Oleah, clapping his
+little hands.
+
+"It's going to stop! it's going to stop!" shouted Abner, and both kept
+up a frantic shouting, "Whoa, whoa!" to the prancing horses as they drew
+near the house.
+
+It paused in front of the gate, and Mrs. Tompkins and her two boys
+hurried down the walk.
+
+Mr. Tompkins' baggage had just been taken from the boot and placed
+inside the gate, and the stage had rolled on, as his wife and two boys
+came up to the traveler.
+
+"Mamma first, and me next," said Oleah, preparing his red lips for the
+expected kiss.
+
+"And I come after Oleah," said Abner.
+
+Mr. Tompkins called to a negro boy who was near to carry the baggage to
+the house, and the happy group made their way to the great piazza, the
+two boys clinging to their father's hands and keeping up a torrent of
+questions. Where had he been? What had he seen? What had he brought home
+for them? The porch reached, Mrs. Tompkins drew up the arm-chair for her
+tired husband.
+
+"Rest a few minutes," she said, "and then you can take a bath and change
+your clothes, and you will feel quite yourself once more."
+
+The planter took the seat, with a bright-faced child perched on each
+side of him.
+
+"You were gone so long without writing that I became uneasy," said his
+wife, drawing her chair close to his side.
+
+"I had a great deal to do," he answered, shaking his head sadly, "and it
+was terrible work, I assure you. The memory of the past three weeks, I
+fear, will never leave my mind."
+
+"Was it as terrible as the message said?" asked Mrs. Tompkins, with a
+shudder.
+
+"Yes, the horrible story was all true. The whole family was murdered."
+
+"By whom?"
+
+"That remains a mystery, but it is supposed to have been done by one of
+the slaves, as two or three ran away about that time."
+
+"How did it happen? Tell me all."
+
+The little boys were sent away, for this story was not for children to
+hear, and Mr. Tompkins proceeded.
+
+"We could hardly believe the news the dispatch brought us, my dear, but
+it did not tell us the worst. The roads between here and North Carolina
+are not the best, and I was four or five days making it, even with the
+aid of a few hours occasionally by rail. I found my brother's next
+neighbor, Mr. Clayborne, at the village waiting for me. On the way he
+told all that he or any one seemed to know of the affair. My brother had
+a slave who was half negro and part Indian, with some white blood in his
+veins. This slave had a quadroon wife, whom he loved with all his wild,
+passionate heart. She was very beautiful, and a belle among the negroes.
+But Henry, for some disobedience on the part of the husband, whose
+Indian and white blood revolted against slavery, sold the wife to a
+Louisiana sugar planter. The half breed swore he would be revenged, and
+my brother, unfortunately possessing a hasty temper, had him tied up and
+severely whipped--"
+
+"Served the black rascal quite right," interrupted the wife, who, being
+Southern born, could not endure the least self-assertion on the part of
+a slave.
+
+"I think not, my dear, though we will not argue the question. After his
+punishment the black hung about for a week or two, sullen and silent.
+Several friends cautioned my brother to beware of him, but Henry was
+headstrong and took no man's counsel. Suddenly the slave disappeared,
+and although the woods, swamps and cane-breaks were scoured by
+experienced hunters and dogs he could not be found. Three weeks had
+passed, and all thought of the runaway had passed from the minds of the
+people. Late one night the man who told me this was passing my brother's
+house, when he saw flames shooting about the roof and out of the
+windows. He gave the alarm, and roused the negroes. As he ran up the
+lawn toward the house a bloody ax met his view. On entering the front
+door my brother Henry was found lying in the hall, his skull cleft in
+twain. I cannot repeat all that met the man's horror-stricken gaze. They
+had only time to snatch away the bodies of my brother, his wife and two
+of the children when the roof fell in."
+
+"And the other two children?" asked Mrs. Tompkins.
+
+"Were evidently murdered also, but their bodies could not be found. It
+is supposed they were burned to ashes amid the ruins."
+
+"Did you cause any extra search to be made?"
+
+"I did, but it was useless. I have searched, searched,
+searched--mountain, plain and swamp. The rivers were dragged, the wells
+examined, the ruins raked, but in vain. The oldest and the youngest of
+the children could not be found. A skull bone was discovered among the
+ruins, but so burned and charred that it was impossible to tell whether
+it belonged to a human being or an animal. I have done everything I
+could think of, and yet something seems to tell me my task is not
+over--my task is not over."
+
+"What has been done with the plantation?" Mrs. Tompkins asked.
+
+"The father of my brother's wife is the administrator of the estate, and
+he will manage it."
+
+"And the murderer?"
+
+"No trace of him whatever. It seems as though, after performing his
+horrible deed, he must have sank into the earth."
+
+Mrs. Tompkins now, remembering that her husband needed a bath and a
+change of clothes, hurried him into the house. The recital of that
+horrible story had cast a shadow over her countenance, which she tried
+in vain to drive away, and had reawakened in Mr. Tompkins' soul a
+longing for revenge, though his better reason compelled him to admit
+that the half-breed was goaded to madness and desperation.
+
+The day passed gloomily enough after the first joy of the husband and
+father's return. The next morning, just as the sun was peeping over the
+gray peaks of the eastern mountains and throwing floods of golden light
+into the valley below, dancing upon the stream of silver which wound
+beneath, or splintering its ineffectual lances among the branches and
+trunks of the grand old trees surrounding the plantation, Mr. Tompkins
+was awakened from the dreamless sleep of exhaustion.
+
+"What was that?" he asked of his wife.
+
+Both waited a moment, listening, when again the feeble wail of an infant
+reached their ears.
+
+"It is a child's voice," said Mrs. Tompkins; "but why is it there?"
+
+"Some of the negro children have strayed from the quarters; or, more
+likely, it is the child of one of the house servants," said Mr.
+Tompkins.
+
+"The house servants have no children," answered Mrs. Tompkins, "and I
+have cautioned the field women not to allow their children to come here
+especially in the early morning, to annoy us."
+
+Mr. Tompkins, whose morning nap was not yet over, closed his eyes again.
+The melodious horn of the overseer, calling the slaves to the labors of
+the day, sounded musical in the early morning air, and seemed only to
+soothe the wearied master to sleep again. Footsteps were heard upon the
+carpeted hallway, and then three or four light taps on the door of the
+bedroom.
+
+"Who is there?" asked Mrs. Tompkins.
+
+"It's me, missus, if you please." The door was pushed open and a dark
+head, wound in a red bandana handkerchief, appeared in the opening.
+
+"What is the matter, Dinah?" Mrs. Tompkins asked, for she saw by the
+woman's manner that something unusual had occurred. Dinah was her
+mistress' handmaid and the children's nurse.
+
+"If you please, missus," she said, "there is a queerest little baby on
+the front porch in the big clothes-basket."
+
+"A baby!" cried the astonished Mrs. Tompkins.
+
+"Yes'm, a white baby."
+
+"Where is its mother?"
+
+"I don't know, missus. It must a been there nearly all night, an' I
+suppose they who ever left it there wants you to keep it fur good."
+
+"Bring the poor little thing here," said Mrs. Tompkins, rising to a
+sitting position in the bed.
+
+In a few minutes Dinah returned with a baby about six months old,
+dressed in a faded calico gown, and hungrily sucking its tiny fist,
+while its dark brown eyes were filled with tears.
+
+"It was in de big basket among some ole clothes," said Dinah.
+
+"Poor, dear little thing! it is nearly starved and almost frozen.
+Prepare it some warm milk at once, Dinah," said the kind-hearted
+mistress.
+
+The girl hurried away to do her bidding, leaving the baby with Mrs.
+Tompkins, who held the benumbed child in her arms and tried to still its
+cries.
+
+Mr. Tompkins was wide awake now, and his mind busy with conjecture how
+the child came to be left on their piazza.
+
+"What is that?" called Oleah, from the next room.
+
+"Why, it's a baby," answered Abner, and a moment later two pairs of
+little bare feet came pattering into their mother's room.
+
+"Oh, the sweet little thing!" cried Oleah; "I want to kiss it."
+
+His mother held it down for him to kiss.
+
+"Isn't it pretty!" said Abner. "Its eyes are black, just like Oleah's.
+Let me kiss it, too."
+
+The little stranger looked in wonder at the two children, who, in their
+joy over this treasure-trove, were dancing frantically about the room.
+
+"Oh, mamma, where did you get it?" asked Oleah.
+
+"Dinah found it on the porch," the mother answered.
+
+"Who put it there?"
+
+"I don't know, dear."
+
+"Why, Oleah," said Abner, "it's just like old Mr. Post. Don't you know
+he found a baby at his door? for we read about it in our First reader."
+
+"Oh, yes; is this the same baby old Mr. Post found?" asked Oleah.
+
+"No," answered the mother; "this is another."
+
+"Oh, isn't it sweet?" said Oleah, as the child cried and stretched out
+its tiny hands.
+
+"It's just as pretty as it can be," said Abner.
+
+"Mamma, oh, mamma!" said Oleah, shaking his mother's arm, as she did not
+pay immediate attention to his call.
+
+"What, dear?" she asked.
+
+"Are we goin' to keep it?"
+
+"Yes, dear; if some one who has a better right to it does not come to
+claim it."
+
+"They shan't have it," cried Oleah, stamping his little, bare foot on
+the carpet.
+
+"No," added Abner; "it's ours now. They left it there to starve and
+freeze, and now we will keep it."
+
+"You think, then, that the real owner has lost his title by his
+neglect?" said the father, with a smile.
+
+"Yes, that's it," the boy answered.
+
+"It's a very good common law idea, my son."
+
+Dinah now came in with warm milk for the baby, and Mrs. Tompkins told
+her to take the two boys to their room and dress them; but they wanted
+to wait first and see the baby eat.
+
+"Oh, don't it eat; don't it eat!" cried the boys.
+
+"The poor little thing is almost starved," said the mother.
+
+"Missus, how d'ye reckin it came on the porch?" Dinah asked.
+
+"I cannot think who would have left it," answered Mrs. Tompkins.
+
+"That is not a very young baby," said Mr. Tompkins, watching the little
+creature eat greedily from the spoon, for Dinah had now taken it and was
+feeding it.
+
+"No, marster, not berry, 'cause it's got two or free teef," said the
+nurse. "Spect it's 'bout six months old."
+
+As soon as the little stranger had been fed, Dinah wrapped it in a warm
+blanket and laid it on Mrs. Tompkin's bed, where it soon fell asleep,
+showing it was exhausted as well as hungry. Dinah then led the two boys
+to the room to wash and dress them.
+
+"Strange, strange!" said Mrs. Tompkins, beginning to dress. "Who can the
+little thing belong to, and what are we to do with it?"
+
+"Keep it, I suppose," said Mr. Tompkins; and, stumbling over a
+boot-jack, he exclaimed in the same breath, "Oh, confound it!"
+
+"What, the baby?"
+
+"No, the boot-jack. I've stubbed my toe on it."
+
+"We have no right to take upon ourselves the rearing of other people's
+children," said Mrs. Tompkins, paying no attention to her husband's
+trifling injury.
+
+"But it's our Christian duty to see that the little thing does not die
+of cold and hunger," said Mr. Tompkins, caressing his aching toe.
+
+Soon the boys came in, ready for breakfast, and inquired for the baby;
+when told that it was sleeping, they wanted to see it asleep, and stole
+on tiptoe to the bed, where the wearied little thing lay, and nothing
+would satisfy them until they were permitted to touch the pale,
+pinched, tear-stained cheek with their fresh, warm lips.
+
+The breakfast bell rang, and they went down to the dining-room, where
+awaiting them was a breakfast such as only Aunt Susan could prepare.
+They took their places at the table, while a negro girl stood behind
+each, to wait upon them and to drive away flies with long brushes of
+peacock feathers. The boys were so much excited by the advent of the
+strange baby that they could scarcely keep quiet long enough to eat.
+
+"I am going to draw it on my wagon," said Oleah.
+
+"I'm going to let it ride my pony," said Abner.
+
+"Don't think too much of the baby yet, for some one may come and claim
+it," said their mother.
+
+"They shan't have it, shall they, papa?" cried Oleah.
+
+"No, it is our baby now."
+
+"And we are going to keep it, ain't we, Aunt Susan!" he asked the cook,
+as she entered the dining-room.
+
+"Yes, bress yo' little heart; dat baby am yours," said Aunt Susan.
+
+"It's a Christmas gift, ain't it, Maggie?" he asked the waiter behind
+him. Oleah was evidently determined to array everyone's opinion against
+his mother's supposition.
+
+"Yes, I reckin it am," the negro girl answered with a grin.
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Abner. "Why, Oleah, this ain't Christmas."
+
+Seeing his mistake, Oleah joined in the laugh, but soon commenced again.
+
+"We're goin' to make the baby a nice, new play-house, ain't we, Abner?"
+
+"Yes, and a swing."
+
+The baby slept nearly all the forenoon. When she woke (for it was a
+girl) she was washed, and dressed in some of Master Oleah's clothes, and
+Mrs. Tompkins declared the child a marvel of beauty, and when the little
+thing turned her dark eyes on her benefactor with a confiding smile the
+lady resolved that no sorrow that she could avert should cloud the
+sweet, innocent face.
+
+When the boys came in they began a war dance, which made the baby
+scream with delight. Impetuous Oleah snatched her from his mother's lap,
+and both boy and baby rolled over on the floor, fortunately not hurting
+either. His mother scolded, but the baby crowed and laughed, and he
+showered a hundred kisses on the little white face.
+
+A boy about twelve years of age was coming down the lane. He entered the
+gate and was coming towards the house. Mr. Tompkins, who was in the
+sitting-room, in a moment recognized the boy as Crazy Joe, and told his
+wife about the unfortunate lad. He met the boy on the porch.
+
+"How do you do, Joe?" he asked, extending his hand.
+
+"I am well," Joe answered. "Have you seen my father Jacob or my brother
+Benjamin?"
+
+"No, they have not yet come," answered the planter.
+
+For several years after, Joe was a frequent visitor. There was no
+moment's lapse of his melancholy madness, which yet seemed to have a
+peculiar method in it, and the mystery that hid his past but deepened
+and intensified.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+DINNER TALK.
+
+
+America furnishes to the world her share of politicians. The United
+States, with her free government, her freedom of thought, freedom of
+speech and freedom of press, is prolific in their production. One who
+had given the subject but little thought, and no investigation, would be
+amazed to know their number. Nearly every boy born in the United States
+becomes a politician, with views more or less pronounced, and the
+subject is by no means neglected by the feminine portion of the
+community. That part of Virginia, the scene of our story, abounded with
+"village tavern and cross-roads politicians." Snagtown, on Briar creek,
+was a village not more than three miles from Mr. Tompkins'. It boasted
+of two taverns and three saloons, where loafers congregated to talk
+about the weather, the doings in Congress, the terrible state of the
+country, and their exploits in catching "runaway niggers." A large per
+cent of our people pay more attention to Congressional matters than to
+their own affairs. We do not deny that it is every man's right to
+understand the grand machinery of this Government, but he should not
+devote to it the time which should be spent in caring for his family.
+Politics should not intoxicate men and lead them from the paths of
+honest industry, and furnish food for toughs to digest at taverns and
+street corners.
+
+Anything which affords a topic of conversation is eagerly welcomed by
+the loafer; and it is little wonder that politics is a theme that rouses
+all his enthusiasm. It not only affords him food, but drink as well,
+during a campaign. Many are the neglected wives and starving children
+who, in cold and cheerless homes, await the return of the husband and
+father, who sits, warm and comfortable, in some tavern, laying plans for
+the election of a school director or a town overseer.
+
+Snagtown could tell its story. It contained many such neglected homes,
+and the thriftless vagabonds who constituted the voting majority never
+failed to raise an excitement, to provoke bitter feelings and foment
+quarrels on election day.
+
+Plump, and short, and sleek was Mr. Hezekiah Diggs, the justice of the
+peace of Snagtown. Like many justices of the peace, he brought to the
+performance of his duties little native intelligence, and less acquired
+erudition; but what he lacked in brains he made up in brass. He was one
+of the foremost of the political gossipers of Snagtown, and had filled
+his present position for several years.
+
+'Squire Diggs was hardly in what might be termed even moderate
+circumstances, though he and his family made great pretension in
+society. He was one of that rare class in Virginia--a poor man who had
+managed by some inexplicable means, to work his way into the better
+class of society. His wife, unlike himself, was tall, slender and sharp
+visaged. Like him, she was an incessant talker, and her gossip
+frequently caused trouble in the neighborhood. Scandal was seized on as
+a sweet morsel by the hungry Mrs. Diggs, and she never let pass an
+opportunity to spread it, like a pestilence, over the town.
+
+They had one son, now about twelve years of age, the joy and pride of
+their hearts, and as he was capable of declaiming, "The boy stood on the
+burning deck," his proud father discovered in him the future orator of
+America, and determined that Patrick Henry Diggs should study law and
+enter the field of politics. The boy, full of his father's conviction,
+and of a conceit all his own, felt within his soul a rising greatness
+which one day would make him the foremost man of the Nation. He did not
+object to his father's plan; he was willing to become either a statesman
+or a lawyer, but having read the life of Washington, he would have
+chosen to be a general, only that there were now no redcoats to fight.
+Poor as Diggs' family was, they boasted that they associated only with
+the _elite_ of Southern society.
+
+'Squire Diggs had informed Mr. Tompkins that he and his family would pay
+him a visit on a certain day, as he wished to consult him on some
+political matters, and Mr. Tompkins and his hospitable lady, setting
+aside social differences, prepared to make their visitors welcome. On
+the appointed day they were driven up in their antiquated carriage,
+drawn by an old gray horse, and driven by a negro coachman older than
+either. Mose was the only slave that the 'Squire owned, and though sixty
+years of age, he served the family faithfully in a multiform capacity.
+He pulled up at the door of the mansion, and climbing out somewhat
+slowly, owing to age and rheumatism, he opened the carriage door and
+assisted the occupants to alight.
+
+Though Mrs. Tompkins felt an unavoidable repugnance for the gossiping
+Mrs. Diggs, she was too sensible a hostess to treat an uninvited guest
+otherwise than cordially.
+
+"I've been just dying to come and see you," said Mrs. Diggs, as soon as
+she had removed her wraps and taken her seat in an easy chair, with a
+bottle of smelling salts in her hand and her gold-plated spectacles on
+her nose, "you have been having so many strange things happen here; and
+I told the 'Squire we must come over, for I thought the drive might do
+me good, and I wanted to hear all about the murder of your husband's
+brother's family, and see that strange baby and the crazy boy. Isn't it
+strange, though? Who could have committed that awful murder? Who put
+that baby on your piazza, and who is this crazy boy?"
+
+Mrs. Tompkins arrested this stream of interrogatories by saying that it
+was all a mystery, and they had as yet been unable to find a clew.
+Baffled at the very onset in the chief object of her visit, Mrs. Diggs
+turned her thoughts at once into new channels, and, graciously
+overlooking Mrs. Tompkins' inability to gratify her curiosity, began to
+recount the news and gossip and small scandals of the neighborhood.
+
+'Squire Diggs was in the midst of an animated conversation on his
+favorite theme, the politics of the day. The slavery question was just
+assuming prominence. Henry Clay, Martin Van Buren, and others, had at
+times hinted at emancipation, while John Brown and Jared Clarkson, and a
+host of lesser lights, were making the Nation quake with the thunders of
+their eloquence from rostrum and pulpit. 'Squire Diggs was bitter in his
+denunciations of Northerners, believing that they intended "to take our
+niggers from us." He invariably emphasized the pronoun, and always spoke
+of _niggers_ in the plural, as though he owned a hundred instead of one.
+'Squire Diggs was one of a class of people in the South known as the
+most bitter slavery men, the small slaveholders--a class that bewailed
+most loudly the freedom of the negro, because they had few to free. At
+dinner he said:
+
+"Slavery is of divine origin, and all John Brown and Jared Clarkson can
+say will never convince the world otherwise."
+
+"I sometimes think," said Mr. Tompkins, "that the country would be
+better off with the slaves all in Siberia."
+
+"What? My dear sir, how could we exist?" cried 'Squire Diggs, his small
+eyes growing round with wonder. "If the slaves were taken from us, who
+would cultivate these vast fields?"
+
+"Do it ourselves, or by hired help," answered the planter.
+
+"My dear sir, the idea is impracticable," said the 'Squire, hotly. "We
+cannot give up our slaves. Slavery is of divine origin. The niggers,
+descending from Ham, were cursed into slavery. The Bible says so, and no
+nigger-loving Abolitionist need deny it."
+
+"I believe my husband is an emancipationist," said Mrs. Tompkins, with
+a smile.
+
+"I am," said Mr. Tompkins; "not so much for the slaves' good as for the
+masters'. Slavery is a curse to both white and black, and more to the
+white than to the black. The two races can never live together in
+harmony, and the sooner they are separated the better."
+
+"How would you like to free them and leave them among us?" asked the
+'Squire.
+
+"That even would be better than to keep them among us in bondage."
+
+"But Henry Clay, in his great speech on African colonization in the
+House of Representatives, says: 'Of all classes of our population, the
+most vicious is the free colored.' And, my dear sir, were this horde of
+blacks turned loose upon us, without masters or overseers to keep them
+in restraint, our lives would not be safe for a day. Domineering niggers
+would be our masters, would claim the right to vote and hold office.
+Imagine, my dear sir, an ignorant nigger holding an important office
+like that of justice of the peace. Consider for a moment, Mr. Tompkins,
+all of the horrors which would be the natural result of a lazy, indolent
+race, incapable of earning their own living, unless urged by the lash,
+being turned loose to shift for themselves. Slavery is more a blessing
+to the slave than to the master. What was the condition of the negro in
+his native wilds? He was a ruthless savage, hunting and fighting, and
+eating fellow-beings captured in war. He knew no God, and worshiped
+snakes, the sun and moon, and everything he could not understand. Our
+slave-traders found him in this state of barbarism and misery. They
+brought him here, and taught him to till the soil, and trained him in
+the ways of peace, and led him to worship the true and living God. _Our_
+niggers now have food to eat and clothes to wear, when in their native
+country they were hungry and naked. They now enjoy all the blessings of
+an advanced civilization, whereas they were once in the lowest
+barbarism. Set them free, and they will drift back into their former
+state."
+
+"A blessing may be made out of their bondage," replied Mr. Tompkins.
+"As Henry Clay said in the speech from which you have quoted, 'they will
+carry back to their native soil the rich fruits of religion,
+civilization, law and liberty. And may it not be one of the great
+designs of the Ruler of the universe (whose ways are often inscrutable
+by short-sighted mortals) thus to transform original crime into a single
+blessing to the most unfortunate portions of the globe? But I fear we
+uphold slavery rather for our own mercenary advantages than as a
+blessing either to our country or to either race."
+
+"Why, Mr. Tompkins, you are advocating Abolition doctrine," said Mrs.
+Diggs.
+
+"I believe I am, and that abolition is right."
+
+"Would you be willing to lose your own slaves to have the niggers
+freed?" asked the astonished 'Squire.
+
+"I would willingly lose them to rid our country of a blighting curse."
+
+"I would not," said Mrs. Tompkins, her Southern blood fired by the
+discussion. "My husband is a Northern man, and advocates principles that
+were instilled into his mind from infancy; but I oppose abolition from
+principle. Slaves should be treated well and made to know their place;
+but to set them free and ruin thousands of people in the South is the
+idea of fanatics."
+
+"I'm mamma's Democrat," said Oleah, who, seated at his mother's side,
+concluded it best to approve her remarks by proclaiming his own
+political creed.
+
+"And I am papa's Whig," announced Abner, who was at his father's side.
+
+"That's right, my son. You don't believe that people, because they are
+black, should be bought and sold and beaten like cattle, do you?" asked
+the father, looking down, half in jest and half in earnest, at his
+eldest born.
+
+"No; set the negroes free, and Oleah and I will plow and drive wagons,"
+he replied, quickly.
+
+"You don't believe it's right to take people's property from them for
+nothing and leave people poor, do you, Oleah?" asked the mother, in
+laughing retaliation.
+
+"No, I don't," replied the young Southern aristocrat.
+
+"You are liable to have both political parties represented in your own
+family," said 'Squire Diggs. "Here's a difference of opinion already."
+
+"Their differences will be easy to reconcile, for never did brothers
+love each other as these do," returned Mr. Tompkins, little dreaming
+that this difference of opinion was a breach that would widen, widen and
+widen, separating the loving brothers, and bringing untold misery to his
+peaceful home.
+
+"What are you in favor of, Patrick Henry?" Mrs. Diggs asked, in her
+shrill, sharp tones, of her own hopeful son.
+
+"I'm in favor of freedom and the Stars and Stripes," answered Patrick
+Henry, gnawing vigorously at the chicken bone he held in his hand.
+
+"He is a patriot," exclaimed the 'Squire. "He talks of nothing so much
+as Revolutionary days and Revolutionary heroes. He has such a taste for
+military life that I'd send him to West Point, but his mother objects."
+
+"Yes, I do object," put in the shrill-voiced, cadaverous Mrs. Diggs,
+"They don't take a child of mine to their strict military schools. Why,
+what if he was to get sick, away off there, and me here? I wouldn't stop
+day or night till I got there."
+
+Dinner over, the party repaired to the parlor, and 'Squire Diggs asked
+his son to speak "one of his pieces" for the entertainment of the
+company.
+
+"What piece shall I say?" asked Patrick Henry, as anxious to display his
+oratorical talents as his father was to have him.
+
+"The piece that begins, 'I come not here to talk,'" said Mrs. Diggs, her
+sallow features lit up with a smile that showed the tips of her false
+teeth.
+
+Several of the negroes, learning that a show of some kind was about to
+begin in the parlor, crowded about the room, peeping in at the doors and
+windows. Patrick Henry took his position in the centre of the room,
+struck a pompous attitude, standing high as his short legs would permit,
+and, brushing the hair from his forehead, bowed to his audience and, in
+a high, loud monotone, began:
+
+
+     "I come not to talk! You know too well
+     The story of our thraldom. We--we--"
+
+
+He paused and bowed his head.
+
+"We are slaves," prompted the mother, who was listening with eager
+interest. Mrs. Diggs had heard her son "say his piece" so often that she
+had learned it herself, and now served as prompter. Patrick Henry
+continued:
+
+
+                         "We are slaves.
+     The bright moon rises----"
+
+
+"No, sun," interrupted his mother.
+
+
+     "The bright sun rises in the East and lights
+     A race of slaves. He sets--and the--last thing"--
+
+
+The young orator was again off the track.
+
+"And his last beam falls on a slave," again the fond mother prompted.
+
+By being frequently prompted, Patrick Henry managed to "speak his piece
+through."
+
+While the mother, alert and watchful, listened and prompted, the father,
+short, and sleek, and fat, leaned back in his chair, one short leg just
+able to reach across the other, listening with satisfied pride to his
+son's display.
+
+"The poor child has forgotten some of it," said the mother, at the
+conclusion.
+
+"Yes," added the father; "he don't speak much now, and so has forgotten
+a great deal that he knew."
+
+Mr. Tompkins and his wife, inwardly regretting that he had not forgotten
+all, willingly excused Patrick Henry from any further efforts. And
+though they had welcomed and entertained their guests with the cordial
+Southern hospitality, they felt somewhat relieved when the Diggs
+carriage, with its ancient, dark-skinned coachman, rolled away over the
+hills towards Snagtown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+MORE OF THE MYSTERY.
+
+
+We have seen the perfect harmony which prevailed in the household of Mr.
+Tompkins, though his wife and himself were of totally different
+temperaments, and, on many subjects, held opposite opinions. He, with
+his cool Northern blood, was careful and deliberate, slow in drawing
+conclusions or forming a decision; but, once his stand was taken, firm
+as a rock. She had all the quick Southern impetuosity, that at times
+found rash expression, though her head was as clear and her heart as
+warm as her husband's. Her prejudices were stronger than his, and her
+reason was more frequently swayed by them.
+
+The great Missouri Compromise was supposed to have settled the question
+of slavery forever, and abolition was regarded only as the dream of
+visionary fanatics. Though a freeholder by birth and principle,
+circumstances had made Mr. Tompkins a slave-holder. He seldom expressed
+his sentiments to his Southern neighbors, knowing how repugnant they
+were to their feelings; but when his opinions were asked for he always
+gave them freely. The movements on the political checker-board belong
+rather to history than to a narrative of individual lives, yet because
+of their effect on these lives, some of the most important must be
+mentioned. While the abolition party was yet in embryo, the Southern
+statesmen, or many of them, seeming to read the fate of slavery in the
+future, had declared that the Union of States was only a compact or
+co-partnership, which could be dissolved at the option of the
+contracting parties. This gave rise to the principle of States' rights
+and secession, and when the emancipation of the slaves was advocated,
+Southern politicians began to talk more and more of dissolution.
+
+Not only in political assemblies was the subject discussed, but even in
+family circles, as we have seen. Mrs. Tompkins, of course, differed
+from her husband on the subject of "State" rights, as she did on
+slavery, and many were their debates on the theme. Their little sons,
+observing their parents' interest in these questions, became concerned
+themselves, and, as was very natural, took sides. Abner was the Whig and
+Oleah his mother's Democrat. Still, love and harmony dwelt in that happy
+household, though the prophetic ear might have heard in the distant
+future the rattle of musketry on that fair, quiet lawn, and the clash of
+brothers' swords in mortal combat beneath the roof which had sheltered
+their infancy.
+
+Little did these fond parents dream of the deep root those seeds of
+political difference had taken in the breasts of their children, and the
+bitter fruit of misery and horror they would bear. Their lives now ran
+as quietly as a meadow brook. All the long Summer days they played
+without an angry word or thought, or if either was hurt or grieved a
+kiss or a tender word would heal the wound.
+
+The tragic fate of his brother's family, and his unavailing efforts to
+bring the murderers to justice, directed Mr. Tompkins' thoughts into new
+channels. The strange baby grew in strength and beauty every day. Its
+mysterious appearance among them continued to puzzle the family, and all
+their efforts failed to bring any light on the subject. The servant to
+whom was assigned the washing of the clothes the baby had on when found
+was charged by her mistress to look closely for marks and letters upon
+them. When her work was done, she came to Mrs. Tompkins' room, and that
+lady asked:
+
+"Have you found anything, Hannah?"
+
+"Yes, missus; here am a word wif some letters in it," the woman
+answered, holding up a little undershirt and pointing to some faint
+lines.
+
+Mrs. Tompkins took the garment, which, before being washed, had been so
+soiled that even more legible lines than these would have been
+undistinguishable; it was of the finest linen, and faintly, yet surely,
+was the word "Irene" traced with indelible ink.
+
+"As soon as all the clothes had been washed and dried, bring them to
+me," said Mrs. Tompkins, hoping to find some other clew to the child's
+parentage.
+
+"Yes, missus," and Hannah went back to her washing.
+
+"Irene," repeated Mrs. Tompkins aloud, as she looked down on the baby,
+who was sitting on the rug, making things lively among a heap of toys
+Abner and Oleah had placed before her.
+
+The baby looked up and began crowing with delight.
+
+"Oh, bless the darling; it knows its name!" cried Mrs. Tompkins. "Poor
+little thing, it has seldom heard it lately. Irene! Irene! Irene!"
+
+The baby, laughing and shouting, reached out its arms to the lady, who
+caught it up and pressed it to her heart.
+
+"Oh, mamma!" cried Oleah, running into the room, with his brother at his
+heels, "me and Abner have just been talking about what to call the baby.
+He wants to call it Tommy, and that's a boy's name, ain't it, mamma?"
+
+"Of course it is--"
+
+"And our baby is a girl, and must have a girl's name, musn't it, mamma?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I just said Tommy was a nice name; if our baby was a boy we'd call it
+Tommy," explained Abner.
+
+"But the baby has a name--a real pretty name," said the mother.
+
+"A name! a name! What is it?" the brothers cried, capering about, and
+setting the baby almost wild with delight.
+
+"Her name is Irene," said Mrs. Tompkins.
+
+"Oh, mamma, where did you get such a pretty name?" asked Abner.
+
+"Who said it was Irene?" put in Oleah.
+
+"I found it written on some of the clothes it wore the morning we found
+it," answered the mother.
+
+"Then we will call it Irene," said Abner, decisively.
+
+"Irene! Irene! Little Irene! ain't you awful sweet?" cried the impetuous
+Oleah, snatching the baby from his mother's arms and smothering its
+screams of delight with kisses. So enthusiastic was the little fellow
+that the baby was in peril, and his mother, spite of his protestations,
+took it from him. As soon as released, little Irene's feet and hands
+began to play, and she responded, with soft cooing and baby laughter, to
+all the boys' noisy demonstrations.
+
+A youth, with large sad eyes and pale face, now entered the door.
+
+"Oh, come, Joe, come and see the baby!" cried Oleah. "Isn't it sweet?
+Just look at its pretty bright eyes and its cunning little mouth."
+
+Joe had visited the plantation frequently of late, and Mr. Tompkins
+having given orders that he should always be kindly treated, had finally
+established himself there, and was now considered rather a member of the
+household than a guest.
+
+The poor, insane boy came close to Mrs. Tompkins' side and looked
+fixedly at the baby for a few moments. An expression of pain passed over
+his face, as though some long forgotten sorrow was recalled to his mind.
+
+"I remember it now," he finally said. "It was at the great carnival
+feast, and after the gladiators fought, this babe, which was the son of
+the man who was slain, was given to the lions to devour, but although it
+was cast in the den, the lions would not harm a hair of its head."
+
+"Oh, no, Joe; you are mistaken," said Abner; "it was Daniel who was cast
+into the lions' den."
+
+"You are right," said Crazy Joe. "It was Daniel; but I remember this
+baby. It was one of the two taken by the cruel uncle and placed in a
+trough and put in the river. The river overflowed the banks and left the
+babes at the root of a tree, where the wolf found them, and taking
+compassion on the children, came every day and furnished them
+nourishment from his own breast."
+
+"No, no," interrupted Abner, who, young as he was, knew something of
+Roman mythology. "You are talking about Romulus and Remus."
+
+"Ah, yes," sighed the poor youth, striving in vain to gather up his
+wandering faculties; "but I have seen this child before. If it was not
+the one concealed among the bulrushes, then what can it be?"
+
+"It's our baby," put in Oleah, "and it wasn't in no bulrushes; it was in
+the clothes-basket on the porch."
+
+"It was a willow ark," said Joe; "its mother hid it there, for a decree
+had gone forth that all male children of the Israelites should be
+exterminated--"
+
+"No; it was a willow basket," interrupted Oleah. "Its mother shan't
+have it again. It's our little baby. This baby ain't a liverite, and it
+shan't be sterminated, shall it, mamma?"
+
+"No, dear; no one shall harm this baby," said Mrs. Tompkins.
+
+"It's our baby, isn't it mamma?"
+
+"Yes, my child, unless some one else comes for it who has a better right
+to it."
+
+"Who could that be, mamma?"
+
+"Perhaps its own father or mother might come--"
+
+"They shan't have it if they do," cried Oleah, stamping his little foot
+resolutely on the floor.
+
+Joe rose from the low chair on which he had been sitting, and went out,
+saying something about his father coming down into Egypt.
+
+"Mamma," said Abner, when Joe had gone out, "what makes him say such
+strange things? He says that he is Joseph, and that his brothers sold
+him into Egypt, and he calls papa the captain of the guard. He goes out
+into the fields and watches the negroes work, and says he is Potiphar's
+overseer, and must attend to his household."
+
+"Poor boy, he is insane, my son," answered Mrs. Tompkins; "he is very
+unfortunate, and you must not tease him. Let him believe he is Joseph,
+for it will make him feel happier to have his delusion carried out by
+others."
+
+"The other day, when we were playing in the barn, Joe and Oleah and me,
+I saw a great scar and sore place on poor Joe's head, just like some one
+had struck him. I asked him what did it, and he said he fell with his
+head on a sharp rock when his brothers threw him into the pit."
+
+Oleah now was anxious to go back to his play, and dragged his brother
+out of the house to the lawn, leaving Mrs. Tompkins alone with the baby.
+
+Several weeks after the baby and Crazy Joe became inmates of Mr.
+Tompkins' house, a man, dressed in trowsers of brown jeans and hunting
+shirt of tanned deer skin, wearing a broad-brimmed hat and heavy boots,
+came to the mansion. The Autumn day was delightful; it was after the
+Fall rains. The Indian Summer haze hung over hill, and mountain, and
+valley, and the sun glowed with mellowed splendor. The stranger carried
+a rifle, from which a wild turkey was suspended, and wore the usual
+bullet-pouch and powder-horn of the hunter slung across his shoulder. He
+was tall and wiry, about thirty-five years of age, and, to use his own
+expression, as "active as a cat and strong as a lion."
+
+Daniel Martin, or "Uncle Dan," as he was more generally known, was a
+typical Virginia mountaineer, whose cabin was on the side of a mountain
+fifteen miles from Mr. Tompkins' plantation. He was noted for his
+bravery and his bluntness, and for the unerring aim of his rifle.
+
+He was the friend of the rich and poor, and his little cabin frequently
+afforded shelter for the tourist or the sportsman. He was called "Uncle
+Dan" by all the younger people, simply because he would not allow
+himself to be called Mr. Martin.
+
+"No, siree," he would say; "no misterin' fur me. I was never brought up
+to it, and I can't tote the load now." He persisted in being called
+"Uncle Dan," especially by the children. "It seems more home-like," he
+would say.
+
+Why he had not wife and children to make his cabin "home-like" was
+frequently a theme for discussion among the gossips, and, as they could
+arrive at no other conclusion, they finally decided that he must have
+been crossed in love.
+
+Mr. Tompkins, who chanced to be on the veranda, observed the hunter
+enter the gate, and met him with an extended hand and smile of welcome,
+saying:
+
+"Good morning, Dan. It is so long since you have been here that your
+face is almost the face of a stranger."
+
+"Ya-as, it's a'most a coon's age, and an old coon at that, since I been
+on these grounds. How's all the folks?" he answered, grasping Mr.
+Tompkins' out-stretched hand.
+
+"They are all well, and will be delighted to see you Dan. Come in."
+
+"Ye see I brought a gobbler," said Dan, removing the turkey from his
+shoulder. "I thought maybe ye'd be wantin' some wild meat, and I killed
+one down on the creek afore I came."
+
+Mr. Tompkins took the turkey, and calling a negro boy, bade him take it
+to the cook to be prepared for dinner. Then he conducted his guest to
+the veranda. Uncle Dan placed his long rifle and accoutrements in a far
+corner, and sat down by Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Wall, how's times about heah, any how, and how's politicks?" he asked,
+as soon as seated.
+
+The mountain air in America, as in Switzerland, seems to inspire those
+who breathe it with love of liberty. The dwellers on the mountains of
+Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee were chiefly Abolitionists, who
+hated the slave-holder as free men do tyrants, and when the great
+struggle came on they remained loyal to the Government. As a rule, they
+were poor, but self-respecting, possessing a degree of intelligence far
+superior to that of most of the lower class of the South.
+
+The secret of the friendship between the planter and the hunter was that
+both were, at heart, opposed to human bondage, and though they seldom
+expressed their real sentiments, even when alone, each knew the other's
+feelings.
+
+Before Mr. Tompkins could reply to the mountaineer's question, Abner and
+Oleah ran up to the veranda with shouts of joy and noisy demonstrations
+of welcome. Uncle Dan placed one on each knee, and for some time the
+boys claimed all his attention.
+
+"Oh, Uncle Dan, you can't guess what we've got," Oleah cried.
+
+"Why, no; I can't. What is it?" asked Uncle Dan, abandoning attempt to
+return to the social chat the boys had interrupted.
+
+"A baby! a baby!" cried Oleah, clapping his hands.
+
+"A baby?" repeated Uncle Dan, in astonishment.
+
+"Yes, sir; a bran new baby, just as sweet as it can be, too."
+
+The puzzled mountaineer, with a suspicious look at Mr. Tompkins, said:
+"Thought ye said the folks was all well?"
+
+"They are," answered Mr. Tompkins, with an amused smile.
+
+"Dinah found the baby in a clothes-basket," put in Abner.
+
+"Oh, it's a nigger baby, is it?" asked Uncle Dan.
+
+"No, no, no; it's a white baby--a white baby," both boys quickly
+replied.
+
+"What do the children mean?" asked Uncle Dan, bewildered, looking from
+the boys to their father.
+
+"They mean just what they say," said Mr. Tompkins. "A baby was left at
+our door a short time ago in the clothes-basket by some unknown person."
+
+"Don't you want to see it, Uncle Dan?" Master Oleah eagerly asked.
+
+"To be sure I do. I always liked babies; they are the perfection o'
+innocence."
+
+Before he had finished his sentence, Oleah had climbed down from his
+knee, and was scampering away toward the nursery. Abner was not more
+than two seconds in following him.
+
+"Wall, now, see heah," said the hunter; "while them young rattletraps is
+gone, jest tell me what all this means. Hez someone been increasin' yer
+family by leavin' babies a layin' around loose, or is it a big doll some
+one haz give the boys?"
+
+"It's just as the boys say," Mr. Tompkins answered. "Some one did
+actually leave a baby about six months old on this porch, and no one
+knows who he was, where he came from, or where he went."
+
+"That's mighty strange. How long ago was it?"
+
+"About six weeks."
+
+"Wall, now, ain't that strange? Have you any suspicion who done it?"
+
+"Not the least."
+
+"Wall, it is strange. Never saw no un sneakin' about the house, like?"
+
+"No one at all."
+
+"Humph! Well, it's dog gone strange."
+
+At this moment the two boys, with Dinah in attendance, came out, bearing
+between them little Irene.
+
+"Here it is; here is our baby! Ain't she sweet, though?" cried Oleah, as
+they bore their precious burden toward the mountaineer.
+
+"Why it's a spankin' big un, by jingo! Ya-as, an' I be blessed ef I
+ain't seen that baby before," cried Uncle Dan.
+
+"Where?" asked Mr. Tompkins, eagerly.
+
+Uncle Dan took the little thing on his lap, and, as it turned its large
+dark-gray eyes up to his in wonder, he reflected a few minutes in
+silence and then said:
+
+"I saw a baby what looked like this, and I'll bet a good deal it is the
+same one, too."
+
+"Where did you see it?" again demanded the planter.
+
+"That's jest what I'm tryin' to think up," said Uncle Dan. "Oh, yes; it
+war in the free nigger's cabin, on the side o' the east Twin Mountain.
+You know where the old cabin stands, where we used to camp when we war
+out huntin'!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Wall, I war roamin' by there one day, and found two nigger men and a
+woman livin' there. They had this baby with them, and I questioned them
+as to where they war gwine, but one nigger, who had a scar slaunch-ways
+across his face," here the narrator made an imaginary mark diagonally
+across his left cheek to indicate what he meant by "slaunch-ways," "said
+they war gwine to live thar. I asked 'em whar they got the baby, and
+they said its people war dead, and they war to take it to some of its
+relations. I left 'em soon, for I couldn't git much out o' them, but I
+detarmined to keep an eye on 'em. The next time I came by that way they
+were gone, bag and baggage."
+
+"The free nigger's cabin is at least twenty miles from here," said Mr.
+Tompkins. "It is strange why they should bring the baby all that way
+here and leave it."
+
+"It do look strange, but I guess they war runaway niggers what had stole
+the child out of spite, and when they got heah give out an' left it. I
+kinder think these niggers war from the South."
+
+"Have you ever seen or heard of them since?" asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Neither har nor hide."
+
+At this moment a stranger to Uncle Dan came sauntering up the lawn, and,
+stepping on the porch, addressed them with:
+
+"Can you tell me where my brothers feed their flocks?"
+
+"He's crazy," whispered Abner to the hunter. "He's crazy, and mamma says
+pretend as if he was talking sense."
+
+"Oh, they are out thar somewhar on the hills, I reckin'," Uncle Dan
+answered.
+
+Joe looked at the mountaineer for a moment, carefully examining the
+hunting jacket of tanned skins, the hair of which formed an ornamental
+fringe, and then said:
+
+"I know you now. You are my Uncle Esau; but why should you be here in
+Egypt? It was you who grew angry with my father because he got your
+birthright for a mess of potage. You sought to slay him and he fled.
+Have you come to mock his son?"
+
+"Oh, no, youngster; yer pap and me hev made up that little fuss long
+ago. I forgive him that little steal, an' now we ar' all squar' agin."
+
+"But why are you in Egypt? You must be very old. My father, who is
+younger than you, is old--bowed down--"
+
+"Poor boy," said Mr. Tompkins, with a sigh, "he has been a close
+student, and perhaps that was what turned his head."
+
+"Does he ever git rantankerous?" asked Uncle Dan.
+
+"No; he is always mild and harmless."
+
+"Have you seen my father?" Joe now asked. "He has long white hair and
+snowy beard."
+
+"No, youngster; I ain't got a sight o' the old man fur some time," said
+Uncle Dan.
+
+"Potiphar resembles my father, but my father must be dead," and he sank
+into a chair, with a sad look of despair, and, burying his face in his
+hands, groaned as if in pain.
+
+"He does that way a dozen times a day," Abner whispered to Uncle Dan.
+
+"It's maughty strange," said Uncle Dan, shaking his head in a puzzled
+manner.
+
+The next day, when the mountaineer was about to return to his lonely
+cabin, Crazy Joe asked permission to accompany his Uncle Esau. Consent
+was given, and he went and stayed several weeks. For years afterward he
+stayed alternate on Mr. Tompkins' plantation and at the home of the
+mountaineer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE MUD MAN.
+
+
+Sixteen years, with all their joys and sorrows, all their pleasures and
+pains, have been numbered with the dead past. Boys have grown to be men,
+men in the full vigor of their prime have grown old, and creep about
+with bent forms and heads whitening, while men who were old before now
+slumber with the dead. Girls are women, and women have grown gray, yet
+father Time has touched gently some of his children.
+
+Abner and Oleah Tompkins are no longer boys. Only the memory is left
+them of their childhood joys, when they played in the dark, cool woods,
+or by the brook in the wide, smooth lawn. Happy childhood days, when
+neither care nor anxiety weighed on their young hearts, or shadowed
+their bright faces.
+
+Abner is twenty-five--a tall, powerful man, with dark-blue, fearless
+eyes, light-haired, broad-chested and muscular.
+
+Oleah, two years younger, and not quite so tall, is yet in physical
+strength his brother's equal. He has the dark hair and large, dark,
+lustrous eyes of his Southern mother.
+
+The brothers were alike and yet dissimilar. They had shared equally the
+same advantages; they had played together and studied together.
+Playmates in their childhood, friends as well as brothers in their young
+manhood, no one could question a doubt of their brotherly love. Where
+one had been, the other had always been at his side. No slightest
+difference had ever yet ruffled the smooth surface of their existence.
+Yet they were dissimilar in temperament. Abner was slow and cool, but
+perhaps more determined than his brother, and his reason predominated
+over his prejudice. Oleah was rash, impetuous and bold, and more liable
+to be moved by prejudice or passion than by reason. Abner was the exact
+counterpart of his Northern father, Oleah of his Southern mother.
+
+Their political sympathies were different as their dispositions.
+Although of the same family, they had actually been taught opposite
+political creeds--one parent in a half-playful way, unconsciously
+advocating one idea; the other as firmly and unconsciously upholding
+another, and it was quite natural that the children should follow them.
+But this difference of opinion had bred no discord.
+
+Sixteen years have wrought a wonderful change in Irene, the foundling.
+Her parentage is still a mystery, and she bears the name of her foster
+parents. She is just budding into womanhood, and a beautiful woman she
+promises to make--slender and graceful, her small, shapely head crowned
+with dark brown hair, her cheeks dimpling with smiles, mouth and chin
+firm and clear-cut and large, dark-gray eyes beneath arching brows and
+long silken lashes filled with a world of tenderness.
+
+Irene could not have been loved more tenderly by the planter and his
+wife had she been their own child. They lavished care and affection upon
+her and filled her life with everything that could minister to her
+comfort and delight, and every one knew that they would make generous
+provision for the little waif who had gained so sure a place in their
+hearts.
+
+Sixteen years had made some change in the planter. His hair had grown
+whiter, his brow more furrowed with care, and he went about with a heavy
+cane; yet he was vigorous and energetic. He had grown more corpulent,
+and his movements were less brisk than of yore. Father Time had dealt
+leniently with his wife. Her soft, dark hair was scarcely touched with
+silver; her cheeks were smooth and her eyes were still bright and
+lustrous. Her voice had lost none of its silver ring, her manner none of
+its queenly grace.
+
+No ray of light had pierced the darkened mind of Crazy Joe. All these
+long, weary years he had been waiting, waiting, waiting, for his father
+Jacob to come down into Egypt, but he came not. He still talked as if it
+was but yesterday that he had been cast into the pit by his brethren,
+and then taken out and sold into Egypt. He spent his time in turns at
+the planter's and Uncle Dan's cabin. He was well known throughout the
+neighborhood, and pitied and kindly treated by all. His strange
+hallucination, although causing pain and perplexity to his shattered
+mind, worked no change in his gentle disposition; his sad eyes never
+flashed with anger; no emotion varied the melancholy monotone of his
+voice. When at the home of the planter, Joe divided his time between the
+stables, the garden and the library. He would have been a constant
+reader of the Bible, Josephus, Socrates, Milton's "Paradise Lost," had
+it not been discovered by Mrs. Tompkins that these books only tended to
+increase the darkness in which his mind was shrouded, and she had them
+kept from him. At Uncle Dan's mountain home he passed his time in
+hunting and trapping, becoming expert in both.
+
+Sixteen years had wrought a great change in Uncle Dan, bowing his tall
+and sinewy form. His face, which he had always kept smooth shaven, had
+grown sharper and thinner, and his long hair hanging about his
+shoulders, had turned from black to gray; yet his eye was as true and
+his hand as steady as when, in his youthful days, he carried away the
+prize at the shooting match. His visits to the plantation became more
+frequent and his stays longer, for the old man grew lonesome in his hut,
+and he was ever a welcome guest at the Tompkins mansion.
+
+Sixteen years had made a wonderful transformation in the politics of the
+country. The Whig party had been swallowed up by the Republican or
+Abolition organization. The seeds of freedom, sown by Clarkson, Brown
+and others, had taken root, and, in the Fall of 1860, bade fare to ripen
+into a bounteous harvest. The Southern feeling against the North had
+grown more and more bitter, and the low, rumbling thunders of a mighty
+storm might have been heard--a storm not far distant, and whose fury
+naught but the blood of countless thousands could assuage.
+
+"In the beginning, God created Heaven and the earth, and all that was in
+them, in six days, and rested on the seventh."
+
+The speaker was Crazy Joe, the time, midsummer of 1860, the place the
+banks of a creek at the foot of the mountains, not more than two or
+three hundred feet from Uncle Dan's cabin.
+
+"Then the book says God made man out of clay. Josephus says he called
+the first man Adam, because Adam means red, and He made him out of red
+clay. Now, if man could once be made out of clay, why not now? Maybe God
+will let me make a man, too."
+
+Filling his hands with mud, he set vigorously to work. No sculptor could
+have been more in earnest than was Crazy Joe. He rolled and patted the
+mud into shape, first the feet, then the legs, then the body.
+Occasionally the body would tumble down, but he patiently set to work
+again, persevering until he had body, arm and head all completed. His
+mud man was a little over five feet in height, and greatly admired by
+his maker and owner.
+
+"Now I have accomplished almost as much as God did," soliloquized Joe.
+"I have made a man of clay; it only remains for him to speak and move,
+and he will be equal to any of us."
+
+He went to the cabin and acquainted Uncle Dan with the wonderful work he
+had performed, and asked him to come and see it. The next day he went to
+view the object of poor Joe's two days' labor, greatly to Joe's delight.
+Uncle Dan then returned to his cabin for his gun, and Joe went to
+Snagtown, which was between Mr. Tompkins' plantation and the hunter's
+cabin.
+
+Joe there informed the storekeeper, the village postmaster, and a few
+others, of his remarkable piece of handiwork, and asked them to come and
+see it. They promised to go the next day, if Joe would stay all night in
+the village.
+
+Joe stayed, and that night there came a heavy rain. The creek overflowed
+and Joe's mud man was washed away. He conducted a party of hunters to
+the spot next morning, but the man of clay had vanished.
+
+"He must have walked away," said Joe shaking his head in a puzzled
+manner. "He has gone off, though I cautioned him to wait until I came
+back."
+
+The hunting party explained to Joe that his mud man had become tired of
+waiting, and left, and went off themselves, leaving the mortified Joe
+searching about the soft soil for tracks of the missing mud man. His
+search for the trail took him to Snagtown.
+
+Patrick Henry Diggs, whom we met in his boyhood as the youthful orator
+at Mr. Tompkins' was, in 1860, a lawyer. His parents were dead, leaving
+him a limited education, a superficial knowledge of law, and a very
+small property. The paternal homestead was mortgaged, but Mr. Diggs
+still kept old Mose, for the sake of being a slaveholder and maintaining
+aristocratic appearance. Mr. Diggs had but little practice, and found it
+a difficult thing to make his own living. He was about twenty-eight
+years old, short and plump like his father. The most peculiar portion of
+his anatomy was his head. The forehead was low, and the small round head
+more nearly resembled a cocoanut painted white, with hair on its top,
+than anything else to which we can compare it. The hair was very thick
+and cut very short. The eyebrows were heavy and close together, the eyes
+dark gray and restless, the nose small and straight. The most admirable
+portion of his physiognomy, Mr. Diggs thought, were his side-whiskers,
+which were short and dark, growing half-way down his small, red cheeks
+and coalescing with his short mustache. Mr. Diggs was exceedingly
+aristocratic, and wore gold-rimmed spectacles on his short nose. These
+glasses, which gave him a ridiculous appearance, were removed when he
+wanted to read or exercise his unobstructed vision. His friends tried to
+persuade him to give them up, but in vain. And with his glasses on his
+nose, his head thrown back in order to see persons of ordinary height,
+and his fat little hands in his pockets, he strutted about the streets
+of Snagtown.
+
+Mr. Diggs, like his father, was a politician. In the campaign of 1860 he
+was a candidate for the district attorneyship of his county. His dingy
+little office, with its scant furniture and exceedingly small library,
+was deserted, and he spent most of his time on the streets, discussing
+the political issues. On the day that Crazy Joe was in search of his mud
+man, Mr. Diggs, as usual was strutting about the streets, his hands in
+his pockets, his glasses mounted on his nose, wherefrom a very evident
+string extended to his neck.
+
+"I tell you," said Mr. Diggs, closing his little fat right hand and
+striking therewith the palm of his little fat left hand, "I tell you,
+sir, I--I do not favor outlawry, but I do believe one would be doing our
+country a service by hanging every man who votes or attempts to vote the
+Abolition ticket."
+
+"Oh, no, Mr. Diggs," said Abner Tompkins, who chanced that day to be in
+Snagtown, and overheard the remark; "the ballot is a constitutional
+privilege, and no man should be deprived of his right."
+
+"Yes--ahem--ahem! but you see, when there is a man on the track who, if
+elected, will set all _our_ niggers free, we should object. You
+know--no, you don't know, but _we lawyers_ all know--that private
+property can not be taken for public use without a just compensation,
+and still the Abolition candidate will violate this portion of our
+constitutional law."
+
+"You don't know yet; Mr. Lincoln has not yet declared what he will do,"
+replied Abner.
+
+"Has not? Hem, hem, hem!" Mr. Diggs stumped about furiously, his head
+inclined backward in order to see his companion's face through his
+ornamental glasses, while he cleared his throat for a fresh burst of
+thunder. "Has not, hey? Hem, hem! He might as well. We all know what he
+will do if elected. And I'll tell you something more," he added, walking
+back and forth, his hands plunged in his pockets, while seeming to grow
+more and more furious, "if Lincoln is elected there will be _war_!"
+(Great emphasis on the last word.)
+
+At this moment Crazy Joe, who had reached the village in search of his
+mud man, came up to the excited Diggs, and, laying his hand on his arm,
+in a very serious voice said:
+
+"Say, why didn't you stay where I put you until I showed you?"
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Diggs, pausing in his agitated walk,
+and gazing furiously into the lunatic's face, for he suspected some one
+of attempting to play a joke on him.
+
+"What made you go away before I showed you?" said Joe, earnestly, gazing
+down upon the furious little fellow.
+
+"I--I don't understand what you mean," said the puzzled Mr. Diggs,
+drawing himself up to his full height, which was hardly imposing.
+
+"When I make a man of mud, and go off and leave him, to get people to
+come and look at him, I don't want him to go off, as you did, before I
+come back."
+
+Abner Tompkins, and several others, who had heard the story of Joe's mud
+man, were now almost bursting with suppressed merriment.
+
+"I can't tell what the deuce you mean?" said the angry Mr. Diggs.
+
+"I made you out of mud and clay, and left you standing by the big tree
+at the creek while I went to get some people to show you to, that I
+might convince them that man was made out of clay, but before I got back
+you walked off. Now, why didn't you stay until I showed you?"
+
+The men gathered about Mr. Diggs could no longer restrain themselves,
+and burst into peals of laughter, which made Mr. Diggs furious.
+
+"This is some trick you are playing," he cried, and, turning upon his
+heel, he strutted away to his office, where he shut himself up for the
+next two hours.
+
+The joke spread rapidly, and in two hours every one in the village knew
+that Crazy Joe claimed Mr. Diggs as his mud man; while poor Joe,
+satisfied that he had found the object of his creation, consented to go
+home with Abner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A TRANSITION PERIOD.
+
+
+All Snagtown was astonished one day when a flaring handbill announcing
+that Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas would speak in that
+unpretentious little village. Their presence there was due to the
+accident of missing connections in passing from one city to another.
+
+It would have been hard to say whether the citizens of Snagtown were
+more astonished or indignant. A public meeting was called the day before
+the Abolitionists were advertised to speak, to determine what means
+could be taken in this emergency. The Mayor presided, and the residents,
+not only of the village, but of all the surrounding country, were urged
+to be present.
+
+"I tell you, gentlemen--hem! hem!--it will never do," said Mr. Diggs, as
+he strutted about, his glasses on his nose, casting upward glances into
+the faces of those who were discussing the question. "Hem! hem! hem! I
+tell you it will not do at all," and he expectorated spitefully upon the
+pavement. "We must prevent Lincoln's speaking here, if we have to mob
+him. He comes not only to deprive us of our slaves, but to destroy the
+flag of Washington and Marion, the glorious Stars and Stripes! I, for
+one, am in favor of saying he shall not speak."
+
+"So am I," said another.
+
+"And so am I," said a third.
+
+"And I, and I, and I," came responses from many voices.
+
+"Hem, hem, hem!" began Mr. Diggs, shrugging his shoulders, and moving
+about furiously, indicating thereby how much in earnest he had become.
+"I tell you we must not permit it. Why, it's treason. Yes, sir; he
+teaches treason, and it's our duty, as law-abiding citizens, not to
+permit him to speak."
+
+"Well, now, do you make them pints, when we have our meetin' to-morrow
+night," said an illiterate Virginian.
+
+"Hem, hem, hem!" began Mr. Diggs, thrusting his hands deep into his
+pockets, his head on one side, kicking his feet alternately one against
+the other. "I will. Hem, hem! I am going to make a speech just about an
+hour long--ha! ha! ha!--so that no one else will get a chance to put in
+a word, and we shall have it all our own way." The young lawyer, highly
+pleased with the favor that he flattered himself he was gaining
+politically, finished his sentence with a gleeful chuckle, and strutted
+about, swelling with his own importance.
+
+All over the village could be seen groups of men, from five to twenty in
+number, discussing the propriety of allowing "Abe Lincoln" to speak in
+the village. A majority seemed opposed to it, and a few of the more
+reckless spirits talked of tar and feathers and fence rails.
+
+The evening for the public meeting, which was to decide the
+all-important question, arrived. The town hall was crowded to its utmost
+capacity. Mr. Tompkins and his two sons were present, and so was Uncle
+Dan, the mountaineer. The meeting was called to order and the Mayor took
+the chair. He was a man past the meridian of life, a slaveholder and a
+royal Southerner. The long, white beard falling down upon his breast
+gave him a patriarchal look.
+
+The uproar and confusion of tongues were hushed, and all awaited the
+speaker in anxious silence.
+
+A call was made on any one present to state the object of the meeting. A
+man sprang at once to his feet, and succinctly informed the chairman
+that the "object of this meetin' is to determine the question whether or
+not it is best to 'low Abraham Lincoln, the great Abolitionist, to speak
+in the town. I believe them's all the pints to be discussed," and he sat
+down. Another and more voluble speaker arose and addressed the meeting.
+He was of the class called "fire-eaters," and was strongly and directly
+opposed to Lincoln's visit to Snagtown. His speech was replete with the
+vilest vituperations his brain could conceive, or his tongue utter,
+against the Republican party. He regarded them as robbers, as enemies
+who should be shot down at sight, and he was in favor of greeting Abe
+Lincoln with tar and feathers if he dared show himself in Snagtown.
+
+Several others spoke in the same vein, and then Mr. Diggs rose. His
+speech of an hour proved not half so long. It was full of empty-sounding
+words and borrowed ideas, for there was little originality about Mr.
+Diggs.
+
+All, so far, had been against the proposed debate between Lincoln and
+Douglas, but now a man rose in the audience whose word always carried
+weight. It was Mr. Tompkins, the planter.
+
+"Mr. Chairman," he began, in even, modulated tones, "I am, indeed,
+surprised that men of intelligence should give vent to such expressions
+and such feelings as we have heard this evening--men who know the law,
+and claim to be law abiding citizens. Are we savages or border
+ruffians, that we must be swayed and controlled by mob law? Have we not
+a Constitution and Constitutional privileges? Have we not statute laws
+to protect us against wrongs which others may inflict? Then why resort
+to mob law? Why disgrace our fair State and put the blush of shame on
+all good citizens by attacking, like outlaws, a stranger among us? Our
+Constitution gives to all freedom of speech, and we have no right to
+deny any man this Constitutional privilege."
+
+Mr. Tompkins proceeded quietly but forcibly, pointing out to the
+malcontents the error of their plans. In conclusion, he said:
+
+"I may be the only one in the house who opposes these views, but as one
+I say this, though I be alone. I will oppose with violence the attempt
+to injure Mr. Lincoln. You are not compelled to vote for him, even to
+hear him speak; but if Mr. Lincoln comes here, by Heaven! he shall
+speak."
+
+"So say I, an' I swar if any sorry hound attempts the mobbin' business,
+he'll have to cross my carcass fust." The speaker was Uncle Dan, and as
+he spoke he drew up his tall figure by the side of Mr. Tompkins, holding
+his ominous-looking rifle in his hand.
+
+Abner also rose and took his place at his father's side, but Oleah kept
+his seat. This was the first visible difference of opinion between the
+brothers.
+
+Several who had been emboldened by Mr. Tompkins' words now declared that
+they thought it best not to oppose Mr. Lincoln's speaking there, as it
+would increase his popularity in other localities.
+
+One or two of the more fiery replied, maintaining that their case was
+beyond the remedy of civil law; that mob law was the only law which
+should be meted out to scoundrels and Abolition thieves, and if some of
+the citizens intended to espouse the cause of Abe Lincoln, and fight for
+him, now was as good as any to settle the matter. A riot seemed
+inevitable, but a laughable event now happened, changing anger into
+mirth.
+
+Mr. Diggs, fearing that his legal knowledge would be called into
+question, now rose and said:
+
+"I wish to make one other statement, in order to put myself right
+before the people. I knew the Constitutional law referred to by Mr.
+Tompkins, giving every man freedom of speech, and I can give you the
+book and the page--"
+
+"Oh, you need not," said a wag in the audience. "Answer this question
+instead: Are you Crazy Joe's mud man, and why did you leave before he
+came back to exhibit you?"
+
+"Oh, stop that nonsense! I came here to talk sense, not to hear of a
+fool's ravings," cried the indignant Mr. Diggs.
+
+But everybody had heard the story of the mud man, and hostile feelings
+now gave way to laughter. The laugh was kept up until Mr. Diggs became
+enraged and left the assembly, swearing that they were "all a pack of
+fools."
+
+A compromise was effected. Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Douglas were to be
+permitted to speak in a grove near the village, but not in the village
+itself. The next day Mr. Tompkins and Abner, and a few others, with the
+aid of their negroes, erected a speaker's stand, and arranged seats for
+an audience of over two thousand persons. There were still low murmurs
+of discontent, but the most bitter malcontents had been overawed by the
+firm stand taken by Mr. Tompkins. Many others had caught his spirit, and
+defied the hostile threats of the opponents of free speech.
+
+The occasion had been so thoroughly advertised by the meeting and the
+threats and opposition of those who wanted to prevent it, that the whole
+country for miles around turned out. People on foot, on horseback, in
+carriages and in wagons, came until thousands were assembled on the
+spot, many prompted by curiosity to see the bold Abolitionist who dared
+invade the sacred soil of Virginia and propound his infamous doctrine.
+
+About ten o'clock two carriages rolled in from the nearest railroad
+station, bearing the two disputants, with friends of each in attendance.
+There was an eager craning of necks, and a hushed whisper went through
+that vast audience as the two opponents for the highest political honors
+of the country descended from the carriage.
+
+"Who are they?" "Where are they?" "Is that big,
+two-hundred-and-fifty-pounder Douglas?" "Is that short, stout-built man
+with big burnsides Lincoln?" and a hundred other questions of a like
+character were asked.
+
+A few preliminaries were arranged. Mr. George Washington Tompkins was
+chosen chairman, and took his place on the stand. Two New York reporters
+were present with note-books and pencils.
+
+The first speaker introduced was Mr. Stephen A. Douglas. His
+speech--eloquent, patriotic and straightforward--generously concluded
+with an exhortation to the audience to listen calmly, without any
+expression of bitterness, to his opponent, who chanced to differ from
+him on the great question of the day. When Mr. Douglas took his seat,
+Mr. Tompkins rose and introduced Mr. Abraham Lincoln, a tall man,
+wearing short, dark whiskers on his chin, and with hair slightly
+streaked with gray.
+
+A subdued hiss from many lips was heard as the great "Abolition
+candidate" arose.
+
+After a smile as of compassion upon his audience, Mr. Lincoln began
+speaking. He talked mildly and candidly, yet freely, notwithstanding the
+feeling evinced by some of his hearers. Those deep, rich tones rang
+through the surrounding grove as he clearly and forcibly expounded the
+principles of the Republican party, showing them to have been either
+misunderstood or misrepresented by his opponent. Many who had come to
+prevent the hated Abolitionist from speaking now listened with interest.
+This was not such iniquitous doctrine after all. Every point made by Mr.
+Douglas was successfully met, and his own argument arrayed against him.
+Mr. Lincoln spoke for two hours, and at the conclusion of his address
+his bitter enemies were forced to admit that he was a man of immense
+power. His oratory was so grandly sublime in effect that when he took
+his seat an outbreak of applause, which could not be suppressed, could
+not be restrained, burst from the spell-bound audience.
+
+Mr. Tompkins went to the meeting a Douglas man, but he left with the
+full determination to vote for Abraham Lincoln at the coming Fall
+election, as did Uncle Dan and many others. This was truly a transition
+period, as the whole world was to learn in a few short months. The Whig
+party was dwindling away, and slavery was withered and scorched before
+the fiery eloquence of Lincoln, Sumner, and other similar orators.
+Freedom was dawning, but it was to be ushered in with fire, and sword,
+and death.
+
+Mr. Tompkins and his sons were late in coming home that evening. Abner
+and Oleah sat side by side in the family carriage, yet neither spoke.
+Hitherto, every event had been fully discussed; every feeling shared by
+the brothers; but a silence that was almost coolness now sealed their
+lips. A thousand conflicting thoughts swept through their minds.
+
+Abner was convicted, converted, by the new doctrine to which he had
+listened, and the melodious voice of the orator was still ringing in his
+ears as the carriage rolled homeward. He still seemed to see the tall,
+rugged form and plain face, lit up with something rarer than beauty by
+his eloquent pleading for four millions of enslaved human beings.
+
+Oleah was in a gloomy mood. He had listened with angry impatience to the
+exposition of views so different from his own, and that his father
+should have presided over the meeting, and stood openly side by side
+with the Abolitionist, stung his Southern prejudices and vexed him to
+the soul.
+
+The trio were driven home in silence, and parted for the night, without
+any reference to the events of the day.
+
+At the table the next morning the discussion of the day before was first
+alluded to. Mr. and Mrs. Tompkins, Abner and Oleah, sat for some moments
+in silence--a silence both painful and awkward, and, in this family
+circle, unusual; but Irene entered the breakfast room, bright and
+unconscious, eager to know all that had passed at Snagtown the day
+before.
+
+"We heard an excellent speech," said Abner.
+
+"Yes; Douglas did well," put in Oleah.
+
+"I mean Mr. Lincoln," said Abner. "Douglas' speech was good, but his
+position was entirely demolished by Mr. Lincoln's eloquent reasoning."
+
+"You don't call the harangue of that contemptible old demagogue
+reasoning, do you?" asked Oleah, astonished and indignant.
+
+"I certainly do," replied Abner. "His reasoning appeared to me clear,
+and his conclusions logical."
+
+"And I," cried Oleah, laying down his knife and fork in his excitement,
+"I declare I never before heard so much sophistry, and not very
+plausible sophistry, either."
+
+"You are prejudiced," said Abner, coolly.
+
+"It is you who are prejudiced. Why he actually asserted we would be more
+prosperous if there was not a slave in the United States."
+
+"Yes, and proved his assertion," said Abner.
+
+"Oh, you let him pull the wool over your eyes." There was a sneer in his
+voice. "I tell you there was neither logic nor reason in what he said.
+No logical conclusions can be drawn from false premises; no assertions
+can stand unsupported by proof."
+
+"What did he assert that he did not prove?" asked Abner.
+
+"What did he prove that he asserted?"
+
+"You evade my question by asking another."
+
+"Precisely the same plan Mr. Lincoln adopted," replied Oleah.
+
+"You are prejudiced against Mr. Lincoln, Oleah. Now, tell me what he
+said that any fair-minded man in the world can not agree to?"
+
+"He said that slavery should not wither and blight another inch of
+territory if he could help it."
+
+"What objection can even a believer in slavery have to that? We have an
+immense scope of country where slavery is permitted; then why extend it
+to Territories where it is unpopular?"
+
+"But can you not see what lies in the background?" said Oleah, bitterly.
+"Mr. Lincoln lifted the curtain high enough for one who was not blinded
+by his eloquence to see what was behind it. I would not fear to wager
+everything I own that Mr. Lincoln, if elected, will set free every slave
+in the United States, before he has been in the presidential chair a
+twelvemonth."
+
+"Did he not say that such emancipation would be unwise policy?"
+
+"He said so, but his tone and manner belied his words."
+
+"Confess now, Oleah, that you are a little prejudiced against Mr.
+Lincoln," said the father, good-humoredly.
+
+"You may call it prejudice or what you like, father," Oleah answered,
+his flushed face showing how deep was his feeling; "but if Mr. Lincoln
+is elected you will not have a nigger when his term is over, if he
+should be permitted to take his seat."
+
+"Why, my son, you can't think he would not be permitted to take his
+seat?"
+
+"That is a question, father. Each State has its rights. Southern people
+have rights, and rather than be cheated of them they may resort to
+force."
+
+"Now, Oleah," said Abner, "you don't for a moment suppose that if Mr.
+Lincoln should be chosen President by the voters of the United States,
+that any considerable body of intelligent people could be found who
+would be unfair enough, or foolhardy enough, to attempt to prevent him
+from taking his seat?"
+
+"I certainly do," answered Oleah, with an air of conviction.
+
+"You are a Democrat; do you not hold with us Democrats that the majority
+should rule?"
+
+"That has nothing to do with it," said Oleah, hotly. "The North and the
+East outnumber the South, and they have formed a combination for her
+ruin, and the impoverishment of her people. They have nothing at stake
+in Lincoln's election; we have everything. They have nothing to
+lose--we, all. Our interests conflict. They see an opulent and growing
+South, and have set their inventive Yankee genius at work to compass its
+ruin. Our cotton fields, our rice fields, our sugar crops, our tobacco
+crops, are the production of slave labor, and the abundant wealth of the
+South excites the emulation of the cold and envious North. If they can
+deprive us of this slave labor, they will have killed the goose that
+lays our golden eggs, and may surpass us in wealth and power. This they
+have determined to do. They have tried it by legislation, and so far
+have failed. They outnumber us in votes, because there every worthless
+fellow's vote counts as much as that of a Governor or a man who owns a
+thousand slaves. How can they accomplish our ruin? By electing as
+president a man whose every breath is poison to slavery; a man who may,
+at any time, under the fancied exigencies of the moment, declare all
+slaves free. Their plans are deep and shrewd, but there are heads in the
+South as wise as theirs, and eyes that can see the danger in time to
+avert it."
+
+"You are crazy, Oleah," said Abner; "your very words are treason."
+
+"If treason, then his mother is infected with the same disease, and, in
+the language of Patrick Henry, 'If this be treason, make the most of
+it,'" said Mrs. Tompkins, with a laugh, in which all joined.
+
+"I am sure we ought to get at the truth of this question," said Mr.
+Tompkins; "we have both sides represented."
+
+"Who will judge between us?" asked Mrs. Tompkins.
+
+"All have taken sides except Irene. Which side are you on?" asked Oleah.
+
+"I know nothing about either side," the girl answered, lightly; "so how
+can I choose?"
+
+Mrs. Tompkins' love for her sunny land was next in her heart to her love
+for her husband, and forced her to espouse a cause which, to her, seemed
+patriotic. This was the only question on which she and her husband
+differed, and it was avoided by both as much as possible, yet sometimes,
+in spite of their precautions, it would creep into their family
+conversations.
+
+"Irene is the proper one to act as judge," said Abner.
+
+"Why?" Irene lifted her eyes in wonder.
+
+"Because you know nothing about it."
+
+"Do they make the best judges who know the least?"
+
+"Frequently; and a juror who knows anything of the case he is to pass a
+verdict on is incompetent, so you are a competent juror, any way, Irene;
+and as one woman is equal to twelve men you can complete the entire
+panel."
+
+"I beg pardon of the court," said Irene, rising from the table, "but I
+can not sit on this jury. I am prejudiced on both sides. I have friends
+on both sides, and I could not render an unbiased verdict."
+
+"That's no excuse," said Abner.
+
+"If it's not, the new piece of music you bought me is, so I leave you
+to your discussion, and hope you may effect a happy compromise." She was
+gone.
+
+There was a moment's silence, and then the rippling music of her voice
+filled the halls and rooms of the great house.
+
+"I wish the name she bears was rightfully hers, though I am glad she is
+not my sister," Abner said to himself. The same thought flashed through
+Oleah's mind, and, as usual, the mobile face betrayed his thoughts.
+Every one seemed always to understand his feelings.
+
+Irene had just returned from school, an accomplished beauty and an
+acknowledged belle.
+
+No wonder strange emotions stirred the hearts of the brothers, and that
+thoughts gained entrance in their breasts which might prove more
+disastrous than mere political differences.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE ELECTION AND THE RESULT.
+
+
+The election of 1860 was an exciting one. No means were spared to poll
+every possible vote. Lincoln was the Republican candidate, Douglas a
+Northern, and Breckinridge a Southern Democrat, and Bell the Whig and
+"Know-Nothing" candidate, and all four parties worked vigorously.
+
+Mr. Tompkins and his sons reached Snagtown early in the morning. The
+village was already alive with the stir and excitement. The polls opened
+at sunrise, and men were soon crowding around them, quarreling,
+disputing, joking. The morning air was crisp and frosty, and the people
+were compelled to walk about briskly to keep from being chilled.
+
+A dirty faced urchin, with a pumpkin under one arm and some turnips
+under the other, paused in front of the polls, and, stretching out his
+neck like a young rooster achieving his first crow, bawled out:
+
+"Hurrah for Douglas!"
+
+It was the first patriotic wave which had caused an undulation of his
+infantile breast.
+
+There chanced to be another boy, more dirty than the first, sitting on a
+fence near by gnawing an apple-core. His "pa" was a Breckinridge man,
+and, regarding this outburst as a challenge, he threw away the
+apple-core and fell with fury upon him of the pumpkin and turnips.
+Coming head first into the stomach of the Douglasite, he sent boy,
+pumpkin, and turnips into the gutter.
+
+The enraged young Douglasite scrambled to his feet, and, leaving his
+vegetables behind, started in hot pursuit of the now fleeing
+Breckinridgeite, while shouts and cheers went up from the many
+spectators.
+
+Mr. Diggs came along, engaged in conversation with a farmer whom he was
+trying to persuade to vote for himself and Breckinridge, for Mr. Diggs
+was a candidate for the office of District Attorney. On account of his
+small stature, the candidate was compelled to walk with upturned face,
+in order to watch the effect of his words upon the tall Virginian. The
+sidewalk being crowded, they had taken the middle of the street, and Mr.
+Diggs struck his toe with such force against the abandoned pumpkin that
+he was thrown down, and, falling on the pumpkin, he rolled with it into
+the gutter, which was half full of mud and water. Shouts and yells of
+laughter greeted Mr. Diggs as he scrambled to his feet and picked up the
+glasses which he had lost in his fall.
+
+"By jingo, Diggs, ye look like Crazy Joe's mud man now!" cried some one
+from the crowd.
+
+This was too much for the candidate, and, with something very much like
+an oath, he hurried away to change his clothes.
+
+As the day advanced, the crowd increased, and as electioneering
+progressed, the crowd became very noisy.
+
+There was Mr. Snag, a direct descendant of the founder of Snagtown, who
+claimed political honors. He was a candidate for County Judge. He had
+been one of the pioneers, had fought Indians, bears, wolves, panthers,
+and rattlesnakes, to establish this growing country. He had always been
+the workingman's friend, and was now ready to sacrifice himself on the
+official altar.
+
+Mr. Snag had been a clothing merchant, noted for close dealings with his
+customers and oppression of his employes; but two or three months before
+he announced himself a candidate, a change came over him. His harshness
+of voice and manner grew subdued. He became not agreeable only, but
+accommodating and charitable. He attended church and the bar-rooms
+regularly, and was developing into a general favorite. He was welcomed
+in the most select circles, yet he was not exclusive. No man was too
+ragged, too dirty, or too drunk to cause Mr. Snag to be ashamed of his
+society. He was more than changed; he was completely metamorphosed.
+
+On election day he was more affable than ever. He was at hand to lift up
+a drunken rowdy who had fallen over the pumpkin, and led him at once to
+the voting place, to poll his vote for himself and Breckinridge. But the
+pumpkin remained.
+
+Later in the day, two rowdies, from the country, having imbibed too much
+of the electioneering beverage, got in a quarrel. One struck the other,
+and he fell by the pumpkin. A friend of the fallen man seized the
+pumpkin, and broke it into fragments over the other man's head, bringing
+him to the ground, of course. A general melee was averted only by the
+appearance of some good-natured candidate, who tried to restore peace,
+followed by a couple of constables, who at once arrested the
+malcontents.
+
+In the afternoon Abner and Oleah went up to the polls. The two brothers
+had been silent during the forenoon, both seeming to avoid the political
+question which was agitating the Nation.
+
+"Who are you going to vote for, Abner?" asked Mr. Diggs, strutting up to
+the young planter with a smile he thought becoming a District Attorney.
+"Is it Breckinridge, Douglas, or constitutional unionist Bell?"
+
+"Neither," Abner answered.
+
+"Who, then, is your man?" asked the inquisitive Mr. Diggs, thrusting his
+hands deep into his pockets, and tipping first on his heels then on his
+toes, as he looked up, with an engaging smile, into the face of the man
+before him.
+
+"I shall vote for Abraham Lincoln," Abner answered firmly.
+
+"Pshaw! you are joking," said Mr. Diggs, his little eyes twinkling
+idiotically behind his glasses.
+
+"I was never more in earnest."
+
+"Why, man, they'd hang you if you voted for Lincoln!"
+
+"I shall risk it, at all events."
+
+His brother's words brought a sharp pain to Oleah's heart. He stopped
+suddenly, and laid a detaining hand on Abner's arm.
+
+"Abner, you surely do not intend to vote for that Abolitionist?" he
+said, with a ring of defiance in his voice.
+
+"I do," was the firm reply.
+
+"For heaven's sake, think what you are about. Do you want to ruin the
+country?" Entreaty and distress was melting his indignation.
+
+"No, I want to save it," was the calm reply.
+
+"How can it be that you will vote for an abolitionist?"
+
+"Because his principles and mine are the same," said Abner, earnestly.
+
+The brothers were nearer a quarrel than they had ever been in their
+lives. Oleah's feelings were wounded, and he turned away, leaving his
+brother to go his way alone.
+
+But three votes were polled in Snagtown for Abraham Lincoln, and Abner
+Tompkins, his father, and Uncle Dan, were supposed to have cast them.
+
+Late that evening Mr. Tompkins and his sons rode home. The trio were
+silent and thoughtful, but they little dreamed what that day's work
+would bring forth.
+
+Great was the consternation of the Southern leaders when the result of
+the election became known. Reports were fluctuating from the first, yet
+soon began to show favorable returns for Lincoln. Betting was heavy in
+Snagtown. In a few days the leaders began to threaten a dissolution,
+and, no sooner was it ascertained beyond a doubt that Mr. Lincoln was
+elected than they proceeded to put their menaces into execution. At this
+time secession was rife, the very air was full of it. Southern
+politicians alleged that Mr. Lincoln was a sectional candidate, pledged
+to the overthrow of slavery. On the 20th of December, 1860, a
+convention in Charleston declared that "the union before existing
+between South Carolina and other States, under the name of the United
+States of America, was dissolved."
+
+By the 1st of February, 1861, through the influence of the press and the
+devices of a few leaders, Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia,
+Louisiana, and Texas, following the example of South Carolina, had
+passed ordinances of secession, and their Senators and Representatives
+left their seats in the American Congress.
+
+On the 4th of February, delegates from six of the seceded States met at
+Montgomery, Alabama, and formed a union under the title of the
+"Confederate States of America." For provisional President they elected
+Mr. Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi, who had been a Colonel of some note
+in the Mexican War, a member of Pierce's cabinet, and a prominent
+advocate of Southern rights in the United States Senate.
+
+But we must now attend to the individuals in this history, whom other
+historians have neglected.
+
+On the evening of the 23d of December, 1860, Mr. Tompkins and his family
+were assembled in the large, cheerful sitting-room. The fire-place was
+piled with blazing logs, and the light and warmth of the room seemed
+more pleasant, contrasted with the soughing winds and falling snow
+without.
+
+No thought of the approaching holidays seemed to have entered the minds
+of any of the group. The brothers were silent and sat apart. The cloud,
+so small as to be scarcely discernable, was growing larger and
+overshadowing each. It had first been visible on election day, when they
+parted on the way to the polls. Though no allusion had ever been made to
+this conversation, their brotherly union had been shaken. They drove,
+rode, and hunted together as usual, but there was one question they
+could never approach without disagreeing, and disagreement was apt to
+produce disagreeable feelings.
+
+There was a ring at the bell, and the girl who answered the summons
+ushered in Uncle Dan, closely followed by Crazy Joe.
+
+"Good evenin' to ye all," said the old man, as he entered the cozy
+sitting room. "How do you all do?"
+
+"Pretty well, Uncle Dan. How are you and Joe this evening?" returned
+Mr. Tompkins, rising and grasping the hard, rough hand of the old
+hunter.
+
+"We ar' both purty well," said Uncle Dan, shaking hands with all
+present. "I tell ye what's a fact, it's gettin' cold out, an' no
+mistake, snowing just like blazes."
+
+Joe, who was in no talkative mood, took a seat in a corner, and fixed
+his gaze on the fire.
+
+"I thought from the way the wind whistled it had grown colder. Come,
+Maggie, fix Uncle Dan and Joe some supper," said the planter.
+
+"Ya-as, fur I'm hungry as a wolf," returned the old man, with the
+familiarity of a frequent and welcome guest.
+
+"Are you hungry, Joe?" asked Mrs. Tompkins.
+
+"I am, but it is written that man shall not live by bread alone, but by
+every word of God."
+
+"I'll put that ar' fellur agin any preacher in the settlement for
+quotin' Scriptur. He jest seems to know the whole thing by heart."
+
+"Have you heard any news recently?" Mr. Tompkins asked.
+
+"News! Don't talk about news! Jist wait till I've had some supper, an'
+I'll give ye a little mess o' news that'll make ye hair stand on ye
+head."
+
+After the mountaineer had partaken of a warm meal, and returned to the
+comfortable sitting-room, Mr. Tompkins asked:
+
+"What is that remarkable news, Uncle Dan?"
+
+"Wall, I kin tell it now," he answered, resuming his seat, "but I sw'ar
+it war too much for a empty stomach. About two hours ago the news first
+come to Snagtown, an' now the whole place is wild. The convention, which
+met at Charleston, South Carliny, three days ago, passed ordernances o'
+secession, and declar' the State out o' the Union."
+
+"Oh, pshaw! it must be a mistake," said Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Mistake? Not by a jug full. It ar' a actual fact. The news came in as
+straight as a crow flies. There war rumors o' it before, but now it's
+sartin."
+
+"Great heaven! that means civil war."
+
+"It means war, but it wont be civil, not by a jug full. They ar'
+already talkin' about musterin' men and gettin' ready to fight. Thar's
+to be a grand muster and speakin' at Snagtown next Saturday. They say
+that Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas ar'
+sure to foller South Carliny, in a few weeks, and maybe all them slave
+States, even Virginia and Missouri."
+
+"Have the people gone crazy?" cried Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"It's no more than might be expected," said Oleah. "The North has set
+her foot on the South, and if she feels like withdrawing from the
+partnership, she certainly has a right to do so."
+
+"Partnership?" put in Abner, with an astonished look.
+
+"It is merely a confederation of States, formed by a compact, and, if
+one wishes to withdraw, she has the right," answered Oleah.
+
+"Our Government is formed by the people, and not by the States," said
+Abner.
+
+"Then, why is it not called the United People, and not the United
+States? Each State is a separate corporation, capable of suing and being
+sued, contracting and dissolving contracts. They were originally
+colonies, but when they freed themselves from Great Britain, for
+protection and safety, they united. Who can doubt that South Carolina
+has not the right, when she has become capable of taking care of
+herself, to withdraw from others?"
+
+"There is a great difference between corporations and governments," said
+Abner. "Our Constitution does not say, 'We, the United States,' 'As the
+people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union.'
+When they belonged to England, they were considered as a whole and not
+as a part. In the Declaration of Independence, declaring the Colonies
+free and independent States, does so in the name and by the authority of
+the good people whom they represented, and not of the States."
+
+"All that sounds very well, Abner," said Oleah, bitterly, "but words
+will have no effect on an oppressed and downtrodden people. The South
+will be free--"
+
+"Yes, if they have to enslave one-half of humanity to do so,"
+interrupted Abner.
+
+"That's just the point Abolitionists are driving to, though few are as
+honest as you to admit. The slaves make the South wealthy and powerful.
+The North is jealous and wants to deprive us of the means of wealth.
+There is but one remedy left us--the same remedy adopted by the Colonies
+when oppressed by Great Britain--withdraw, rebel."
+
+"You are too hasty," said Abner, more coolly. "You have no assurance
+that when Abraham Lincoln does take his seat, the 4th of March next, he
+will abolish slavery. Wait and see."
+
+"Wait and see?" cried Oleah. "Wait until he has withdrawn every gun and
+armed vessel from the South? Wait until he has overrun the whole country
+with armed soldiers? Wait until he has bound us hand and foot? Then what
+can we do? No! Now is the time for action."
+
+"I don't believe Lincoln will free the negroes," said Abner.
+
+"I will stake my life as the wager," said Oleah, "that before his term
+of office expires, he declares _every negro in the United States a free
+American citizen_, war or no war. Mark my words and see if I am not a
+true prophet."
+
+"Come, come, boys, we have had political discussion enough for the
+present," said Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"Ya-as," said Uncle Dan, "we don't want the civil war to commence
+to-night; least of all places, heah. One thing sure about it, you
+youngsters had better let us old folks talk 'bout these things, we can
+do it without gettin' so red in the face. The whole country is in a bad
+fix, an' ef it comes to a smash up, I swar I don't want to see it begin
+between brothers."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+MR. DIGGS IN A NEW FIELD.
+
+
+Mr. Diggs was defeated for the office of county attorney by a large
+majority, but he was young and buoyant, and after a few days of repining
+began to revive.
+
+A new excitement took possession of him. Strange talk came to his ears,
+and his little round eyes glistened with delight from behind his
+glasses, and his little round lips parted with smiles of pleasure. War
+on a gigantic scale--a new Nation, with new men at its head--was the
+all-absorbing topic. The Union was shattered, and a new Nation was
+rising out of the ruins and fragments of the old.
+
+Mr. Diggs concluded to espouse the cause of the new Nation. He would
+raise a company of volunteers to fight its battles; he would be captain.
+From captain he would be promoted for his bravery to colonel, from
+colonel to brigadier-general, or commander-in-chief. Mr. Diggs' fertile
+imagination planned a glorious future for himself. Other men had risen
+from obscurity to renown, and why not he?
+
+He strutted about with his hands thrust deep into his pockets, reveling
+already in his future greatness. The new and powerful Nation was his
+all-absorbing theme. When he met any one he would say:
+
+"Well, what's the news, and what's the prospect of war?"
+
+The prospect was very good, every one thought.
+
+One day, talking with a young man about his own age, but cooler and less
+blood-thirsty, Mr. Diggs said they were too slow about fighting. Since
+the surrender of Twiggs in Texas no other event had transpired, and such
+indifference was monstrous.
+
+"Don't be in a hurry, Diggs," said his friend. "Let them have time for
+consideration."
+
+"There's no need of consideration. I am ready now. I will go, like
+Marion, to avenge my country's wrongs," said Diggs.
+
+"This is war against our own countrymen," said his friend, "and I don't
+think there is any place in either rank for me."
+
+"There is a place for me," said Diggs, strutting about with his hands in
+his pockets and expectorating profusely. "My country needs me, and I
+reckon there's a place for me."
+
+"Will you take a colonelcy to commence with?" his friend asked, with a
+smile.
+
+"I don't expect a colonelcy at first," said Diggs. "I want to start at
+the foot of the ladder, as captain, and gradually rise until I am
+commander-in-chief."
+
+"You would make such a noble-looking general!" said a bystander,
+surveying the fat little fellow.
+
+"You can talk, Howard Jones, but I--hem! hem!--have always had a taste
+for military life."
+
+"You would make such a fine-looking commander," said Jones. "Mounted on
+a tall charger you would yourself strike terror to the enemy."
+
+"I can prove that all generals were small men," said Diggs, strutting
+about.
+
+"Of course they were; but you--you would kill all your enemies. They
+would die with laughter when they saw a general on a horse seventeen
+hands high, looking like a bug on a log."
+
+"Oh, talk sense, Jones."
+
+"On a big war-horse you would look very much like a bug on a log," said
+Jones. "But wouldn't it be grand for Crazy Joe's mud man to turn out a
+general?"
+
+"Can't you talk sense, or are you a fool?" roared the exasperated Diggs;
+and, unable longer to endure the ridicule of his companions, he turned
+abruptly around and left the crowd gathered about him.
+
+The Winter of 1860-61 passed away; but little had been done in Snagtown
+save mustering and speech-making. Those in favor of open rebellion were
+in the minority in the neighborhood, but those in favor of neutrality in
+the majority; but those in favor of standing for the Stars and Stripes
+the smallest class of all.
+
+Patrick Henry Diggs was in a dilemma. His ambition pointed him to the
+battle-field, that his great abilities, which no one seemed to
+appreciate, might be shown to the world. The idea of a new Nation
+dazzled him and showed a path as splendor for his willing feet to
+follow. But he felt reluctant to draw his sword against the flag of
+Washington and Marion. He was sure, however, that these turbulent times
+meant something great for himself. He never lost an opportunity to
+muster in the ranks of the Home Guards or to make a speech.
+
+The eastern part of Virginia seceded on April 17, 1861, but the
+northwestern portion, about Snagtown, was at peace, save from the
+mustering of Home Guards to protect home and families from the
+incursions of either army.
+
+Oleah Tompkins was an avowed secessionist, attended the Meetings of the
+Knights of the Golden Circle, and was already sworn to support the
+Southern cause. Secret meetings were taking place all over the country,
+and night meetings held three or four times a week.
+
+Mr. Diggs joined one of these secret organizations, and met with them
+one night in an old school-house which stood on the side of an abandoned
+road, about four miles from Snagtown in the direction of the Twin
+Mountains. About forty in all had assembled there, among them Howard
+Jones and Seth Williams, two men who seemed, Mr. Diggs thought, to live
+only to annoy him.
+
+Mr. Diggs had come to the meeting with the intention of making one of
+his most patriotic speeches; but when he discovered his old enemies,
+their eyes sparkling with mischief, his heart sank within him.
+
+Nearly all present were armed with shot-guns, rifles and pistols, and a
+guard was placed about the school-house. Preliminary matters settled,
+Howard Jones rose and addressed the chairman of the meeting, stating
+that, as they had with them the distinguished attorney, Patrick Henry
+Diggs, who was in sympathy with the cause, he would like to hear from
+him.
+
+Despite the stirring times, everybody present was eagerly expectant of
+fun. Cries for Diggs were heard all over the house. Mr. Diggs' opinion
+of Jones rose rapidly.
+
+"Mr. Speaker," began Mr. Diggs, rising and gazing about through his
+glasses, "in the language of one of old
+
+
+     "'I come not here to talk. You know too well
+     The story of our thralldom.--'"
+
+
+Here he made a gesture with both hands, which Jones declared looked like
+a turtle trying to crawl up hill.
+
+
+                              "'We are slaves.'"
+
+
+A solemn pause.
+
+
+     "'The bright sun rises to his course, and lights
+     A race of slaves; he sets, and his last beam
+     Falls on a slave.
+     Friends, Romans, countrymen--'"
+
+
+"I say," interrupted Seth Williams, in an audible whisper, nudging the
+orator, "s'pose you leave Rome, and come down to our present age. Give
+us something about the new Confederacy."
+
+"That's just what I am coming to," said Mr. Diggs, "and I hope you will
+not interrupt me again." After a short pause he resumed:
+
+"It is no common cause which brings us here to-night. Tyrants and
+traitors are abroad in the land. A gigantic foe is invading the fair
+soil of Virginia, and we are here to protect our firesides. All law
+writers, from Blackstone down, agree that all men should protect their
+homes. Now, fellow-citizens, remember our forefathers all fought, and
+bled, and died for this glorious Union." [Applause.]
+
+"Touch lightly on that," whispered Jones.
+
+"I repeat" said Mr. Diggs, "that Washington was the greatest man that
+ever lived." And now, grown eloquent and excited, he mounted a bench and
+whipped his left hand under the tails of his coat, while he waved his
+right in vehement gesture.
+
+All the efforts of Seth Williams and Howard Jones to keep him on the
+track were unavailing. He commenced to speak about the Stars and
+Stripes.
+
+"Oh, thunder! go back to Rome if you can't make a better secession
+speech," said Jones.
+
+The truth was that Mr. Diggs, like a great many others at this time,
+hardly knew which side he was on. When he swore to preserve the Union at
+all hazards, his astonished friends pulled him down.
+
+A call was made for volunteers, and Mr. Diggs was the first to enroll
+his name. Though calling themselves a Home Guard, these volunteers were
+really enrolled in the army of the Southern Confederacy. Oleah Tompkins
+was among the first to thus espouse the Southern cause.
+
+The clouds of war grew darker and darker every hour. At any moment the
+storm might burst in all its fury. Snagtown was in a constant state of
+excitement as the crisis approached. Her more timid citizens trembled
+with dread.
+
+Henry Smith, a farmer's son, a young man of limited education, but of
+strong common sense, stood in the street one bright morning, engaged in
+conversation with Seth Williams.
+
+"Come, now, Harry," said Williams, persuasively, "you had better come in
+with us. The time has come, or will soon come, when our homes will have
+to be defended. We shall be overrun with soldierly hirelings, who will
+rob and burn and murder as they go. Our families will need protection,
+and this duty devolves on us."
+
+"But, Seth, some say the Home Guard will be marched South into the
+Confederate army."
+
+"Oh, nothing of the kind," said Williams. "Our only object is to protect
+our homes from the soldiers of both sides, and to meddle with neither
+unless they invade our State."
+
+"I think we are justified in protecting our own interests; but, though I
+despise Abraham Lincoln, I cannot raise my hand against the old Stars
+and Stripes."
+
+"Oh, there is no danger that you will be forced into the Confederate
+army. We are only organizing a Home Guard now; if we raise troops for
+the South, that will be another thing."
+
+"When do you meet again?" asked Harry.
+
+"To-morrow night; we go into camp next week in real earnest."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"On Wolf Creek, about three or four miles away, between here and the
+Twin Mountains."
+
+"Where do you meet to-morrow night?"
+
+"At the school-house on the road between here and Twin Mountains."
+
+"I will be there," said Harry.
+
+As Williams walked away, a young man who had been observing the two with
+keen interest, approached Harry and said:
+
+"I can tell what you and Seth Williams were talking about."
+
+"I will give you three guesses, Abner," said Harry, laughing.
+
+"He was trying to persuade you to enlist in the Home Guards."
+
+"That was just it," replied Harry.
+
+"Don't do it, Harry, or you will repent it. I tell you the name Home
+Guard is only a cover, and every one who enlists will be in the
+Confederate army in three months. Unless you mean to take up arms
+against your country, keep clear of the Home Guard."
+
+"I don't want to fight in Lincoln's army, nor do I want to enter the
+confederate ranks, so I thought the Home Guards would be the place for
+me."
+
+"Don't you enlist," said Abner Tompkins, "or you will repent it."
+
+As Harry walked away, Mr. Diggs came along, his short legs, in rapid
+motion, resembling the thick spokes of a wheelbarrow, and his head
+inclined backward at an angle of forty-five degrees, and his glasses, as
+usual, on his nose, and his little fat hands thrust deep into his
+pockets.
+
+"Hold on, Diggs!" said Abner. "I want to speak to you."
+
+"Hem, hem, hem!" began Mr. Diggs. "Good morning, Mr. Tompkins.
+Well--hem--I am--that is, I am--hem--glad to see you. I was just going
+to have my man drive me out to your house. Have a little important
+business with--that is with one member of your family, he--he he!"
+
+"Diggs, I hear that you have enlisted in the Confederate army; is it
+so?" asked Abner, abruptly.
+
+"Well, sir, I expect--that is, I apprehend, my dear sir,
+that--you--perhaps are correctly informed."
+
+"Why, Diggs, what in the world do you mean?" asked Abner.
+
+"Oh, our country is too large; should be divided. We intend to build up
+a vast Southern empire. The North has always trampled on our rights, and
+it is time for us to resist."
+
+"But how do you intend to resist? By overthrowing the best government
+the world has ever known? Build up a Southern empire! Is not the grand
+old republic established by Washington good enough for you? The North is
+not trampling on your rights. Your wrongs are imaginary. And as to our
+country being too large, can a nation like ours grow too powerful?
+Think, Diggs, before you act, or, like Calhoun, you may expect
+Washington to come to you in sleep, and place the black spot on your
+hand which Arnold wears in the other world. Think Diggs! Don't raise
+your hand against your country without well considering the matter."
+
+Diggs, for a few minutes, was silent, and then he said:
+
+"I think you are right, Abner. I will not prove a traitor to my country.
+I shall ask to have my name taken off the roll to-morrow night."
+
+"Do so, or you will surely repent it as you live. If you want military
+honors, seek them in the ranks of your country. There is a call for
+seventy-five thousand volunteers."
+
+"You are right, you are right. I will go and volunteer. Where shall I
+go?"
+
+"We are raising a company at the junction, about twenty miles from
+here."
+
+"I will go day after to-morrow, but I am in a hurry now. I am going to
+your house on business. The fact is--I don't mind telling the facts to
+you--I am going on purpose to see Miss Irene. He, he, he! I am
+determined to see how I stand there, he, he, he!"
+
+Abner started back in amazement, but Mr. Diggs hurried away, without
+observing his movement.
+
+"The consummate fool!" muttered Abner. "The idiot! To think of our
+Irene!"
+
+Mr. Diggs hurried off with an air of much importance, and ordered Mose
+to make ready the carriage, and drive him to the Tompkins mansion.
+
+Mose was not as quick of movement as he had been fifty years before, but
+he managed to have the equipage in readiness by four o'clock in the
+afternoon.
+
+At Mr. Tompkins' door Mr. Diggs alighted, to be informed by Miss Irene's
+maid that her mistress was calling with Mrs. Tompkins, and would not
+return for an hour.
+
+"I will wait," said Mr. Diggs. "I must--hem, hem--must see Miss Irene."
+
+After a few moments of waiting Mr. Diggs became tired of sitting in the
+house and sauntered out to the piazza, and there met the ladies on their
+return.
+
+"Miss Irene,--hem, hem, hem," he began advancing. "I am delighted to see
+you, I--hem--that is--hem--I came on purpose to see you, and--and talk
+with you, and bid you good-by before I leave for the field of glory. I
+have joined the Confederate army--hem--no, I mean to say I am going to
+join the Union army in a day or two. That is, I don't know exactly which
+army I shall join yet--and I come to bid you adieu."
+
+Irene looked a little puzzled and felt not a little annoyed at this
+address. There was something she did not like about Mr. Diggs' manner.
+
+"Will you come in?" she said, "and I will see you presently."
+
+Mr. Diggs accordingly re-entered the house, and Irene went up to her
+room to change her dress. She managed to detain herself until tea was
+announced and then invited Mr. Diggs to the dining-room.
+
+After tea the little fellow followed her back to the parlor, and she
+resigned herself to be bored for an hour or more by him, but did not yet
+suspect the real cause of his visit.
+
+"Hem--hem," began Mr. Diggs, "Miss Irene, these are troublous times."
+
+"They are indeed," answered Irene, from her seat opposite the loquacious
+Mr. Diggs.
+
+"We don't know one minute what will happen the next."
+
+"No, we do not," said Irene, who really did not imagine what was to
+happen on this occasion.
+
+"Hem, hem! two large armies are raising."
+
+"So I am informed," said Irene.
+
+"And they mean destruction to each other."
+
+"I fear some damage will be done."
+
+"Hem, hem! Sumter has fallen."
+
+"So I have heard."
+
+"Deuce take it!" thought Mr. Diggs aside, "she is as cool as an
+iceberg, and I am getting flurried. What had I better say or do next?"
+Then a short pause.
+
+"Some of your friends will doubtless take part in the coming struggle,"
+he finally said.
+
+"I fear they will be rash enough to do so," she replied.
+
+"And some may go to return no more,"--voice and eyes were growing
+pathetic.
+
+"Alas! such is too often the fate of war."
+
+"I have concluded to enter the army."
+
+"A great many young men are now talking of going into the army."
+
+"I feel that my country needs my services."
+
+"You are patriotic."
+
+Mr. Diggs felt flattered.
+
+"You are--hem--hem, very kind, Miss Irene, to attribute patriotism to
+me. Patriotism, true patriotism is one of man's most noble attributes."
+
+"I agree with you."
+
+"But, Miss Irene, it is hard to go, even to our country's aid, and leave
+behind friends dearer to us than life."
+
+"Mercy!" mentally ejaculated Irene, "does the little fool mean to
+propose?" Then, still without any encouraging warmth in her tone, she
+asked, "When do you expect to leave Snagtown?"
+
+"In two or three days at most, and I feel--hem--pardon me, Miss Irene."
+He rose and drew his chair nearer hers.
+
+"He really means it!" thought Irene, her eyes bright, half with
+mischief, half with annoyance.
+
+"I have something--hem, hem, hem!--I wish to say to you. I--I--that
+is--hem--I cannot leave for the field of danger until I--have--hem, hem!
+until I have revealed to you my feelings."
+
+Mr. Diggs paused, and tried to look sentimental; but a more sheepish,
+simple-looking specimen of humanity Irene was sure she had never before
+beheld.
+
+The farce had been carried too far, and she said coldly:
+
+"Your manner and words are quite incomprehensible, Mr. Diggs."
+
+"I will make myself plain," said Mr. Diggs, swallowing something in his
+throat, and taking hope. "You shall understand me. I say I cannot leave
+for the field of battle, cannot face the cannon's mouth, in this
+suspense--"
+
+"Then don't go, Mr. Diggs," interrupted Irene, with difficulty
+restraining her merriment, all her pity put to flight by his affectation
+and conceit.
+
+"I should almost feel inclined to turn a deaf ear to the 'obstreperous
+trump of fame,' and 'only list to love and thine,' should you command me
+to stay."
+
+"Sir, you are growing more and more incomprehensible. Let us leave this
+subject."
+
+"Not yet, oh no, not yet! Wait until you have heard all. I love you,
+Irene, dearest, and--and--ah! come to my arms and say you will be mine!"
+
+Down he went on one knee, with upturned face and out-stretched arms.
+Poor Irene felt an almost irresistible impulse to laugh, and for a
+moment dared not speak.
+
+He mistook her silence and again began to plead.
+
+"Speak, O brightest sylph, fairer than the angels, sweeter than--hem,
+hem!--than the honey in the honey-comb!"
+
+"For mercy's sake, stand up, Mr. Diggs!" said Irene.
+
+"Not until you say you will be mine!" and his arms expanded, like an
+opened double gate.
+
+"Then Mr. Diggs, I fear you will never reach the field of glory, for the
+war will be over before you rise from your knees," said Irene.
+
+"Oh! ah! Hem, hem! You cannot be so cruel,"--still kneeling, and leaning
+further forward, as though to compel her to his embrace.
+
+"Mr. Diggs, you can never be to me more than a friend. Pray, do not
+pursue the subject further."
+
+"Miss Irene, dear, dear Miss Irene, you utterly wreck my life! I care
+not a straw for it now!" whined little Mr. Diggs, turning, still on his
+knees, towards Irene who had crossed the room, the most pitiful of
+faces.
+
+No answer.
+
+"You are--hem, hem!--very cruel, Miss Irene," he rose and awkwardly took
+his seat.
+
+"I regret to have given you pain," said Irene graciously, as, at Mr.
+Diggs' request, she rang for his carriage, "but I am sure you will soon
+forget it, and will see that you had mistaken your feelings."
+
+As Mr. Diggs was in the act of getting into his carriage the sound of
+horse's feet came to his ear, and a moment later Oleah Tompkins galloped
+up to the side of the old rockaway.
+
+"Halloo, Diggs! are you just leaving?" asked Oleah.
+
+"Yes--hem, hem!--I am going home," said Diggs.
+
+"Well, be on hand to-morrow night without fail, now. We want every
+member of the company there, as we shall go into camp in a day or two."
+
+"Well,--hem, hem, hem!--Oleah, I have almost concluded not to go. I can
+not--hem, hem!--take up arms against the flag of Washington."
+
+"Oh, that's abolitionist nonsense! What care you for a flag that will
+not protect you?"
+
+"That's so," said Diggs.
+
+"Then why should we consent to bow our necks to tyrant's heels simply
+because the great and good Washington fought under a rag with certain
+stripes and certain stars upon it?"
+
+"That is so. Hem, hem, hem! 'They first have breathed treason.'"
+
+"Yes, they stole our property. The interests of the North and South are
+directly opposite. They want to ruin us, and we must protect ourselves
+while we can. We can not live in peace with the North; the next best
+thing is to separate."
+
+"That's so,--hem, hem!--that's so," said Mr. Diggs.
+
+"Then why refuse to enter the Confederate army? The South is your
+country, and if you want military renown seek it in the ranks of your
+country. If they call you a rebel be proud of the name. Washington and
+Marion were rebels."
+
+Mr. Diggs was completely won back to the Southern cause; and, assuring
+Oleah he would be with them the next night, drove away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE CHASM OPENS.
+
+
+The storm clouds were gathering dark about the Tompkins mansion. The
+heads of the household were silent on the question, each knowing the
+different feelings and sympathies of the other. Their sons were also
+silent, but there was a sullenness in their silence that foretold the
+coming strife. There was one member of the once happy household who
+could not comprehend the trouble, whose very gentleness kept her in
+ignorance of the threatened danger.
+
+Yet neither love nor loving care could keep her from knowing that
+trouble was brewing. She could not but notice the coldness gradually
+growing between the two brothers. Brothers whose affection she once
+thought no earthly power could lessen, were growing daily colder and
+more and more estranged. Every morning each mounted his horse, and rode
+away alone, and it was always late in the night when they came home,
+never together. Gloomy and silent, the morning meal was hurried through,
+the pleasant conversation that had always accompanied it, was heard no
+more, if we except the efforts of Irene, who strove with all her power
+to infuse some of the old-time harmony and brightness into the altered
+family.
+
+It was the evening of Mr. Diggs' visit to the Tompkins mansion, one of
+those clear bright evenings when the curtains of night seem reluctant to
+fall, and the fluttering folds seem held apart to reveal the beauty of
+the dying day. Irene sat by the window, gazing up at the dark blue
+vault, and listening to the far-off song of a whip-poor-will upon the
+lonely hillside. Nature to her had never seemed more calm or lovely. The
+moon, serenely bright, shed mellow light over the landscape, and the
+dark old forest on whose trees the early buds had swelled into green
+leaves, lay in a quiet repose. Only man, of all created things seemed
+unresting. Far down the road she heard the clatter of horses' hoofs. At
+all times now, day and night, she heard them.
+
+Clatter, clatter, clatter--sleeping or waking, it was always the same,
+always this beat of hoofs. To her it seemed as if ten thousand dragoons
+were constantly galloping, galloping, galloping down the great road:
+somewhere their marshalled thousands must be gathering. Horsemen singly,
+horsemen in pairs, horsemen in groups, were galloping, galloping, until
+her ears ached with the awful din.
+
+As she looked, a horseman came dashing down the hill; he passed through
+the gate and down the avenue.
+
+"That must be either Abner or Oleah," thought Irene. "Six months ago,
+they would have gone and returned together."
+
+When he stepped on the piazza, the moon fell on his face and revealed
+the features of Abner Tompkins. He came rapidly up the steps and into
+the house. Staying only a few moments in the room below, where his
+parents were, then came directly to Irene's door and knocked.
+
+She bade him come in.
+
+"Irene," he said in tremulous tones, "I have strange news for you. I
+must leave to-night for months perhaps, perhaps forever, my home, my
+parents--and you."
+
+Irene sprang to his side eager and excited.
+
+"Why, Abner, what do you mean?"
+
+"Is it such a surprise to you? I will try to speak calmly, but I have
+only a few moments to stay. I have a load on my heart that I must
+unburden to you."
+
+"What is it?" she said, drawing a low stool to his feet and seating
+herself she took both his hands in her own. "Tell me what troubles you,
+let me share it with you. Who should share your troubles if not your
+sister?"
+
+"Irene, what I have to say will shock you."
+
+"No, no, it will not. If you have done anything wrong, I shall be sure
+it was not your fault--"
+
+"No, you misunderstand me; it is nothing I have done," he interrupted.
+
+"Then what is this secret, brother?"
+
+"_I am not your brother._"
+
+Irene had promised that his secret should not shock her, yet had a
+bombshell burst at her feet, she could not have been more astonished.
+
+She sprang from the low stool, and stood with clasped hands, the color
+fading from her face, her slight form swaying as though she had received
+a blow.
+
+Abner, alarmed, sprang from his chair, and caught her in his arms.
+
+"Irene, Irene, don't take it so," he said, bending tenderly over the
+white face.
+
+"_Not my brother?_ Why you must be mad!" she gasped.
+
+"Irene, I am not your brother, but I love you a thousand times more
+fondly than a brother could love. It was this I wanted to tell you
+before I leave you. What, Irene, weeping--weeping because I am not your
+brother! My darling, let me be nearer and dearer than a brother!"
+
+"Abner, I can not realize it, I can not think!" she said, pressing her
+hands to her throbbing temples.
+
+"Think of it when I am gone, Irene, for I must go. To-morrow's sun must
+find me miles from here. But through all the coming strife I shall
+cherish your image. I shall hope for your love if I return. Now,
+good-by, my love, my Irene!"
+
+He caught her in his arms, but it was only a sisterly embrace that Irene
+returned. She could not yet believe that Abner was not her brother.
+
+He went down stairs, she heard his mother's sobs, his father's broken
+voice; the door opened and closed, and from her window she saw him pass
+down the avenue, out of sight. Soon she heard a horse galloping down the
+road, and knew that Abner was riding swiftly away in the gathering
+darkness.
+
+Completely overcome, and not daring to meet Mr. or Mrs. Tompkins till
+she had controlled herself, Irene, throwing a light shawl about her
+shoulders, went down stairs, stepped through an open window out on the
+broad piazza. The cool night air fanned her cheeks and revived her
+spirits. She walked through the grounds to a summer house covered with
+trailing vines whose fragrant flowers filled the air with sweetest
+odors.
+
+"It can not be, it can not be," she murmured. "He was surely jesting. I
+an outcast or foundling or a oh! merciful Heaven! I can not endure the
+thought!" and her beautiful eyes filled with tears. The whip-poor-will's
+call still sounded from the distant hillside, and soon another sound
+broke the evening stillness--the tread of a man's feet on the graveled
+walk. Irene turned her head quickly, and saw Oleah standing in the
+doorway.
+
+"I thought I should find you here, Irene," he said. "You always choose
+this arbor on moonlight evenings."
+
+"You have been absent all day, Oleah. What fearful business is it that
+keeps both my brothers from my side!"
+
+"Ah! Heaven be praised, Irene, darling Irene, that you know nothing of
+it!"
+
+"Abner left to-night, perhaps never to return he said," she went on,
+wiping the tears from her face.
+
+"I see you have been weeping, dear Irene. I have more news for you. I
+too have to bid you what may prove a long farewell. I leave to-night for
+our camp, and shall soon march to join the main army. But I can not
+leave you, Irene, without telling you of something I have long kept a
+secret."
+
+Irene could not speak; sobs choked her voice. Then from Oleah's lips
+fell those same startling words:
+
+"I am not your brother."
+
+She sat motionless. Then it must be true. They could not both be
+mistaken, could not both possess the same hallucination. If anyone was
+mad, it was herself. But Oleah went on in his quick passionate way:
+
+"You are not my sister, dearest Irene, and that you are not gives me
+only joy. When you were left at our house a tiny baby, I claimed you for
+my sister, and when I learned you could not be my sister, I said you
+should one day be my wife. I loved from the first time those bright eyes
+laughed into mine, and that love has grown with my growth and
+strengthened with my strength, until it has taken possession of my
+entire being. O, Irene, Irene, you can never know how deep is the love I
+have born you from early childhood. I could not leave this old home
+without telling you that I loved you with more than a brother's love."
+
+He paused, and Irene remained silent.
+
+"Speak, Irene! Will you not speak?"
+
+She was still silent, her large dark eyes fixed and staring, her white
+lips motionless, her whole form rigid as a statue. She thought of
+Abner's parting words, and pain and terror filled her soul. Had she
+entered this happy home only to bring discord, to widen the breach
+between the two brothers?
+
+"O Irene, Irene," he pleaded, "by the memory of our happy childhood I
+implore you, speak once more before I go. Say that you will love me,
+that you will pray for me--pray for my safe return, pray for my soul if
+I fall in battle!"
+
+The marble statue found voice.
+
+"I will pray for you, Oleah, to heaven day and night, for your safe
+return."
+
+"But will you give me your love? O Irene, if you only knew how dear you
+are to me, you will surely learn to love me!"
+
+"I have always given you a sister's warmest love, Oleah," she replied,
+"and this is all too new, too strange, for me to change so suddenly."
+
+"But you promise you will change?" he asked eagerly.
+
+"I can not promise yet," she said. "I do not know myself, and neither do
+you comprehend your own feelings."
+
+"Irene, dearest, I have known myself for years. Try to love me, and pray
+for me," he said, and taking both her hands as she came to his side,
+"for now I must go." He stooped and pressed a kiss on those white lips,
+and Irene was alone. Soon she heard again the hoof beats of a flying
+horse, and knew that Oleah had left his home.
+
+When he had returned to bid farewell to his home, Abner Tompkins, before
+entering the house, walked down the long gravel walk, through the avenue
+of grand old elms, until the outer gate was reached. Here he paused a
+moment, and gazed up at the moon riding through the dark blue,
+fathomless vault of heaven; then he turned his gaze upon the spacious
+pillared mansion, his pleasant home, that he was to leave that night,
+perhaps forever. It was the home of his childhood; beneath its roof
+dwelt those he loved; and feelings of sadness filled his heart as he
+realized the fact that he must leave it. On his right lay the great
+road, the road that, in his boyhood, he had imagined, led to far-off
+lands and fairy kingdoms; the road he had thought must be endless, and
+had desired to follow to its end. Across the road was the forest where
+he and his brother had so often wandered. Every spot seemed hallowed
+with sacred remembrances of childhood, and associated with every object
+and every thought was that brother from whom he was gradually drifting
+away. He stood beneath the old hickory tree, whose nuts they had
+gathered, and whose topmost branches they had climbed in their
+adventurous boyhood. To-night all were fading away. He was going to
+different scenes, to see strange faces, to meet hardships, danger,
+perhaps death; worse than all to draw his sword against that very
+brother whose life had so long been one with his.
+
+"Oh, what a curse is civil war," said Abner, with a sigh, "dividing
+nations, people and kindred." And, leaning against the trunk of the
+giant old hickory, he stood for a moment lost in painful reverie.
+
+The beat of a horse's hoofs aroused him, and he saw his brother
+approaching. To reach the house he was compelled to pass within a few
+feet of the hickory tree, and must inevitably discover Abner, who,
+however, made no effort to conceal himself. Standing in the shade of the
+tree as he was, Oleah did not see his brother until he was within a few
+feet of him, and then could not distinguish his features.
+
+"Halloo, whom have we here?" he said, reining in his horse abruptly.
+
+"Who is there? Speak quick, or it may be the worse for you," cried
+impetuous Oleah, not receiving an immediate answer.
+
+"It is I, Oleah," said Abner, stepping from under the branches of the
+old tree.
+
+The two brothers had grown more and more estranged, but as yet there had
+been no open rupture between them.
+
+"Well, I might inquire what you are doing there?" said Oleah.
+
+"And I might ask what you are doing here, and where you are going, and
+a hundred other questions. If I were to tell you I was star-gazing you
+would not believe me."
+
+"I don't know; I might," said Oleah. "You were sentimental at times when
+a boy, and the habit of looking at the moon and stars may have followed
+you into maturer years."
+
+"I was just thinking," said Abner, "that this tree is very old, yet very
+hale."
+
+"It is," answered Oleah; "it was a full grown tree when I first remember
+seeing it."
+
+"Yes, and we have often climbed its branches or swung beneath them."
+
+"That is all true," said Oleah, restlessly, "but why talk of that, above
+all other times, to-night?"
+
+"It brings pleasant memories of our happy childhood. And why not
+to-night as well as any other time?" said Abner.
+
+"I have reasons for not wishing to talk or to think of the past
+to-night," said Oleah. "I have enough to trouble me without bringing up
+recollections that are now anything but pleasant."
+
+"Recollections of childhood are always pleasant to me," said Abner, "and
+when storms of passion sway me, such thoughts calm the storm and soothe
+my turbulent mind once more to peace."
+
+"Have you been in a rage to-night?" asked Oleah, with a smile.
+
+"No."
+
+"Then why are you conjuring recollections of the past?"
+
+"I have not conjured them up; they come unbidden. This night, _above all
+others_, I would not drive the thoughts of our past away."
+
+"And why?" asked Oleah, uneasily.
+
+"Because this night we part, Oleah, perhaps forever."
+
+Oleah, rash, hot-headed, fiery Oleah, had a tender heart in his bosom,
+and now he was trembling with emotion, although he made an effort to
+appear calm.
+
+"How do you know that we are to part to-night?" he asked.
+
+"We are both going from our home, and going in different directions. We
+are standing on opposite sides of a gulf momentarily growing wider."
+
+A fearful suspicion crossed Oleah's mind. "Do you leave home to-night?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"To join the army of my country and the Union."
+
+Oleah started back as if he had received a stunning blow in the face.
+Abner was aware that Oleah had enlisted in the Confederate army, but
+Oleah did not dream that his brother would enter the army of the North.
+
+"Abner, Abner," he cried, hurriedly dismounting from his horse and
+coming to his brother's side, "for heaven's sake say that it is not
+true!"
+
+"But it is true," said Abner sadly. "To-night we separate, you to fight
+for the cause of the South, I for the preservation of the Union."
+
+"O Abner, O my brother, how can you be so blinded? It is a war between
+the North and South, the only object of the North being to give freedom
+to our slaves. You will see if the North _should_ be successful, that
+every negro in the land will be freed."
+
+"And you will see that the North has no such intentions. Mr. Lincoln,
+although a Republican, was born in a slave State, and he will not free
+the slaves. But, Oleah, it is useless for us to discuss these matters;
+we part to-night, and let us--"
+
+"But should we meet," said Oleah, his hot blood mounting to his face,
+"it will be as enemies. You are my brother now, but when you don the
+hated uniform of an Abolition soldier you will be my enemy; for I have
+sworn by the eternal heavens to cut asunder every tie of friendship or
+kindred when I find them arrayed against our cause."
+
+"Oleah," said Abner, "be not too rash in your vows. Do not make them
+just yet."
+
+"I have already made them; and whoever confronts me with a blue coat and
+a Yankee musket is an enemy, whatever blood runs in his veins."
+
+"I pray that we may never meet thus," said Abner. "Rather would I have
+you find among the slain the body of one you no longer own as a
+brother."
+
+One of the stable men now appeared, leading Abner's horse. Oleah's hot
+passion was gone; his eyes were misty, his voice was choked. The
+brothers clasped hands in silence, and five minutes later Abner was
+galloping down the great road.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE BEGINNING OF SOLDIER LIFE.
+
+
+A curious scene presented itself at the Junction. But before we attempt
+to describe the former, we will give the reader some idea of the latter.
+The Junction was the terminus of one railroad and the junction of two
+others. One of the railroads led to Washington, one to Pittsburg, and
+one to Baltimore. It was not a large town; a village of perhaps twelve
+or fifteen hundred inhabitants, blackened by the smoke of engines. The
+surrounding country was broken and rough, with hills rising upon hills,
+deep ravines, rocky gorges, and winding streams, lined with a luxuriant
+growth of pine and maple, while far away in the distance the gray peaks
+of mountains could be seen.
+
+The Junction was about twenty miles north-east of Snagtown, there being
+no railroad to the latter place, though there was a hard beaten
+turnpike, with a daily mail-coach running between the two. Some of the
+houses about the Junction were of brick, but the majority of wood. There
+were neat little cottages, looking like fairy abodes, amid the green
+vines and blooming flowers of Spring-time, and there were cottages
+neither neat nor fairy-like in aspect; the log hovel, showing signs of
+decay and neglect. But the village, taken as a whole, was a very pretty
+place.
+
+It was about the 1st of May. The President had called for eighty-two
+thousand more men, finding seventy-five thousand wholly inadequate to
+put down the rebellion. Virginia was at this period in a constant state
+of alarm. Sumter had fallen, Harper's Ferry and Norfolk Navy-yard were
+in the hands of the rebels, while a mob, in the city of Baltimore, had
+attacked Massachusetts and Pennsylvania troops on their way to the
+defense of Washington.
+
+The Federal Government, on the other hand, was straining every nerve. It
+had collected about Washington, as speedily as possible, under General
+Scott, the veteran hero of Chippewa, Lundy's Lane, and the Mexican War,
+the volunteers who flocked to their country's defense in answer to the
+President's call. Volunteer companies were raising all over the country.
+In the extreme Northern States, in the defense of the Federal
+Government; in the extreme Southern States, in defense of the
+Confederate Government, and in some of the Middle and Western States,
+companies were raised for both sides. In fact, there were men in some of
+the more Northern slave States, who mustered with the rebels and were
+actually in the Confederate service before they knew it.
+
+In Virginia, as we have shown, both sides were represented. The
+Junction, on account of its railroad facilities, was an important point
+to guard, and about three hundred volunteers, under Colonel Holdfast,
+were here stationed. Of these raw recruits, there was but one company
+that was a complete organization, uniformed and armed at the expense of
+the Government. It was a company of mounted infantry, under command of
+Captain Wardle, armed with musket, uniformed in the Government blue, and
+furnished with horses in order to scout the country.
+
+The Government found it impossible to turn out arms and clothing fast
+enough to supply the volunteers at once, and it was late in the Summer
+of 1861 before they were all equipped. Many armed themselves, as was the
+case with two hundred of those at the Junction. Their arms consisted of
+rifles, shot-guns, and such other weapons as they were able to furnish
+themselves with.
+
+The Junction, as we have said, presented a curious scene. Five tall,
+white army tents had been erected for Captain Wardle's men, and there
+were a score or more enclosures, ambitious to be known as tents, made
+from Virginia wagon-covers, sail-cloth, oil-cloth, sheeting, and
+bed-ticking. They were of various sizes and shapes; some so small that
+four men would fill them; others large enough to hold twenty-five. Some
+of them were square, some round, like Indian wigwams, and others more
+like a circus canvas than anything we can compare them to.
+
+The tents were a motley assemblage, and so, and to a greater extent,
+were the men therein sheltered. There was first the company of Captain
+Wardle, properly uniformed and armed, and intensely military in
+appearance and behavior. They were always drilling when not scouting the
+country; the raw recruits standing by, overwhelmed with admiration at
+their easy proficiency in the manual of arms, or the intricate and
+mysterious movements of the company drill.
+
+It was early morning, and the smoke was ascending from half a hundred
+camp-fires. The scene was a constantly varying panorama of straw hats,
+linen coats, broadcloth coats, colored, flannel and white shirts. An
+orderly sergeant was trying to initiate a squad of raw recruits into
+some of the mysteries of drilling.
+
+"Remember the position of a soldier," said the orderly. "Heels close
+together, head up, the eyes striking the ground twenty paces away. Now,
+shoulder arms! Great Moses! Tom Koontz, can't you learn how to handle a
+gun? Keep the barrel vertical. Do you call that vertical?"
+
+"What d'ye mean by sayin' vartical?" asked Koontz.
+
+The orderly explained for the hundredth time, that vertical meant
+straight up and down. He had them then count off by twos, beginning at
+the right, then he instructed them that at the order of "right face,"
+number one was to take a half step obliquely to the right, and number
+two a step and a half to the left, bringing them in double file at right
+face. But when he gave the order, half of the men had forgotten their
+number. Confusion and dismay resulted, and the long suffering orderly
+sat down and swore until he was exhausted.
+
+Camp-life was new to all, and its novelty kept all in a perpetual
+excitement. There was but little discipline. Officers ordered men and
+men ordered each other. Every one had suggestions to make, and those who
+knew the least offered the most of them.
+
+"I tell you," said Sergeant Swords to Corporal Grimm, "that tent is not
+strong. The center pole is too weak, and the guy ropes are rotten. It'll
+go down."
+
+"I always knowed them boys didn't know how to fix a tent," said
+Corporal Grimm, plying his jaws vigorously on a huge piece of pig-tail
+tobacco.
+
+"Yes, sir; they've got a good deal to learn yet," said Sergeant Swords,
+with a sigh.
+
+"I do hate to see any one, who don't know anything about soldier life,
+pretend to know so much," said Corporal Grimm, who had had ten days'
+experience before he enlisted in his present company.
+
+"So do I," said Sergeant Swords, who had seen at least six days'
+service. "They'll find yet they had better take some one else's advice
+what's had experience. Why, when I was with Captain Strong's men, and we
+marched forty miles to Goose Creek Bridge to keep the rebels from
+burnin' it, we fixed a tent up like that, and the first night after we
+encamped, there came up a rain-storm, and blowed the thing a quarter of
+a mile into a brush heap."
+
+"Did I ever tell you what a hard time we had when I was under General
+Preston;" asked Corporal Grimm, by way of introduction to a story which
+should redound to his own greatness.
+
+"No, I believe not," answered Sergeant Swords, with more courtesy than
+truthfulness, for he had heard the story at least a dozen times.
+
+"Well, sir, them was tryin' times," said Corporal Grimm, shaking his
+head and masticating his quid with the air of a man who has suffered.
+"Why, sir, we marched eighty-five miles on foot, and all the rations we
+got was dried bacon, hams, and crackers. Oh, I just thought I would give
+anything for something substantial to eat, or a drink of coffee! The
+boys all run out of tobacco, too, an' we had an awful time." The thought
+of these hardships brought to his face an expression of extreme agony.
+
+"Why didn't you press something to eat? You passed through a country
+where there was plenty, didn't you?" asked Sergeant Swords.
+
+"Yes, but what could fifteen hundred men do at pressin'? Why, they
+couldn't a got enough to feed one brigade, let alone our whole army,"
+answered Corporal Grimm, who, as much service as he had seen, did not
+exactly know how many men it took to constitute a brigade.
+
+"We soldiers have hard times," said Sergeant Swords, brushing some of
+the mud off his blue jean coat. "Wonder how soon we'll draw our clothing
+and arms?"
+
+"Don't know, but hope soon. I'm tired of these farmer brown breeches. I
+want a blue coat with stripes on the sleeves."
+
+At this moment there came a blast from the bugle.
+
+"Roll call," said Sergeant Swords.
+
+A general gathering of each company about the Captain's tent followed.
+
+Abner Tompkins was First Lieutenant of the company of which Sergeant
+Swords and Corporal Grimm were members. He had been with the company now
+for over a week.
+
+The morning drill was over, and the volunteers were lounging about the
+tents, on the grass; Abner was leaning with his arm across the
+saddle-bow of his faithful horse, that he was about to turn out to
+graze. The mind of the young lieutenant was full of fancies and
+memories. His sudden departure from home, his interview with Irene, the
+parting with his brother, all were fresh in his thoughts, and his eyes
+naturally wandered back toward the road that led to his home. A familiar
+sight met his view. Coming down the hill, attended by a member of his
+own company, who had been on picket guard, was his father's carriage
+driven by the family coachman.
+
+Abner started. Why was he coming to the Junction? The carriage drove up
+to Abner's tent, and the guard, making what he meant for a military
+salute, said:
+
+"Lieutenant, here is a man as says he wants to see you."
+
+"All right, Barney, you can leave him here."
+
+The guard turned, and hurried back to his post as though the Nation's
+safety depended on his speed.
+
+The driver opened the carriage door, Mr. Tompkins alighted, and father
+and son met with a cordial hand-grasp. Abner led his father into the
+officers' tent which was at present deserted by its usual occupants.
+
+"Have you seen Oleah since?" asked Abner.
+
+"I have," was the reply.
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At his camp."
+
+"Why, father, how dare you go there, when your sentiments are known to
+be directly opposed to their cause? It was very dangerous."
+
+"Not very dangerous, since I have a son who is an officer in that army."
+
+"What office does Oleah hold?"
+
+"Second Lieutenant."
+
+"I suppose Seth Williams and Howard Jones are there?"
+
+"Yes, and Harry Smith."
+
+"Harry Smith?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Why, he is no Confederate at heart."
+
+"So are not a great many who are in their ranks."
+
+"I have been daily expecting Diggs here," said Abner.
+
+"Diggs, Henry Diggs?" asked Mr. Tompkins curiously.
+
+"Yes; he promised me he would come here and join our company," said
+Abner.
+
+"He is on the other side," replied Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"What?"
+
+"He is on the other side. He is a corporal in Oleah's company."
+
+"Why, the contemptible little scamp! He promised me faithful he would
+come here and enlist."
+
+"He is a man who cannot resist persuasion, and someone on the other side
+got the last persuade of him."
+
+"True, Diggs has no mind of his own," said Abner.
+
+"I have sometimes wished that my sons' minds were not quite so decidedly
+their own," said the planter with a sad smile and a doubtful shake of
+the head.
+
+"Did you try to persuade Oleah to leave the Southern army?"
+
+"No; he has conscientiously espoused the cause, and I would not have him
+do violence to his conscience. I talked to him mostly about you."
+
+"About me?"
+
+"Yes. I told him, as I now tell you, that if he had a principle which he
+thought right, he was right to maintain it; but while he fought in one
+army to remember always that he had a brother in the other, and, if by
+chance he should meet that brother in the struggle, to set brotherly
+love above party principle."
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"He promised that he would, and now I have come for your promise also."
+
+"I make it freely, father. It has always been my intention to meet Oleah
+as a brother whenever we meet."
+
+"This is now a sundered Nation," said Mr. Tompkins, "and its division
+has divided many families. It may be that brothers' swords shall drink
+brothers' blood, but, oh Abner, let it not be your fate to be a
+fratricide."
+
+Mr. Tompkins lingered until late in the day, when he entered his
+carriage, and was driven towards his home.
+
+That night the Colonel sent for Captain Wardle and told him that he had
+been informed of a body of rebels collecting on the headwaters of Wolf
+creek, not more than three or four miles from Snagtown, and instructed
+him to take sixty of his own company and fifty of the new recruits and
+proceed there the next day, starting early in the morning, to break up
+the rebel camp, and capture every person found there.
+
+There was another motley and undisciplined body of men encamped on Wolf
+creek. Wolf creek was a clear rapid stream, whose fountain-head was in
+the Twin Mountains. It came dashing down their craggy sides in many
+small rivulets, which, at their base, united to form this beautiful
+stream that flowed through a dark, dense forest in the valley, passing
+at one place within a half a mile of Snagtown.
+
+The camp, however, was three or four miles further up the stream, in
+what the military leaders considered a more advantageous location, on
+the main road that led from Snagtown by the Twin Mountains to a village
+beyond.
+
+The numbers of the Confederates were increasing daily. As soon as the
+volunteers went into camp, those in sympathy with the cause came in from
+all the country round, until between three or four thousand men had
+assembled, ill armed, undisciplined, confident, and full of enthusiasm.
+But one company had yet elected officers. Colonel Scrabble, an old
+Mexican soldier, was commander-in-chief of this force. Of the organized
+company, Oleah Tompkins was second lieutenant and Patrick Henry Diggs
+was corporal.
+
+Mr. Diggs had experienced considerable disappointment when the company
+failed to elect him captain; when a vote was taken for first lieutenant,
+he made a speech which secured him two votes; for second lieutenant,
+Oleah Tompkins was chosen. He was about to retire from the field and
+from the army, and had even applied for his discharge, when the captain
+appointed him corporal.
+
+He did not like to accept a position so insignificant, but, when he
+reflected that there were a number of corporals who had risen to be
+generals, and that the prospect for his promotion was good, he became
+pacified, and very reluctantly assumed the office.
+
+The spot where the Confederates were encamped had formerly been used for
+holding camp meetings; it was a grove, surrounded on every side by a
+dense forest and the high road, which led past the place, approached it
+in so circuitous a manner that it could not be seen fifty rods either
+way.
+
+The Confederates had chosen so secluded a spot that it was evident they
+wished their camp concealed. Wolf Creek bounded their camping ground on
+one side. The tents were fantastic affairs, and could vie even with
+those of the Junction in variety of shape and material, and showed quite
+as great a lack of skill in arrangement. The men were of almost every
+class, dress, and nation; but the dark, sharp-cut Southern feature
+predominated.
+
+They were firey, quick-tempered men, whose rashness nearly always
+excelled their judgment. Most of them were dressed in the garb of
+Virginia farmers, without any appearance or pretense to uniform. Their
+arms were shot-guns, rifles, and ancient muskets--a few of them
+excellent, but the majority inferior. As a class, they were men who
+enjoyed fox chases, wolf hunts, and horse races, and the present phase
+of their life they appeared to regard as a frolic.
+
+Camp fires were smoldering, and camp kettles hung suspended over them.
+As at the Junction, there was a great deal of talk about camp life, and
+suggestions by the score were indulged in. The sergeants walked about
+with much dignity, and our corporal had grown to feel the importance of
+his office; he had the drill manual constantly in his hands, and conned
+its pages with the uttermost diligence.
+
+Corporal Diggs was a general in embryo, and his name was yet to ring
+through the trump of fame, until, among all nations it should become a
+household word; he felt within his soul the uprising of greatness, as he
+looked through his glasses with the air of one born to command. And to
+think that he was an officer already--a corporal, men under him, to whom
+his word was law! Truly, the dream of his life was now beginning to be
+realized, his dearest desire was about to be fulfilled.
+
+Corporal Diggs had, from his earliest boyhood, thirsted for military
+glory; he had pored over the pictures of famous generals represented as
+leading the dashing cavalry on their charge, amid blind smoke and
+flashing swords, or guiding the infantry by a wave of the hand, and had
+longed for an opportunity to do likewise. True, he was a mere corporal,
+but it took only a few sweeping strides from corporal to general. The
+soldiers did not seem at present to regard him with awe and admiration,
+but they had not yet seen him under fire; they did not know how cooly he
+could undergo so trying an ordeal. He longed for battle as the war horse
+that already sniffs the fray. Once in battle, he would so signalize
+himself by his coolness and daring as to be mentioned in the colonel's
+report, and would undoubtedly be at once promoted.
+
+Corporal Diggs was full of fire and running over with enthusiasm. No man
+in all the camp seemed as busy as he; his tireless, short legs stumped
+about from place to place continually, his head thrown back, his eyes
+shining brilliantly through his glasses, a rusty, naked sword in his
+right hand. Occasionally the official duty of Corporal Diggs brought him
+to a standstill and then he would thrust the point of his sword in the
+ground, and lean upon it. As the sword was a long one when standing upon
+end, it came near reaching the chin of the born warrior who carried it.
+
+No one could appreciate the greatness of this great man. "Why did you
+leave before I showed you?" and other such frivolous phrases were
+constantly sounded in his ears. The gallant soldier sometimes became
+highly indignant, but he soothed himself with the reflection that all
+this would be changed after they had once witnessed his powers on the
+battle-field.
+
+It was the middle of the afternoon. The recruits had exhausted all their
+means of amusement, and were lounging about under the shade of the
+trees, or cleaning their rusty guns.
+
+"What shall we do to keep awake this evening?" said one fellow, lazily,
+reclining flat on his back under the broad branches of an old elm.
+
+"Dunno," said another, who was almost asleep.
+
+"Let's get up a scout," proposed a third.
+
+"I'll tell you how we can have some fun," said Seth Williams, his eyes
+twinkling.
+
+"How?" asked half a dozen at once.
+
+"Get Corporal Diggs to make a speech."
+
+"Good, good!" cried a number springing to their feet. "The very thing."
+
+It was finally decided to present to Corporal Diggs a written petition
+to address the members of his company on the question of the day, and
+enthuse them with his magnificent and stirring eloquence. The Sergeant
+himself circulated the petition, and had half a hundred names to it in
+less than fifteen minutes.
+
+Corporal Diggs had just returned from inspecting the guard when the
+petition was presented to him.
+
+"Well, yes--hem, hem!" began the soldier, orator, and general in embryo,
+"I have been thinking for some time that I ought to make the boys a
+speech. They--hem, hem!--should have something of the kind occasionally
+to keep--to keep their spirits up."
+
+"Well, come right along now," said the Sergeant pointing to where nearly
+a hundred had gathered around a large elm stump. "They're waiting for
+you."
+
+Corporal Diggs felt that his star had risen, and with a face full of
+becoming gravity, which the occasion and his official position demanded,
+he went toward the place indicated, dragging his long sword after him,
+much in the same way a small boy does the stick he calls his horse.
+
+The crowd received him with enthusiastic cheers, and Corporal Diggs
+mounted the stump.
+
+"Hem, _hem_, HEM!" he began, clearing his throat by way of commencement.
+"Ladies and gentlemen"--a slight titter in the audience--"I mean fellow
+citizens, or, perhaps, fellow soldiers or comrades would be more
+suitable terms for addressing those who are to share my toils and
+dangers." [Cheers.] "'I come not here to talk,' as one of old said, 'for
+you know too well the story of our thralldom.' What would the gentlemen
+have? Is life so dear or peace so sweet that they must be bought with
+slavery and chains? There are those who cry 'Peace, peace!' but there is
+no peace! The next gale that sweeps down from the North will bring to
+our ears the clash of resounding arms. [Cheers.] But, my comrades,
+I--hem, hem!--feel it my imperative duty to tell you that the foe is
+near at hand, and battle, glorious battle, where 'flame and smoke, and
+shout and groan, and sabre stroke' fill the air." [Vehement cheering,
+and Seth Williams trying to kick the bottom out of a camp kettle.]
+
+"Gentlemen of the jury--hem, hem!--No, fellow comrades, I mean, gird on
+the armor of determination, the helmet of courage, the shield of unity,
+the breast-plate of honesty, and with the sword of the right never fear
+to hew your way through the ranks of injustice." The orator paused for a
+moment for the cheering to subside that not a word of that sublime
+speech should be lost. All the soldiers in the camp, not on duty, had by
+this time gathered about the speaker.
+
+"Gentlemen of the jury, or fellow soldiers, I should say, hem!" he
+resumed, "it may be that some day I shall have the honor of leading you
+to battle. Then, fellow citizens, I hope, nay, I verily believe, that
+not one in this camp will be found skulking or hiding. [Cheering, and
+cries of, "No, no!"] May that day come that we may all prove to the
+world that we have a principle, and that we can defend it. [Cheers and
+cries of, "Let her come!"] Gentlemen, hem!--comrades, liberty is in the
+very air, and the citizens of the South breathe it, and now that the
+tyrants of the North have seen fit to loose the war dogs, not one of the
+swords of Columbia's true sons shall be returned untarnished to its
+sheath. [Long continued cheering.] While this voice has power to speak,
+and this tongue power of proclaiming the truth, the wrongs of the South
+shall be told. [Cheers and cries of "You bet."] And while this eye has
+the power of sight to aim the gun, and this arm strength to wield the
+sword, they shall be used wholly for the South." [Cheers and cries of
+"Hurrah for Diggs."] Some scamp propounded the long unanswered question,
+"Why didn't you wait till I had shown you?" but the orator is unmoved by
+this attempt at ridicule. "Gentlemen of the jury, or, rather, fellow
+comrades, when I think of all our wrongs, I long for the day to come,
+when we may meet the foe face to face. Yes, face to face, with bristling
+steel between, and canopies of smoke rolling above and mixing with the
+clouds of the heavens. Then shall they feel the arm of vengeance. Oh, ye
+boasters of the North," growing very loud and eloquent, while his right
+hand, with fingers all apart, cleft the air, "if you would know with
+whom you have to deal, come on! [Cheers and cheers of "Come on!"]
+Cowards, boasters, how I long to meet you where the canon roars--the
+glad thunders of war. [Cheering, and one young recruit trying to stand
+on his head.] I tell you that we can now say with the poet:
+
+
+     "'Hark, hark, the trump of war awakes
+     And vengeance from the vigil breaks,
+     The dreadful cry of carnage sounds,
+     It seems that hell's let loose her hounds.'
+
+
+"My brave comrades, remember Marion and Washington of old, and be like
+them, ready to lay down your life for your country. [Wild cheering.] I
+am ready to die in defense of the land that gave me--"
+
+Bang, bang, bang! went three muskets about two hundred yards up the
+creek.
+
+"Oh, Lordy!" yelled Corporal Diggs, and he performed a leap which a frog
+might have envied, alighting from the stump on his hands and knees on
+the ground.
+
+_Bang_, _bang_, CRASH! went half a hundred guns in the same direction,
+and the air seemed alive with whistling balls.
+
+"What is that?" cried Seth Williams.
+
+"To arms! We are attacked!" shouted Colonel Scrabble.
+
+"Run for your lives," cried the four pickets who now came in sight,
+setting the example.
+
+As the pickets had seen the enemy, and the Colonel had not, the men
+considered that the former knew more of their number. As for the gallant
+Corporal Diggs, after one ineffectual attempt to spring on a tall horse,
+he ran rapidly away to the woods as fast as his short legs would carry
+him, which Seth Williams afterward declared was faster than any horse
+could. It was in vain that the officers attempted to rally their men.
+The blue-coated soldiers of Captain Wardle, after the first fire, came
+galloping into view out of the woods, and, dismounting, fell into line
+of battle just in the edge of the cleared space where Corporal Diggs,
+not two minutes before, had been entertaining the entire camp with his
+eloquence. They poured another volley into the camp, which awoke the
+echoes of the forest and seemed to the terrified recruits to shake the
+Twin Mountains to their very center. They then charged down on the
+enemy.
+
+"Oh, Lordy, Lordy, have mercy on my soul!" gasped Corporal Diggs as,
+impelled by the roar of fire-arms in his rear, the whistling of bullets
+among the trees, and the thunder of plunging horses on every side, he
+went over the ground at a rate of speed which almost took away his
+breath. He ran as he never did before. He crushed through underbrush,
+tore through thorns, dodged under limbs, and leaped logs, in a manner
+that would have astonished any one who took into consideration the
+shortness of his legs. He was leading the entire force, as, in his
+speech a few minutes before, he had said he would. He was the first to
+start, and as yet was ahead of any footman.
+
+Many of the horses, about four hundred in number, which had been
+picketed about the camp, had broken loose during the firing and were
+running, plunging, and snorting through the thick woods, much to the
+terror of poor Diggs, who imagined a Union soldier on every horse, and
+supposed that there could not be less than fifty thousand of them.
+
+On, on, and on he ran, for about three miles, when, coming up to a steep
+bank of the creek, he found it impossible to check his headlong speed,
+and tumbled head first into it. Down into the mud and water he went,
+sticking his head so deep into the latter, that it was with some
+difficulty he extricated himself. When he washed the mud out of his
+eyes, he espied a drift a few feet away, and going to it managed to
+conceal himself amid the brush and logs.
+
+"Oh! Lordy! Lordy! have mercy on me! Oh, I know I shall be killed!"
+
+"Thump, thump! crash, crash! splash!" It was simply one of the
+frightened horses that had broken away from the camp, but it put
+Corporal Diggs in extreme terror as he supposed it to be a regiment of
+Union cavalry.
+
+"Oh, I ought never to have engaged in this unholy cause! I thought I was
+in error. I'll leave the Southern army sure, if ever I get out of this."
+
+For hours Corporal Diggs was kept in a state of perpetual terror by
+fleeing men and horses.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+MR. TOMPKINS' PERIL.
+
+
+Since the rebellion had assumed such proportions, and men, who had made
+war with pen and tongue had taken up the sword, Mr. Tompkins had been
+careful not to allude to the merits of either cause in his family. He
+had been made to feel the bitterness of the strife that, in dividing the
+Nation, had divided his home. He felt most keenly a parent's agony at
+having his two sons in hostile armies. That, at any hour or moment, they
+might meet in opposing ranks, was a horrible possibility, which, do what
+he would, he could not banish from his mind. He knew, too, that the
+companion of his life held views antagonistic to his own on the question
+of the war. So he was reticent on questions on which every one else was
+eagerly expressing opinions; but in his heart, he was firmly convinced
+of the justice of the Union cause. Though Mrs. Tompkins, like her
+husband, was silent as to her belief, she was as firmly convinced that
+the cause of the South was just. How could she, with all her native
+pride and prejudices, look on the subject in any other light? Her sunny
+home, the home of her childhood, the pride of her maturer years, was to
+be the field of contest. One side must win. On one side were arrayed the
+cold, calculating strangers of the North; on the other the warm-hearted,
+generous people of the South; but what endeared to her, more than any
+other circumstance, the Southern cause, was that it was based on
+principles which she believed just and right.
+
+Americans, more than any other Nation on earth, fight from principle.
+Other Nations blindly follow king or emperor, regardless of right or
+wrong, but the American fights from principle approved by his judgment
+and based upon his earnest convictions.
+
+Mr. Tompkins did not reflect on the dangers that might arise to himself
+from visiting two hostile armies. It was the day after his visit to the
+Junction that he chanced to be at Snagtown. He found the village in a
+state of excitement in consequence of "a large army of United States
+soldiers" having passed on their way to Wolf Creek. The villagers,
+unaccustomed to the sight of large bodies of men, put the number of
+Captain Wardle's command at several thousand, when in reality it did not
+exceed, including his own company and the others with him, one hundred
+and fifty.
+
+"Where were they going?" inquired Mr. Tompkins of the village grocer.
+
+"Dunno," was the reply.
+
+"Which way did they go?"
+
+"Towards the Twin Mountains."
+
+"There is no question as to where they was goin'," said the blacksmith.
+"They was takin' a bee line for the camp on Wolf Creek, and they're
+going to gobble up our boys along there; but although they outnumber
+them twenty to one, they'll find the boys game."
+
+"Where did these troops come from?" asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"From the Junction."
+
+Mr. Tompkins very well knew that the entire force at the Junction did
+not number over four hundred men.
+
+While the loungers and others were attempting to estimate the number of
+the troops, and discussing the probable result of their visit to Wolf
+Creek, a volley of musketry saluted their astonished ears.
+
+"There, they are at it!" said the blacksmith, smoking his pipe more
+vigorously.
+
+The volley was quickly followed by another, another, and another. After
+this, for a quarter of an hour, an occasional shot was heard, but no
+more regular firing. Various were the conjectures as to the result of
+the battle. A frightened farmer, who had been near the camp at the time
+of the attack, came galloping in, declaring that the ground was strewn
+with dead bodies; that the Confederates were killed to a man, and other
+reports almost as wild, increasing the excitement and alarm of the
+villagers.
+
+To say that Mr. Tompkins did not share the general anxiety would be to
+say he was not human. He knew that his youngest son might be lying in
+the woods either dead or dying. And Abner--had he accompanied the troops
+sent to the Junction? A thousand conflicting emotions stirred the heart
+of the planter, and a double care weighed on his mind. His first impulse
+was to go at once to the scene of the conflict; but a moment's
+reflection showed him that such a course would be not only dangerous,
+but foolish. He resolved to return home and await the development of
+facts in regard to the attack at Wolf Creek.
+
+Mr. Tompkins found his wife awaiting him on the piazza, and he knew by
+the troubled look on her face that she had learned of the attack. He
+said nothing about it, for a single glance from each explained all.
+
+"You look wearied, husband," said the wife as he sank into a chair at
+her side.
+
+"I am wearied," he replied, the troubled look deepening on his face.
+
+A moment's silence ensued. Mrs. Tompkins was the first to break it.
+
+"There has been trouble at the camp on Wolf Creek. I heard the firing."
+
+"Yes," said the husband, "a body of Union troops passed through Snagtown
+to-day to attack the camp there. There has been some sharp firing, but
+nothing definite has been heard of the affair."
+
+An hour or so later there came a clatter of hoofs down the road, and a
+dozen horsemen paused in front of the gate, opening into the avenue that
+led to the house. Mr. Tompkins sent to ascertain what they wanted. The
+leader inquired if Mr. Tompkins lived there, and being answered in the
+affirmative, he said, with an oath:
+
+"Well, tell him to come out here."
+
+The speaker was a thick-set, low-browed man, dressed in homespun gray,
+and armed with a sword and revolver. His companions, as coarse as
+himself, were armed with rifles; each wore the broad-brimmed black hat
+then common in the South.
+
+"Does yer want ter see my master?" asked the negro, his black face
+turning almost white, and his frame shaking with apprehension.
+
+For answer, the leader snatched a holster from his saddle so vehemently
+that the darkey needed no other inducement to return with all speed to
+the house.
+
+"What is the matter, Pompey?" asked Mr. Tompkins, as the boy stood
+breathless before him.
+
+"Oh, gracious, mars, don't know, 'cept they be's a band o' brigantines
+as wants to see you down at the gate."
+
+Mr. Tompkins smiled at Pompey's terror, and rose to go, but Mrs.
+Tompkins, who did not like the angry gesticulations of the strangers at
+the gate, accompanied her husband.
+
+"Is your name Tompkins" asked the ferocious-looking leader, as the
+planter and his wife paused just inside the gate.
+
+"It is, sir. Whom have I the honor of addressing?" returned Mr.
+Tompkins.
+
+"I am Sergeant Strong of the Independent Mounted Volunteers of Jeff.
+Davis, and I have come here to hang you, sir."
+
+Mrs. Tompkins gave a scream and clung to her husband.
+
+"The men are only joking, Camille; can't you see they are only joking?"
+said Mr. Tompkins, to soothe his terrified wife.
+
+"You'll find out that we're not joking," said the leader of the band,
+dismounting and fastening his horse to an ornamental tree on the lawn.
+Six of his men followed his example, leading their horses inside the
+gate, and hitching them to the fence or trees.
+
+"Men what do you mean?" said Mr. Tompkins, who took great pride in his
+shrubbery. "I do not allow horses to be tied near my trees."
+
+"We'll tie you to one of your trees soon and see how you like it, with a
+dance in the air."
+
+Mrs. Tompkins clung to her husband, half dead with terror, and Irene
+came hurrying from the house.
+
+"Go back, Camille; go back with Irene, and wait for me in the house,"
+said Mr. Tompkins. "This is nothing serious."
+
+"Ye'll see, sir, if it ain't somethin' serious," said Sergeant Strong,
+unstrapping a rope from behind his saddle, and uncoiling it. "The law
+says spies shall suffer death, and we're going to make an example of
+you, sir."
+
+"I am no spy," returned the planter.
+
+"Don't suppose I saw ye hangin' 'round our camp, and then shootin' off
+after sojers at the Junction to come down and lick us! And they just
+come to-day an' cleaned us most all out, and you shall hang for it." As
+he spoke he threw one end of the rope over the projecting branch of a
+large maple tree.
+
+"Those terrible men mean what they say," whispered Irene in Mrs.
+Tompkins' ear. She had comprehended all in a moment's time. "I will run
+for the overseer and the field hands."
+
+She turned to fly, but her motive was interpreted, and one of the men
+seized her around the waist, saying: "No, my purty gal, ye' don't do
+nothin' o' the kind jist yit awhile."
+
+In vain she struggled to free herself; she was powerless in the man's
+hands.
+
+Mrs. Tompkins, completely overcome, had fainted.
+
+"Now, boys, we are ready; bring him here," said Sergeant Strong.
+
+Three or four men laid hands on the planter, but he felled them
+instantly. They did not expect such resistance from a man of his age,
+and were not prepared for it. It was not until Mr. Tompkins was stunned
+by a blow from the butt of a rifle that he was secured and bound; he was
+then led under the tree and the noose thrown over his neck. Mrs.
+Tompkins lay still and white on the greensward, and Irene was struggling
+with her captor and screaming for help. No one noticed the horseman who
+came dashing furiously down the hill.
+
+"Up with him!" cried the Sergeant, and he seized the rope. At this
+moment the horseman thundered through the open gate, and just as Strong
+cried, "Now pull all!" the butt of a heavy pistol struck him on the
+head, and he fell like a beef under the hammer.
+
+Then, with his hand still uplifted, he rode toward Irene's captor, but
+the fellow had released her and fled; the horseman fired a shot after
+the rapidly retreating figure. Then, turning on the remainder of the
+band, he asked in a voice of thunder, "What, in heaven's name, does this
+mean?"
+
+Mr. Tompkins, for the first time, saw the horseman's face, and
+recognized his son, Oleah.
+
+"Why, it's the Leftenant," stammered one of the men, his teeth
+chattering with fear.
+
+"What does this mean, I say?" he again demanded.
+
+"Why, Lieutenant," said one man, who had the rope in his hand when Oleah
+came up, "Strong said he was a spy, and he had set the sojers on us
+to-day, and ordered us to punish him; be we didn't intend to hang him."
+
+Oleah's hot temper got the better of him, and he would have shot
+Sergeant Strong, who was still insensible, and the other ringleaders, on
+the spot, had not Irene and his father interfered. All danger being
+over, the servants came flocking to the scene, and Mrs. Tompkins was
+carried into the house. These men were a part of Oleah's own company. He
+ordered them to take the Sergeant, who was beginning to recover, and
+retire into the woods until he should join them. They obeyed and rode
+over the hill, quite crestfallen, conveying their wounded sergeant.
+
+Oleah briefly told his father of the attack made on their camp. He said
+they were taken by surprise, their forces scattered through the woods,
+but he believed not one drop of blood had been shed, although Diggs was
+missing, as well as several others. It was thought they had been taken
+prisoners. Then he again mounted his horse and dashed off, to gather up
+his scattered forces.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+FORAGING.
+
+
+Captain Wardle's campaign had been a complete success. He had made
+twenty prisoners, he had secured most of the arms and the camp equipage,
+with one hundred and six horses. Vain search was made for the bodies of
+the dead who had been slain in the fight, none could be found; and from
+the marks of the bullets on the timber one would judge that no one had
+been touched, as no trees had been struck lower than twenty feet.
+
+Camp-kettles, tents, rusty fire-locks, and weapons of nearly every
+description, were scattered about over the ground. The soldiers, the
+ununiformed especially, entertained themselves with the very
+exhilarating amusement of shattering against the trees these old
+fire-locks and such other weapons as could not be conveniently carried
+off. The plundering of the camp was an interesting
+occupation--interesting, even, to those who took no part in it. The
+ununiformed took the lead in this business. Perhaps they regarded it as
+their especial duty to be foremost now, since they had been in the rear
+during the attack.
+
+Corporal Grimm and Sergeant Swords were both present, very busy, and
+trying to look very soldier-like, though their brown homespun suits and
+broad-brimmed hats gave them anything but a military appearance.
+Corporal Grimm kept his jaws in lively motion on a huge piece of
+pig-tail, while he kept up a lively conversation with Sergeant Swords
+and others immediately about him. Somehow the scene reminded him of his
+ten days' experience as a soldier with "General Preston," and he related
+that experience at length. The scene also vividly impressed Sergeant
+Swords with his experience under Captain Floyd, and he impelled to tell
+his comrades of that.
+
+All were in excellent spirits. Captain Wardle congratulated the men on
+their coolness and gallant conduct, and the men congratulated Captain
+Wardle on his coolness and good generalship--all congratulating each
+other.
+
+About three hours were spent on the late camping ground of the
+Confederates, and then the entire force, with their twenty prisoners and
+the plunder they could carry, started on their return to the Junction.
+Night overtook them about five miles after they had passed Snagtown,
+and, selecting a suitable place, they encamped. There was but one thing
+to dampen their ardor, but one thing had been overlooked. Their arms
+were in excellent condition, and they were all well mounted; but even
+riotous soldiers must eat, and this little fact had been overlooked.
+When night came they were tired and hungry, but there were rations only
+for about one-half of their force, and many went supperless to bed, with
+a fine prospect of having nothing to eat before noon the next day.
+
+Captain Wardle felt most keenly his mistake in not bringing supplies,
+and spent most of the night in examining an old backless drill book to
+see how the thing could be remedied. Not finding anything in the
+tactics, he thrust it in his pocket and, throwing himself on his
+blanket, closed his eyes and in a few moments solved the problem. He
+then went to sleep, and it was not until his lieutenant had dragged him
+several feet from under his covering that he awoke next morning.
+
+The sun was up, and so were the men, the latter hungry and ill-natured.
+
+"Never mind! Tell the boys I've got this question fixed. They shall all
+have their breakfast. Tell the bugler to sound the roll-call."
+
+The blast of the bugle called the men together, and the roll was soon
+called.
+
+"Now," said Captain Wardle, who had been holding a conversation with
+Captain Gunn, "I think you are hungry--"
+
+"You bet we are, Capen," put in a red-faced private.
+
+"Shet up, sir, or I'll have you court-martialed and shot for contempt."
+
+All became silent; the men looked grave and appeared willing to learn
+from the old, time-honored soldier, Captain Wardle.
+
+"We haven't got enough in camp to feed more than about twenty-five men,
+so the rest o' ye will have to forage. Go in gangs of ten or fifteen and
+hunt your breakfast where yer can. The people all around here are
+secesh, and it will be a good thing to make them feed Union soldiers
+once in a while."
+
+This announcement was received with applause, and the troops commenced
+dividing into small squads, the uniformed mixing promiscuously with the
+ununiformed, and waiting only for instructions where to join the main
+force, which now, consisting of twenty-five men and the prisoners,
+mounted their horses and rode off.
+
+The eastern sun, like a blazing ball, was rising higher and higher in
+the sky as twelve men, among whom were Corporal Grimm and Sergeant
+Swords, galloped down a wooded road, keeping a sharp lookout for
+"bushwhackers." Six of these men wore the uniform and carried the arms
+of the United States Infantry, and six were dressed in citizens' attire
+and armed with rifles or double-barreled shot-guns. All rode at a
+furious pace, splashing through the mud and frightening the birds in the
+woods on either side.
+
+A boy was riding down the road in the opposite direction. He was mounted
+on a thin, slow-moving mare, of an indistinct color, which might have
+been taken for a bay, yellow or sorrel. The boy was barefooted, had on a
+straw hat, rode on a folded sheepskin instead of a saddle, held an empty
+bag before him, and certainly did not look very warlike.
+
+"Halt!" cried Sergeant Swords, drawing an old, rusty sword from its
+sheath and waving it in the air.
+
+"Halt!" cried Corporal Grimm, drawing a many-barreled pistol, commonly
+known as a pepper-box, which he flourished in a threatening manner.
+
+"Halt!" again cried both, "or we will fire."
+
+The boy, being overawed by numbers, felt constrained to pull up the thin
+mare.
+
+"Advance and give the countersign!" said Corporal Grimm.
+
+"Shet up, Grimm! I command this squad," said Sergeant Swords.
+
+Grimm chewed his pigtail in silence. In the meantime the boy seemed
+undecided whether to fly or to stand his ground, though his face
+betrayed a strong inclination in favor of the former proposition.
+
+"Who comes there?" said Sergeant Swords, bringing his rusty sword to a
+salute.
+
+"Who are ye talkin' to?" asked the boy, looking around to see if he
+could possibly be addressing any one else.
+
+"I am talkin' to you, sir," said the Sergeant, sharply.
+
+"What d'ye want?" asked the boy.
+
+"Who comes there, I said?" answered the Sergeant more sharply.
+
+"Me."
+
+"Advance, then."
+
+"Do what?"
+
+"Come here."
+
+The boy understood this. He had it delivered in just such a tone when he
+had been violating the domestic law. He advanced.
+
+"What d'ye want?" he asked again.
+
+"Where can we get our breakfast?"
+
+"Dunno," he replied, wonderingly.
+
+"Well, how fur is it to the next farm-house?"
+
+"Taint more'n a mile."
+
+"Who lives there?"
+
+"Old Ruben Smith; but he ain't there now."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"Dunno; says he's gone to the war, him and his two boys."
+
+"Which army?"
+
+"Dunno."
+
+"Are they Union or secesh?"
+
+"Lor bless ye, we're all secesh here."
+
+"You are? Well, we are Union. We'll take ye prisoner, then," said
+Corporal Grimm.
+
+"Oh, but I ain't secesh."
+
+"Well, then, you are a good boy," said the Sergeant. "Where are ye
+going?"
+
+"Gwine to Snagtown to git the mail and buy some sugar and coffee."
+
+"Well, you may go on," said the grim soldier, winking at the Corporal;
+the boy trotted on, looking curiously back at the men and their blue
+uniforms and big guns.
+
+The cavalcade now galloped on towards the house of Ruben Smith. The
+steep gable roof soon loomed up in the distance, and after dashing down
+the lane, around a pasture, through a small wood, they pulled up in
+front of the house.
+
+"Dismount!" commanded the Sergeant. The men were on the ground in an
+instant. "Now hitch where you can, and two of you stay on guard while
+the rest are eating."
+
+"Who are ye, and what do ye want," demanded a sharp-visaged, ill-natured
+looking woman, coming out on the porch as the soldiers entered the yard.
+
+"We are Union soldiers, and we want our breakfast," said Corporal Grimm,
+as the Sergeant was busy giving orders to the men.
+
+"You low, nigger-lovin', aberlition thieves, I wouldn't give ye a bite
+if ye were starvin'," said the woman.
+
+"Mother, don't talk that way to them," said a pretty, red cheeked girl
+of about fifteen, standing by her side.
+
+"We want breakfast for twelve," said Sergeant Swords, now coming
+forward.
+
+"Well, sir, ye won't git it here. Go to some nigger shanty and let them
+cook for ye."
+
+"Oh, no, my good woman, we want you to get our breakfast. You are a good
+lookin' woman, and I know you can get up a good meal."
+
+"If I was to cook for ye scamps, I'd pizen the last one o' ye," she
+fairly shrieked.
+
+"We shall have you eat with us, my good lady, and we can eat anything
+you do," said Sergeant Swords, good-humoredly. The young girl was all
+the while persuading her mother to be more calm.
+
+"Come now, I'll help you. I'll kindle the fire and carry the wood and
+draw the water," said the corporal.
+
+"Come in my house an' I'll pour bilin' hot water in yer face, and scald
+yer eyes out!"
+
+"Don't talk so, mother," urged the pretty daughter.
+
+At this moment the kitchen door opened, and a negro girl peeped out.
+
+"Say, kinky head, stir up the kitchen fire and get us some breakfast
+right soon," said Corporal Grimm. The black face withdrew, and the two
+non-commissioned officers entered the house to see that their bidding
+was performed.
+
+While the latter were discussing the possibility of bushwhackers being
+in the neighborhood, they were suddenly startled by a loud cackling of
+hens and screaming of chickens; at the same instant a flock came rushing
+around the house with half a dozen soldiers in close pursuit.
+
+"Good idea, boys! We will have chickens for breakfast," said Corporal
+Grimm.
+
+A dozen or more chickens were caught and killed and carried to the cook.
+The soldiers politely inquired of the lady of the house if they could be
+of any further assistance, and then most of them returned to the front
+yard, where their arms were stacked or strewn promiscuously about. Three
+of them, with Corporal Grimm, remained to pick the chickens and prepare
+them for the cook, while their very amiable hostess was sullenly
+grinding away at a large coffee mill. The negro girl and the
+rosy-cheeked daughter of the house were both very busy hurrying up the
+fire, putting on the kettles of water, making biscuits, and attending to
+the various culinary duties.
+
+"Where is your husband?" asked Corporal Grimm.
+
+"None of your business," was the quick reply.
+
+"Where are your sons?" asked Grimm.
+
+"In Jeff Davis' army, to shoot just such thieves as you are."
+
+"How long have they been in Jeff Davis' army?"
+
+"Ever since the war commenced."
+
+"How old is this hen I am picking?"
+
+"I hope she is old enough and tough enough to choke ye to death," said
+the women, giving the coffee mill a furious rap.
+
+"Your husband must be a very happy man," said Corporal Grimm.
+
+"If he was here, you wouldn't be very happy," she replied, testily.
+
+"No, I am happier with his amiable spouse."
+
+"There, I hope that'll pizen ye," she said, emptying the ground coffee
+into a coffee-pot, and pouring boiling water over it.
+
+"Make it strong enough to bear up an iron wedge," said Corporal Grimm;
+then, addressing his men:
+
+"Watch the old vixen, for she may pizen us if she gets a chance."
+
+The men needed no second bidding, and as the cooking progressed, they
+watched more keenly. They were all very hungry, yet none wanted to be
+poisoned.
+
+Breakfast being prepared, the reluctant hostess was compelled to eat
+with the soldiers, who, being thus convinced that none of the viands
+were poisoned, did full justice to the really excellent meal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+UNCLE DAN MEANS BUSINESS.
+
+
+Colonel Scrabble found his forces, when the attacking party had retired,
+somewhat scattered. With Lieutenant Whimple he had sought safety in a
+hollow tree, whence, after waiting four hours, he issued orders to the
+lieutenant to go forth and see if the Federal troops had retreated. The
+lieutenant took a circuitous route, walking on tiptoe, lest he should
+disturb the slumbers of the dead, until he reached the camp, which the
+Union soldiers had just left.
+
+Lieutenant Whimple then started to return, meeting on his way Captain
+Fogg. One by one they picked up men, behind logs, in tree-tops, and
+thick cluster of bushes, until they arrived twenty in number at the
+colonel's head-quarters, in the hollow tree. Here a council of war was
+held, and it was decided to send runners through the woods to notify
+their scattered forces that the enemy was gone; by night one hundred
+and fifty men had assembled around the hollow tree. They talked, in low
+determined tones, and all swore to avenge their lost comrades.
+
+Lieutenant Whimple and a score of resolute men were still scouring the
+woods in search of fugitives. They had approached very near the bank of
+the creek when the foremost man started back, saying:
+
+"My God! Just look at that!"
+
+"Where?" asked a dozen voices, peeping through the underbush, expecting
+to behold a masked battery at the least. The sun was low in the Western
+horizon, and our soldiers could not see the object at first.
+
+"There," said the first speaker, "sittin' right on the bank of the
+creek, is the devil come out to sun himself."
+
+They could now describe an object that might be a huge mud turtle, or
+might be almost any thing a lively fancy could suggest. A closer
+examination, however, showed it to be a little man somewhat larger than
+an apple dumpling, but so plastered from his head to his heels with mud
+that one could hardly tell whether he was black or white.
+
+The men drew nearer the strange object and finally rushed from their
+concealment. The poor fellow went down on his knees and threw up his
+hands imploringly. He was covered with the very blackest of Virginia
+mud, except great, white rings around the eyes and mouth, which gave a a
+most horrible expression to the features.
+
+"Oh! have mercy, mercy--hem, hem!--have mercy!" he gasped, clasping his
+hands and closing his eyes, "and I will quit this unholy cause."
+
+"Why, hallo, Corporal Diggs?" cried Lieutenant Whimple. At sound of that
+familiar voice, Mr. Diggs bounded to his feet, smeared as he was, threw
+his arms round the speaker's neck and wept for joy.
+
+"Oh! Whimple, Whimple, Whimple! I never expected to behold your face
+again. Oh! my dear, dear Whimple, you're not killed, are you? Tell me
+that you are not dead!"
+
+Whimple assured him that not only was he alive but in good health; after
+allowing the corporal time to recover, they picked up a few more men in
+the woods, also about forty horses, and returned.
+
+Lieutenant Tompkins, who had been out in search of scattered men, now
+returned with the sergeant's squad, the Sergeant's head bandaged.
+
+A hundred curious eyes were turned toward Whimple's squad as they came
+in; but it was not so much the numbers of the squad that attracted their
+attention, as the mud covered object that walked in their midst, in
+regard to which various conjectures were hazarded.
+
+About three hundred and seventy-five men were gathered around the
+Colonel's head-quarters, the hollow tree, before nightfall. Something
+must be done, all agreed. There were several men in the country, the
+Colonel said, who must either take the oath of allegiance to the
+Southern cause or suffer death for their disloyalty. Several names were
+mentioned, among them that of Dan Martin.
+
+"The hunter of Twin Mountains?" asked Oleah Tompkins.
+
+"Yes," said Lieutenant Whimple, who had suggested the name.
+
+"He is an old friend of mine," said Oleah.
+
+"Well, but, Lieutenant Tompkins, we can't afford to screen all your
+friends," said the Colonel.
+
+"Of course, no one can blame you for saving your father, but you can't
+expect all your Abolition friends will be left unmolested. Lieutenant
+Whimple, take twenty men and wait on old Dan Martin to-morrow."
+
+When morning came, nearly all the horses were needed for the work of
+collecting the balance of the scattered forces, foraging for provisions
+and for arms and horses.
+
+Corporal Diggs was second in command of Whimple's force, and, as he
+mounted his tall horse, he heard Seth Williams making audible comments
+on his appearance.
+
+The mounted force galloped away toward the foot of Twin Mountains, where
+Uncle Dan lived, a distance of about ten miles from the camp.
+
+It was near the middle of the forenoon when Uncle Dan, who was sitting
+in his door-yard, saw a cavalcade approaching. Crazy Joe was in the
+house drawing a map of Egypt, showing by lines how far the famine had
+extended.
+
+Uncle Dan's fierce mastiff and his hounds seemed to scent coming
+danger, the latter sending up mournful howls and the former uttering
+low, fierce howls of anger.
+
+"By hokey, I don't like the looks o' that," said the old man, as he
+observed the armed band approaching his lonely cabin. "Seems like they
+ain't honest. They're secesh, sure as gun's made o' iron, for there is
+Jake Whimple leading 'em, and right here, too. Guess it won't do any
+harm to keep old 'Broken Ribs' handy, in case they should be ugly."
+
+As the old man concluded he entered the house, and, taking his rifle
+from the rack over the door, leaned it against the wall while he took
+his seat in the door-way, his gun within easy reach. He had also placed
+a large navy revolver by his side.
+
+The horsemen had now caught sight of him, and, with exultant yells,
+galloped up the slight elevation from the creek toward the cabin.
+
+"Say, I reckin you'd better stop now and let a fellow know what ye
+want," cried Uncle Dan, snatching his rifle, and bringing it to a poise.
+
+The cavalcade halted, the men looking apprehensively at the unerring
+rifle and then at one another. Finally, by common consent, all eyes were
+turned on Lieutenant Whimple.
+
+"What do ye want, Jake Whimple?" demanded Uncle Dan in sharp, imperative
+tones.
+
+"We have come to administer the oath of allegiance to you," said
+Whimple, riding a little nearer, his comrades following close behind.
+
+"Then stop," cried the old hunter, "or I will make it hot for you, for I
+won't take no oath of allegiance from any one to the Southern
+Confederacy, 'specially such a sorry cuss as you."
+
+"Then I shall take you a prisoner and bring you to camp," said
+Lieutenant Whimple, trying to throw some sternness in his voice.
+
+"I'll drop some o' you fellars afore ye do that. Now jist advance one
+step further and see if I don't."
+
+Although they were fifty yards away, they could distinctly hear the
+ominous click of that rifle which never failed.
+
+"I've lost something down here," muttered Corporal Diggs, striving in
+vain to keep his teeth from chattering, "and I believe I'll go back and
+see if I can't find it."
+
+The Corporal wheeled his big horse around, and galloped down the hill
+for about one hundred yards, and, dismounting, set about examining very
+intently the ground behind a large oak tree.
+
+"Whoa, January," he said shivering, perhaps from cold, as the
+thermometer was only 65° above in the shade.
+
+"If you don't come along peaceably with us we shall have to use force,"
+said Lieutenant Whimple, in a tone of as much severity as he could
+command.
+
+The old man sprang to his feet and brought his gun to his face, "Now,
+turn about and git from here, or I'll drop some of ye where ye stand,"
+he shouted.
+
+Lieutenant Whimple spurred his horse, which reared, and wheeled and as
+he turned he fired his pistol at the hunter. The ball passed high over
+the old man's house, missing its aim by ten feet.
+
+"Shoot the old rascal!" he frantically cried, as he saw the fatal rifle
+aimed at himself. The discharge of the pistol had frightened the horses;
+they had broken ranks and were now rearing and plunging in every
+direction.
+
+"Crack!" went Uncle Dan's rifle, and a bullet went through the
+Lieutenant's hat, knocking it from his head.
+
+With a wild cry, the Lieutenant threw up his hands, and fell forward on
+his horse's neck, believing, as did the others, that he was killed. The
+horse tore down the hill, followed by the entire company.
+
+Uncle Dan's blood was up and snatching his revolver he fired three more
+shots at the retreating cavalcade. At the last shot he saw the dust
+arise from the back of one man's coat and heard a wild cry.
+
+"Take me by force," said Uncle Dan, "May be," and re-entering the house
+he reloaded his weapons, to be ready for another assault.
+
+Corporal Diggs was still searching for the treasure he had lost, when he
+heard the shots, and, looking from behind the tree, he saw the whole
+troop come tearing down the hill, retreating, as it seemed to him, in
+the midst of a storm of shot fired from a six pounder.
+
+The Corporal made a spring for his saddle (as he afterward declared), to
+rally his men, seeing that the Lieutenant was wounded, but he could only
+succeed in grasping the horn of his saddle. Thus clinging, he managed to
+slip one foot into the stirrup, when the flying horsemen thundered by.
+The Corporal's long-legged horse gave one snort and started at headlong
+speed.
+
+"Whoa, January! whoa, January! _whoa January!_" frantically cried the
+Corporal, clinging to the side of the tall horse, able neither to get on
+or off, while the excited beast seemed to be trying to outstrip the
+wind.
+
+"Whoa, January," cried the Corporal, trying to stop his flying steed,
+but unable to touch the bridle.
+
+"Whoa, January," his arms and legs extended, and his short coat-tail
+flying, made him look like a spider on a circular saw. "Whoa January! Oh
+Lordy, won't no one stop this horse? I'll--hem, hem--be killed against a
+tree! Help, help! Whoa January."
+
+January by this time had passed the foremost horse in the fleeing
+cavalcade, and his rider presented such a ludicrous appearance that the
+men, badly frightened as they were, roared with laughter.
+
+Lieutenant Whimple, after swaying for some time in the saddle, plunged
+off in a helpless heap on the side of the road. Three or four of the men
+paused to pick him up. The man who had been wounded in the back, fainted
+and fell from his horse, when another halt was made.
+
+But on thundered January, his rider still clinging to his side and
+crying vigorously for help. The creek was reached, and January, by one
+tremendous leap, cleared the ford. The stirrup broke, so did Corporal
+Diggs' hold. There was a great splash, and those nearest saw a pair of
+short legs disappear beneath the surface of the water.
+
+When the party came up, they beheld a mud-stained, water-soaked
+individual crawling up the opposite bank, sputtering and groaning, and
+swearing he would quit such an unholy cause.
+
+The Lieutenant soon recovered, though he acted for hours like a man
+dazed. The severely wounded private was carried to the nearest house,
+where he was left and medical aid sent for. Corporal Diggs rode behind
+one of the soldiers until they came upon the fractious January nibbling
+the fresh grass in a piece of bottom-land. He then mounted his own steed
+and took command of the company, which he led straight back to camp.
+
+No sooner had the Confederates left Uncle Dan's residence than the
+latter packed up his few valuables, and, telling Crazy Joe to go to Mr.
+Tompkins, turned loose his dogs and set out through the woods to the
+Junction. Uncle Dan surmised the rebels would return in force and burn
+his dwelling to the earth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+MRS. JUNIPER ENTERTAINS.
+
+
+Mrs. Julia Juniper was a wealthy widow, of easy conscience and uncertain
+age. Courted and flattered alike for her charms and her wealth, for Mrs.
+Julia Juniper had both, she was the acknowledged belle of the country,
+the leader of the elite and the ruler of fashion. When Mrs. Julia
+Juniper gave a party it was sure to be successfully attended, and it
+needed only to be known that she was to be at a ball to ensure the
+presence of the very best society in the neighborhood.
+
+The widow was a little above medium height, slender and graceful, with
+dark, sparkling eyes, clear white complexion, and black hair. She was
+vivacious as well as beautiful, and her sparkling wit was sufficient to
+enliven the dullest assemblage.
+
+Mrs. Julia Juniper owned and possessed (as the lawyers say) a large
+plantation, and the granite mansion she had furnished with lavish
+elegance.
+
+Two or three weeks have passed since the occurrences last recorded, and
+many startling events have taken place. Colonel Holdfast, with his force
+at the Junction, had joined McClellan, and fought gallantly at
+Phillippi, on the 3d of June. Abner Tompkins had been promoted to a
+captaincy, and Sergeant Swords and Corporal Grimm wore uniforms. Uncle
+Dan Martin accompanied the army as guide and scout, and was of
+invaluable service, as he knew every inch of the ground over which they
+had to pass. Colonel Scrabble had been compelled to fall back with his
+force about forty or fifty miles south, where a large force was
+assembling near Rich Mountain. The colonel's regiment had been
+recruited, refitted, and furnished with arms by the Confederate States,
+and the colonel himself now held a commission. Owing to the fact that
+Lieutenant Whimple had been disabled, perhaps for life, by his fall from
+his horse in the race from Uncle Dan's cabin, Oleah Tompkins had been
+promoted to first lieutenant.
+
+The regiment was now encamped in the neighborhood of Mrs. Julia Juniper,
+and Mrs. Juniper, a Southern lady with all a Southern lady's prejudices
+and passions, and intense likes and dislikes, loved her sunny South, and
+loved every one who was engaged defending it against the cold-blooded
+Northern invader, and, desirous of doing all she could to cheer the
+brave hearts of her country's defenders, resolved to give a reception in
+honor of the regiment. It was at the same time a first meeting and a
+farewell, for the colonel hourly expected orders to march further east
+and join the troops massing in the valley of the Shenandoah under
+Johnston and Beauregard.
+
+It was the evening of the 9th of July, 1861, and the grand mansion of
+Mrs. Julia Juniper was ablaze with light and splendor. The
+drawing-rooms, parlors, reception rooms, and the spacious dining hall
+were lighted early in the evening, festooned with flags, and lavishly
+adorned with flowers. The piazza, the lawn, the conservatory, and even
+the garden, on this evening, were filled with a gay, laughing throng.
+Mrs. Julia Juniper had ordered all form and ceremony to be laid aside,
+and desired that her guests should consider her house their home. She
+met officer and private, as they entered, clasping the hand of each with
+a fervent "God save our sunny South." More than one young soldier,
+looking on that lovely face, resolved to fight till death for a cause so
+dear to her. Corporal Diggs was present, and as Mrs. Julia Juniper's
+hand clasped his, and he heard her say: "God bless, you, my dear friend
+and make your arm strong to defend our beloved country!" He felt proud
+that he had not deserted, as he declared he should, after the retreat
+from Twin Mountain. Mrs. Juniper was everywhere, shedding on all the
+light of her countenance, enlivening all conversation with the rich,
+warm tones of her voice or her merry, musical laugh.
+
+At least two hundred officers, commissioned and non-commissioned, fell
+in love with the widow, and twice as many privates were willing to lie
+down and have their heads amputated for her sake. Many of our Southern
+soldier friends were present, among them Howard Jones and Seth Williams,
+both sergeants now. Corporal Diggs was in ecstacies of delight, but the
+presence of his old tormentor, Seth Williams, was a slight drawback at
+times to his happiness. Mrs. Juniper had introduced the corporal and
+Seth Williams to two charming young ladies, Miss Ada Temple and Miss
+Nannie Noddington, both of them bright, lively girls, fond of sport.
+Miss Temple made herself particularly agreeable to the little
+apple-dumpling of a corporal.
+
+Mr. Corporal Diggs had on a neat little suit of gray, without shoulder
+straps, but with yellow braid enough on his coat sleeves to indicate his
+office and rank. His thick hair was parted exactly in the middle, his
+burnside whiskers were neatly trimmed, and his glasses were on his nose.
+He tried to appear witty, making him appear silly enough to enlist the
+sympathy of any one except Seth Williams.
+
+Seth was bent on fun and mischief, and in Miss Nannie Noddington he
+found an able accomplice and ally.
+
+Corporal Diggs was making an extraordinary endeavor to make himself
+agreeable to Miss Temple, who laughed at his witticisms in a coquettish
+way that was wholly irresistible, and Corporal Diggs became brilliant,
+drawing continually on his immense fund of knowledge, talking science,
+physics, and metaphysics, history, literature, and art, at last touching
+on the theme, sacred to love and lovers, poetry.
+
+"Hem, hem, hem! Miss Temple, I presume--hem--you are very fond of
+poetry," he said, leaning back in his chair, his soleful eyes gleaming
+through his glasses.
+
+"I am passionately fond of poetry, corporal," said the blonde beauty,
+with a winning smile.
+
+"I--hem, hem!--before I entered the army, used to be passionately fond
+of poetry, but the multifarious duties of an officer during these
+exciting times will allow no thought of polite accomplishments."
+
+"He is inflating now," whispered Seth Williams to Miss Noddington. "He
+will explode soon in a burst of poetical eloquence."
+
+Mr. Diggs, as we have seen, had a peculiar stoppage in his speech,
+occasioned more by habit than by any defect in the organs of
+articulation.
+
+"Yes, Miss Temple, I--hem, hem, hem!--admire, or rather I adore poetry.
+The deep sublimity of thought--hem, hem, hem!--given forth in all of
+poetical expression and--hem, hem!--as the poet says 'the eye in fine
+frenzy rolling.'"
+
+"That was in his 'Ode to an Expiring Calf,' was it not?" said Seth
+Williams, who was one of the group.
+
+No one could repress a smile, and Miss Noddington was attacked by a
+convulsive cough.
+
+"You always have a way of degrading the sublime to the ridiculous, Mr.
+Williams," said the little corporal, loftily.
+
+"Who of the English poets do you like best, Corporal Diggs?" asked Miss
+Temple, pretending not to notice Williams' sally and the consequent
+discomfiture of her companion.
+
+"I--hem, hem!" said the little fellow, leaning forward and locking his
+hands, with all the dignity that he assumed when about to give one of
+his opinions. "I--hem--am rather partial to Scott. I don't know why,
+unless his wild poems rather suit my warlike nature. I like to read of
+Marmion, the Lady of the Lake, and the Vision of Don--Don--hem--Don--"
+
+"Quixote," put in Seth Williams.
+
+The bright black eyes of Miss Noddington twinkled, but Miss Temple
+feigned sympathy with the corporal, whose memory was evidently bad.
+
+"But--hem, hem!--Miss Temple," he went on, heroic to the last, "that is
+a sublime as well as a truthful thought of Scott, who says,--hem,
+hem!--how does it begin? Oh yes:
+
+
+     "O, woman, in our hours of ease
+     Uncertain, coy, and hard to--"
+
+
+"Squeeze," put in Seth Williams, who was really boiling over with
+mischief.
+
+Miss Temple looked shocked, but Miss Noddington only buried her blushing
+face in her handkerchief.
+
+The discomforted Corporal Diggs cast a furious glance at Seth Williams,
+who sat with a face as solemn as any judge on the bench.
+
+"Mr. Williams, such talk is very unbecoming any gentleman," said he,
+rising and looking as furious, to use Seth Williams own words, "as an
+enraged potato bug."
+
+"I beg the pardon of all the company," said Seth, whose face was gravity
+itself. "I wanted to find some word that would rhyme with ease, and
+spoke the first that came to my mind."
+
+"The word, sir, is 'please,'" said Corporal Diggs, re-seating himself
+after entreaty from the ladies, who assured him that it was only a
+_lapsus linguæ_ on the part of Sergeant Williams.
+
+"Now, corporal, do go on and repeat the entire verse, for I do so admire
+Sir Walter Scott," pleaded Miss Temple, whose roguish blue eyes were
+sparkling almost as brightly as those of her friend, Nannie Noddington.
+
+"Yes, Corporal Diggs," said the beautiful Nannie, "do go on and give us
+the entire stanza."
+
+"Yes, the entire canto," put in Seth.
+
+There was no refusing the appeal from those blue eyes of Miss Temple or
+the sparkling black eyes of Miss Noddington, so, after a few "hems" and
+a moment spent in bringing the poem to his memory, the corporal began
+again:
+
+
+     "O, woman, in our hours of ease
+     Uncertain, coy, and hard to please;
+     Yet seem too oft, familiar with her face,
+     We first endure, then pity, then embrace."
+
+
+This time both ladies laughed outright, and even Seth Williams could
+not restrain a smile, while the corporal wondered what in the world
+could be the matter with them.
+
+"Your version is no better than mine," said Seth Williams.
+
+"Oh! Corporal Diggs, you are too cute, you made that mistake on
+purpose," laughed Miss Temple.
+
+The corporal, hearing his witty blunder praised on all sides, concluded
+to pretend it was an intentional joke, originating from his own fertile
+brain; Miss Temple smiled on him, Miss Noddington declared him
+charmingly cute, and the corporal felt himself quite a hero.
+
+After further favoring the company with choice selections, he launched
+out on history, which he brought down to the present time by allusions
+to his adventures since he had been in the army.
+
+"Have you ever been in any engagement, corporal?" asked sweet Miss
+Temple.
+
+"Yes, Miss Temple, I have been where bullets flew thicker--hem,
+hem!--than hail stones; replied Corporal Diggs.
+
+"Where was it?" asked the blonde.
+
+"Once at Wolf Creek."
+
+"Were you not frightened?"
+
+"I was as cool as I ever was in my life," replied Corporal Diggs,
+leaning back in his chair, and looking very brave.
+
+"That was because you were so deep down in mud and water under the
+drift-wood," put in Seth Williams.
+
+Corporal Diggs turned a look of wrath on his companion. "Who said I was
+in the mud and water?" he demanded, fiercely. "Who saw me in the mud and
+water?"
+
+"No one, I don't suppose; but Lieutenant Whimple found you on the bank,
+looking very much as though you had just left the hands of Crazy Joe."
+
+Before Corporal Diggs could reply, Miss Temple, rising, begged him to
+walk with her on the piazza.
+
+As the two went away, Seth laughed for the first time during the
+evening, and told his companion the story of Crazy Joe's mud man.
+
+The lawn had been converted into a dining-room, and long rows of tables
+were spread there; Chinese lanterns hung from all the trees, and an army
+of black waiters was in attendance.
+
+The dining hall had been cleared and fitted for dancing, and already the
+soft sound of music was heard there, and gay dancers were gliding
+gracefully through the waltz.
+
+It was nearly two o'clock in the morning, when Oleah Tompkins tired of
+dancing walked into the conservatory, and from there into the garden.
+His thoughts naturally flew back to his home, to his parents, and to her
+he had learned to love with all the warmth and ardor of his Southern
+heart. A hand touched him on the shoulder. He turned and beheld standing
+behind him a mulatto, one who had played the leading violin in the
+orchestra. He was between forty and fifty years of age, a man of grave
+and somber countenance.
+
+"Well, sir, what will you have?" demanded the lieutenant, turning
+sharply about.
+
+"Is your name Tompkins?" asked the man.
+
+"Yes. What is your business with me?"
+
+"I was anxious to be sure," said the mulatto, "for I assure you,
+Lieutenant Tompkins, that I may sometime be able to give you some
+valuable information."
+
+"If you have any information to give, why not give it now?" demanded the
+young officer.
+
+"I have reasons that I can not give. To tell the reasons would be to
+give the information."
+
+Oleah looked fixedly into the mulatto's face. There was something
+unusual about him, something that impressed the young lieutenant
+strangely, yet, what it was, he could not tell.
+
+"What is your name?" he asked.
+
+"They call me Yellow Steve."
+
+"How long have you been in this State?" asked Oleah, after a pause.
+
+"About two years," was the answer.
+
+"Have I ever known you before?"
+
+"I don't think you ever saw me before."
+
+"Well, have you ever seen me before?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then what can you have to tell me that would interest me?"
+
+"I can tell you something of the early history of her you call your
+sister, something that no one on earth but myself knows. You shall know
+it in the future."
+
+The mulatto turned, pushed open the door of a Summer house near by, and
+disappeared.
+
+"Stay!" cried Oleah. "By heavens, if you know anything of her, I will
+not wait, I will know it now."
+
+He sprang through the door after the mulatto, but the Summer house was
+vacant. The strange musician had disappeared as suddenly as if he had
+sank into the earth. After searching vainly through the grounds Oleah
+returned to the house. The other musicians (all colored) knew the
+"yaller man who played first fiddle," but, as "he lived no where
+particularly, but about in spots," no one could tell where he would most
+likely be found.
+
+It was late that night before Lieutenant Tompkins sought his tent, and
+sleep came not to his eyes until nearly daylight. When he did sleep, the
+strange mulatto was constantly before his eyes--his yellow skin, his
+yellow teeth, and yellow eyes all gleaming.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+MR. DIGGS AGAIN IN TROUBLE.
+
+
+McClellan, in the meanwhile, had been sweeping the Western portion of
+Virginia. On the 11th of July, he gained a victory over the unorganized
+or at most half organized Confederates under Colonel Pegram at Rich
+Mountain, which was at no great distance from the Widow Juniper's.
+
+Colonel Scrabble then endeavored to reinforce General Garnett at Laurel
+Hill, but the latter was on his retreat toward the Shenandoah to join
+Johnston's army, when Scrabble and eight hundred men, three hundred of
+which were cavalry, came up with him.
+
+The fight at Rich Mountain had taken place just two days after Mrs.
+Juniper's reception, and it was partly this reception that had delayed
+Scrabble, for, by forced marches, he might have reached Pegram before
+his defeat. While he and his officers were basking in the smiles of the
+ladies of West Virginia, General McClellan, under the excellent guidance
+of Uncle Dan, had slipped in between the two forces and defeated the
+larger. Having been thus reinforced and, seeing escape almost
+impossible, General Garnett resolved to make one more stand against the
+enemy. At Carrick's Ford, on Cheat river, is a small winding stream,
+flowing through the central part northward of what is now West Virginia.
+It has its foundation-head near Rich Mountain, and the towns of
+Philippi, Grafton, and Beverly are on its banks.
+
+The main army, under General Garnett, took position near the road on a
+bluff eighty feet high, where he planted his cannon. Colonel Scrabble,
+with his eight hundred troops, was on a bluff covered with thick almost
+impenetrable forest trees.
+
+Oleah Tompkins and many others of the company had on more than one
+occasion shown superior courage, and the raw troops, with very few
+exceptions, promised excellent behavior on this occasion.
+
+Corporal Diggs was there; he had fastened January to a small tree, near
+a stump that would enable him to mount. Mr. Diggs was very cool on this
+occasion. He sat behind a tree, his gun across his lap, and although he
+felt some uneasiness, yet, when he looked about him and saw the many
+strong, armed men standing in front of him in double ranks, he felt
+almost brave. Occasionally a shudder would pass through his frame,
+especially when he heard that the Yankees were in sight.
+
+The roar of cannon shook the air, and a ball, whizzing through the
+tree-tops, just over the heads of Colonel Scrabble's raw troops,
+scattering leaves and clipping branches in its course, shivered a tree
+to splinters in the rear.
+
+"Steady, boys!" shouted the colonel. "Never mind that. Don't fire till
+you get the word." But a few of the more nervous did fire.
+
+"Steady!" cried the captains as they heard the shots.
+
+"Steady!" repeated the file-closers in trembling tones.
+
+"Stop that firing, you fools! Wait for the word," cried the enraged
+colonel, galloping furiously up and down the line.
+
+"Steady!" said Corporal Diggs, in a hoarse whisper, lying flat on the
+ground behind his tree, the branches of which still trembled from the
+passage of the ball.
+
+Soon a long line of blue coats could be seen on the opposite side of the
+small stream; fire belched from their guns, and a shower of leaden hail
+fell among the regiment of Colonel Scrabble.
+
+"Steady!" cried the colonel. "Wait for the word."
+
+"Steady!" cried the captains and lieutenants.
+
+"Oh! Lordy, I'll be killed, I know I shall," wailed poor Diggs,
+crouching close to the ground.
+
+"Aim! Fire!" was the command given on the Confederate side, and their
+guns returned the leaden storm with effect. The whole line was engaged,
+and peal followed peal, shot followed shot, thunder-clap followed
+thunder-clap, while the white smoke rose in canopying folds above the
+woods. The dead and wounded lay on both sides of the stream. The trees
+were shattered by the flying balls. The engagement became general.
+
+After the first two or three rounds, Corporal Diggs, finding himself as
+yet unhurt, ventured to peep around the tree. He observed a number of
+blue coats on the opposite side of the stream and saw a number lying
+motionless on the ground. Snatching his carbine, he fired, he knew not
+at whom, because he closed his eyes as his finger pressed the trigger.
+Then, as if convinced that his shot would turn the tide of battle, he
+sprang once more behind his tree--to reload.
+
+Among the new officers most noted for their daring was Oleah Tompkins,
+who was everywhere the shots fell thickest, encouraging his men by word
+and act. Through the flash of guns and clouds of smoke he occasionally
+caught a glimpse of a familiar form in the enemy's lines. It was a Union
+captain, upon whose coolness and courage seemed to rest the fortunes of
+his entire regiment. There was no mistaking that form, he had known it
+since his earliest recollection. That brave young officer, in an enemy's
+ranks, had been his playmate in childhood, his companion in boyhood,
+his schoolmate, his college chum, his constant associate in manhood, and
+was still his brother. A mist swam before the young Confederate's eyes,
+as he thought a single chance shot might send that brother into
+eternity. Little thought had Oleah for himself. He saw his comrades fall
+about him and heard groan and cry ascend from the blood stained grass,
+the balls of the enemy whistled about, shattering the tender bark of the
+trees, but the lieutenant had no thought save of his playmate, companion
+and brother on the other side of the stream.
+
+"Lieutenant Tompkins, you expose yourself needlessly," said Harry Smith,
+touching his officer on the sleeve. "The other officers do not stand
+constantly in front."
+
+Oleah lowered the field-glass, through which he had been looking at the
+young captain in blue across the river, and with a sad smile turned
+toward the speaker.
+
+"Harry," he said, "do you know who we are fighting, who those men are
+across the river?"
+
+"No," said Harry, "only that they are enemies."
+
+"Once they were neighbors, friends and brothers. That is the company
+commanded by my brother Abner and raised in and about our village. Every
+shot we fire, whose aim is true, drinks the blood of one who was once a
+friend."
+
+"Once friends," said Harry, "but enemies now."
+
+Harry, who at first could not brook to take up arms against the Stars
+and Stripes, had joined the Home Guards, under the belief that they were
+only to protect their homes. He found himself in the Confederate army as
+many others did, and determined to make the best of it.
+
+Blood is thicker than water, and--in spite of the fierce hatred Oleah
+Tompkins had for the Northern armies--it was with a sinking heart that
+he entered into combat with Colonel Holdfast's regiment.
+
+While McClellan's main body was pressing Garnett's army closely in
+front, and threatening each moment to cross the ford, a portion of two
+Indiana regiments crossed about three miles above the ford and came
+crashing down on the Confederate's right wing. In a few minutes the
+right flank of the rebels was turned and the Union soldiers, with wild
+cheers, dashed into the stream and pushed across to the opposite side.
+The whole rebel line began to waver. General Garnett, seeing the danger
+his army was in, rode gallantly forward, and strove to rally his
+panic-stricken men. It was in vain, and, in the midst of his useless
+efforts to turn the tide of battle, he was struck by a ball and fell
+dead to the earth. His fall completed the panic which had already begun.
+
+Corporal Diggs, who had displayed a vast amount of coolness, as he lay
+crouched behind his tree shivering in every limb, was the first in his
+regiment to determine how the battle would go. No sooner had the right
+flank been struck by the Hoosier troops than, with far-seeing military
+judgment, he declared the day lost and, bounding to his feet, sprang
+toward his horse which was snorting and plunging in its endeavors to get
+away.
+
+"Whoa, January, you old fool!" cried the corporal.
+
+Whiz zip, went a musket ball past his ear, clipping a twig which fell at
+his feet, and causing January to prance and rear.
+
+"Oh Lordy, I'll be killed, I know I shall! Whoa, January!" and his
+trembling fingers struggled to unloose the knot of his halter.
+
+Harry Smith, who had fought with desperate bravery, was, with Lieutenant
+Tompkins, among the last to leave the field. As he was in the act of
+mounting his horse, he cast a glance down toward the ford, where the
+mass of Union troops were forming and beheld the Stars and Stripes
+streaming above the long line of blue coats. Harry turned pale for the
+first time during the fight. A shock, as of a galvanic battery, seemed
+to strike his frame.
+
+"Oh! Heavens!" he thought, "why am I in these ranks, a rebel and a
+traitor, fighting against the best government this world has ever
+known?"
+
+"Mount quickly, Harry, or we shall be taken," cried Oleah, who was
+already in the saddle.
+
+Harry sprang into the saddle, and they galloped away after their now
+flying comrades, the enemy's cavalry pursuing them closely and firing an
+occasional shot into the retreating ranks, as they rushed and crowded
+down the road through the lanes and over the hills in the direction of
+Beverly.
+
+Corporal Diggs finally succeeded in untying the halter-knot, that held
+January to his post, and after some trouble got into the saddle. The
+bullets were whistling around his ears, and January was plunging through
+the underbrush and out into the road, where he struck off in a western
+direction at a rapid rate. The corporal did not try to restrain him, and
+they were soon over the hill, three miles away from the battle ground.
+
+"Oh Lordy, I know they are all killed!" murmured the little corporal,
+looking back as he galloped down the road. For an hour he rode on, in
+what direction he knew not, but away from both armies. His mind was full
+of wild fancies. He saw six men coming like the wind down a cross lane,
+and, although they were a mile or two in his rear, he knew by their dark
+clothes and bright flashing guns that they were Union cavalry.
+
+"Oh Lordy! I shall be killed, I know," he thought, as he used whip and
+spur, crying: "Get up, January! Oh! for the Lord's sake, run!"
+
+Corporal Diggs glanced back again, and saw the six dark horsemen in the
+lane, directly behind him, and coming on as fast as their horses could
+carry them. He thundered down the lane, which was bordered on either
+side by a hedge fence about five feet high. The ground for about one
+mile was level, and then came some hills, steep and abrupt as only
+Virginia hills are.
+
+The corporal unbuckled his saber and threw it away, threw away his
+pistols, and everything that might in the least impede his flight.
+January flew over the mile stretch and dashed down the hills at a
+break-neck speed. Corporal Diggs, who was not an experienced rider,
+clung to his horse's mane, and several times came very near being
+unseated. The soldiers in his rear came nearer, and their shouts could
+be heard by the poor flying wretch, but when he descended the hill they
+were out of sight.
+
+January, coming to a ditch at the side of the road, made a fearful leap,
+and Corporal Diggs, losing his seat, was plunged head-foremost into a
+hedge, which closed completely over him.
+
+"Oh, Lordy, I know I shall be killed!" he groaned, as he lay, bruised
+and bleeding, in the midst of the hedge. January never for a moment
+stopped his flight, and soon the six pursuers swept by. Immediately
+after this the corporal became unconscious.
+
+Daylight had passed into night when Corporal Diggs recovered
+consciousness; lying in his thorny bed bleeding, sore at every joint,
+and with face and hands frightfully lacerated, it was needless to say
+that this brave soldier was very uncomfortable. His first thought, on
+regaining his senses, was to extricate himself from the thorns, and this
+was by no means an easy task. Thorns above, thorns below, thorns on all
+sides, made moving without additional laceration an impossibility. With
+great care and many a smothered imprecation, groan and prayer, he at
+last emerged on the meadow side of the hedge.
+
+The sky was clear and dark, and studded with innumerable stars. Each
+silent watcher seemed twinkling with merriment as the tattered
+Confederate stood by the hedge, pondering which way to go. On the
+opposite side lay the broad, dark lane, leading he knew not where, and
+before him stretched the wide meadow. He chose the latter, and was in
+the act of starting on his journey, when the tramp of hoofs coming down
+the lane struck his ear, and he again crouched down under the shelter.
+
+It proved to be a small body of Union cavalry, and their arms clanked
+ominously as they rode by. They passed on over the hill, and the
+corporal rose once more and scanned the broad, dark green meadow, whose
+waving grass was soaked with a heavy dew. But wet grass was nothing
+compared with Union cavalry just then, and he pushed boldly across the
+meadow, regardless of its dampness. The meadow was much wider than he
+had supposed; he traveled for a mile or more through the tall, damp
+grass before he came to a stone fence, on the opposite side of which he
+saw a thick wood.
+
+After carefully reconnoitering the premises, Corporal Diggs scaled the
+stone fence and dropped down on the other side. He paused a few minutes
+to remove the thorns from his arms and legs, wrung some of the water out
+of his clothes, and then selecting one of many narrow paths, he walked
+down into the forest. He traveled for several hours, avoiding public
+roads, and at last came out in the rear of what seemed to be an
+extensive plantation. He found some stacks of new made hay, which
+offered quite a comfortable sleeping place, and in a few minutes, after
+he had crawled into one, he was asleep, and slept soundly until the sun
+was up. Then, stiff and sore and bruised, he crawled from his bed and
+looked about him. The place has a familiar look. There was a magnificent
+stone mansion to his left, and those broad fields and numerous
+plantation houses he had seen before. _It was the plantation of Mrs.
+Julia Juniper._
+
+The corporal knew, that in the widow, he would find a warm and
+sympathizing friend, and he consequently made his way toward the house.
+It was certainly with no martial bearing that he presented himself at
+the door of the widow's mansion. He asked to see Mrs. Juniper, but was
+told by her maid, that it was too early for her mistress to be out of
+bed. She brought him to the kitchen fire to dry his stained and
+dew-soaked clothes.
+
+The corporal dried his clothes, washed and bound up his wounds with such
+linen as the cook would furnish, and tried to make himself presentable.
+Seeing Mrs. Juniper's maid he desired her to inform her mistress that
+Corporal Diggs wished to see her as early as possible.
+
+Mrs. Juniper, supposing that some important message had been sent by
+Colonel Scrabble, allowed herself to be hastily dressed, and sent to
+tell the corporal she would receive him. Diggs lost no time in obeying
+the summons. At sight of the lacerated and bandaged being who entered,
+Mrs. Juniper, who had risen to receive her guest, utter a scream, and
+sank back into her chair.
+
+"Corporal Diggs," she cried, "what has happened?"
+
+"We have met the foe," said Diggs, with a tragic tone and manner. "Hem,
+hem, hem!--yes, Mrs. Juniper, we have met the foe--" He paused, overcome
+with emotion.
+
+"With what result?"
+
+"I alone am left to tell the tale."
+
+"Oh, heavens! Corporal Diggs, it can not, it can not be true!"
+
+"Alas! lady, it is but too true. Our brave army is now no more. I,
+wounded and hunted like a hare, have come to you for a few hours of
+peace and shelter."
+
+Diggs endeavored to look the character of a wounded knight from Flodden
+Field.
+
+"Pray, Corporal Diggs, tell me all; our cause is not, must not be lost.
+The South--but, pardon me, you are wounded, weak, and faint--"
+
+Diggs had put one of his arms in a sling and had bound a bandage on his
+head.
+
+"Sarah, bring wine here at once. Ah! you must have been very closely
+engaged with the enemy from the number of your wounds."
+
+The wine was brought, and Diggs, now refreshed, gave eager Mrs. Juniper
+a glowing account of the battle at Carrick's Ford. As the account given
+by history does not, in all respects, agree with that of Corporal Diggs,
+we will give his version of the conflict.
+
+"Madam," said the little corporal, "yesterday occurred one of the most
+bloody battles that the world has ever known. Our regiment joined
+General Garnett, and we met the enemy at Carrick's Ford, some seven
+hundred thousand strong, headed by old Abe Lincoln himself. They had a
+hundred to our one, but we fought, oh, my dear Mrs. Juniper, we fought
+like lions, like whirlwinds, like raging hurricanes--hem, hem"--broke
+off Corporal Diggs, trying to think of some stronger term, "yes, my dear
+Mrs. Juniper, like cyclones--hem, hem! We piled the ground around us
+several feet deep with their dead, and Cheat river overflowed its banks
+with the blood, but--hem, hem! it was no use. They came on, and their
+cannon shot, musket shot, and grape shot mowed men down. I--hem, hem--I
+was last to fall, I fought the whole of them for some time alone, but,
+surrounded, wounded, faint and bleeding, I fell from my horse and was
+left on the field for dead. When I came to my senses I--hem,
+hem!--crawled away and came here, believing that, wounded and faint as I
+was, you would not refuse me rest and shelter, and--and--hem, hem--I am
+very weak from loss of blood, Mrs. Juniper."
+
+"Poor fellow, I don't doubt that you are. Sarah, bring water and fresh
+linen. My own hands shall dress your wounds!"
+
+"No, no, dear Mrs. Juniper, I would not permit a delicate lady to look
+upon the rude gashes of war. If you will permit me, I will retire and
+dress my wounds." He tried hard to convulse his features with pain.
+
+"I will not allow that," said the widow. "These wounds were received in
+defending my country against the cruel Northern invader, and I shall
+dress them with my own hands."
+
+"No; oh! no, dear lady, you can not know how a soldier, rough and used
+only to the roar of cannon and clash of steel, must shrink from
+inflicting on a lady such needless pain."
+
+"Then I will have a surgeon brought," persisted kind-hearted Mrs.
+Juniper.
+
+"Quite unnecessary, my dear lady, as they are only flesh wounds--what we
+soldiers call mere scratches."
+
+Mrs. Juniper had his breakfast brought to the parlor and insisted on his
+reclining on the sofa. She asked a thousand questions, which Mr. Diggs
+answered in his extravagant manner. The day passed, and rumor after
+rumor, almost as wild and extravagant as Corporal Diggs' report, came
+from the battle-field, confirming the defeat, at least, if not the utter
+annihilation, of the army.
+
+As bodies of Union men were scouring the country, picking up stragglers
+from the Confederate army, who were fleeing in every direction, Mrs.
+Juniper suggested that Corporal Diggs had better have a bed prepared and
+sleep in the cellar, as her house might be entered and searched. The
+Corporal although asserting that, if armed, he would not be in the least
+afraid of half a hundred of the cowardly Yankees, consented, merely out
+of regard for the lady's feelings. Such scenes of carnage and bloodshed
+as must ensue, if an attempt should be made to capture him, would be too
+terrible for a delicate lady to witness. The corporal had no arms, all
+had been taken from him as he lay unconscious on the field, but Mrs.
+Juniper sent out among the hands and confiscated three guns, two old
+horse-pistols, and a long trooper's sword, which she had conveyed to the
+"brave soldier" in her cellar.
+
+A horse had that morning been found with saddle and bridle on, looking
+hungrily at the barn and trying to make the acquaintance of the sleek,
+well-fed equines, who answered his neighs from its windows. The negro,
+who found the horse, had put him in the barn and given him all the oats
+and corn he desired, which was a considerable amount. The corporal,
+hearing of the horse, went to see him, and at once recognized in that
+tall, raw-boned creature his noble January. The meeting of knight and
+steed was of course very touching, as the wealthy, handsome widow was
+present to witness it.
+
+As he walked back to the mansion he related many of the noble qualities
+of his horse, how he had fought over his master long after he lay
+insensible upon the battle-field. There was one little matter the "brave
+soldier" failed to explain, and that was, how, while insensible, the
+master knew what the horse was doing.
+
+"What a brave man he must be," thought the widow as she sat in her
+boudoir after the corporal had retired to the cellar, where he put the
+guns and pistols at the extreme corner of the room, least they should
+accidentally go off and kill him. "What a brave man he is, who has
+fought so many men! On him alone now depends the success of our cause.
+He is the Alfred the Great, the Charles the Second, who must gather an
+army and strike when our foe least expects it. Brave, brave man!" And
+the widow dreamed that night that she saw Corporal Diggs lead a vast
+army against the enemy, and that victory crowned his attempts. She saw
+the glorious South an independent nation and honors heaped upon the man
+she had succored. He was seated on the throne of the new kingdom and
+became a wise and good ruler.
+
+Waking, the widow actually wept with joy, for she would not believe that
+her vision was anything else than a direct revelation, and was sure that
+the fate of her beloved South hung upon the sword-point of the brave
+man, who was then sleeping in her cellar. True, he was small of stature,
+and, when mounted on January, did, as Seth Williams had said, look much
+like a bug on a log, but then he was brave, and many of the great
+military men were small.
+
+The corporal spent three or four days in concealment at the widow's,
+and, although his thorn scratches were entirely healed, he still kept
+the bandage on his head and carried his arm in a sling. He had
+discovered that, wounded and suffering, he elicited more sympathy from
+the beautiful widow. They usually walked out at twilight, and spent an
+hour in the spacious ground.
+
+Upon one occasion the widow told her dreams, and asked the brave man by
+her side what he thought of it.
+
+"Think of it? Hem, hem! Why, my dear Mrs. Juniper--hem, hem, hem!--why,
+it will be fulfilled to the very letter. Yes, my dear lady--hem,
+hem!"--and Diggs turned his face aside in a reflective manner, and his
+little eyes glowed with meaning, "it is my design to gather another army
+and hurl back the tide of adversity. My dear Mrs. Juniper, the world yet
+knows not Corporal Diggs, but it shall, it shall," and he struck the end
+of a stout stick which he carried in his hand into the pebble-covered
+earth. "Oh, if these scratches would but heal, so that I once more could
+take the field and lead an army on to victory; then they should
+know--hem, hem, hem!--they would learn that the Cæsars are not dead."
+
+"Oh! what a loss it would have been to our beloved South if you had been
+slain!" said the enraptured widow.
+
+"Fear not--hem, hem, hem--my dear madam, I shall not be slain. I have my
+destiny to fulfill. And now--hem, hem!--my dear madam, my dear Mrs.
+Juniper, my dear Julia, let me call you by that sweet name, I have
+something of great importance to speak of."
+
+An ambuscade could not have startled the widow more than this brave
+man's manner. She elevated her eyebrows, and her large dark eyes grew
+round with wonder as she said:
+
+"Why--why, Corporal Diggs, what can it be! What can you mean?"
+
+"Do you not comprehend me? Say, has love no sharper eyes? Oh, my dear,
+dear--Julia--" here Corporal Diggs' manner became demonstrative; he
+seemed to forget the severe wounds, and, starting from the garden seat,
+down he went on one knee, and drawing from the sling the arm that had
+been shattered by grapeshot, he clasped his hands as if in prayer. "Oh,
+my dear--hem, hem, hem!--my darling Julia, I love you! I have loved you
+ever since I first saw you, and I ask you--hem, hem!--to become mine.
+Accept this heart, which you have captured, and give me yours in
+return."
+
+His speech delivered, the little corporal remained on his knee, with his
+eyes closed and his lips pursed, in his endeavor to appear absorbed and
+earnest.
+
+"Mr. Diggs, your behavior is very unbecoming the brave soldier I took
+you to be," said the lady, after a moment's hesitation. "This is no time
+to talk of love."
+
+At this rebuke Mr. Diggs rose from his knees, abashed and confused, and
+resumed his seat.
+
+"We have enough, Corporal Diggs, to engage our minds for the present.
+While our beloved country is in peril we must forget all personal
+feelings. Let its dangers and its salvation be paramount."
+
+"But when this cruel war is over, and peace returns once more, will you
+then consent to become my wife?" persisted the corporal. "I--I--love
+you, and I--I--I can't help it. Say you will be my wife!"
+
+"It is growing rather late, Mr. Diggs, and the air is chilly. We will
+return to the house."
+
+They accordingly rose, and Diggs, walking in sullen, abashed silence by
+the widow's side, entered the great stone mansion. Mrs. Juniper retired
+to her own room, and Corporal Diggs to the cellar.
+
+Mrs. Julia Juniper had a tall, lantern-jawed, ill-disposed, and envious
+neighbor, who was a Union man for no other earthly reason than that all
+his neighbors were Confederates. He lived in a wretched little hovel,
+had a sickly wife, and eight children. He might have made a living on
+his little farm, but was too lazy to work, and continually engaged in
+petty lawsuits with his neighbors. Josiah Scraggs was a communist at
+heart, and he felt sure that, as he was such an excellent Union man and
+Mrs. Julia Juniper so decidedly "secesh" in principles, that eventually
+her magnificent mansion and large plantation would be taken from the
+widow and given to him. He had confided his hopes to his sickly wife and
+dirty children, and all were anxious for the happy change. Josiah
+Scraggs was constantly reporting the conduct of his neighbors,
+especially of the widow Juniper, to any Union soldiers who might be in
+the neighborhood. He had been watching the mansion since the battle of
+Carrick's Ford, for he suspected that she was "harboring secesh
+soldiers." Sure enough, one evening he saw the widow and Corporal Diggs
+walking together in the garden, and away he went to the headquarters of
+Colonel Holdfast, who was about ten miles away, to give information that
+secesh soldiers were concealed in the widow's mansion.
+
+He rode the old gray mare into the camp, and called for the colonel.
+Being shown to his tent, he quickly made the object of his visit known,
+magnifying many fold what he had seen, and leaving the colonel to infer
+that many more might be in the house.
+
+Scraggs, having made his report, was dismissed by the colonel. He
+loitered outside the tent, waiting hungrily for the colonel to execute
+to him and his heirs and assign forever a title in fee simple to the
+vast plantation and magnificent stone mansion of Mrs. Julia Juniper.
+Instead, the colonel sent for Captain Abner Tompkins, and ordered him to
+take his company, with as many more men as he needed, and proceed at
+once to Mrs. Juniper's to take prisoners the rebel soldiers lying
+concealed there.
+
+"My own company will be sufficient, I think, colonel," said Abner.
+
+"All right, then," replied the former, and turned to his papers without
+having issued the deed to Scraggs.
+
+As Abner was mustering his men, Scraggs re-entered the colonel's tent,
+and, reaching out a long, bony, finger, touched the officer on the
+shoulder. Colonel Holdfast looked up from his papers with a "Well, what
+now?"
+
+"What do I get for reportin' on this ere secesh woman?"
+
+"The consciousness, sir, of having done your duty," replied the colonel.
+
+"Well, but don't I git no pay?" asked Scraggs, his face darkening with
+disappointment, the house and plantation of Mrs. Juniper vanishing from
+before his mental vision.
+
+"None, sir; so good a Union man as you are surely would ask no
+compensation for doing his duty."
+
+"Well, but ain't you a goin' to give me her farm and house?" asked
+Scraggs, the disappointment on his face deepening into agony.
+
+"My dear sir," said the colonel, "I have no authority to give you any
+one's property. If you want a plantation you must purchase it of the
+owner."
+
+"Well, but she harbors secesh."
+
+"If her house becomes a nuisance in that way we shall be justified in
+burning it, but we can not take it from her and give it to any one
+else."
+
+The colonel again turned to his papers, and Scraggs, his long-cherished
+hopes blasted, left the tent, mounted his old gray mare, and rode home.
+
+Scraggs was only one of the many, on both sides, who reported their
+neighbors' deeds and misdeeds to reap reward therefrom.
+
+As Mrs. Juniper sat in her room that evening, the tramp of hoofs came to
+her ears. She extinguished her light and, going to the window, looked
+out into the night. The pale rays of the moon fell upon a large body of
+cavalry dismounting at her gate, and, oh horrors! surrounding her house.
+Swift as the wind the widow flew down two flights of stairs to the
+cellar, where she acquainted the "brave soldier" of the fact, and
+implored him to be merciful, should they discover him, and not kill any
+more than was necessary in self-defense. Poor little Diggs sat cuddled
+up in one corner, his round face pale as death, looking anything in the
+world but dangerous.
+
+Then came loud knocking at the front door.
+
+"There," said the widow, "they are at the front door. I will try to send
+them away; but you are armed, and you are a brave man and there are not
+more than fifty; so, of course, you will not fear them."
+
+The widow turned and left, while poor Diggs sat cowering and mentally
+ejaculating:
+
+"Oh! Lordy, I'll be killed, I know I shall!"
+
+Mrs. Juniper went herself to the door and opened it.
+
+Captain Abner Tompkins stood there, sword in hand. Behind him were
+twenty or more of his men, all armed, while the others were scattered in
+different portions of the yard.
+
+"What will you have, gentlemen?" asked the widow, holding the lamp above
+her head and looking fearlessly down into their faces.
+
+"Pardon me, madam," said the young captain, bowing, "but we have been
+informed that some rebels are quartering here, and have come for them."
+
+"Your informant was both meddlesome and ignorant. There are no rebel
+_soldiers_ in the house," was the widow's reply.
+
+"I beg your pardon, madam," said Abner, entering unbidden, and followed
+by several of his men. "I have no cause to doubt, yet my orders are
+imperative, and I must search your house."
+
+The widow had the tact to yield without more argument, and the search
+commenced. From her bedroom to the kitchen, all the house was thoroughly
+searched. The Captain laid his hand on the cellar door.
+
+"Hold!" said the widow, laying her hand on his arm. "I told you there
+were no rebel soldiers here, and I told you the truth. There is,
+however, one of them in the cellar, but for humanity's sake I warn you
+not to encounter him. He is a host in himself, a perfect tornado, when
+roused. You will be all killed if you venture, for he is well armed."
+
+The young captain smiled.
+
+"You say he is a tornado; we are each a cyclone, and together we may
+raise a hurricane. But do not fear, madam, for, I assure you, we shall
+take him without the firing of a shot."
+
+Opening the door, Captain Tompkins boldly walked down the flight of
+stairs, leading to the cellar, a light in one hand and a drawn sword in
+the other--a number of his men following him. A sight met their view at
+the foot of the stairs, calculated rather to excite laughter than to
+strike terror to their hearts. A small man in gray uniform, rushing
+aimlessly about trying to scale the cellar wall, to hide beneath the
+boxes, to find some way--any way--of escape. His actions were more like
+that of a rat in a trap than a brave soldier.
+
+Mrs. Juniper, left in the room above, faint with terror, sank upon the
+nearest chair and clasped her hands to her ears to shut out the sounds
+of conflict that must inevitably follow.
+
+"Halloa, Diggs! what are you doing here?" cried Captain Tompkins, who
+could not restrain his laughter. Mr. Diggs had been performing leap
+after leap, in his vain endeavors to get away, ejaculating all the
+while:
+
+"Oh, Lordy, Lordy! I know I shall be killed, I know I shall be killed!"
+
+At the sound of a familiar voice, he looked around, and, discovering who
+his captors were, he sprang forward and threw his arms around the neck
+of the captain, crying:
+
+"Oh! Abner, Abner, Abner, my dearest friend Abner, you will not let me
+be killed! Oh! say you will not let me be killed! Although I was
+persuaded into the rebel army, I am not a Confederate. I have always
+thought that it was wrong to fight under any but the flag of Washington
+and Marion. Oh! don't let them kill me! Oh, Abner, Abner, for Heaven's
+sake, say you will protect me. I have suffered death a thousand times
+since I entered this unholy cause."
+
+Abner, still laughing, assured him that he should not be injured, that
+he should be treated as a prisoner of war.
+
+Corporal Diggs, assuring men and officers that there was no stronger
+Union man living than he, that he was ready to enlist and fight until he
+died for the Union, followed the troops out of the house. The widow
+fixed a gaze of astonishment on the "brave soldier," upon "whom the fate
+of the South rested," and when she heard his imploring tones and his
+avowed determination to fight for the Union till he died, her proud lips
+curled with scorn, and, without a word, she passed from the room.
+
+The corporal mounted January, and rode away in good spirits toward the
+Union camp.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+YELLOW STEVE.
+
+
+Mr. Diggs fulfilled his determination to enlist in the Union army,
+insisting, the very day after his capture, on becoming a member of
+Abner's company. Abner told him that he had better consider the matter,
+but he declared he needed no further time; that now he was freed from
+error, and the pernicious influence of Seth Williams, who had persuaded
+him into espousing an unholy cause, and having wronged his beloved
+country by taking up arms against it, he wanted to atone by fighting for
+it. As the Union cause needed soldiers, Mr. Diggs, not corporal now, did
+not offer his services in vain. He was at once enrolled, and the same
+day the regiment started, by forced marches, to join the Union forces
+under Generals Scott and McDowell, where Mr. Patrick Henry Diggs was
+likely to see service in earnest.
+
+On the 20th of July, the next after the day that Abner's regiment had
+joined the main army, and the day before the terrible battle of
+Manassas, or Bull Run, Abner Tompkins sat alone in his tent. It was
+late. The last picket had been stationed, the last order given, waiting
+for the morning to advance on the terrible foe, that lay sleeping over
+the hills only a few miles distant. It was but natural that his thoughts
+should wander back to his home. He drew out a small, many-folding
+locket, into which he gazed with looks of infinite tenderness. It
+represented the features of those whom his heart held most dear--his
+father's face, grave and most earnest, full of kindliness and honesty of
+purpose; his mother's face, beautiful and proud and tender; the third
+face on which the young officer gazed was young and fresh and fair. He
+seemed to look through the clear eyes into the pure, spotless soul. He
+gazed long and steadfastly, murmuring: "O Irene, Irene, shall we ever
+meet again?"
+
+The next and last face was that of a young man--a dark, fearless face;
+firmness was in every lineament, determination in every line. Fearless,
+yet frank; proud, yet tender; the face was that of one who would be
+powerful for good or evil, who would scorn alike death and dishonor.
+
+"War has severed the ties that bound us, my brother," spoke the captain.
+"Why can not political differences be settled without resort to arms? It
+is the ambitious and the great who stir up strife, and their humble
+followers fight their battles. They dwell in ease and safety, while my
+poor brother and I cross swords and shed each other's blood to uphold
+them in their greatness."
+
+He closed the locket and placed it in his breast pocket, and the look
+of sadness deepened on his face. There came a gentle knock on the board
+that took the place of a door to the captain's tent.
+
+"Come in," said Abner.
+
+The board was set aside, and a pale, fair youth, about eighteen years of
+age, entered.
+
+"Anything stirring yet, Willie?" asked the captain.
+
+"Nothing, captain, except an occasional picket's shot," replied the boy.
+"But, if you please, there is a fellow out here who wants to see you."
+
+"Who is he?" asked Abner.
+
+"I don't know, captain. I never saw him before. He is a bright mulatto,
+and he says he must see you. He is dressed in citizen's clothes and
+unarmed."
+
+"Let him come in, Willie."
+
+The youthful soldier touched his cap lightly and withdrew, and a moment
+later a tall, yellow mulatto entered. He looked sharply about the tent,
+as though fearing that some secret foe might suddenly spring upon him.
+
+"Have a seat," said Abner, pointing to the only unoccupied camp-stool
+that the tent afforded.
+
+The mulatto took the proffered seat and fixed his bright, yellowish dark
+eyes on the young officer.
+
+"Well, sir, what can I do for you?" asked the captain.
+
+"Nothin'," replied the mulatto with a grin on his shriveled yellow face.
+
+"Well, then, what can you do for me?"
+
+"Nothin'," the grin broadening.
+
+"Then, sir, what is your business here?" asked Abner, beginning to lose
+patience.
+
+"I came to tell you that I was--here," said the mulatto, with provoking
+coolness.
+
+"Well, what do you propose, now that you are here?" asked Abner, smiling
+in spite of himself.
+
+"Your name is Tompkins--you are Captain Abner Tompkins?" said the
+mulatto.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You have a brother Oleah, who is a captain in the Confederate army,
+that is right across the hill here?"
+
+"Yes. What of him?"
+
+"Oh, he is well," said the mulatto.
+
+"What else have you to say?" asked Abner.
+
+"Your father is George W. Tompkins, who lives on a plantation near
+Snagtown?"
+
+"Yes. What of him?"
+
+"Oh, he's well, too."
+
+"Well, if you have anything to say, say it and be off," said Abner.
+
+"Your sister as you call her, who was left at your door when a baby--"
+
+"What of her?" cried Abner, eagerly. "Do you know anything of her?"
+
+"Yes, she is well, too."
+
+Abner, who had been started from his seat in his eagerness, sank back,
+and looked at his visitor in blank amazement. At length he said,
+sternly: "If you have nothing of importance to communicate, leave me. I
+have no time for pleasantry. From your manner I expected news--bad
+news--"
+
+"And was disappointed," said the mulatto, with a smile.
+
+"Who are you?" demanded Abner.
+
+"I don't mind letting you know my name. I am called Yellow Steve--got no
+other name. I just come to say I shall be around, and if you should ever
+need me it is most likely you will find me right at hand. I am
+everywhere. Can come as near as possible being in three places at once."
+
+"You must be a remarkable person," said Abner.
+
+"I have a remarkable story to tell you at some time."
+
+"Why not tell me now? I may fall in to-morrow's fight."
+
+"Then I will tell your brother."
+
+"But he may fall. Does it concern me?"
+
+"It is the waif, the foundling, you call sister, my story concerns. Some
+time you shall have it--not now."
+
+The man disappeared through the door as he spoke, and, though Abner
+rushed out after him, he was gone.
+
+He inquired of Willie Thornbridge which way the man had gone, but Willie
+declared he had not seen him come out of the tent. He pursued his search
+and inquiries, but no one else had seen Yellow Steve at all.
+
+Abner Tompkins, on the morning of the battle, was early astir, and,
+breakfast over, the bugle sounded boots and saddles. Abner kept his
+lines well dressed, and awaited the order to advance. The skirmish lines
+had already been thrown out, and the distant roar of guns could be
+heard.
+
+Diggs declared that war was a cruel "institution," and that he was ready
+to retire at as early a date as possible.
+
+"You present a nice figure on that horse," said Corporal Grimm. "Darned
+if a cannon-shot could afford to miss you."
+
+"Yes," added Sergeant Swords, "you'll present as nice a mark for the
+sharpshooters up on that camel's back as if you were a squirrel in a
+tree."
+
+"You'll come out all right yet, Henry," said Uncle Dan, the scout,
+riding up at this moment, with his trusty rifle on the pommel of his
+saddle.
+
+"Do you think I'll be shot, Uncle Dan?" asked Diggs, shuddering in spite
+of himself.
+
+"No, not if you do enough shooting yourself," replied the old man. "Ye
+must watch yer chance and pop it to them so fast they can't git a chance
+to pop back."
+
+At this moment a pale, fair youth, mounted on a bright bay horse, came
+galloping up to Captain Tompkins. He was dressed in the uniform of a
+United States cavalryman, with a saber and carbine at his side, and
+pistols in his holsters. The sight of this youth, and the nearness of
+the coming battle, brought sad reflections to Abner's mind. Willie
+Thornbridge was just eighteen, the only comfort and support of his
+widowed mother. Abner remembered well the bright, sunny morning when
+Willie bade his mother farewell, and the mother, with tear-streaming
+eyes and aching heart, admonished Abner to take care of and protect him.
+
+"What have you, Willie?" asked Abner, as the youth drew rein at his
+captain's side.
+
+"Something the adjutant gave me," said Willie, handing a paper to Abner,
+who read and, carefully folding it, put it in the breast-pocket of his
+coat. At this moment the bugle sounded "forward."
+
+"Fall in by my side, Willie," said Abner, and the boy wheeled into line
+by his captain, with Uncle Dan on the other side of him.
+
+"Forward!" came the order, and the vast columns of men were in motion,
+moving on toward those black lines of the foe that lay in the distance.
+The far off firing of skirmishers became more rapid.
+
+"Are you afraid?" asked Abner of the boy soldier.
+
+"No. With you on one side and Uncle Dan on the other, I have no fear,"
+and he smiled in such an assuring way that Abner could not doubt him.
+
+Uncle Dan, as we have before said was an army scout, and not a regular
+soldier. However, he had volunteered on this occasion to accompany
+Abner's company. He was well mounted, his dress was half civil and half
+military, and his arms were his trusty rifle and a pair of holsters.
+
+The vast columns were rapidly moving when Diggs exclaimed:
+
+"Oh, Lordy! I feel very sick!"
+
+"You will feel better soon," said Corporal Grimm, his file-leader.
+
+"Ye'll have enough soon to take up yer attention," put in Sergeant
+Swords.
+
+By nine o'clock the fight began in earnest. Colonel Holdfast's cavalry
+was at first held in reserve at the foot of the hill. When it was
+ordered to advance, just as the top of the hill was reached, January
+became frightened at the flashing guns, and, wheeling about, dashed down
+the hill with Diggs' saber dangling at his side.
+
+The bugle rung out the fearful note--a wild dash, a moment's delirious
+excitement--and they were at the rebel's guns. The battery was captured
+with but little loss, and the guns turned on the retreating foe. The
+whole army now advanced, and a stubborn fight ensued, which resulted in
+the Confederate lines slowly falling back.
+
+Cheer upon cheer arose along the Union lines, as the foe retreated and
+pursuit commenced. Mr. Diggs, who had viewed the battle afar off, seeing
+victory perched upon the banner of the Union forces, prevailed on
+January to join in the pursuit, and galloping up to his regiment, waved
+his sword high in the air, shouting:
+
+"Hip, hip, huzzah, huzzah, huzzah! for the old Stars and Stripes, the
+flag of Washington and Marion! Charge everybody! I want to get among
+them! They shall know that Patrick Henry Diggs can fight."
+
+The crest of the hill was reached, and the whole Confederate army
+suddenly burst into view, drawn up in a line of battle, a thunderclap
+shook the earth, and a huge volume of smoke seemed to enwrap it. Death
+and destruction was hurled among the advancing ranks. The ground was
+strewn at the first fire with dead and wounded. Out from these columns
+of smoke came the fearful Black Horse Regiment, bearing down like a dark
+storm on the already stunned Union lines.
+
+Retreat was the only thing, and retreat became rout and panic. It was
+the arrival of General Johnston, who, having eluded Patterson, had come
+up with reinforcements that so suddenly turned the tide of battle,
+making defeat out of almost certain victory.
+
+Abner saw his men and horses rolling in the dust from the deadly fire. A
+score of saddles were emptied at the first volley, and a score of
+riderless horses dashed back frightened, to spread panic in the rear. No
+bugle sounded the retreat, there was no need for any. It was vain to
+attempt to stem the current, for his men had lost all self-control.
+
+As Uncle Dan wheeled his horse to follow the flying regiment, he saw
+Willie Thornbridge sink in his saddle. Reaching out his strong arm, he
+drew the slight boyish figure before him on his own horse.
+
+"Are you hurt, Willie?" the old man asked.
+
+The boy made no reply, but the uproar and confusion doubtless drowned
+the old man's words. He kept steadily on, bearing the slight burden,
+passing the infantry, the artillery, the baggage and ammunition trains,
+and on, until he reached the outskirts of the retreating army.
+
+"Is he hurt?" asked Abner Tompkins, who had drawn up a portion of his
+shattered company.
+
+"I don't know," said Uncle Dan, "he has not spoken during our entire
+ride. Can you get down, Willie?"
+
+There was no answer. Captain Tompkins sprang from his horse and went to
+assist the boy. As the old man released his hold, the young soldier
+fell into the captain's arms and they saw he was dead.
+
+Dead without a pang. Dead without a moment's preparation, without one
+word of endearment or farewell to his lonely and widowed mother.
+
+Just behind Willie's left ear was a small, dark-red hole, from which the
+purple life-blood was still oozing. The small insignificant speck, as it
+seemed, had opened a door, through which his young soul had taken its
+everlasting flight.
+
+Taking up the corpse, the cavalcade rode sadly on for a few miles, to
+where the tired Union army, or a portion of it, encamped for the night.
+
+Mr. Diggs was in the very height of his patriotism and bravery, when the
+arrival of the re-enforcements so suddenly changed the tide of battle.
+
+"Oh, Lordy! I'll be killed, I know I shall!" he shrieked, and January
+again turned and fled before the tempest. Taking a course to the left of
+that pursued by the regular army, Diggs soon found himself on the
+outskirts of the battle. As he looked over his shoulder, he beheld a
+powerful cavalryman in full uniform, mounted on a horse black as
+midnight, in hot pursuit of him.
+
+"Oh, Lordy! he'll kill me, I know he will," yelled the miserable Diggs,
+as he urged January on at the top of his speed. Casting back occasional
+glances, he saw that the huge black horse was gradually gaining on him.
+
+Things had really become serious, and Diggs was in momentary danger of
+the ponderous saber, which the cavalryman flourished threateningly in
+the air as he came on like the wind. They had been flying over a level
+piece of cleared land, but now a thick body of timber and brush loomed
+up before them. There was yet a chance. Once in the timber, Diggs might
+elude his dangerous pursuer. The Confederate cavalryman evidently
+understood this, for, with a whack he sent his saber into the scabbard,
+and drew his pistol, without once slacking his speed.
+
+"Oh, Lordy! I shall be killed this time sure," bawled Diggs. Again he
+glanced toward the cavalryman and saw him raise his deadly weapon. Diggs
+yelled, screamed, and implored, all the while urging January to greater
+speed. The wood was almost at hand.
+
+"Bang!" went the pistol, and Diggs felt a sharp pain, as if a red-hot
+iron had been suddenly jerked across the top of his left shoulder.
+
+"Oh, I am killed! I am killed!" he yelled, as January plunged into the
+thick underbrush.
+
+The Confederate evidently believing he had killed the Yankee (having,
+indeed, the Yankee's own word for it), turned and dashed away.
+
+January had not gone twenty yards in his mad race through the woods
+before he plunged into the mill-stream. Diggs' wound was not serious and
+the water was shallow, so he soon managed to crawl out on the opposite
+side, where he seated himself for a moment at the foot of a tree,
+gasping, spitting, and sneezing, the water running from his clothes in
+rivulets. "This soldier business don't suit me," he muttered, "and I
+know I shall be killed if I don't quit it. It is nothing but duckings,
+falls, being torn with thorns and shot with guns--"
+
+A sharp firing in the woods roused him to a reality of his situation,
+and, mounting the dripping January, he galloped away to join his
+regiment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+A SOLDIER'S TURKEY HUNT.
+
+
+The armies of the North and the armies of the South had been
+concentrating for months prior to the battle of Bull Run, resulting in
+the defeat of the Northern troops and in heavy loss to both sides; after
+collision came recoil, as of mighty waves dashing against a rock bound
+coast. Predatory bands of disorganized soldiers from both sides roamed
+the country, and, in many instances, not plundering merely, but
+ruthlessly destroying what they could not seize.
+
+Mr. Diggs had found his company the day after the battle, and narrated
+to his comrades his hair-breadth escape and the many heroic deeds which
+he had performed, among others, the deadly attack on the Confederate
+cavalryman, who had wounded him in the shoulder. He became quite a hero
+in Corporal Grimm's eyes, his experience at Bull Run reminding the
+corporal of incidents that had happened in his ten days' military
+service under General Preston, also recalling to the mind of Sergeant
+Swords details of his own service under Captain Strong, all of which was
+circumstantially narrated for the edification of Mr. Diggs, who again
+rejoiced that he had not carried out his rash threat of leaving the
+army. Laurels yet, he knew, must crown his brow. Already he had become a
+hero. True, when faced by danger and death and sorely tried, he
+acknowledged to himself that he wavered; but, in the quiet of camp, his
+patriotism returned and he again felt ready to meet the foe.
+
+The day after the battle, the body of Willie Thornbridge was consigned
+to its last resting-place. There were but two mourners gathered over
+that little mound of earth--his captain and Uncle Dan, the scout, who
+felt, not only grief for the brave young life so early ended, but a
+deeper pain for the widowed mother at home, now childless.
+
+Colonel Holdfast's regiment was falling back toward the Junction, its
+old head-quarters. Their movements were necessarily slow, as they were
+constantly recruiting, and they were compelled to be wary, for small
+parties of stragglers were occasionally picked up by independent
+companies of Confederates.
+
+One evening Corporal Grimm suggested to Sergeant Swords that they form
+an independent foraging corps of half a dozen and make a raid on the
+turkeys of an old rebel, about a mile from the camp, that night. The
+sergeant acquiesced--we never knew a sergeant who would not acquiesce in
+such a plan, even at the risk of being reduced to the ranks--and they
+were not long in finding plenty of volunteers. The corps must not exceed
+six, as the secret could not be so well kept among more, and a larger
+force could not be so well handled.
+
+Our friend Diggs was easily persuaded to enter into the project. For the
+last two days he had been contemplating writing a book, to be entitled
+"Camp Life," narrating his own experiences. This freak, he thought,
+might afford a diverting incident.
+
+Great caution and secrecy were necessary, for, if knowledge of their
+project reached head-quarters, it would have put an end to their sport.
+At dark, having provided themselves with a dark lantern, they passed the
+guard and wended their way over the long hill toward the barn-yard of
+the old rebel. The night was very dark with a rainy mist or fog, which
+made darkness and discomfort more intense.
+
+"Now, boys," said Sergeant Swords, "this is an old rebel, and we have a
+perfect right to confiscate his turkeys; but let us be quiet about it,
+so as not to disturb the old man."
+
+"Of course," said Corporal Grimm, "let him rest in peace, and dream
+sweet dreams of the coming glory of the Southern Confederacy."
+
+They stole noiselessly over the damp ground, occasionally chuckling with
+delight at the thought of their coming feast. The long hill was passed
+over and the barn reached, where the unsuspecting rebel turkeys were
+roosting.
+
+"This is delightful," thought Mr. Diggs, his short legs moving rapidly,
+in order to keep up with the rest of the company. "What an entertaining,
+amusing, and instructive chapter this will furnish for my book! This is
+one phase of soldier life. Night so black, so intensely black--hem--that
+one might write his name in chalk upon it. Dark, wild clouds and howling
+winds with thick banks of fog almost blocking the way, as six resolute,
+determined, dare-devil soldiers, of whom the modest writer was one--He,
+he, he!" chuckled Diggs to himself. "I'll make it capital."
+
+His ruminations were brought to a close by arriving at the tall, dark
+barn, where Sergeant Swords called a halt and solemnly informed his
+command that the desired turkeys were inside.
+
+"I say--hem, hem, hem!" began Mr. Diggs.
+
+"Well, don't make so much noise about it!" whispered Corporal Grimm,
+clutching him by the arm, "or we will have the old rebel and his five
+hundred niggers on us in no time."
+
+The door of the barn was locked, but this slight obstacle was soon
+overcome.
+
+"Quick!" whispered Sergeant Swords, and the men glided in.
+
+The loud barking of a dog from the house came to their ears, and the
+sound of angry voices. Tom Scott closed the large double door just as
+the nose of a ferocious dog came thump against them.
+
+"Hist!" said the sergeant. "I believe we are discovered."
+
+"What is it, old man?" came in shrill accents from the house.
+
+"Some one's in the barn stealing hosses."
+
+At this moment the turkeys, becoming alarmed at the very evident
+expressed intentions of the intruders, set up a loud "Quit, quit!"
+
+"They're stealing the turkeys. It's some of them thievin'
+Aberlitionists," said the old woman.
+
+"You bring the lantern, and I'll see," answered a deep voice, evidently
+that of the cross old rebel himself.
+
+"We're in for it now, boys," said Sergeant Swords, turning on the light
+from his dark lantern. "Hunt holes somewhere."
+
+Tom Scott had enough to do to hold the doors against the dog, which
+seemed determined to force an entrance. Corporal Grimm sprang into a
+meal chest, which he saw at the far end of the barn, and the lid closed
+down on him; two others found concealment behind a hay-mow, and Sergeant
+Swords and Mr. Diggs sprang up among the rafters, where the turkeys were
+roosting.
+
+"Oh, Lordy! I shall be killed, I know I shall!" wailed poor Diggs, as he
+scrambled up.
+
+The turkeys were now remonstrating loudly.
+
+"Stop your chin music!" said the sergeant.
+
+Tom Scott was still holding the doors when the old man and his wife came
+to them.
+
+"Some one is in the barn," said the voice of the old man. "See here, the
+lock is broken off."
+
+In a moment, in spite of Tom's efforts, the door was pushed open, and
+the bull dog, with loud, deep yelps, sprang in.
+
+Tom kept well behind the door, and pulled it close against him. The old
+woman held up a lantern, and the sergeant and our friend Diggs were both
+discovered by the man and the dog at the same time.
+
+The dog announced his discovery by angry growls, and his master, a man
+about fifty years of age, by closely examining an old, ugly musket in
+his hand.
+
+"Hulloa, you thieves; I've cotched you now?" he said, advancing.
+
+"Good evening, sir," said Swords.
+
+"What are you doing up there, you scamps?"
+
+"Roosting," was the cool response.
+
+"Shoot them!" said the old woman, holding up the lantern.
+
+"Oh, no! don't, grandpa," said the sergeant.
+
+"Oh, Lordy! I'll be killed!" wailed Diggs, trying to screen himself
+behind a turkey.
+
+Click went the old musket.
+
+"Quit, quit," peeped the turkeys.
+
+"I second the motion," said Sergeant Swords.
+
+"Shoot them, old man; shoot 'em dead," repeated the woman, whose eyes
+were blazing with fury at sight of the blue-coats.
+
+"I intend to," he said, bringing his musket to his shoulder, which
+movement made Diggs fairly howl with fear.
+
+"Hold on, grandpa; give a fellow a chance to say his prayers afore you
+pop him over," said Sergeant Swords. "If you don't turn away that old
+popgun you may hurt some of these turkeys. Besides, I've got a battalion
+of men here all around you, and I can raise the devil."
+
+At this moment the dog, which had been prowling about, discovered Tom
+Scott behind the door, and renewed his attack upon him. Tom fired two
+shots from his revolver, one of which silenced the dog forever. The two
+men in the hay-mow now came rolling down, much like two huge balls, each
+snatching a turkey as he came.
+
+Corporal Grimm sprang from the meal-chest, white as a snowball.
+
+"Look there, old man; thar's a ghost!" cried the woman, pointing at
+Corporal Grimm. The old man leveled his musket and fired, but the shot
+flew wide of its mark, and Corporal Grimm advanced.
+
+The old man and old woman took to their heels, and the next moment was
+heard the sound of many voices and the tramp of many feet.
+
+"Secesh, by hokey!" cried Sergeant Swords, leaping from his perch with a
+gobbler's neck in each hand. "Git up and git!" and all made a rapid
+exit, leaving poor Diggs still perched on the rafters, bewildered and
+confused. In their haste they left the dark lantern in the barn with the
+slides open, by the side of the old woman's lantern, which she had
+dropped in her haste.
+
+"Oh, Lordy, I shall be killed; I know I shall," wailed poor Diggs,
+frozen to his perch by his terror.
+
+Bang! bang! bang! went a dozen shots, their blaze lighting up the
+intense darkness. It came from the new arrivals firing at the flying
+soldiers, who were rapidly retreating with their prizes. Tom Scott lost
+a thumb by a random shot, but he did not lose either of the two turkeys
+he had started with.
+
+"Who were they, Seth?" Diggs heard a voice outside ask.
+
+"I don't know; abolition soldiers, probably, stealing chickens," replied
+another voice.
+
+Diggs thought he had heard both voices before, but in his terror he was
+not sure.
+
+"Guess they got no chickens," said a third voice, and Diggs could hear
+the speaker ramming a load down his gun.
+
+"Let's take a look in the barn," said the first speaker. "Halloa! if
+they ain't left their lanterns burning; left in a hurry, I guess."
+
+The blood fairly froze in the veins of our friend Diggs, as he heard
+several steps approaching the barn door. Flight was now impossible, if
+it had not been before.
+
+Several men, dressed in the gray uniform of Confederates, appeared at
+the barn door.
+
+"Halloa!" cried one, in the uniform of a lieutenant, "here is a dead
+dog. Can that be what those three shots were fired at which brought us
+here?"
+
+"By Jove, Lieutenant Snapemup, there's a queer rooster," and the
+speaker pointed to our friend Diggs, who sat trembling astride the
+rafter.
+
+"Who are you and what are you doing up there?" cried Lieutenant
+Snapemup.
+
+"Oh, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy!" groaned Diggs.
+
+"Come down there, Stumpy," cried Diggs' old tormentor and former
+companion, Seth Williams, entering.
+
+As Diggs showed no sign of an intention to obey his order, Seth adopted
+a summary method for bringing him down. Taking a musket from a soldier,
+he fired a shot which passed about a foot above the small, round head.
+With a howl of fear and desperation, Diggs, who verily believed he was
+killed, let go his hold and fell from the beam, head first into the open
+meal-chest that was just beneath him.
+
+"Williams, what do you mean? You have killed him!" cried Lieutenant
+Snapemup.
+
+"No, I have not touched him," replied Seth.
+
+"Who is it?" asked Howard Jones entering the barn.
+
+"A Yank," replied Williams, and, walking forward to the chest, where
+Diggs was floundering and sneezing in the meal, he seized him by the
+nape of the neck, pulled him out and deposited him on the floor, where
+he stood, white with meal, and his eyes and ears full.
+
+"Who are you?" asked Seth, peering into the face of his victim, who
+stood digging his fists into his eyes.
+
+"I--I--hem--that is--I don't know," stammered Diggs.
+
+"Let me see," said Williams, giving him a shake so vigorous that the
+meal flew in white clouds from his hair and clothes. "I do. I know you.
+You are Patrick Henry Diggs, by all that's wonderful! Where have you
+been, corporal?"
+
+"I--hem--I--I--that is to say, I don't know," gasped Diggs.
+
+"You don't hey? Well, collect your ideas," replied Seth.
+
+"Well, yes--hem--that is to say--hem, hem--I have been a prisoner."
+
+The men now crowded around Diggs, who, having collected his faculties,
+told them how he had been taken prisoner at Carrick's Ford, how he had
+tried again and again to escape, how he had joined the foraging party
+with the full intention of escaping; he told a moving story of the
+compulsion which had been used to force him to put on the uniform of a
+Union soldier.
+
+Seth Williams told him that they were very glad they had found him, for
+they were going back to Snagtown, and he knew Crazy Joe would mourn if
+his mud man did not return with the rest. Diggs flew into a fury as of
+old; but the barn and premises having been explored, the word of command
+was given, and Mr. Diggs found himself again on the march, but this time
+with other matter for thought than a diverting chapter for his
+contemplated book.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+MR. TOMPKINS RECEIVES STRANGE NEWS.
+
+
+The war cloud grew darker day by day. The time had actually come when
+families were divided, and brother was arrayed against brother. But
+little business was done in the border and middle States. Men seemed to
+have suddenly gone mad. The once industrious farmer had deserted his
+farm, and the plow lay rusting in the weedy furrow. A majority of the
+able-bodied men were either in the Northern or Southern army. The
+wildest and most exaggerated rumors were flying over the land.
+Skirmishes were reported as tremendous battles, hundreds were magnified
+into thousands, and tens to hundreds. Men, who had always been peaceable
+and law abiding, seemed suddenly inspired with a mania for the murder,
+plunder and destruction of all who did not adhere to their opinions.
+Friends became enemies, neighbors looked upon each other with cold
+suspicion or expressed open hostility. All baser attributes of man's
+nature, kept in check by the strong arm of law in time of peace, were
+roused and brought to the surface.
+
+The plantation of Mr. Tompkins had not been visited by hostile forces
+since the visit of Oleah's company. But that event was sufficient to
+give him full knowledge of the seriously dangerous condition of the
+country. Mr. Tompkins was greatly changed. A careworn expression had
+settled on his face--a face haggard and livid--years older than when we
+first looked upon it, and hair whitening fast. The bloom had faded from
+Mrs. Tompkins' delicate dark face, and the happy smile from her lips.
+
+The harmony of the household had been disturbed, never again to be
+restored. The peace which had lasted for years was broken, so were the
+ties of love, which had defined the ravages of time, and the thousand
+petty vexations of domestic life were sadly strained. Mr. Tompkins'
+political preference was cramped and choked by his family division.
+True, no open rupture had taken place between him and his wife, yet the
+very fact that both were silent upon the exciting topic of the day
+brought about that coolness which is sure to result when there is a
+forbidden topic between husband and wife. Mr. Tompkins spent the days in
+anxiety, and the nights brought no peace. He went to the village almost
+daily for the mail, and found the newspapers full of accounts of bloody
+battles, while from lip to lip passed horrible rumors.
+
+When the defeat at Bull Run was rumored he waited to gather authentic
+news, with painfully complicated feelings--anxiety for the cause he
+could not openly avow, and for his sons, in either army, one always to
+be in the victorious army, and one in the ranks of the defeated. And
+this thought chased away the look of joy that for an instant lit up the
+face of Mrs. Tompkins when she learned the news.
+
+Days passed, and weeks, but no news came of either son. All Mr. Tompkins
+knew was that armies were marching and counter-marching daily, and
+filling the country with alarm.
+
+Communication north and south was cut off, and it was almost impossible
+for any letter to cross the line.
+
+It was evening, three or four weeks after the battle of Bull Run. Mr.
+Tompkins had, as usual, been to Snagtown, and returned; the Summer sun
+was sinking, battling in golden glory, a thick, dark bank of clouds
+gathering in the northwest. Mr. Tompkins sat in a rustic seat on the
+lawn, beneath the spreading branches of a maple, which had of late
+become his favorite resort. As he sat, his eyes wandered off to the
+northwest, rather in listlessness than interest.
+
+The sun went to rest behind the hill, and lightning flashed from the
+dark recesses of the clouds, and twilight, soft and gray, began to
+gather about the landscape.
+
+A man entered the front yard and walked leisurely down the white
+gravelled walk toward the portion of the lawn where Mr. Tompkins was
+sitting. He was a man apparently near Mr. Tompkins' own age, but his
+form erect, and lithe, still seemed to retain his vitality and youthful
+vigor. His woolly, sun burned hair was streaked with gray; his yellow
+face was wrinkled, but his eyes were fired with energy. The rapid change
+of expression on his face was perhaps the most remarkable thing about
+this man--at one moment gentle, almost appealing, the next inspired with
+the fury of a demon. The mulatto carried himself with a boldness and a
+freedom not common with those of his color. Walking up to the planter
+and touching the brim of his weather-beaten hat, he said:
+
+"Good evening, sir. Mr. Tompkins, I believe?"
+
+"That's my name. What is your business with me?" returned the planter,
+sharply.
+
+"I want to see you," replied the mulatto, coolly, taking, unbidden, a
+seat on the bench beneath the tree.
+
+"To see me? Well, what for?"
+
+"To talk with you," was the reply.
+
+"What is it?" demanded the planter. "Have you a bad master, and do you
+want me to buy you?"
+
+"No, sir, I am not for sale," replied the mulatto, his face glowing with
+a baleful light. "I am no slave, I am free, and free by my own
+exertions."
+
+"Well, what is it you have to say to me?"
+
+"Something, I think, you will be glad to hear."
+
+The planter began to lose patience. "If you have any thing to say to me,
+say it at once."
+
+"Well, to begin with, you have two sons, one in the Confederate and one
+in the Union army."
+
+"What of them?"
+
+"They are well."
+
+"Thank you, thank you for the news," cried the planter, rising and
+grasping the old man's hand. "When did you see them last?"
+
+"You are willing to talk to me now," said the mulatto, with a smile.
+
+"Where did you see my boys last?" repeated Mr. Tompkins, eagerly,
+unheeding the interruption.
+
+"Only a few days ago."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"In their camps. They both are moving back this way."
+
+"How came you to see them both? Is one of them a prisoner?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You can not have been in both armies?"
+
+"I have been."
+
+"How did that happen?"
+
+"How I go is a secret known only to myself, but I go wherever desire or
+duty call me, and armies, guards, and prisons, locked and bolted doors,
+are no impediment to me. I saw your sons, and they are well."
+
+It had grown almost dark, yet the planter could see the eyes of his
+strange visitor gleam weirdly.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked, the little superstition he had in his nature
+aroused.
+
+"They call me Yellow Steve."
+
+"Where do you live?"
+
+"On the earth, in the air, almost on the air."
+
+"By that you mean you live in no particular place?" said the planter.
+
+"Yes. There was a time when I was human, when I had human desires and
+human feeling, but all that is changed. My soul has been tortured until
+what little reason I ever possessed has fled. There are times, sir, when
+I am not a human being."
+
+"You are crazy," said the planter, with an incredulous smile.
+
+"Have you ever read of Wagner, the Wehr-wolf?"
+
+"Yes, in my boyhood I have read of that remarkable personage," replied
+the planter.
+
+"You remember that periodically, he became a wolf, a demon. Well, sir,
+I have passed through a similar experience. There are times when my
+human feelings, my human reason leave me." The mulatto's yellow face
+seemed to grow livid in the twilight.
+
+The wind moaned wildly, and the clouds gathered in thick, rolling masses
+in the northwest.
+
+"Have you any further business with me?" asked the planter uneasily.
+
+"I am to tell you that I hold a key that will unlock one of the darkest
+secrets that has clouded your life, a secret that has ever been a puzzle
+and a torment to you. This dark war cloud will not roll off our land
+without sweeping many from the face of the earth, and I feel that I
+shall be among the number. I can not leave this earth without yielding
+up to you the key of this mystery."
+
+"Where is the key, and what is the mystery?" asked Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"I will arrange so that you shall receive the key after my death. The
+secret relates to the parentage of your foster child."
+
+A loud clap of thunder shook, and, for one moment, a blaze of lightning
+enwrapped the earth. When Mr. Tompkins lifted his dazzled eyes, he was
+alone. The strange man had disappeared as suddenly as if he had melted
+into air.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+IRENE'S DILEMMA--THE BROTHERS MEET.
+
+
+To Irene the varied and startling changes that had lately taken place,
+brought perplexity and grief. The political question, that she had heard
+discussed since her early childhood, until it had become to her as
+familiar as a household pet, and been deemed as harmless, had broken up
+the family, and now bade fair to destroy the Nation. Often in her
+childish innocence had she laughed to hear little Abner declare himself
+"Papa's Whig," little dreaming of the awful meaning lurking in these
+words, a meaning powerful for the destruction of homes and country.
+
+A monster had been taken into the Tompkins' family and laughed over and
+caressed, and now it had arisen in its wrath to prove their destroyer.
+That monster was difference of political opinion. Irene, with her clear
+good senses saw the great mistake in the life of her foster parents.
+Their difference of opinion, kept alive by frequent discussion, and
+veiled by light and gentle jests, had at last thrown off all disguises,
+and stood forth a frightful reality, widening with alarming rapidity the
+chasm opened between them. It may be doubted, if it is safe for husband
+and wife to differ even in jest.
+
+Irene had puzzled her brain in her endeavor to devise some plan, which
+might restore to the family the happy harmony of old, but, like many
+good men whose minds were engrossed with the same endeavor for the
+country's good, she failed.
+
+The regiment of which Abner Tompkins was a member had returned to the
+Junction, and the regiment which Colonel Scrabble commanded was again in
+the neighborhood of Snagtown. Both Abner and Oleah had sent word to
+their parents that they would probably be able to visit home, while
+their companies were encamped in the neighborhood.
+
+Colonel Scrabble, finding his position in the vicinity of Snagtown
+rather uncomfortably near the Junction, where Colonel Holdfast and two
+other regiments were quartered, fell back about twenty miles south,
+beyond the Twin Mountains. The good people about Snagtown felt greatly
+relieved at the departure of the colonel's forces, for they had been
+kept in a constant state of alarm, expecting battle every day.
+
+It was the third day after the retirement of the Confederates that a
+single horseman, a cavalry officer, galloped down the long hill on the
+road leading from Snagtown to Mr. Tompkins' residence. He was a fearless
+looking young fellow, with blue eyes and dark brown hair, and he rode
+alone, though he wore the blue uniform of a Union captain.
+
+Arriving at the front gate, he swung from the saddle, handing his reins
+to a negro boy, and walked quickly up the front walk, meeting his father
+on the lawn.
+
+"Quite safe and sound, you see," he said in reply to Mr. Tompkins'
+eager, anxious eyes.
+
+Father and son went together to the house, and, at the sound of the
+well-known voice, Mrs. Tompkins, with a cry of joy, rushed from her room
+to clasp her son in her arms. What though he wore the hated uniform of a
+Union soldier? He was still her son.
+
+Irene's cheeks glowed with pleasure at sight of Abner, whom she had so
+long believed to be her brother. She gave him a sister's welcome, as it
+was.
+
+During the evening, when alone with his father, Abner related the
+mysterious appearance and disappearance of Yellow Steve, and his strange
+words. Mr. Tompkins also had something singular to relate on that
+subject, and for half an hour they discussed this strange individual and
+his possible connection with Irene's history.
+
+"He says he holds the key, which will unlock the mystery of her
+parentage," said Mr. Tompkins, "but how are we to get him to turn it?"
+
+Abner said he would make it one of the duties of his life to search out
+this mysterious stranger.
+
+"It will have to be managed carefully," said the father, "for should he
+be so inclined, this man, perhaps, might destroy the last trace of her
+parentage. My impression is that it was he who placed her, when a baby,
+at our door."
+
+"What could have been his motive?" asked Abner.
+
+"Motive? Any one of a thousand things might have been his motive. He
+might have done it with the hope of securing a reward for the recovery
+of the child, or he may thus have taken revenge for some real or fancied
+wrong, or he may have been hired by the parents."
+
+"Come, Irene," said the young officer when tea was over. "I want to look
+around the old place once more."
+
+They paused in the garden, where the air was sweet with the fragrance of
+Summer flowers, and pulsating with the evening songs of birds.
+
+"I never come out here now," said Irene. "It is so lonesome with you and
+Oleah so far away," and sat down upon a rustic seat.
+
+As Abner gazed into the depths of those soft, gray eyes he thought so
+much beauty had never before been concentrated in one being. Irene's
+goodness of heart he had learned to know long ago. He was he thought,
+almost on the eve of discovering her parentage, but he determined to win
+her, be it high or low.
+
+"Irene," he said, "I am glad to be once more in this dear old home, to
+be once more with the parents I love; but the greatest happiness of all
+is to have you again by my side."
+
+"O Abner," she answered, lifting her earnest, tearful eyes, "do not say
+to me again what you said to me that last night! It breaks my heart to
+give you pain, but I know that you are wrong, that you have mistaken
+your own feelings. I have loved you so long as a sister! Oh, how
+terribly all things have changed! Do not you change, Abner! Be my
+brother still!"
+
+
+     "Let what is broken so remain,
+     The gods are hard to reconcile,"
+
+
+said Abner, looking sorrowfully into the pale, pleading face. "When
+change has come, nothing can bring back the old order of things. But I
+will wait, I will promise you not to speak again of my love, until you
+can answer me without tears in your eyes. Now, let me see you smile,
+Irene, once more before I go."
+
+Irene could not sleep that night; her bed chamber was in the south wing
+of the house, and her window looked out upon a portion of the grounds
+directly shaded with trees and shrubbery. It was late when voices on the
+lawn below attracted her attention. The family, she knew, had been
+buried in sleep for hours, and it was something unusual for the slaves
+to select that portion of the grounds for midnight consultation. At last
+she arose and cautiously approached the window.
+
+The night was beautiful, the moon shone brightly, even penetrating the
+dark shade of the trees, beneath one of which two figures were
+distinctly visible. The night was very still, and, though the men were
+at some distance from the house, she could hear distinctly every word
+they spoke.
+
+The voice of one sounded familiar to Irene, and it took only a second
+glance to show her that it was Crazy Joe, engaged in conversation with
+some stranger.
+
+Crazy Joe had always made a strange impression on Irene. From her
+earliest recollection he had been either a resident or frequenter of the
+Tompkins' plantation. The poor lunatic had always shown the warmest
+attachment for her, and his strange wild talk, the mingling of early
+Scriptural and classical lessons, with ideas dwarfed by some sudden
+shock, had always had a strange fascination for her.
+
+All her fear instantly vanished as she recognized Crazy Joe, for she
+knew that no harm could ever come to any one of them through him, but
+her curiosity to know who was his companion and what their topic of
+conversation, became almost painful in its intensity.
+
+Crazy Joe had of late divided his time between the plantation and the
+cabin at the foot of Twin Mountains. Uncle Dan, when he entered the
+army, tried to induce Joe to desert the place altogether, but this he
+refused to do, always declaring he must have the house of his Uncle Esau
+ready at his coming.
+
+Irene could discover that Joe's companion was a negro, a man past the
+middle age of life, of strong frame and strongly marked features. It was
+with a thrill of astonishment that she heard these words.
+
+"When do you remember seeing your father last?"
+
+"'Twas when my father dwelt in a distant land. I was much beloved of my
+father, for I was the sun of his old age."
+
+"Oh, don't talk such nonsense! What was your father's name?"
+
+"Jacob, my father was Jacob, the son of Isaac."
+
+"No, he wasn't," replied the man. "Try and think if your father didn't
+have another name than Jacob."
+
+The poor fellow for a moment puzzled his brain and then said slowly:
+
+"No, it could not be otherwise. Joseph was the son of Jacob, and Jacob
+the son of Isaac, and Isaac the son of Abraham; so you see my father
+must have been Jacob. Joseph was sold into bondage and carried into
+Egypt, and I am Joseph, so my father must have been Jacob."
+
+"Can't you recollect that your father had another name?"
+
+"No, he never had any other name but Jacob, the son of Isaac."
+
+"Your father's name was Henry," said the man. "Now don't you remember
+that his Christian name was Henry?"
+
+The moonlight fell full on Joe's troubled face, and Irene thought she
+could discover a strange expression cross it, as though a stream of
+memory's sunshine had suddenly been let in on his long clouded mind, but
+a moment after it was passed, and he said:
+
+"No, it must have been Jacob, and if Jacob is not my father, my father
+must be dead. The famine has been very sore in the land of Canaan."
+
+"There has been no famine in the land where your father dwells," said
+the man, earnestly. "Your father never knew a famine, never knew want or
+care. He was a reckless, passionate man, but at times he was gentle and
+kind."
+
+"My father, Jacob, was always good and kind," said Joe, thoughtfully.
+
+"Your father's name was not Jacob," said the man, evidently annoyed and
+puzzled. "Your father's name was Henry--" Irene listened with strained
+attention to hear the last name, but the voice of the speaker was
+lowered, so that she failed to catch it. "Now," went on the stranger,
+"try and remember, while I tell you about your father and your home.
+Your father was a handsome man, with dark hair and eyes and heavy jet
+black whiskers. Do you not remember the home of your childhood--a large,
+brown stone mansion, surrounded with palmetto trees, and orange groves,
+and cane brakes? Do you not remember the vast fields of cotton and rice
+and sugar-cane, with negroes working in them, and your father riding
+about in his carriage with you by his side? Can't you remember your
+mother? Can't you remember the tiny boats she made for you to float on
+the lake?"
+
+The mulatto paused, and looked eagerly at his companion, as though to
+catch a gleam of intelligence. Again that curious, puzzled look came
+over the face of Joe, and he seemed trying to pierce the gloom of
+forgetfulness with his blunted recollection. After a moment his face
+brightened, and he said:
+
+"Yes, I remember the fields of cotton, and the carriage and my mother. I
+remember the great palmetto tree by the lake, where I floated my boats
+and made my flutter-mills."
+
+"Well, listen now," said the black, still more earnestly. "Can you not
+remember what your name was when you played by the lake under the big
+palmetto tree by the lake?"
+
+"I was not Joseph then."
+
+"Can you not remember what your name was?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Would you remember if I was to tell you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Irene was leaning against the window-sill, holding the half-closed
+shutter in her hand. In her eagerness she pressed forward, pushing the
+shutter so far open that it slipped from her hold and swung crashing
+back against the house. She sprang back into the room to prevent
+discovery, and when next she glanced from her window, Crazy Joe was
+alone. His strange companion had disappeared, and Joe sat nodding under
+the tree more than half asleep.
+
+It was nothing uncommon for Joe to pass the night under a tree, and
+Irene only watched to see him stretch down under a tree and compose
+himself to sleep, when she crept to her own bed, filled with wonder and
+curiosity. Crazy Joe's parentage, like her own, was shrouded in mystery,
+and perhaps it may have been their common misfortune that had awakened
+her sympathy and drawn her so strongly towards the lunatic.
+
+It was late before Irene closed her eyes for sleep, and when she did,
+Joe's troubled eyes, Abner's eyes, sad and reproachful, and the gleaming
+eyes of the stranger haunted her dreams.
+
+Early next morning she went out to where Crazy Joe was sitting on the
+grass, communing with himself. As she approached him she heard him say:
+
+"Yes, yes, I remember the cotton fields and the palmetto tree by the
+lake, the boats I sailed there, but then something heavy strikes my
+brain."
+
+She tried to persuade him to tell her who it was he was talking with on
+the night before, but the light of memory faded from his face, and his
+mind immediately averted to his father Jacob, who was soon to come down
+into Egypt.
+
+It was about two weeks after Abner's visit that Oleah found himself at
+the head of a small scouting party in the neighborhood of his home.
+
+Scouting parties were no novelty in and near the village of Snagtown,
+for this village lay about half way between the two hostile forces, and
+the scouts of both armies frequently entered it. These parties, not
+always made up of the most honorable men, kept the good citizens in the
+vicinity in a constant state of alarm. Hen roosts were robbed, apple
+orchards devastated, and melon patches stripped, vines and all.
+
+Oleah's party, however, attempted no exploits of this kind, for his men
+knew that he would regard it as base and dastardly an act to filch from
+an unoffending citizen as to fly from an enemy.
+
+Our friend Diggs was of the party, and when Oleah stationed his men in a
+grove, about a mile distant, and set out to visit his home, Mr. Diggs
+volunteered to accompany him. Oleah was annoyed, but, having no good
+excuse for refusal, submitted with what grace he could to the
+infliction. The short-legged soldier was now all smiles and
+satisfaction, being, in his own estimation, the favored of his captain.
+
+"I tell you--hem, hem, hem!" said Diggs, as he kicked his heels into the
+flanks of his horse--not January, but a spiteful little mustang--to keep
+up with the fierce black charger on which the captain was mounted. "I
+tell you--hem, hem!--this reminds me more of the return of the knights
+of old after a battle, or a crusade, than any thing in my experience."
+
+Diggs' conversation was not noted for brilliancy or point, but Oleah
+thought he never knew him to be so flat and pointless as on this
+occasion.
+
+"I can't for the life of me, Diggs," he said, "see that we bear any
+possible likeness to knights or crusaders."
+
+"Why, you see, they left their homes, and so did we. We are alike
+there."
+
+Oleah made no answer. He was probably convinced.
+
+Mr. Diggs went on triumphantly:
+
+"They went off to fight, so did we; they came back clothed with victory
+and glory, so did we."
+
+"I doubt whether either of us have achieved any victory to be boasted
+of. As to the glory, I lay claim to none, and you must have little,
+unless you acquired it in creek bottoms or turkey roosts."
+
+It was Mr. Diggs' turn to be silent now. His face became almost livid
+with momentary rage, and the ill-assorted companions road on without
+speaking, until the Tompkins' mansion was reached.
+
+The second son, in Confederate gray, was as gladly welcomed by his
+father as Abner in his loyal blue, while in the mother's eyes shone not
+only a mother's tender love, but the proud patriotism of a woman, who
+had given her son to the cause she believed holy and just.
+
+"And here is friend Diggs, too," said the planter, taking the hand of
+the little Confederate with such cordiality that Mr. Diggs was in
+ecstasies of delight. "Have you been well?"
+
+"Quite well, Mr. Tompkins--hem, hem!--have been quite well, except a few
+gun-shot wounds, received at Carrick's Ford. Hem, hem, hem!"
+
+Mrs. Tompkins, too, welcomed him with gracious hospitality, and, when
+Irene met him with friendly greeting, he felt more than rejoiced, that
+he had not given up a soldier's life. He had fought his battles and was
+now winning his just reward, and "sweet the treasure, sweet the
+pleasure, sweet the pleasure after pain."
+
+"Hem, hem, hem!--my friends--hem, hem!--my dear friends, he, he, he!"
+chuckled the little fellow, looking as silly as it was possible for a
+man of his size, with glasses on, to look; "this gives me--hem,
+hem!--unbounded, I may say unlimited, satisfaction."
+
+At this moment another character entered on the scene. It was Crazy Joe;
+he paused a moment, and a look of recognition lit up his features. He
+walked forward, and, placing his hand on Diggs' shoulder, angrily
+demanded:
+
+"Why are you here, sir? Why did you not remain where I left you? When I
+make a man out of clay, and stand him up, I want him to stay where I
+leave him, until I can show people the greatness of my handiwork."
+
+It was impossible for those present to restrain their involuntary
+smiles, and Diggs, seeing this, lost his temper.
+
+"Go away, fool," he cried; "take off your hands."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Diggs, that is very unkind," said Irene.
+
+"Yes," said Crazy Joe, sorrowfully, as he left the room, "it is very
+unkind for him to address such language to the man who made him."
+
+In spite of themselves, those present could hardly restrain their
+laughter; but Mr. Diggs was easily pacified, and harmony was soon
+restored, and he related his hair-breadth escapes and miraculous
+victories.
+
+Oleah had interesting adventures to relate, and the humorous mishaps of
+our friend Mr. Diggs, brought out the long unheard-of music of Irene's
+laughter. During the evening he told his father of his meeting of Yellow
+Steve at Mrs. Juniper's ball.
+
+"Strange," said the father, "that he should have escaped us all. He
+knows something of Irene's history." Then he told Oleah what he himself
+had seen, and what Abner had told him of Yellow Steve's visit, the
+evening before the battle of Bull Run.
+
+"I will fathom this mystery," exclaimed Oleah, "though it takes a
+lifetime to do it. He shall reveal all he knows, the next time we meet,
+if he does it at the point of my sword."
+
+"Be not too rash, my son," said the father. "Never frighten a bird you
+wish to catch."
+
+Then his mother and Irene came in, and with a loving imperiousness, as
+his brother had done, he made Irene come out with him, walked through
+the same paths and sat down at last on the same seat, with the same
+words trembling on his lips.
+
+The sun had gone down, the moon was rising round and full in the East,
+and the whip-poor-wills were making night melodious with their song.
+Oleah was talking very earnestly to his fair companion; not only
+earnestly, but passionately.
+
+"Irene, you comprehend what I told you before I left my home to meet
+death and danger in the field, that the love I felt for you was deeper
+and stronger than a brother's. I love you--I love you more than all else
+on earth, more than life, and nothing shall keep you from me. You shall
+be mine--my wife."
+
+"Oleah, believe me, let us keep the old love--I can give you no other. I
+can not give you what you want." Her voice died away. He saw the small,
+white fingers clasping and unclasping, and knew that she was resolutely
+keeping back her tears.
+
+"This is something I can not understand," said Oleah, and his face
+clouded, "unless my brother has been before me."
+
+Irene opened her white lips, but no words came.
+
+"I understand now," exclaimed Oleah; "you can not choose between us; you
+know not which of us you prefer, or perhaps you prefer him." His eyes
+shone like burning coals, and his voice was hoarse with passion. "It is
+true, he must oppose me in every thing? When our country, our South, his
+birthplace and mine, is assailed by foes, he joins them. Is not that
+enough to turn all a brother's love to gall and bitterness? And now he
+would win you from me--my love, my love!"
+
+"Oleah, do not so wrong your brother! I tell you truly that he does not
+know, he has no thought that he is opposing you," cried Irene, with an
+appealing look at the dark, angry face. "O, Oleah, for your mother's
+sake banish these evil thoughts. God made you brothers."
+
+"Yes, and the devil made us enemies. It is coming at last--it has come!
+I have fought against it for the sake of our happy childhood, our
+parents, and the brothers' blood that flows in our veins, but it is
+useless. The fates have determined that we should hate each other, and
+the hatred of brothers is the hatred of devils. Irene," his voice
+softening, "I believe you love me though you will not speak," and Oleah
+seized her passionately in his embrace and rained kisses on her fair,
+pale face. "I must go now," he said, releasing her, "but you shall yet
+be mine, I swear it. Neither brother, nor father, nor mother, no power
+on earth shall prevent it."
+
+Oleah went toward the house, and Irene stood motionless, where he had
+left her, till the trees hid him from her sight--her eyes widely
+strained, her face pale with terror, her lips white and bloodless. Those
+wild words Oleah had spoken in his passion, those fearful words, "_The
+hatred of brothers is the hatred of devils_," seemed burning into her
+brain.
+
+And this was her work! This mischief she had done! She trembled like one
+guilty, and the love she would not own, and she could not master, seemed
+to her shuddering soul a crime.
+
+So excited was her manner that it attracted the attention of others in
+the room. At this moment a negro boy entered the room, where Mr. and
+Mrs. Tompkins were sitting with Mr. Diggs, his face wearing a strangely
+puzzled look. He paused and looked around. Whether he was more
+frightened or puzzled it would have been difficult to tell.
+
+"Well, Job, what is it?" asked Mr. Tompkins, noticing the negro's
+awkward manner.
+
+"If you please, marster," he said, shaking his head, "Marster Abner--"
+
+"What of him?" asked Mr. Tompkins, for the boy had paused.
+
+"Why, he--he is comin'?"
+
+Before any one could make reply, quick steps were heard on the graveled
+walk. Mr. Tompkins, motioning the servant aside, went himself to the
+door, and, as he opened it, heard Oleah's voice, imperious and harsh:
+
+"You are my prisoner, sir!"
+
+"Oleah, my son, this is a matter too serious for jesting," said the
+father.
+
+"I am not jesting. My first duty is to my country. He is an enemy to my
+country, and my country's enemies are mine. My men are within call," he
+continued, turning to Abner. "Do you surrender?"
+
+"Most assuredly I shall not," replied Abner.
+
+"Then, by heavens! you shall fare no better than any other Yankee spy.
+You are within our lines!"
+
+He snatched his sword from its scabbard, and before Mr. Tompkins could
+interpose, there was a clash.
+
+Again the door opened, and Mrs. Tompkins and Mr. Diggs appeared; but
+the sight that met their eyes froze to terror the smile of welcome on
+the mother's lips, and sent Diggs, his radiant complacency all gone,
+shrinking back into the house, muttering, "Oh, Lordy, I know I shall be
+killed."
+
+Clash, clash! clank, clank! the swords went, circling in the air,
+thrusting, crossing, clashing. Irene came flying down the path, and Mr.
+Tompkins sprang between and threw them apart.
+
+"Hold!" he cried, "if you must have kindred blood, turn your swords
+first on me, and on your mother and sister. Abner, if your enemies are
+near, go. Let them not find you in your own father's house. Go at once!"
+
+Without a word, Abner returned his sword to its scabbard and started to
+leave his home. His mother and Irene followed him to the gate, and, a
+moment later, his horse's feet were heard clattering up the hill toward
+Snagtown.
+
+Oleah, soon after, left with Diggs, to join his men. Mr. Tompkins and
+his wife sat in silence in the silent house, while Irene, who believed
+herself the guilty cause of this new sorrow, crept up to her room to
+weep and pray.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+WAR IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD.
+
+
+It was a Sabbath morning in the latter part of October, clear and
+frosty. The sun had risen in a cloudless sky, the wind blew northward in
+rolling columns, the smoke from the village chimneys, and the leaves on
+the magnificent forest trees, which surrounded the village on the north,
+east, and south, had grown brown and sear, but the great plantations of
+the level valley on the west were still verdant. While on the west,
+faintly outlined in the distance, rose the Cumberland mountains.
+
+An old man, with a basket on his arm, was walking down the broad
+sidewalk past the cottages, from which came the fragrant odor of
+coffee, a sure indication that breakfast was preparing. The old man
+chanced to cast his eyes towards the eastern part of the town, and
+paused in amazement.
+
+In a field of about twenty acres, as if they had risen by magic, were
+scores of snowy tents. Sentries were on duty, their burnished arms
+glittering in the sun, and hundreds of gray-coated soldiers were passing
+and repassing, white clouds of smoke from their camp-fires rose in the
+frosty air.
+
+While the old man was looking beyond the streets and houses at the
+encampment on the hill, a neighbor, walking up the other side of the
+street, hailed him with:
+
+"Rather sudden appearance ain't it?" pointing to the camp, over which
+the Confederate flag was floating.
+
+"When did they come, Mr. Williams?" said the first old man.
+
+"Last night," replied Mr. Williams, crossing over to where the other
+stood. "Can't you guess what's in the wind?"
+
+"No," was the answer.
+
+Mr. Williams, a corpulent, smooth-faced man of sixty, smiled.
+
+"Why, you see, the boys are strong enough now to take the Junction, and
+they are on their way."
+
+"How many are they?" asked the first old man, who was tall and thin,
+with long, gray beard. He spoke evidently with some concern.
+
+"About three thousand in all, with five pieces of artillery."
+
+The cannon and the ammunition wagons were plainly to be seen from the
+street.
+
+"And so they are on their way to fight the Abolitionists at the
+Junction?" said the first old man thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Jones, and your son, Hiram, is in that crowd and my son, Seth.
+They'll make it quite lively for old Colonel Holdfast," replied Mr.
+Williams.
+
+"Yes, they will," said Mr. Jones, stroking his gray beard.
+
+The sun rose higher in the heavens, and the frosty air grew warm and
+genial. By nine o'clock the forces were in motion, the long lines of
+cavalry and infantry proceeding slowly and cautiously towards the
+Junction.
+
+The good citizens of Snagtown had recovered from the excitement, into
+which the appearance of the troops had thrown them, and the church bells
+were calling them to worship, when the boom of the cannon shook the
+hills.
+
+All was instant excitement. The cannon shot came from the direction in
+which the troops had gone. It was followed by another and another, until
+the roar of artillery shook the hills and valleys for miles around, and
+then the rattle of grape and canister was borne to the ears of the
+villagers. Plainly a fight was going on. The firing lasted about half an
+hour, then it began to slacken, and at last, ceased, excepting an
+occasional dropping musket shot.
+
+The villagers were gathered about in anxious groups, when a single
+horseman, dressed in gray, galloped furiously into the village. The men
+crowded eagerly about him to inquire how the battle had gone.
+
+"There had been no battle," he said, "but their advance guard had met
+the advance guard of the Union troops, and a skirmish had ensued, a
+battery on either side having opened.
+
+"We are falling back to more advantageous ground," he added, "and will
+be in the village in fifteen minutes."
+
+The excitement, of course, redoubled. There was no service in the
+church, but the women and children were hurried away from the village,
+and the stern-faced who remained, locked and barred their homes and
+gathered, armed and resolute, in the streets. Stragglers from the army
+came in first, then followed the infantry and artillery. There was a
+long embankment on the north side of the village, where the earth had
+been partly washed and partly cut away. This embankment was nearly as
+high as a man's breast, and a fence ran along its top for a quarter of a
+mile to the east of the village. Behind this natural fortification the
+principal part of the infantry formed in lines. The artillery was placed
+in an orchard, where there was a dense growth of trees to mask it.
+
+The advance of the Union forces came on slowly, and it was an hour after
+the entrance of the Confederates into the village before the deployed
+skirmishers came in sight. The crack of a rifle announced their
+approach, another and another burst on the air at once, and then the
+balls came rattling rapidly against the houses.
+
+The engagement became general, and the roar of artillery and the rattle
+of musketry was deafening. The Sabbath morning, dawning so serene and
+calm, had been followed by a noon of bloodshed, terror and strife. The
+neat village cottages were shattered and balls had crashed through
+window lights and shutters. The little stone church had been struck by
+cannon shot and shell, and one building had caught fire and burned to
+the ground.
+
+Finally the Confederate lines began to waver and give way, and the bugle
+sounded the retreat. They fell back, column behind column, in regular
+order, passing through the village, closely followed by the victorious
+troops.
+
+No sooner had the last column left the village than the frightened
+inhabitants, who had been hiding in the woods at some distance away,
+began to peep forth upon the terrible scene.
+
+Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith, returning, found occasionally, here and there,
+in the street a ghastly form. A man lay dead at the gate of Mr. Jones;
+some were even in the houses, while one was lying across the sidewalk in
+front of the church. Their houses had been struck with balls, but not
+near so badly shattered as might have been expected. Two or three cannon
+balls were lying in the street and fragments of exploded shells strewn
+on the ground.
+
+The occasional dropping shots in the distance told that both armies were
+moving. Colonel Holdfast seemed determined to hold fast to Colonel
+Scramble this time.
+
+The struggle we have described in this chapter is not recorded by most
+historians, and, if mentioned at all, is only considered a skirmish, yet
+the citizens of Snagtown thought it the most terrible battle of the war.
+
+No one of the Tompkins family had left their home. During the night
+Irene had been awakened by the rumble of wheels and the tramp of hoofs,
+and, looking from her bedroom window down the broad road, saw long lines
+of dark, silent figures marching in the direction of Snagtown. For more
+than an hour those silent dark figures, with their bristling bayonets
+glittering in the cold moonlight, marched on and on past her window in
+seemingly never-ending procession--horsemen, artillery and baggage
+wagons rolling by. Then the line was less solid and finally broken--an
+occasional group galloping by to join the army in advance. When daylight
+came not a soldier was to be seen on the hard beaten road.
+
+Irene knew well what was the intention of the Confederates. She had
+recognized one form among those hosts that marched by in the moonlight,
+and, at sight of him, had crouched by in the window recess with a
+strange pain at her heart.
+
+The whole family was aroused by the passing troops, and all rightly
+guessed their object. Through the long morning they sat watching on the
+veranda, Irene, pale and beautiful, leaning against one of the columns
+of the great porch running about the northeast side of the house, heard
+the first roar of the artillery, that ushered in the day's strife, and,
+during the long two hours that the battle raged, she stood motionless,
+except that her white lips moved in silent prayer. She saw the advance
+of the column in rapid retreat coming down the great road from Snagtown.
+
+"Defeated!" she murmured. "O, Heaven, is he among the dead? Both may be
+slain!"
+
+Little did she dream how close were the pursuers. One vast retreating
+mass of troops in gray poured down the hill, and, among the last of the
+Confederates, she saw the dark face of Oleah. His company was the last
+to descend the hill, and the rear was not half way from the summit when
+a line of blue coats appeared on the brow of the hill and quickly fell
+in line.
+
+White puffs of smoke filled the air, and a rattling discharge of
+fire-arms followed.
+
+Irene, forgetful of danger or too horrified to fly, stood motionless as
+a statue. She saw one or two of Oleah's company fall, and saw their
+captain wheel his horse and dash back among his panic-stricken troops.
+He reformed them almost instantly and returned the volley, driving back
+the advance of the Union troops, who immediately rallied and came on
+again to the conflict.
+
+"Come, Irene, come in for Heaven's sake! You may be struck dead at any
+moment," cried Mrs. Tompkins, seizing the poor girl around the waist.
+"Come, come to the cellar; it is the only safe place."
+
+"But, mother, see, he, they both, are there, in danger of being killed.
+I can not go until I see him safe."
+
+But Mrs. Tompkins drew her away from the porch.
+
+Contrary to the expectations of Mr. Tompkins and of the whole family,
+the house was not used as a fortification, and a running fight followed;
+then the bulk of the Union army swept on down the road in pursuit of the
+retreating Confederates.
+
+Irene hastened from the house down the driveway. A dead horse lay on the
+hill, and two soldiers, one in blue and one in gray, lay motionless in
+the road, but their forms were stark and stiff, no earthly aid could
+reach them. As she turned away she heard a groan, and, hastening to the
+spot, she saw lying in a little hazel copse, which had before concealed
+him from her view, a Confederate soldier with a shattered leg, almost
+unconscious from loss of blood. One glance, and Irene recognized those
+pale haggard features. It was Henry Smith. She saw that he was badly
+wounded and flew back to the house for help.
+
+The troops under Colonel Holdfast followed up the Confederates closely,
+harrassing them by repeated dashes on their rear guard, thus keeping up
+a continual skirmish. It so happened that Captain Abner Tompkins
+commanded the advance of Colonel Holdfast, while Captain Oleah Tompkins
+the rear guard of Colonel Scrabble. The men, under each, were from the
+immediate neighborhood of Snagtown, and, consequently, many in these
+hostile ranks were former acquaintances or friends. As the advance under
+Abner was approaching a farm-house, he threw out skirmishers, among whom
+was one Jim Moore, who had formerly lived in Snagtown. The house stood
+back from the road, surrounded by giant oaks, and the skirmishers,
+fifteen in number, led by Sergeant Swords, approached slowly and
+cautiously, warned by the crack of rifles behind the trees. The trees
+being plenty, each man concealed himself behind one of them, they
+commenced an Indian warfare. Jim Moore, who was behind a large oak, had
+been watching his chance to get a shot at a Confederate, behind a
+similar tree, about one hundred yards away. The Confederate was watching
+Jim the same time.
+
+"I say," called out Jim, during a lull in the attack, "give a fellow a
+chance for a pop."
+
+The Confederate thrust out his head for a brief second, and Jim blazed
+away; the bullet passed two inches over the reckless head.
+
+"Too high!" cried the Confederate; now give me a chance.
+
+Jim, not to be outdone, thrust out his head and shoulders, and a ball
+whizzed beneath his arm.
+
+"Too low!" he cried; "but now, I'll bet a quart o' whiskey you and I
+have shot together before."
+
+"Your voice is familiar," answered the man, reloading. "Who are you, any
+way?"
+
+"Jim Moore, from Snagtown, and, if I aint mistaken, you are Seth
+Williams?"
+
+"Right, old boy. We've shot ducks together many a time. How d'ye do?"
+
+"Pretty well," said Jim. "How are yerself and all the rest of the boys?"
+
+"Excellent. What are you fellows following us for?"
+
+"To keep you out o' mischief."
+
+"How many you got?"
+
+"Not quite seventy thousand."
+
+"You're lying, Jim."
+
+"Well, I'll take that from an old friend, Seth, but don't repeat it too
+often, or I'll come over there and thrash you."
+
+This dialogue attracted the attention of all the skirmishers, and not a
+shot for the last two minutes had been fired.
+
+Re-inforcements now came up to the aid of the Union skirmishers, and the
+Confederates retired through the farmyard and across the pasture, into
+the woods beyond. A cackling and a squalling of hens told that they had
+made a raid, in passing, on the barn-yard fowls.
+
+The Union soldiers ran forward and fired at the retreating rebels. The
+only reply was a chorus of voices, singing "Chich-a-my, chick-a-my,
+crany crow," followed by reckless yells and peals of laughter.
+
+In the hurry and confusion of the pursuit, Abner became separated from
+his company, and eager to rejoin it, dashed down a woodland path. Both
+forces were now between Snagtown and Twin Mountains, in the forest,
+which spread out for miles on either side of Wolf and Briar creeks, and
+the constant popping of guns told that the sharpshooters were at work.
+Not a human being was to be seen on the forest path Captain Tompkins had
+taken, but he could hear shooting on all sides. Suddenly he came upon a
+man standing by the side of a dead horse. In his headlong gallop, Abner
+would have run over him, had not the man seized the former's horse by
+the bit with an iron grasp and hurled it on its haunches.
+
+A glance told Abner that it was a Confederate officer, and that he held
+a naked sword in his hand. In an instant he had drawn his own weapon and
+leaped from the saddle, to discover that he was confronted by his
+brother.
+
+"So, we meet again," cried Oleah, his eyes flashing fire. "You are my
+prisoner, sir."
+
+"Release my horse, and remember that we are brothers," returning his
+sword to its scabbard. "We shall find other foes to fight. Loose my
+horse and go."
+
+"When I go you will go a prisoner with me. Brothers!" exclaimed Oleah,
+sneeringly. "In all things you oppose me. You are joined now with my
+enemies, fighting to rob me of country and home; you have tried to take
+from me more than my life--why not my life? Defend yourself."
+
+Again the brothers' blades clashed together, but a tall, powerful form
+sprang from the thicket into the road and hurled them apart, as though
+they were children.
+
+"Brothers seeking each other's blood?" cried the new comer in a ringing
+voice. "Shame! oh, shame! There are enemies enough for both your swords
+without drawing them on each other."
+
+The new comer was the mysterious negro, Yellow Steve.
+
+"I know you," cried Oleah; "you have something to tell me--"
+
+"But it is not to slay your brother," interrupted Yellow Steve. "Shame
+on you both! Put up your swords, lest I take them from you and break
+them on my knee. You, Oleah, go, and go quickly. Your enemies are all
+around you."
+
+"Hilloa!" cried another voice, "what does all this mean?" and Uncle Dan
+Martin, the scout, stepped out of the woods, with his rifle, ready
+cocked, in his hand.
+
+Oleah, hearing others advancing, sprang into the bushes and made good
+his escape. Abner looked after him for a single moment, and when he
+turned to speak to Yellow Steve, that mysterious person had disappeared.
+
+"Who was them uns?" asked Uncle Dan, hastening forward to where his
+bewildered captain stood.
+
+"One was my brother Oleah, the other was that strange negro, who calls
+himself Yellow Steve."
+
+"Where did he go?" asked the scout.
+
+"I don't know," answered Abner. "His ways of appearing and disappearing
+are quite beyond my comprehension."
+
+"I'll catch him," replied Uncle Dan. "I know the tricks of the fox and
+mink, and others, and I'll set a trap, which will get him yet."
+
+"Will you?" cried a mocking voice some distance up the path, and looking
+up, they saw the mysterious black, standing by the trunk of a tree his
+arms folded on his breast, a look of defiance in his gleaming eyes.
+Almost simultaneously with the discovery came the crack of Uncle Dan's
+rifle. When the smoke had cleared away the black had again disappeared.
+
+The place all about was searched, but no trace of him could be found.
+
+"I believe he is the devil," said Uncle Dan. "I never missed a
+squirrel's head at that distance in my life."
+
+"He is certainly a very extraordinary person," said Abner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+CRAZY JOE'S MISTAKE.
+
+
+Uncle Dan had long prided himself on his skill in woodcraft, and, to be
+thus outwitted in his old days, was more than he could endure. He
+plunged recklessly into the brush, which was so dense that no object
+could be seen a dozen feet away. He ran several narrow risks, coming two
+or three times almost into the rebel lines.
+
+"To think that a nigger should get ahead of me that way! It's too much!"
+exclaimed the old man, as he leaned against a tree, and listened to the
+occasional shots which awoke the echoes of the forest. "But what do I
+want with him, if I should catch him? My business is to lead the army
+through the woods, and not to be following a strange nigger up and
+down."
+
+A crushing in the underbrush told him that some one was advancing, and,
+a moment later, Corporal Grimm and Sergeant Swords with half a dozen
+soldiers came up to where the old man stood.
+
+"Hilloa, old boy!" said Sergeant Swords. "Pausin' to view the land
+ahead?"
+
+"No, I've been trying to git a pop at a nigger," replied Uncle Dan.
+
+"What are niggers doing here?" said Corporal Grimm. "When dogs fight for
+a bone, the bone seldom fights."
+
+"The bone is in these woods, but I'll be hanged if I know what it's here
+for. Let's be moving on."
+
+"D'ye know the lay of the land?" asked Sergeant Swords.
+
+"Every foot," said Uncle Dan.
+
+The long line of Union skirmishers was moving slowly through the thick
+woods, and the line of Confederate skirmishers was retreating at the
+same pace to cover the rear of their army. The crack of rifles rang out
+frequently, but it was seldom with effect. It was evident that the
+Confederates were making for their stronghold beyond the Twin Mountains.
+The line of their retreat led by the foot of the mountains, where stood
+Uncle Dan's cabin.
+
+With some anxiety Uncle Dan watched the movements of the retreating mass
+of soldiers. Among them was one short fat little fellow on foot, whose
+legs were too short to ably execute his prodigious exertions to keep
+pace with his companions; his little gray coat-tails were streaming in
+the air or whipping wildly against the trees. The officers, who were in
+the advance, amused themselves by popping away at the fleeing rebel with
+their revolvers. Still he flitted on among the trees, into the brush,
+out of the brush, over the logs, and under the lower branches of the
+trees, straining every nerve to keep up with his swifter companions. The
+soldiers were gaining on him rapidly, and it was painfully evident,
+that, when he reached open ground, one of these many loaded guns must
+bring him down. His companions, who were several rods in advance,
+suddenly turned abruptly to the left, which he, evidently too terrified
+to comprehend which way he was going, kept straight ahead.
+
+Crack, crack! went the pistols of Grimm and Swords, and the bullets
+whizzed uncomfortably near our short friend's head.
+
+"Oh, Lordy, Lordy, I know I shall be killed!" he cried in tones so wild
+and shrill that his fear could not be doubted. He reached the thicket
+bordering Wolf Creek and--crash, crash, bang!--he went through the
+thicket into the creek. The splash was plainly heard by his pursuers
+and, in spite of themselves, they could not repress a laugh.
+
+In a moment they were at the bank and beheld a half drowned little man,
+sneezing and coughing as he struggled to the bank and clung to some
+pendant vines.
+
+"Hem, hem, or Lordy!--achew--hem, hem!--oh Lordy, achew!" he murmured.
+"I'll--achew--quit this horrible soldier--achew--business. Oh! Lordy, I
+know I shall be killed! Achew! oh, Lordy. I want to quit this, I never
+was made to be a soldier."
+
+"Helloa!" cried Uncle Dan. "Come out o' there, and tell us who ye are."
+
+He looked up on the bank and, seeing the soldiers, with a cry plunged
+under the water. In a moment more he came up to breathe.
+
+"Come out o' that and don't be playing mud-turtle," cried Uncle Dan. "Ef
+I ain't mistaken, ye are Patrick Henry Diggs, and yer lost."
+
+It really was Diggs, and, with a yell of recognition and delight, he
+scrambled up the bank.
+
+"O, Uncle Dan, Uncle Dan, Uncle Dan!" he cried, falling almost exhausted
+at his feet. "Save me, save me, save me!"
+
+"Save ye from what?" said Uncle Dan.
+
+"From being shot and drowned and killed. Oh, I solemnly swear that I
+will never have anything more to do with this soldier business. It is
+only run, run, from beginning to end, and then plunging head first into
+a muddy stream. Oh, I'll quit it, I'll quit it. Heaven forgive me, Uncle
+Dan!" he cried vehemently.
+
+"This is sorry business, Diggs. What war ye doing?" said Uncle Dan
+seriously.
+
+"Running for my life," answered Diggs.
+
+"Get up, Diggs," said the old scout solemnly.
+
+The little fellow arose, looking more like a school-boy who was going to
+be thrashed.
+
+"Diggs," said the old man, and there was not the slightest tinge of jest
+in his tones, "what war ye doing with the rebels?"
+
+"If you please, sir,--hem, hem--" began Diggs, greatly confused, turning
+pale as death and beginning to tremble, "I--I--was taken prisoner with
+these two gentlemen," pointing to Corporal Grimm and Sergeant Swords.
+
+"No, you were not," said both at once. "We were never taken prisoners."
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon--hem, hem!--gentlemen, please hear me through,
+and I can explain all this to you. I was taken prisoner by the rebels
+one night, when I went out with these two gentlemen, and they--hem,
+hem!--I mean the rebels, kept me for a long time until they made me go
+with them to-day, and you found me with them."
+
+"Do you mean to say that ye have been a prisoner all this time?" asked
+Sergeant Swords.
+
+"Yes," said Diggs, after a moment's hesitation.
+
+"Then what was ye doing with a gun in yer hand, when we come on ye and
+the others?" said Corporal Grimm.
+
+"You are mistaken, it was some one else," said Diggs, becoming confused.
+
+"No, I am not. We all saw you throw it away and run with the rest," said
+the Corporal.
+
+"Well, it was one I had just picked up. I was tryin' to escape, when you
+came up, and I ran with the rest."
+
+"But here ye are with the cartridge-box belted around you," said the
+Sergeant, "and you have the gray uniform on."
+
+Diggs was too much confused to reply, and his eyes dropped under the
+searching glance of the soldiers.
+
+"Diggs," said the old scout, with great earnestness in his tones, "I'm
+afraid it will go hard with you. You are a deserter and a spy. It's
+sorry business, Diggs."
+
+"O, Uncle Dan, Uncle Dan, promise me you will not let me be hurt!" cried
+Diggs.
+
+"Come along. You shall be treated as a prisoner of war, but I can't say
+what a court martial may do about your desertion."
+
+"O, Uncle Dan, you wont let them shoot me, will you? Say you won't, and
+I'll do anything in the world you want me to do. I'll enlist in your
+army and fight on half rations."
+
+"You've 'listed a little too much already," said Uncle Dan. "This tryin'
+to sarve two masters won't do."
+
+"Oh, you surely would not let me be killed. Oh, promise me, you will not
+let them take me out and shoot me." Poor Diggs broke down and sobbed
+like a whipped school-boy.
+
+"Hush up blubberin'. Be a man, if ye've got any manhood about ye, and
+come along."
+
+They now begin to retrace their steps back to where the main army had
+paused.
+
+"But, Uncle Dan, you have known me from a child, and you knew my father
+before me. Say that you wont have me killed!" sobbed Diggs, as he walked
+along with a soldier on either side of him.
+
+"That's beyond my control," replied Uncle Dan. "I'll turn ye over to the
+authorities, and I can't make promises."
+
+Poor Diggs felt his heart sink within him. His very breathing became
+oppressive, and the soldiers who walked by his side seemed like giants
+of vengeance.
+
+"Oh, what must I do, I know I shall be killed," thought Diggs. He
+reflected on his past life and commenced preparing for his exit from
+this world.
+
+In his mind he opened a double-column ledger account of the good and the
+bad acts of his life. He tried to think how many times he had prayed.
+They were few. Only on occasions, like the present, when his danger was
+imminent. He remembered with horror, now, that when the danger was
+gone, he had always forgotten his good resolves, and mentally blamed
+himself for his weakness. The bad column ran up so rapidly that it
+seemed impossible for the account to be balanced.
+
+"If I ever can get out of this," he mentally ejaculated, "I shall devote
+my life to the Lord's service. I will be a preacher; I would make a
+capital preacher; I was meant for a preacher, I know. If the good Lord
+will only get me out of this scrape, I will not go back on my word,
+sure!"
+
+When Uncle Dan's party came up, they found Colonel Holdfast, Colonel
+Jones and Major Fleming holding a consultation under a large tree.
+
+"Here is Uncle Dan, the scout, the very man we wanted," said Colonel
+Holdfast. "But who have you there? Did you find your prisoner in the
+home of the beaver and musk rat?"
+
+Uncle Dan explained how they captured Diggs, and then the scout was
+instructed that he was to pilot two of the regiments through the woods
+to Snagtown, while the other was to follow up the retreating enemy.
+Uncle Dan understood in a moment how matters stood. There was no danger
+from the retreating Confederates, but it was very important that
+fortifications be thrown up at Snagtown.
+
+Poor Diggs spent the night following in the jail building with several
+other prisoners. He passed the weary hours in prayer, good resolutions
+and in the firm determination to be a preacher, if the Lord would get
+him out of this scrape.
+
+
+     "When the devil was sick, the devil a monk would be.
+     When the devil was well, the devil a monk was he."
+
+
+Major Fleming, to whom was left the task of completing the rout of the
+Confederate forces, was a bold, energetic man. He pushed forward with no
+delay after the demoralized and retreating enemy. The science of war was
+yet new to both sides, and, while bravery and tact was displayed at an
+early day of the war, there was a lack of the veteran's skill.
+
+The retreat was up Wolf Creek toward the mountains, through a rough,
+wild region. The advance of the Confederates came to where Uncle Dan's
+cabin stood. It so happened that Joe, who had so often been Uncle Dan's
+companion, was at the cabin, which he kept always ready for the old
+man's return. He stood in the door way and watched the advancing throng,
+his mild blue eyes wide with wonder.
+
+"Do you come from the land of Canaan, and is the famine over where my
+father dwells?" he asked of the rough soldiers, who paused at the spring
+to drink.
+
+"Come from Canaan? No; we come from h--l," replied one, with a laugh at
+his own wit.
+
+"Have you seen my father?" asked Joe, in astonishment.
+
+"No; but we have seen the devil," replied another, "and he is close at
+our heels."
+
+The poor idiot looked alarmed. He vaguely comprehended that some danger
+was advancing, and his eyes filled with tears.
+
+"Oh, what shall I do?" he cried, in tones so plaintive, so pitiful, that
+they might have touched a heart of stone.
+
+"Do? Run," said one of the soldiers, "run for your life, and hide among
+the rocks. There are plenty about here."
+
+"No," said a third, "fight them. Here is a gun," handing him a musket.
+"Take this and shoot the first one you see."
+
+Joe took the gun, but no dangerous light shone in his blue eyes.
+
+"I will fight no one but the Philistines," he said, thoughtfully.
+
+He was stunned and confused, and stood by the spring with the old musket
+in his hands, as group after group of armed soldiers hurried by.
+
+"Hilloa, Joe, what are you doing?" said a familiar voice, and Howard
+Jones came towards him.
+
+"I am here to assist Samson slay the Philistines," replied the poor
+lunatic.
+
+"Put that down," said Howard, taking the gun from him and laying it on
+the rocks by the spring. "Now run. Go that way," pointing to the west,
+"and don't you take any guns in your hands. If any one says 'halt!' stop
+at once."
+
+Howard Jones hurried on, hoping rather than believing, that Joe would
+follow his advice.
+
+"Helloa, where are you going?" cried another soldier, as Joe started
+away.
+
+"Fleeing from Sodom," replied Joe.
+
+"Well, sir, don't you flee. Pick up that gun and fight the d----d
+Yankees. Shoot 'em as fast as they come out of the woods."
+
+Joe, always obedient, took up the gun again and remained automaton-like,
+to obey the last speaker.
+
+"For shame, Bryant!" exclaimed Seth Williams, who came up at that
+moment. "He is crazy. Would you have him expose his life that way, when
+he doesn't know what he is doing? Put the gun down, Joe, and go that
+way," said Seth, pointing to the west. "Go to Mr. Tompkins; he wants
+you."
+
+Joe hastened to obey, and Seth hurried on.
+
+There seemed to be some fatal attraction about that long line of moving
+men, with burnished arms and glittering bayonets, to poor Joe. He had
+not gone a dozen rods before he paused to look back at them. Tramp,
+tramp, tramp, they went, on and on, and he looked till his weak mind
+became all confused with wonder. As the dangerous reptile chains the
+bird it seeks to destroy, and draws it involuntarily to its death, so
+poor Joe felt involuntarily drawn towards that moving line of gray coats
+and glittering steel. Who were they? Where were they going? When would
+that long line end?
+
+They kept passing, passing, passing, so many men, and so much alike,
+that poor Joe finally concluded it must be only one man, doomed for some
+misdeed to walk on, and on, and on forever, never advancing on his
+endless journey. Joe forgot Howard Jones and Seth Williams, and,
+pausing, gazed on in mute wonder.
+
+But the main body had at length passed. Then the line became broken, and
+only straggling groups of horsemen and footmen went by; then these
+finally came at longer intervals, but in larger groups. Joe thought the
+end must be near.
+
+The rear guard of the Confederates paused in front of Uncle Dan's cabin,
+to check the advance guard of Major Fleming.
+
+"Halt!" cried the officer. "Deploy skirmishers and the advance."
+
+"They're almost upon us, lieutenant," said a subordinate officer,
+riding in from the woods.
+
+"Let 'em come," said the first speaker. "Take shelter behind trees or
+rocks, and make sure of every head that peeps out of the woods."
+
+The men, about fifty in number, sprang to cover. The officer in command,
+chancing to look around, saw Crazy Joe, still spell-bound with wonder.
+
+"Hey, fellow," he cried, "what are you doing there?"
+
+"Nothing," said Joe.
+
+"Well, then, come here and I'll give you something to do."
+
+Joe obeyed. One look in his face was enough to betray the poor fellow's
+weakness.
+
+The lieutenant knew that he was crazy, but, reckless of what the poor
+fellow's fate might be, he pointed to the musket Joe had laid on the
+rocks, and said:
+
+"Pick that up, get behind those rocks, and when I say 'Fire!' shoot at
+the men you see coming from those trees."
+
+Joe knew nothing else to do, but obey, little dreaming of the dread
+consequences that were to follow.
+
+"What do you expect that crazy chap to do?" asked a soldier, as he
+rammed a ball down his rifle.
+
+"He can shoot, and his bullet may strike a blue coat."
+
+"Brace up and look more soldier-like," said one.
+
+"Who greased yer hat?" asked another.
+
+"When was yer hair cut?" put in a third.
+
+"What ye got in the pockets of that great coat?" said another.
+
+"Attention!" cried the lieutenant. "Here comes the enemy. Steady! Be
+sure of your aim, and fire only when you have it."
+
+The Union skirmishers advanced cautiously, and the Confederates blazed
+away, taking care not to expose their own persons to the sharpshooters
+in the woods below and above. The fire from the woods became deadly, and
+the lieutenant ordered a retreat just as the Union forces in the woods,
+receiving reinforcements, made a charge.
+
+"Run, run for your lives!" cried the lieutenant, setting the example.
+
+A storm of leaden hail swept around Uncle Dan's low cabin, rattling
+against the walls and shattering shade trees in front of it.
+
+Joe's face was now white with terror. The dread monster had come. He saw
+the men about him take to flight, and, in his simplicity, he threw aside
+the unused gun and followed them. He had not gone far before he changed
+his course, running off to the left, down the creek bottom, where the
+grass was tall and dry. The Confederates kept straight on across the
+woods, making for the mountain pass.
+
+A detachment of soldiers came up to the cabin, and, seeing Joe in
+flight, the others already out of range, levelled their guns upon him.
+
+"Hold!" cried an officer, in the uniform of a United States captain, as
+he galloped up to the group.
+
+He was too late, before the word was fairly uttered, a dozen rifle shots
+drowned it.
+
+"Great God, you have hit him!" cried Captain Abner Tompkins, as, through
+the smoke of the muskets, he saw Joe throw up his hands, reel, and fall.
+"You have hit him, and he was a poor, crazy fellow."
+
+In a moment Abner was beside the prostrate form. He sprang from his
+horse and raised Joe from the ground. A deadly pallor had overspread his
+face; his blue eyes were glazed and he was gasping for breath.
+
+"Who is it? Is he hurt?" cried Major Fleming, riding up to the spot,
+where the young captain was supporting the dying man on his knee.
+
+"It is a poor fellow called Crazy Joe, and some of our men have shot him
+by mistake," said Abner, a moisture gathering in his eyes.
+
+"He may not be badly hurt; perhaps he is only stunned," said the major.
+
+But while they yet spoke, Joe breathed his last. Crazy Joe was dead;
+dead, without one ray of light piercing the dark cloud he had so vainly
+tried to lift; dead, with the dark mystery of his life unexplained;
+dead, not knowing who or what he was.
+
+A musket ball had struck him in the back, passing out at the breast, and
+he lived but a few minutes after Abner had reached his side; he was
+past recognition then, and never spoke after he was shot.
+
+Abner had the body conveyed to his father's house. The troops returned
+to Snagtown, having orders to pursue the enemy no further than the foot
+of Twin Mountains.
+
+When Irene beheld the body of Crazy Joe, her resolution, which had borne
+her up under so many trials, gave way. She swooned, and, when she
+recovered, her grief so touched Mr. Tompkins that he had a costly burial
+outfit prepared for the poor dead boy. Abner obtained leave of absence
+to attend the funeral, and, early in the morning, he entered the home of
+his childhood, where he had so often played with the helpless being, who
+now lay there cold and lifeless. Irene met him in the hall, her eyes red
+with weeping.
+
+"O, Abner," she cried, "it was such a cruel thing!"
+
+"Yes, dear Irene, it was cruel, but it was a mistake, we were powerless
+to prevent," replied Abner, thinking it was the suddenness of his death
+that affected her.
+
+"But, O, Abner, you do not understand me. I cannot tell you how
+strangely the death of this unfortunate being affects me. I loved Joe as
+we love those whose blood flows in our veins. I knew it all along, but
+never felt it so forcibly as now. 'Tis some great instinct, some higher
+power than human reason, that prompts me. Come, see how peaceful, how
+happy, how changed he looks."
+
+He went with Irene into the darkened room. Joe's body was dressed in
+dark clothes with spotless linen, the hair trimmed and brushed, the
+eyelids closed over the troubled eyes. A look of intelligence had dawned
+in death on the face for years expressionless. There was a striking
+beauty in the face, with its perfect curve, its delicate, clear-cut
+features, and it seemed that there might have been a brain of power
+behind that lofty brow, on which he perceived the same deep scar that he
+had seen on his head when a boy. Abner was astonished. He had never
+thought Joe handsome with the old, pitiful look on his face, and his
+astonishment deepened, when, for the first time, he observed a striking
+resemblance between that face and the face of the girl who bent over it.
+
+"It cannot be possible!" he thought. "Yet it might be; the birth of
+both was shrouded in mystery."
+
+He did not give his thoughts expression, but he turned with deepening
+compassion from the white face of the dead to the face scarcely less
+white of the girl beside him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+DIGGS GETS OUT OF HIS SCRAPE AGAIN.
+
+
+Mr. Diggs' views, in the cold, dark prison, and through iron bars, of a
+soldier's life, were very gloomy. The first night of his incarceration,
+for hours, he tossed about unable to sleep.
+
+"I am a failure," he moaned, "a miserable failure. I went into the army,
+intending to rise to be a general, and only got to be a corporal; then
+taken prisoner, lost my office, retaken by my own company and treated
+coolly. No chance of promotion, only kicks, cuffs, and bumps all through
+this cruel world. Others have risen to higher positions. There's Abner
+and Oleah, both captains. They were never taken prisoner, ducked in a
+creek, or thrown into a thorn bush; why should I? and now I am to be
+tried by a court-martial as a deserter, and I know I shall be killed."
+
+"Shut up!" yelled half a dozen fellow prisoners. "Do you intend to
+sleep, or let any of us sleep to-night?"
+
+"We're all going to be led out and shot to-morrow," whined Diggs.
+
+"Well, is that any reason ye should be keepin' us awake all night?"
+replied one gruff fellow in an adjoining cell. The doors of all the
+cells were open.
+
+Diggs was awed into silence by the tones of his companions, and, while
+wondering how these men could take their coming fate so coolly, fell
+asleep. He attributed his own emotions to the possession of finer
+sensibilities than those of his companions.
+
+"What's to be done with us?" he asked next morning of the soldier who
+brought their breakfast.
+
+"Don't know," was the reply, as that worthy set the breakfast on the
+stand and departed. Mr. Diggs did not have an excellent appetite.
+
+"Say, messmate," said a mischievous prisoner, "don't eat too much, for
+these Yankees are cannibals, and, when they have fattened their
+prisoners, they eat 'em."
+
+Poor Diggs pushed back his plate, sick at heart, and commenced pacing
+the hall in front of his cell. Seeing a soldier on guard duty outside,
+he went to the grating and called to him:
+
+"Can I speak to you?"
+
+"I reckon you can," was the answer.
+
+"Do you know what's going to become of me?"
+
+"I think, sir," said the soldier, gravely, "that you will be in h--l
+before morning."
+
+"Oh! they do really intend to kill me," cried Diggs, and running back to
+his cell, he fell upon his knees and tried to pray.
+
+"If ever I get out of this," he vowed, "I'll be a preacher. I was made
+for a preacher."
+
+"Well, now, who cares if you are?" said a fellow prisoner, roughly, who
+was playing cards with three others at the table. "You needn't be
+disturbin' honest men, who hev no desire for sich things. Keep yer jaw
+and yer preachin' to yerself!"
+
+"How can you be so wicked," said Diggs, "to carry on such unholy games,
+when you know that the judgment awaits you?"
+
+"Oh, dry up!--I'll pass," said one.
+
+"Remember, you wicked men, that you have souls to save!" cried Diggs,
+growing quite warm and earnest in this, his first exhortation.
+
+"Oh, hush up yer nonsense!--Order him up, Bill," said another.
+
+"You have souls," persisted Diggs.
+
+"We've got no such thing!--I'll order you up and play it alone," replied
+the one called Bill.
+
+"Remember, poor dying sinners, you have souls," Diggs went on.
+
+"Remember, sir, you have a head," said one of the players, "and if you
+don't keep it closed, you'll get it punched."
+
+Abashed and crestfallen, Diggs again retired to a corner to pray, this
+time in silence, and to wonder at the perverseness and wickedness of
+this generation.
+
+The day passed, the next, the next, and the next without any news from
+the outside world. Diggs asked the soldier, who brought their meals
+twice a day, at each visit, what was to be done to him, the soldier on
+each occasion answering that he did not know.
+
+Diggs had grown despondent; his round, red face had become pale and
+attenuated, and his little gray eyes had lost even their silly twinkle.
+He thought of all the imprisoned heroes and martyred saints he had ever
+read of; finally he came to imagine himself a hero, and determined that,
+when he was released, he would write a book on prison life, relating his
+own experience. As an author, he certainly would achieve fame. If only
+he could have pen, ink and paper, he would at once begin the wonderful
+production, which was to astonish the world. Mr. Diggs thought, if he
+himself could not be a hero, he could portray heroes with life-like
+effect. He was half persuaded to become a novelist. He would be a
+preacher or lawyer, a novelist, any thing in the world but a soldier; he
+had had enough of that. As he had not yet been ordered out and shot, Mr.
+Diggs' hopes began to rise in his breast, and already, he felt half
+ashamed of the weakness he had displayed.
+
+On the fifth day after his arrival at the prison, he was called to the
+door. It was not more than ten o'clock in the forenoon. Half a dozen
+soldiers, headed by a sergeant, were waiting outside the prison. He was
+ordered to come out, and once more stood in the open air. He was marched
+at once to Colonel Holdfast's head-quarters in the Courthouse at
+Snagtown. Colonel Holdfast, two other Colonels, Major Fleming, and
+another officer were sitting in the place, which was occupied by civil
+judges in times of peace. An awful silence seemed to pervade the
+court-room, as Mr. Diggs was marched in. A number of soldiers were
+lounging about on the seats, and several officers were conferring in
+whispers. What it meant Mr. Diggs was not long in conjecturing. It was
+the dreadful court-martial. His hopes sunk, his knees knocked together,
+and his head swam as he was placed before the terrible tribunal. The
+orderly placed a seat for him in front of the officers, and he rather
+fell into it than sat down.
+
+"Is your name Patrick Henry Diggs?" said Colonel Holdfast.
+
+"I--I believe it is," faintly gasped the terrified man.
+
+"You are charged with having deserted from our army and gone over to the
+enemy. What have you to say to the charge?" asked the colonel.
+
+There was no response. Diggs hung his head.
+
+"What do you say, sir?" demanded the colonel, sharply.
+
+"N--n--not guilty, your honor."
+
+"Here is your name on our rolls as having enlisted in my own Company B,
+Abner Tompkins, captain. Is that true?"
+
+"I--I--I reckon so."
+
+Corporal Grimm and Sergeant Swords were called, and both testified that
+Diggs had been captured with other rebels in the late encounter; that,
+when taken, he was armed and fighting in the rebel cause. Uncle Dan
+Martin also testified that he had been present at the capture of Diggs,
+and that he was in arms for the Southern cause.
+
+There was no jesting this time. Mr. Diggs found it all serious business.
+The officers were not long in arriving at a verdict. They retired into
+another room for a few moments' consultation, and returned with their
+verdict, which Colonel Holdfast read. It was simply the terrible word:
+
+"Guilty!"
+
+"Stand up, prisoner, that sentence may be passed," said the Colonel.
+
+The prisoner did not move. He had fainted outright on hearing the
+verdict pronounced. The regimental surgeon was present and administered
+restoratives, and Diggs was held up by two strong soldiers.
+
+"In view," began the colonel, "of the accumulative and convincing
+character of the evidence against you, proving you to be a spy, you are
+condemned to death."
+
+"Oh, I knew, I always knew I should be killed!" interrupted Diggs, in a
+feeble voice.
+
+"Therefore," went on the colonel, slowly and solemnly, hoping his words
+might have effect on the listeners and prevent other desertions, "you
+will be taken from here to your place of confinement, and there kept
+until this day week, when you will be taken therefrom, led to the field
+north of this town, at the hour of ten o'clock in the forenoon, and
+there shot until you are dead, and may the Lord have mercy on your
+soul."
+
+The colonel sat down, and Diggs, again fainting, was carried back,
+almost insensible, to his prison.
+
+When Abner heard of the trial and the decision of the court-martial, he
+endeavored to persuade the officers to reconsider the case, representing
+to them that Diggs was imbecile in mind and not actually responsible for
+his deeds. Irene, hearing with horror that the poor fellow was awaiting
+execution, which was hourly approaching, hastened to Snagtown to plead
+with the commanding officers in his behalf, and Uncle Dan used his
+influence, too, for poor Diggs' fate, but argument and entreaty were
+alike unavailing, the officers declaring that the case was plain, and
+justice must be done, and an example made.
+
+Irene visited poor Diggs in prison and found him on the verge of
+despair. He had wept until his eyes were swollen. He would not eat or
+sleep, and his abject terror, his want of food and sleep had made him a
+pitiable-looking object. She remained only a few moments, but they were
+the only moments of comfort he had known since his sentence was passed,
+for Irene came to tell him it had been arranged that Captain Tompkins
+should go to Washington to intercede with the President on his behalf.
+Almost daily Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Jones, who had known Diggs from his
+babyhood, came to visit him. They both had sons in the rebel army, and
+so could sympathize with poor Diggs. These were the only faces from the
+outside world that he saw, except the guard, who were sometimes
+kind-hearted, allowing him all possible privileges, but often rough and
+surly, adding to his misery by coarse taunts and harsh treatment.
+
+A man with a heart of stone might have felt compassion for Diggs. The
+little fellow's vanity and boasting were gone. He was humble and meek,
+and he seldom spoke. Even his fellow prisoners treated him with
+consideration, and endeavored to cheer and encourage him. Captain
+Tompkins obtained leave of absence, went to the Junction, and took the
+first train for Washington. He knew that if he could see the President,
+a pardon would be obtained, but to secure an interview with the
+President, when the country was in such a condition as it was at that
+time, was no easy matter. Days and weeks might elapse and leave him
+still waiting for an opportunity. The village pastor found in Diggs a
+ready convert now, but while he professed to have found peace for his
+soul, he was by no means anxious to quit this world. Hour after hour
+dragged slowly by, until the day was gone, and no news from Captain
+Tompkins. The next day and the next came and passed, the doomed man
+waiting anxiously, hour by hour, the captain's return. He had heard of
+James Bird, the hero of Lake Erie, celebrated in song and story, how he
+had been condemned to death and pardoned, and how the messenger came
+bearing the pardon a few seconds too late, even while the smoke of the
+executioner's gun yet hung in the air, and feared that this fate would
+be his. It was now Wednesday, and the captain had not come and had sent
+no word. Diggs did nothing but pace his narrow cell--he was closely
+confined--bemoaning his fate and imploring every one, who came to see
+him, to save him from his horrible fate, from being cut off in the prime
+of life. Thursday dawned, and the captain did not come. Even if he did
+return, he might not bring the pardon. It was a day of agony to poor
+Diggs. To-morrow, that dread to-morrow, he must die. The minister
+remained with him most of the day, and Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Williams
+stayed with him several hours. Singing and prayers were frequently heard
+from the cell of the condemned man, who, most of the time, crouched in
+the corner with his face bowed in his hands.
+
+The fatal morning dawned. Poor Diggs! despair had seized him. His most
+intimate friends would not have recognized that haggard, wild-looking
+face. The minister, at his request, came early to his cell, also the
+sympathizing old ladies, who had passed so many weary hours with him.
+But the morning hours now seemed to fly. No message or messenger came.
+The minister looked at his watch. It was only a few minutes before ten.
+All was silence, save an occasional sob from the prisoner or the old
+ladies. No one dared speak. The minister sat silently holding his watch,
+noting the swift flying moments, his lips moving in silent prayer for
+the soul of the man, who was soon to appear at the bar of God.
+
+Ten o'clock came. There was a rattling of keys, a sliding of iron bolts
+and bars, and the jailer called the name of
+
+"Patrick Henry Diggs!"
+
+The minister and all, in the doomed man's cell, bowed for a moment in
+silence, then the good man lifted up his voice to that God, whom all the
+universe worships, in a prayer for a soul about to take flight.
+
+Two soldiers entered and supported the prisoner beyond the prison walls,
+the minister following with the guard.
+
+The dread place was reached. Sergeant Swords and Corporal Grimm had
+charge of the execution. At the farther extremity of the field was a
+fresh dug grave--a rude coffin beside it--and, standing in line beneath
+an oak tree, were twelve soldiers with muskets in their hands. The sight
+was too much for Diggs and he again fainted. The regimental surgeon
+administered restoratives, and the officers in charge advanced to
+prepare the prisoner for his fate.
+
+The minister approached Sergeant Swords, asking permission, before this
+was done, to offer a last prayer. It was granted.
+
+The prayer was long and earnest, appealing to the Ruler of the universe,
+in universal terms. The minister prayed for the prisoner, he prayed for
+his executioners; he prayed for the officers who composed the
+court-martial; he prayed for the soldiers, who were to execute the
+sentence; he prayed for the army, for both armies, for all the armies in
+the world, for all the armies that had been, and for all that might be.
+Having completely finished up the army business, the preacher commenced
+on civilians, and prayed, and prayed, and prayed, until both soldiers
+and officers looked at him and at each other in amazement.
+
+"Sergeant," whispered Corporal Grimm, "did you ever hear as long a
+prayer in your life?"
+
+"No," was the whispered reply. "There! I'll be hanged if he ain't gone
+back to Moses!"
+
+The prayer still went on, and on, and on; and the soldiers, tired of
+standing, kneeled; tired of kneeling, sat; tired of sitting, lay
+down--and still the prayer went on. It was long past high noon, before
+the faltering "Amen!" was pronounced.
+
+"Ready, fall in!" came the sharp order.
+
+The men rose from the grass and fell in line, and the sergeant led Diggs
+over to the coffin by the side of the grave; but Diggs, sobbing
+piteously, clung to him with such tenacity that it was difficult for the
+sergeant to free himself. He finally succeeded, forced him to kneel by
+his coffin, put the bandage over his eyes. Just as he stepped away, the
+clatter of hoofs were heard coming around the bend in the road.
+
+"Attention!" said the sergeant. "Ready!"
+
+A loud cry interrupted the order, and a horseman came dashing up the
+hill.
+
+"Hold!" said Sergeant Swords. "There comes the captain."
+
+On, on he came, waving a paper high over his head. The soldiers rested
+on their guns.
+
+Abner Tompkins was among them in a minute, and declared the prisoner
+free by the authority of _Abraham Lincoln_.
+
+When released, Diggs sprang to his feet and, in his joy, embraced the
+preacher, embraced the officers and would have embraced the soldiers,
+had not one threateningly pointed his bayonet at him.
+
+As they returned to the village, all pleased with the happy result,
+Corporal Grimm, approaching the minister, said:
+
+"I shall always hereafter be a believer in the saving power of prayer.
+Praying often and praying _long_, does the work."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+THE ABDUCTION.
+
+
+The Union forces stationed at Snagtown did not remain there many days
+after the event related in the last chapter. Diggs was paroled, and the
+regiments ordered into Winter quarters at the Junction. The retirement
+of the Union forces was followed by predatory incursions of the
+Confederates, who were encamped just across the Twin Mountains. Small
+parties on foraging expeditions frequently crossed the latter, and
+greatly harassed the citizens in and around Snagtown.
+
+Since the last battle of Snagtown and the Confederate defeat, the peace
+and quiet of the Tompkins mansion was broken. Mrs. Tompkins openly and
+warmly avowed her principles, and Mr. Tompkins, old as he was, had
+almost decided to enlist in the ranks of the Union army and fight for
+his country.
+
+Irene could range herself with neither party; her sympathies were too
+equally divided.
+
+"To think," said Mrs. Tompkins to Irene, in her husband's presence,
+"that the Yankees, not content with killing poor, harmless Joe, should
+attempt to murder Diggs in cold blood!"
+
+"How unfair it is," said Mr. Tompkins, "for you to charge the soldiers,
+who are fighting for our country, with what was purely a mistake in one
+case, and what, in the other, was the result of laws which have existed
+in all armies since military law was established."
+
+"Don't say _our_ country," said Mrs. Tompkins, bitterly. "They are
+fighting for your cold, frozen North, not for my sunny South, which they
+are trying to desolate and destroy. Sooner than see them victorious, I
+would willingly follow both my sons to the grave."
+
+Before Mr. Tompkins could reply, Irene interrupted the discussion.
+
+"Oh, father, mother, do not talk about this dreadful war. It has
+brought us misery enough; let it not ruin our home. It is all
+wrong--wrong on both sides--and the world will one day say so. The
+Nation is a great family, and if members of that family are in arms
+against each other, is it any credit to either--can it matter which side
+is defeated? I know nothing about either side, but I know it is nothing
+to take pride or pleasure in. Rather let us pray for its ending, than
+rejoice or sorrow over triumph or defeat."
+
+Mrs. Tompkins went sobbing from the room, and the planter went out and
+seated himself beneath his favorite maple, in his rustic chair. His face
+was clouded. A barrier was gradually rising between himself and his
+wife--the wife whose love had blessed his youth and his manhood, the
+wife whose estrangement he had never dreamed of, between whom and
+himself he had thought no obstacle, material or immaterial, could ever
+come.
+
+To no one was this sad change more painful than Irene. Left alone in the
+great, silent room, her heart swelled with pain, her eyes grew dim.
+Clouds were rising thick and fast about her life; it seemed to her that
+no ray of light could ever pierce their darkness. She could not stay in
+the house, it seemed so cold and empty, and she went out, walking almost
+mechanically from the garden to the high road leading past the house.
+
+The road was very pleasant this Autumn evening; great oaks grew on
+either side, their brown leaves rustling musically overhead. Irene
+followed it to the grave-yard, and, like one treading an accustomed
+path, made her way between the grass-grown graves and paused by the side
+of a new-made mound.
+
+"Poor Joe!" she sighed. "Your life so sad, your death so terrible and
+swift. No home, no friends, no hope on earth! Then why should I mourn
+for you?"
+
+As with soft fingers, the evening air touched her aching eyes, and the
+evening stillness fell like balm on her aching heart; but on the
+stillness suddenly fell the sound of horses' feet. She started from the
+grave. The tramp of hoofs was approaching. What could it mean? Alarmed,
+she turned to fly. She had caught a glimpse of a horseman in gray
+uniform, and she had taken but a few swift steps toward her home, when
+the horseman galloped down the forest path and drew rein at her side.
+
+"Stop, Irene, it is I," said a familiar voice, and the rider sprang from
+the saddle and stood before her.
+
+"Oleah!" she exclaimed, in joyous surprise. "How you did frighten me!"
+
+"You should not be out at this hour alone," said Oleah. "Where are you
+going, Irene?"
+
+"I am going home," she said.
+
+"Well, you need be in no hurry to leave me. It is not often you see me
+Irene."
+
+"Leave you? Cannot you come with me?" her lovely gray eyes full with
+entreaty.
+
+"No," he answered, his head shaking sadly and his lips tremulous with
+emotion. "When last I was beneath the roof I met an enemy--"
+
+"Oleah," she said sadly, "I wish that I had never been taken beneath
+that roof to bring discord between you and your only brother."
+
+"A brother once," he cried bitterly; "a brother once, whom I
+loved--never loved as brother loved before. But now he has turned that
+love to hate. He is the enemy of my country, the enemy of my happiness,
+the destroyer of all my heart holds dear. Brother! Harp no longer on
+that word. I am not his brother, nor yours. Here, in the face of heaven,
+I tell you, you must choose. I will not have friendship, or your
+sisterly affection. Tell me you cannot love me, and I will leave you and
+my home forever. Tell me! I must and will know my fate now!"
+
+"How hard you make it for me!" she cried. "Do you not see, can you not
+understand, that you ask impossibilities of me?"
+
+"Irene," he said, in his low, deep, passionate tones, "you cannot say
+the words that will send me from you. My life is in danger here. Every
+moment that I stand by your side, holding your little, trembling hand in
+mine, increases my danger. We must go. I will never again leave you till
+you are my wife."
+
+"Oh, heavens, Oleah! What is it that you mean?"
+
+"I shall take you to my camp, and our chaplain shall marry us. Come, we
+have no time to lose."
+
+"Oleah!" she cried, in such a tone, so firm and sharp, that he paused
+involuntarily. "Think what it is you would have me do. Think of the
+disgrace, the anxiety, the suffering, you would cause!"
+
+"There cannot be disgrace for you, when your husband is by your side;
+and, as to the anxiety of my parents, theirs can be no greater than mine
+has been. My father cares not how much misery I and mine may undergo;
+need I care if a few gray hairs are added to his head? My love, my
+darling, listen! That old Yankee hunter, Dan Martin, is in the woods,
+his rifle is certain death five hundred yards away; and every moment I
+stand here, I do so at the peril of my life."
+
+"Then, dear Oleah, go! Leave me, and go!"
+
+"I came for you and I will not go alone."
+
+"I can not, can not--"
+
+He seized her in his arms and attempted to place her on his horse.
+
+"Oh, let me go!" she cried. "I don't love you, no, not even as a sister!
+Now, let me go!"
+
+Oleah uttered a sharp whistle and four horsemen, dressed in gray,
+galloped to his side and dismounted.
+
+"Help me," said Oleah, briefly.
+
+The next moment Irene was on the charger, her determined lover holding
+her before him. They dashed through the dark woods like the wind, the
+four cavalrymen following closely after.
+
+Irene resisted and implored in vain. From the moment his strong arms
+closed round her, Oleah had spoken no word except to urge on his horse.
+Then she uttered shriek after shriek, which only died out in the great
+forest as the little cavalcade thundered on.
+
+Mr. Tompkins was still sitting in his rustic seat, beneath his favorite
+maple, as the sun sank behind the Western hills. He was thinking, and
+his clouded brow told that his thoughts were far from pleasant. For
+twenty-five years he and his wife had lived together, and never before
+had the lightest word or deed disturbed their perfect harmony, but now
+the breach, that had divided brothers, yawned between husband and wife;
+he must either sacrifice his principles or lose the love of his wife.
+
+The sun had set, and the planter felt the chill of the evening air. He
+rose with a sigh and was turning to go toward the house, when he
+observed a negro, hatless and breathless, running in at the front gate.
+
+"What is the matter, Job?" he asked, as the black paused breathless in
+front of his master.
+
+"Why, marster--oh! it am too awful to tell all at once, unless you are
+prepared for it," said the darkey.
+
+"What is it? I am prepared for anything. Tell me, what is the matter?"
+demanded the planter.
+
+"Oh, marster, I had been to town and was comin' home froo de woods. I
+went that way afoot, kase the seceshers might a kotch me, seein' as de
+road is full of 'em all the time. An' Jim Crow, one of Mr. Glaze's
+niggers, told--told me as how they jes' hung up a nigger whenever they
+could find him. Jim told me that over on tother side o' mountains they
+had de woods hangin' full of niggers. Well, you see, hearin' all dem
+stories I was afraid to go on hossback de roadway, when I went arter de
+mail, but goes afoot froo de woods."
+
+"Well, go on now, and tell what it was you saw and what is the matter,"
+said the planter growing impatient.
+
+"Well, marster, I had been to de post-office and brought you these
+papers and dis letter," producing them, "and was on my way home froo de
+woods, when I hears an awful thumpin' and thunderin' o' hosses feet
+comin' down the wood path, that leads in the direction o' Twin
+Mountains. I think, may be, its seceshers comin' arter dis yer nigger
+an' I gits behind a big tree dat had jist been blown down not berry long
+ago, an' watches. I knowed it warn't no use for dis chile to 'tempt to
+run, kase dey would cotch 'im shua."
+
+Job paused for breath, and the planter waited in silence, knowing that
+he would comprehend the meaning of Job sooner by letting him tell his
+story in his own way.
+
+"Well, pretty soon I sees five seceshers on hossback, comin' just as
+fast as dere hosses could go froo de woods. An' de one what was afore de
+others had a woman, carrin' her like she was a baby. Just as dey got in
+front ob me I see dat de woman was fighting an' tryin' to git away. She
+hollered, 'Oh! I won't go, I won't go!' an' den I recognize dat it was
+my Miss Irene, an' dat dey were carrin' her off. I knowed her dress, I
+knowed her har, an' all de time she scream I knowed it was her. Den I
+jist wait till dey git by an' run ebery step home."
+
+"Oh, pshaw, Job, what an old idiot you are!" said the planter, with a
+laugh. "You had almost frightened me. It was not Miss Irene."
+
+"Oh, marster, it war," persisted Job.
+
+"I just left Miss Irene in the house."
+
+"But, marster, you is mistaken. I tell you it war her. I know for shua!"
+
+At this moment Irene's waiting-maid was crossing the lawn. Mr. Tompkins
+called to her:
+
+"Maggie, is your mistress in her room?"
+
+"No, sir, she went down the road about an hour ago."
+
+The planter fell back in his chair, as though he had been struck a blow,
+and buried his face in his hands, while the terrified maid hastened into
+the house to spread the news.
+
+Mrs. Tompkins hurried out on the lawn, where half a dozen blacks had
+already gathered about their master.
+
+"Oh, what shall we do? what shall we do?" she cried, all her patriotic
+fervor swallowed up in terror. "Maggie run to her room and see if she is
+not there."
+
+"No, missus, I have just been to see, an' she is gone."
+
+"Oh, my poor Irene! In the power of the mountain guerillas! What must be
+done?"
+
+"Be calm, Camille," said the planter, "we will immediately plan a
+pursuit and rescue her."
+
+The overseer aroused the neighbors, but it was quite dark before they
+had gathered on the lawn in front of the mansion.
+
+Twenty men, black and white, were chosen, and, with Mr. Tompkins at
+their head, they went down the road into the dark forest.
+
+When morning dawned no trace of the missing girl had been found, and all
+the day passed in fruitless search.
+
+The exhausted men were assembled in the road in front of Mr. Tompkins'
+house, arranging what should be done the next day, when down the hill
+came a troop of Union scouts, headed by no less a personage than Uncle
+Dan himself.
+
+"Well, what's the matter here?" asked Uncle Dan in astonishment halting
+his party.
+
+Mr. Tompkins told him what had happened.
+
+"Thunder! Jehoshaphat! Ye don't say so?" were the frequent interjections
+of the old scout during the brief narration.
+
+"Well, if that don't beat all creation, you may call me a skunk," said
+the old man at the conclusion. "We chaps are jist after sich sorry
+cusses, as them what carried off the gal; but we are tired out, hevin'
+been in the saddle ever since daylight and two scrimmages throwed in;
+so, ye see, we'll have to camp for the night; but we'll have that gal
+afore the sun circles this earth again."
+
+"There is plenty room for all in the house, and you are welcome to it,"
+said Mr. Tompkins.
+
+"We'd ruther hev yer barn," said Uncle Dan. "We don't care about
+sleeping in houses, seein' we don't seldom git to sleep in one, besides
+we'd rather be near our hosses."
+
+The efficient aid of the old scout having been secured, Mr. Tompkins'
+party dispersed, and the scouts, forty-one in number, were soon in the
+barn, their horses being stabled with quantities of corn and hay before
+them; then bright camp-fires were built in the barn-yard. The planter
+told them to take whatever they required, and soldiers seldom need a
+second hint of that kind. That night they fared sumptuously.
+
+This scouting party was under the immediate command of Uncle Dan. They
+were all experienced scouts, their rifles were of the very best make,
+and each was considered a marksman. Uncle Dan placed a careful guard
+about the premises, and then, while all the men not on duty lay wrapped
+in their blankets sleeping quietly on the fresh, sweet hay, he sat by
+the side of a smouldering camp-fire, under a large oak tree, smoking a
+short black pipe and wrapped in thought.
+
+A hand was laid on his shoulder. Supposing it to be one of his men, he
+glanced up at the person by his side. His astonishment can better be
+imagined than described, when he recognized the mysterious black, who
+had frustrated him in the woods during the retreat from Snagtown.
+
+That copper-face, the grizzled hair, the marvelous, bright, eyes, were
+not to be mistaken. It was Yellow Steve.
+
+Uncle Dan's astonishment for a moment held him dumb. How could that man
+have passed the line of pickets? Gaining his voice after a few moments,
+he said:
+
+"Well, I must say you are a bold 'un. I would like to know how you
+passed the pickets?"
+
+"Pickets, sir?" said the stranger, seating himself by the camp-fire
+opposite the old scout, "are very useful on ordinary occasions, but I
+have spent the most of my life in hiding, in avoiding guards, in running
+for my life, and consequently have become very expert in the business."
+
+"Who are you, and what do you want?"
+
+"I am called Yellow Steve. You are to start to-morrow in search of the
+young lady who was abducted?"
+
+"How did you learn that? How did you learn that any lady was abducted?"
+
+"That, sir, is a part of my profession. I learn things by means which
+ordinary mortals would never dream of. I came here to give you
+information that will lead to the discovery of the young lady you are in
+search of."
+
+"What do you know of her?" asked the old scout.
+
+"She is at the foot of the Twin Mountains, confined in the cabin you and
+Crazy Joe occupied for so many years. There is only ten men to guard
+her. She is there to-night. I saw her to-day when she saw me not. What
+is more, I know she will be there to-morrow. Then she is to be removed
+from there."
+
+"Are you laying a trap to catch us?" asked the old man sternly.
+
+"I am telling you heaven's own truth. Now I have performed my errand, I
+will go."
+
+Before the old scout could reply, the mysterious messenger rose and
+stole silently away in the darkness. He waited to hear the picket
+challenge him, but no challenge came.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+HE IS MY HUSBAND. OH, SPARE HIS LIFE.
+
+
+Irene soon discovered that her cries and her struggles were quite
+useless. The strong arm of Oleah held her firmly in the saddle, and the
+powerful horse swept steadily on. Night was falling fast, and she
+observed that the country, through which she was passing, was entirely
+strange to her; but, judging from their course, they would pass the Twin
+Mountains before morning. Looking appealingly into the dark, determined
+face, she said:
+
+"Even now it is not too late, Oleah; take me home."
+
+"Can you not trust me, Irene?" he answered, with a look of tenderness
+veiling the fire of his black eyes. "You are mine already, because you
+love me. No, your lips have not said it, but your eyes have betrayed
+you. I am fulfilling an oath, the violation of which would be perjury
+and the eternal ruin of my soul."
+
+"What can you mean?" she cried. "Oh, you are mad, mad!"
+
+"I have been mad," he answered. "A fire has been raging in my breast,
+that had almost burned my life away. One word from you would end my
+torture. What is the reason that locks your lips!"
+
+"Is it a proof of your love that you take me from my home to a soldiers'
+camp, bringing disgrace to me and grief to those to whom I owe more than
+life?"
+
+"I am taking you to no soldiers' camp. No rude gaze shall fall on your
+sweet face, and no rude words reach your ear. You shall sleep safely
+to-night within four walls, your companion gentle and kind, and men with
+strong arms and brave hearts shall guard the door, each willing and
+ready to lay down his life for yours."
+
+They rode on over hill and vale, crossed streams and passed through
+grand old forests.
+
+It was near midnight when they crossed a small, rocky stream and
+approached two log cabins that stood at the foot of the Twin Mountains.
+The moon had risen, and the Autumn night was calm and peaceful. The cry
+of night birds or the rustling of leaves, stirred by the light breezes,
+were the only sounds that broke the stillness. The tall mountain peaks
+in the distance looked like giant sentinels keeping guard over a
+sleeping world.
+
+A man stood in front of the most comfortable looking of the two cabins,
+apparently waiting for Oleah and his party. He was dressed in the gray
+uniform, had a very red head, red whiskers, red eyelashes, red eyebrows,
+and red freckles on his face. This Irene noticed as he came forward to
+assist her to alight. The next thing she noticed, was his musket leaning
+against the cabin wall.
+
+"Is every thing arranged, Jackson?" asked Oleah, as he sprang from the
+saddle.
+
+"Every thing, captain; the cabin is as neat as a pin," and the
+red-headed soldier lifted his cap, blinking and nodding his head.
+
+"Did you bring your wife?"
+
+"Yes, sir; Mrs. Jackson is in the house, sir, and will wait on the young
+lady," again touching his cap, blinking and nodding his head.
+
+"You will stay here to-night, Irene," said Oleah.
+
+She knew that, for the present, she must yield; yet she determined to
+resist when the time should come. She found a neat, pleasant looking
+woman within the cabin, evidently a mountaineer's wife, and supper ready
+laid for her. But she was too much agitated to eat, only tasting a cup
+of fragrant coffee. She noticed that the cabin in which she was confined
+bore evidence in more places than one of bullet marks, and rightly
+conjectured that there had been a recent fight there, though she little
+dreamed that she was so near the spot where Crazy Joe had breathed his
+last, and that she was beneath the roof that had so long sheltered him
+and Uncle Dan Martin, the hunter. It was nearly morning when she threw
+herself on the bed Mrs. Jackson had so carefully prepared for her, and
+in spite of her strange surroundings, her anxiety, her dark forebodings,
+she slept soundly.
+
+Morning came, and she ate Mrs. Jackson's carefully prepared breakfast,
+assiduously waited on by that pleasant-voiced woman. Irene noticed that
+no man entered the room. Mr. Jackson came to the door occasionally, to
+bring wood or water for his wife, but never entered. From the sound of
+voices without, she knew that there must be a dozen or more men about
+the house, yet she saw none save the red-headed Mr. Jackson, who was
+evidently on his best behavior, and never approached the cabin door
+without removing his cap.
+
+Though her comfort was carefully provided for, Irene saw that her every
+movement was watched and guarded. There was no possible chance of
+escape, surrounded by a guard so vigilant. About the middle of the
+afternoon, Oleah, who had evidently been away, returned, and with him
+came a man dressed in citizen's garb, with a meek face and frightened
+air, and the same four cavalrymen who had accompanied them the previous
+day. The man in citizen's garb, she was sure, must be a prisoner. Oleah
+approached the door with the meek-looking, timid stranger, and both
+entered. At a motion the four cavalrymen followed.
+
+"Irene," began Oleah, "it is necessary, in these troublesome times, that
+I have the right to protect you. This is a clergyman. We will be married
+now."
+
+"I will never marry you, Oleah," said Irene, firmly, her beautiful hazel
+eyes flashing fire on her determined lover.
+
+Without another word, Oleah forcibly took her right hand in his, then he
+turned to the clergyman and said:
+
+"You know your duty, sir; proceed."
+
+"But, sir, if the young lady is unwilling--if she refuses----"
+
+"She will not--does not," said Oleah.
+
+"I do! I do! I do!" cried Irene, struggling to free her hand.
+
+"Go on, sir!" said Oleah, sternly.
+
+The four cavalrymen ranged themselves behind their master, and the poor
+clergyman cast about him one desperate glance, and then, in faltering
+tones, began the marriage ceremony. Oleah's responses came deep and low,
+but Irene's "No, no, never!" rang out loud and clear.
+
+At a sign from the young captain, one of the tall cavalrymen quickly
+stepped behind her and forced her to bow assent.
+
+The minister stopped, aghast.
+
+"Go on, sir; go on!" thundered Oleah, his eyes gleaming.
+
+The terrified clergyman concluded the ceremony, pronouncing them man and
+wife, and then, burying his face in his hands, burst into tears.
+
+Immediately upon conclusion of the marriage ceremony, Oleah obtained a
+certificate of marriage from the minister, who was then allowed to
+depart under the escort of the faithful four, and Mrs. Jackson followed,
+them from the room, leaving Oleah alone with his reluctant bride.
+
+"Irene, my Irene," said Oleah, in his low, thrilling tones, "this was my
+only hope. In peaceful times I might have pressed my suit as others
+do--I might have wooed and waited; but to wait now was to lose you. Will
+not my wife forgive me?" he cried, imploringly.
+
+"This is no marriage--I am not your wife!" said Irene, in a low, steady
+voice. "Leave me! You have forfeited even a brother's claim. No, no; I
+will not listen to you!" she cried desperately, as Oleah came a step
+nearer. "You will not leave me, then! You will force me to defend
+myself!" As she spoke she snatched a pistol from his belt and leveled
+the weapon at his heart.
+
+Oleah folded his hands. "Fire if you wish," he said calmly. "Death at
+your hands is preferable to life without your love."
+
+She lowered the pistol, the flush faded from her face, her eyes grew
+misty with tears.
+
+"If to love you is a crime, deserving death, then, indeed, you shall be
+my executioner; for never did mortal love as I love you."
+
+She hesitated a moment, then laid the revolver on the table, and sinking
+into a chair burst into tears.
+
+"Heaven forgive you!" she sobbed, "for the misery you have caused!"
+
+"It is your forgiveness I want, my darling," he said. "I will leave you
+now since you bid me. To-morrow you shall be returned to your home, and
+I will never come to you save at your bidding."
+
+She did not lift her bowed head. There was a moment's stillness, broken
+only by her sobs. Then Oleah took the pistol from the table, returned it
+to his belt, and left the room.
+
+It was scarcely daylight when Uncle Dan ordered every man to the saddle.
+The drowsy soldiers protested, declaring the music of the crowing cock
+made them the more sleepy, but their leader was inexorable. Every man
+must be prepared to mount in thirty minutes. Breakfast over, they filed
+out of the barnyard, while the darkness of the night still hovered in
+the shadows of the thick forest. Uncle Dan had not deemed it prudent to
+reveal the interview of the night before, and none of the men knew what
+direction they were to take or what was to be their destination.
+
+When they had reached a clearing in the woods, the men were drawn up in
+a double circle, and the old scout rode in their midst, and, holding in
+his hand his broad-brimmed hat (he would not wear the regimental cap),
+he addressed them:
+
+"Now, boys, we're gwine where there will likely be some powder burnt and
+some lead scattered about loose. The gal, you heerd about last night, is
+up near the Twin Mountains, and we've got to get back home to-night. But
+the whole place is alive with guerrillas and bushwhackers and you may
+bet there'll be some hurting done. I want every man to be prepared and
+not to be taken by surprise. Look out for a big bushwhack, and be
+prepared to shoot at half a second's notice. Keep yer guns in yer hand
+and yer fingers near the locks. That's all, come on!"
+
+He led the way at a gallop, and the others followed, their horses' hoofs
+clattering on the frosty ground. The sun was just now rising over the
+eastern hills, and grass and leaves and bare brown twigs glittered
+resplendent in its rays. The country, over which they were passing, was
+rough and broken, with occasional bottom lands, covered with gigantic
+forest trees, and the morning air was clear and chilly, as they swept so
+swiftly through it, close after their veteran commander, who was a
+striking figure mounted on his powerful bay horse, with the broad brim
+of his hat turned back from his earnest bronze face. He kept the
+bridle-rein in the same hand that held his trusty rifle on the pommel of
+his saddle, leaving the other free for any emergency--the emergency
+most frequently arising now being the persistent flapping of his
+hat-brim. The sun was two hours high at least and was fast dissolving
+the crystal covering that glittered above the denuded vegetation, when
+they came to the creek that flowed by the mountain cabins. Just beyond
+the creek rose the Twin Mountains, not more than a mile away, and the
+cabins were within a few hundred yards. They had traveled sixteen miles
+or thereabout that morning, and men and horses were weary with the rough
+riding. The creek was thickly fringed with timber, yet retaining the
+leaves, which the florist had turned from green to brown and gold. Uncle
+Dan paused, before the creek was reached, and urged his men to use their
+utmost caution, the objects of their search were in two cabins just
+beyond the stream.
+
+"One thing I want ye all to understand," he said, with great concern.
+"That gal, what the rebels took in, is in one of them cabins, and no
+shot must be fired into 'em for fear o' hurting her. Remember, not a
+hair o' her head must be touched."
+
+They halted, and Uncle Dan, with twelve picked men, dismounted and
+proceeded ahead on foot, while the others remained under cover, until a
+signal should be given to surround the cabins.
+
+It happened, that the red-headed rebel, Jackson, had gone to the stream
+with two pails to bring water for his wife. A thin skim of ice overlaid
+the stream, which Mr. Jackson must break in order to get his water. Not
+finding any stick or other implement at hand, he used the bottom of one
+of his pails, and the thumping and splashing made so much noise that our
+friend did not hear the footsteps gradually approaching him, and, so
+much engaged was he, that he did not observe two men in blue uniform
+standing just behind him until he had filled his pails and turned to go
+to the house.
+
+Had two ghosts suddenly started up before him, he could not have dropped
+his buckets more quickly.
+
+"Bless me!" gasped Jackson. "Where in the world did you come from?"
+
+Uncle Dan laid his hand on Jackson's shoulder telling him he was a
+prisoner.
+
+"Yes, I kinder expected that for some little time," he answered,
+looking about in blank astonishment, as the soldiers, one by one, stole
+noiselessly from among the thick bushes.
+
+"Do you belong to that house?" said Uncle Dan, pointing in the direction
+of the cabins.
+
+"I did," replied Jackson, bowing politely to the veteran scout, "before
+you took me in charge."
+
+"How many men are up there now!" asked Uncle Dan.
+
+"There are but seven, now, sir."
+
+"How many women?"
+
+"Two, sir."
+
+"Who are they?"
+
+"My wife, sir, and the wife of Captain Tompkins."
+
+"Wife of Captain Tompkins! When was he married?"
+
+"Yesterday, sir."
+
+"Is Oleah Tompkins your captain?"
+
+"He is, sir," with a polite bow.
+
+"Then, sir," said Uncle Dan with vehemence, "all I have to say is, that
+you have a d--d rascal for a captain."
+
+Mr. Jackson bowed in acknowledgment.
+
+"Where is Captain Tompkins now?"
+
+"He went back to the command, sir, but will be here in a few minutes
+with more men."
+
+"The infernal scoundrel!"
+
+Mr. Jackson bowed politely.
+
+"Bang!" came a musket-shot, and the ball whistled over the heads of the
+men grouped on the banks of the stream. The shot came from the direction
+of the cabins.
+
+Uncle Dan gave the signal, and the thunder of twenty horses' feet coming
+down the hill instantly followed.
+
+"Two of you stay and guard the prisoner, the rest follow me!" cried
+Uncle Dan, as he started up the hill, closely followed by his entire
+force, for every man was anxious to be in at the rescue, and every one
+expected that some one else would guard the prisoner, who, in
+consequence, was not guarded at all. Finding himself wholly deserted by
+the excited soldiery, Jackson hurried away down the stream. He looked
+injured and neglected, and slunk away, as in shame, from the men who so
+obstinately avoided his company.
+
+Uncle Dan never paused in his headlong pursuit of the flying enemy
+until he had reached the door of the cabin. Irene and Mrs. Jackson had
+been both surprised and terrified by the shouting and the discharge of
+firearms, but it was not until Uncle Dan stood in the doorway that
+either realized that Irene's rescue was the object of the attacking
+party.
+
+With a wild cry, Irene sprang from the cabin into the arms of the old
+scout.
+
+"Uncle Dan, Uncle Dan, take me home! Promise me you will take me home!"
+she cried as she clung to the veteran.
+
+"You bet I will, my little angel?" replied the old man, brushing the
+gathering moisture from his eyes. "How long have you been here?"
+
+"Night before last I was brought here."
+
+"Is there any one with you in the cabin?"
+
+"No one but a poor woman, who is frightened almost to death."
+
+"Well, wait here till I get my men together, and then I will hear all
+about this rascally business."
+
+When Irene went back into the cabin, it was her turn to comfort her
+companion with assurance of safety, but Mrs. Jackson was in an agony of
+dread as to the probable fate of her husband.
+
+Uncle Dan had no need to recall his men, for they were already returning
+from the useless pursuit of the flying Confederates, who were now
+ascending the mountain side a mile away.
+
+When he ordered them to bring up the prisoner, that had been captured at
+the creek, the soldiers looked inquiringly one at another; every one
+declared it was the business of some one else to have remained on guard.
+
+It soon became evident that no one had been left behind to care for the
+red-headed rebel, and that he had resented this lack of attention by
+departing. Uncle Dan instructed his sergeant to make preparations for
+immediate return to Snagtown and then went into the house.
+
+Mrs. Jackson met him with anxious inquiries if her husband had been
+killed.
+
+"What kinder man was he--red hair?"
+
+"Yes, oh yes! Is he dangerously wounded?"
+
+"And red eyebrows?"
+
+"Yes, yes, yes! Pray tell me the worst at once."
+
+"And red eyelashes--long and red?"
+
+"Yes, oh yes! Pray don't keep me in suspense."
+
+"And a red face?"
+
+"Yes, yes!"
+
+"And was carryin' two buckets for water?"
+
+"Oh, heavens! Yes. I know he is killed. Tell me where he lays that I may
+find him."
+
+"Madam," said Uncle Dan, gravely, "that red man made his escape, as well
+as all the others."
+
+The look of blank confusion and joyful amaze that overspread Mrs.
+Jackson's face was singular to behold. The old scout, having thus
+summarily disposed of Mrs. Jackson, turned to Irene and drew from her
+the relation of all that had happened to her since the evening she had
+left. When she had concluded with her forced marriage, she burst into
+tears.
+
+"The rascal!" said Uncle Dan, with energy. "Both a rascal and a fool.
+Where did he go?" he asked, after a moment's pause.
+
+"I do not know," said Irene, weeping softly. "He left a few minutes
+after, and I have not seen him since."
+
+"I don't know much about law," said Uncle Dan, after a few minutes'
+reflection, "but I know that ain't no wedding worth a cent."
+
+"I did not agree to it, I did not consent, but the clergyman pronounced
+us man and wife," sobbed Irene.
+
+"I don't care if he did, I heard a lawyer once say that marriage was a
+civil contract, and if any one was induced to marry by fraud, or forced
+to marry any one they did not want to, it was no good. Now, although I
+aint a lawyer, I know you aint married, unless you want to be."
+
+Irene still sat sobbing before the fire by the broad fire-place, which
+Uncle Dan's own hands had built.
+
+At this moment a soldier looked in and said:
+
+"The rebs are comin' down the mountains re-enforced."
+
+"Be quiet, honey, an' I'll see you are protected. Don't leave the cabin
+unless I tell you to."
+
+Uncle Dan hastened out, snatching his rifle from the door, as he went,
+and looked up towards the mountains. Twenty-five or thirty
+Confederates, headed by Oleah Tompkins, were riding at a gallop toward
+them.
+
+"They mean business, Uncle Dan," said a young man, who stood by the old
+man's side.
+
+"Yes, an' 'twouldn't s'prise me if some of them git business," replied
+the old man.
+
+"That is Oleah Tompkins at their head, Uncle Dan. You'll not shoot at
+him to hit?" said the youthful soldier.
+
+"I never thought the time would come when I would harm a hair o' his
+head, but things air changed now, and as Randolph said about Clay, 'if I
+see the devil in his eye, I'll shoot to kill,'" replied Uncle Dan,
+examining the priming of his rifle.
+
+"Fall in," commanded Uncle Dan.
+
+The line was formed.
+
+"Now wait till I fire an' then follor suit."
+
+Oleah presented a tempting mark for any rifle, as he approached so
+fearlessly with his revolver in his right hand. Uncle Dan, though not
+without a twinge of conscience at what he was doing, leveled his deadly
+rifle at that head, which, when a child, had so often nestled on his
+breast.
+
+Uncle Dan was a certain shot at that range, and every step Oleah took
+was bringing him to surer death. Unconscious of his danger, or perfectly
+reckless of consequences, the young Confederate urged his powerful black
+horse on. The old man held his heavy rifle in the palm of his right
+hand, the breech was balanced against his right shoulder, and his aim
+was as steady and true as if he were sighting a deer, instead of a human
+being he had known for years and loved from childhood.
+
+"The d--d rascal!" he hissed between his clenched teeth. "He's ruined
+the gal, and now he shall die."
+
+Just as his finger touched the trigger, Irene sprang from the doorway
+and struck the rifle from its intended mark. The ball whizzled two feet
+above the head of the Confederate captain.
+
+"What do you mean?" said the old man, turning, in sharp surprise.
+
+A roar of rifle-shots drowned any reply that Irene might have made.
+
+Oleah had escaped the deadly bullet of the old scout, but some of the
+many shots, that immediately followed, struck him. The revolver dropped
+from his hand, his horse reared and plunged in terror, and then both
+rider and steed fell, a helpless mass, to the ground.
+
+Then all eyes were astonished at the sight of a slender figure, with
+loosened hair streaming in the wind, hastening through the deadly shower
+of balls to the fallen man's side; and all ears were astonished by her
+wild cry:
+
+"Spare, oh, spare his life! _He is my husband!_"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+AT HOME AGAIN.
+
+
+When their leader fell, the Confederate cavalry wheeled about and
+galloped away toward the mountain. Uncle Dan ordered his men to cease
+firing, as Irene was directly between them and the flying enemy, and her
+life would be endangered by every shot.
+
+Stunned, confounded, and nonplussed by Irene's sudden and unexpected
+action, the old man, without loading his rifle, hurried after her. She
+was kneeling by the side of the insensible soldier, holding his bleeding
+head on her knee. The horse was struggling in the last throes of death,
+the blood streaming from two wounds in his breast. Oleah had fallen
+clear of his horse and had struck his head in falling on a large stone.
+
+"Speak to me, oh! speak to me, Oleah!" cried Irene, bending over him.
+"Oh, my love, it is I who have killed you! Save him, Uncle Dan. He must
+not die!"
+
+"I fear he'll never speak again," said Uncle Dan. He said no more, for
+with one wild, long shriek the poor girl swooned on the breast of him
+whom not even the avowal of her love could thrill.
+
+"Come here, some o' you fellars what's a loafin' about there?"
+commanded the old scout, as half a dozen soldiers approached the place.
+
+The men were soon at his side.
+
+"Now, some o' you pick up that gal, and the rest o' ye that fellar and
+take 'em to the house. Lift 'em gently as though they were babies. This
+has been a sorry job."
+
+The soldiers obeyed, and Uncle Dan followed the group with both sorrow
+and amazement plainly visible on his features. They carefully laid Irene
+on the bed and called Mrs. Jackson to attend her, while Uncle Dan and
+another member of the company examined the injuries of Oleah. They found
+a gun-shot wound in his right side under his right arm. A rifle-ball had
+passed through the muscles of his right arm, between the elbow and the
+shoulder, but no bones were shattered and the wound was not a dangerous
+one. The cut on the head, caused by being thrown against the stone as he
+fell, seemed more serious, but an examination soon convinced them that
+it might not be fatal. They dressed the wounded arm and washed the blood
+from his head, and he began to show signs of returning consciousness
+just as Irene, recovered from her swoon, started up, crying:
+
+"Where is he, where is he?"
+
+"Here he is on the floor beside you," replied Mrs. Jackson. "Lie still
+until you are better."
+
+"No, no," she replied, putting aside Mrs. Jackson's restraining hand.
+"Let me go to my husband! Lay him on the bed," she said to the men.
+
+"What kind of a deuced change has come over that gal," thought Uncle
+Dan. "She hated him like pizen afore he got hurt, but now she loves him
+to distraction."
+
+"Please, Uncle Dan," pleaded Irene, "have him put on the bed, he must
+not lie on that hard floor when he is wounded!"
+
+"Boys, lift him up on the bed. She shall have her way."
+
+Oleah, still unconscious, though breathing more freely, was placed on
+the bed. His head had been bandaged, and a soldier stood by his side
+dropping cold water on the wound from a cup.
+
+"Give me the water," said Irene. "I am his wife."
+
+As Irene took her station by his side, the wounded soldier opened his
+eyes, and vacantly stared upon the group in the room. Irene bent over
+him, with her soul in her eyes; his eyes rested on her with no gleam of
+recognition for a moment, and then feebly closed again.
+
+Uncle Dan had ordered a litter made and four men now entered with it,
+and reported that everything was ready for departure. Oleah was placed
+upon the litter, and Irene rode beside it, half the men preceding it and
+half following. Mrs. Jackson, at her earnest request, had been left at
+the cabin, and the guarded litter was not two miles on its way before
+her red-headed husband came from the woods, suave and smiling, and the
+two hurried away toward the gap between the Twin Mountains. When next
+heard of the Jackson family was at Colonel Scrabble's camp.
+
+The movements of Uncle Dan were necessarily slow, and it was late at
+night when they arrived at the plantation. Irene with Uncle Dan rode
+forward to prepare the planter and his wife for Oleah's coming, the
+others following slowly. We will not attempt to describe the scene that
+followed--their joy at Irene's return, their astonishment at her story,
+their anxious alarm when she told them of Oleah's condition. She had
+hardly ceased speaking, when they heard in the hall the slow, heavy
+tread of men who carried a helpless burden. A fever had set in, and
+Oleah was in a critical condition. A messenger was despatched to
+Snagtown for the family physician, and Uncle Dan left his prisoner and
+returned to his command at the Junction.
+
+For ten weary days and nights Oleah was unconscious or raving in the
+delirium of fever, and during all that time Irene was at his side, his
+constant attendant. When the fever had subsided and the man, once so
+imperious in his youthful strength, lay weak and helpless as an infant,
+but conscious at last, she was still at this post.
+
+It was on a cold, still Winter evening. The snow lay white over the
+landscape, but candlelight and firelight made all bright and warm
+within. As Irene returned from drawing the heavy curtains, he opened his
+eyes and fixed them on her, as he had done many times during his long
+illness but this was not a wild vacant stare, it was a look of
+recognition. His lips moved, but her ear failed to catch the feeble,
+fluttering sound. She eagerly bent her head. Again his lips moved.
+
+"Irene!" was the faint whisper.
+
+"Do you know me, Oleah, do you know me?" she asked, tears of joy shining
+in her eyes.
+
+Only his eyes answered her. Stooping she pressed a kiss on his pale
+lips. With a smile of perfect content he raised his weak arm and put it
+about her neck.
+
+But there were other anxious hearts to be relieved, and Irene left him
+for a moment, went swiftly through the hall, and her glad voice broke
+the silence of the room where sat father and mother and physician:
+
+"He will live! He will live! He knows me now."
+
+They hastened to the sick-room. The favorable change was plainly
+visible, though the patient could not speak above a whisper and only a
+few words at a time. The doctor issued peremptory orders to keep him
+quiet and to let him have as much sleep as he could get.
+
+The recovery was slow and for several days yet not certain. The Winter
+was well nigh spent before Oleah was sufficiently recovered to be
+conveyed to the Junction. His young wife accompanied him.
+
+Oleah was detained a few days before his parole could be signed and then
+he was allowed to return. During the time he was in the Union camp, the
+brothers were frequently thrown together, but not a word escaped their
+lips of welcome or recognition. Abner passed silently and coldly by and
+Oleah maintained the indifferent bearing of a stranger. Irene saw this
+complete estrangement and it embittered all her joy.
+
+On the day Oleah was paroled and was about to return home, Abner's
+company was on drill. The sleigh passed the drill-ground and so near the
+captain that his brother might have touched him with his hand. Abner,
+seeing who was passing, drew his cloak about his shoulders and turned
+coldly away. Winter passed and Spring came with its blooming flowers and
+singing birds. And not only the flowers awoke, and bird songs thrilled
+the air, armies, that had lain dormant all Winter, were in motion and
+the noise of battle was renewed.
+
+The farmers tilled the soil. Negroes, boys, and old men, and even women
+toiled at the plows, while fathers and brothers, and husbands and sons
+were engaged in grimmer work.
+
+Oleah had been exchanged at last and had joined his company, leaving his
+young wife to use all gentle endeavor to comfort and cheer the father
+and mother, who watched with sorrowful anxiety the movements of both
+armies.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+ANOTHER PHASE OF SOLDIER LIFE.
+
+
+A long line of muddy wagons, and a longer line of muddy soldiers was
+moving southward. It was one of those dark, cold, rainy days in March,
+when the elements above, the earth beneath, the winds about, seem to
+conspire to make man miserable, and surely no men could have looked more
+miserable than the long line of muddy soldiers. Some were mounted, but
+the largest number by far were infantry and plodded along on foot.
+Various were the moods of the soldiers. Some were gay, singing,
+laughing, telling jokes; others were silent and morose, complaining and
+cursing their hard lot. The latter class were termed professional
+"growlers" by their comrades. One light-hearted fellow declared that any
+one, who would complain at their lot, would be capable of grumbling at
+the prospect of being hanged.
+
+A fine, persistent rain had been falling nearly all day, and the men
+were cold and wet and tired plodding through the mud.
+
+Two soldiers were toiling along behind an ammunition wagon, one with the
+stripes of corporal on his sleeves, the other a private.
+
+"I don't mind fighting or being shot," said the private, a young man and
+evidently a new recruit, "but the idea of a man's dragging himself apart
+and scattering the pieces along in the mud in this fashion is decidedly
+disagreeable."
+
+"No danger of that," said his companion, who was no other than the
+irrepressible Corporal Grimm.
+
+"Isn't, eh? I tell you my legs are coming unjointed at the knees, and
+I'll soon be going on the stumps."
+
+"Yer not used to this," said Corporal Grimm. "I tell ye, when ye get
+used to it, this is nuthin'. Why, when I was with General Preston, we
+traveled so fur and so long in the quicksand, and our legs became so
+loose at the knees, that we had to run straps under the soles of our
+boots and strap our legs tight to our bodies, or we would have lost 'em
+sure."
+
+"Well, I shall have to go to strapping mine soon, I am certain," said
+the young soldier with an incredulous smile.
+
+"Them was awful times when I was out with General Preston!" said the
+corporal, shaking his head in sad reminiscence.
+
+Abner Tompkins was with this train, but having sprained his ankle, he
+was unable to ride his horse, and had been placed in a wagon. All day
+long it had rumbled and jolted over the hills of Southern Virginia, and
+he was tired, sick, and faint with the constant motion. He leaned
+against the side of the wagon and gazed out from under the cover. He saw
+a long line of slow-moving, muddy wagons, and to the right a long line
+of infantry, some of the men wet and weary as they were singing.
+
+Passing one part of the line, he heard a not unmusical voice caroling:
+
+
+     "Oh, that darling little girl, that pretty little girl,
+     The girl I left behind me."
+
+
+Further a chorus of voices joined in:
+
+
+     "All the world is cold and dreary
+     Everywhere I roam."
+
+
+These suddenly hushed, when the song was completed, and one poor boy,
+determined to rouse the drooping spirits of his comrades, was heard
+trying to sing "Annie Laurie."
+
+This was soon interrupted by some wild fellow, who broke out with:
+
+
+     "Raccoon up a gum-stump, opposum up a holler"--
+
+
+Next came "Rally round the flag, boys," roared out by half a hundred
+throats, and all the popular songs of the day were sung as solos, duets
+or choruses--all, except "Dixie," for this was not a "Dixie" crowd.
+
+"Poor fellows!" sighed Abner, as he lay back on his couch in the wagon.
+"Enjoy your jokes and songs if you can; it is small comfort that awaits
+you. Your only beds will be wet earth to-night, your only covering the
+lowering clouds of heaven."
+
+Night was fast approaching, and the division commander sent men ahead to
+determine a suitable location for encampment. A field, with wood and
+water close by, was selected, and the soldiers soon spread over it.
+Camp-fires gleamed bright in the darkness, pickets were stationed and
+guards thrown around the camp.
+
+Abner, who was unable to walk without the aid of a crutch, gave his
+instructions for the night and then returned to the wagon, where he was
+to sleep. It was not an ambulance wagon, but simply a baggage-wagon,
+with a couch arranged within for the captain.
+
+The wide, desolate field, with its hundreds of blackened stumps, gnarled
+snags, and drenched and matted grass, soon presented an exciting and not
+an uncheerful scene. The artillery and ammunition wagons were drawn up
+in a hollow square in the centre of the camp, and the baggage-wagons
+formed a circle about them. Then over all the broad acres of the field,
+from its farthest hilly border to the ravines beyond, hundreds of
+camp-fires blazed. The fences for miles disappeared, and roots and snags
+vanished as if by magic.
+
+Abner was a patient sufferer, and, when the regimental surgeon came with
+his lantern on one arm and his box of instruments, medicines, and
+plasters on the other, he underwent, without a groan, the dressing and
+bandaging, firmly resolving not to have any more sprained ankles to be
+dressed, if he could avoid it.
+
+"Captain--hem, hem!--Captain Tompkins," said a voice, as a head was
+thrust in the wagon front.
+
+"Well, what will you have?"
+
+"Are you alone?"
+
+"Yes, come in."
+
+Abner had lighted a small piece of candle, which he had placed on a box
+at the head of his couch.
+
+A little round-faced man, with glasses on his nose, entered the wagon
+and seated himself on a camp-stool near the box, on which the captain
+had placed his light.
+
+"Well, Diggs, we have had a disagreeable day for marching."
+
+"Yes, captain," said the little fellow, removing a greasy sutler's cap.
+"It has thoroughly satisfied me that I am not for the army. A soldier's
+life may suit coarser natures, but one such as mine, one that recoils
+from uncleanliness and confusion, and death by torture, should not be
+brought in daily contact with sights and sounds so repellant."
+
+"I thought," said Corporal Grimm, who had just come to the wagon front,
+"that you had resolved to become a preacher."
+
+Mr. Diggs turned towards the new-comer with an unuttered oath.
+
+The corporal's laugh brought half a dozen soldiers to his side.
+
+"Didn't you tell that preacher, that prayed a week for you, that you had
+talent for a preacher, and that you would be one if only you got out of
+that scrape?"
+
+"What's the use of bringing up those old things again?" said Mr. Diggs,
+angrily. "I--hem, hem!--feel satisfied that my real vocation lies in the
+editorial field. I think I shall try my hand in the newspaper business."
+
+"Better try preaching first. Maybe you can assist the chaplain next
+Sunday."
+
+The little greasy sutler's clerk flew into a rage and left the wagon,
+cursing the fates that would not give him renown.
+
+Diggs having gone, the rest also withdrew, but Abner was not yet to have
+the rest he so much needed. Scarcely had they gone before the entrance
+of the wagon was darkened again, this time by that strange person we
+have known as Yellow Steve. Abner had not seen him since the day he
+prevented the combat between himself and his brother in the forest,
+between Snagtown and the Twin Mountains.
+
+"Well, sir," he demanded, "what are you doing here, more than two
+hundred miles from your usual place of abode."
+
+"Forests and mountains everywhere are my usual place of abode, and have
+been for the last eighteen years."
+
+"You have been a slave," said Abner.
+
+"Yes, sir, and for eighteen years a fugitive. I have become accustomed
+to constant flying, to battling blood-hounds and their no less brutal
+owners, to all the mysteries of wood craft. Many are the bloodhounds
+that I have put to death, and have sent more than a few negro hunters
+plunging over the steep cascades and mountain sides to certain death.
+For eighteen years my life has been devoted to the liberation of my poor
+race, and I can number by hundreds the fugitives whom I have induced to
+leave their masters and have guided to where freedom awaited them."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"I am the sutler's steward, and, strange as you may think it, Captain
+Tompkins, I have come with the regiment on purpose to be near you. I
+have a story, a sad, dark story to tell you, that will strike you with
+wonder and horror. In these times life is uncertain and I must be near
+you when my time comes. I have written it, and the manuscript can not be
+lost; my trunk, in the sutler's camp, holds it."
+
+The strange being was gone, and Abner was left alone to wonder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+A PRISONER.
+
+
+The year 1862 passed, darkened by battle smoke, saddened by the groans
+of the dying, the tears shed over the dead. Abner Tompkins had been
+acting principally in Eastern Virginia, Maryland and Kentucky. His
+regiment had suffered severely in some of McClellan's hardest fought
+battles. His colonel had been killed at Fair Oaks on the 31st of May,
+1862, and Captain Tompkins had been promoted to the vacant place.
+
+It was the 2nd of May, 1863, and Abner and his command, now under
+General Hooker, having crossed the Rappahannock and Rapidan rivers, were
+advancing on Chancellorville, to meet a powerful Confederate force under
+Stonewall Jackson.
+
+Yellow Steve, who was still the sutler's steward on the morning of the
+first day's fight at Chancellorsville, came to the Colonel's tent, just
+as he was preparing to take charge of his regiment.
+
+"Well, Steve," said Abner, "we shall have some work to do to-day."
+
+"I should be surprised, colonel, if we don't," was the reply.
+
+"Do you think those fellows over there will fight?"
+
+"I think they will, their guns shine bright enough, and they look
+dangerous. I went over there this morning before daylight, and I can
+tell you, it will be nasty getting into that town."
+
+"You over there, Steve? What do you mean?"
+
+"I often go over to the rebel camp," said Steve, coolly.
+
+"Do you know that is very dangerous?"
+
+"I do not value my life very highly; it has not been worth a straw for
+eighteen years; all that ever was good within me has been crushed out by
+the very men who carry those bayonets over yonder. I have a feeling that
+my time has come and that you will know my story when the fight is
+over."
+
+The long roll of the drum was heard calling to the field.
+
+"I must be going now, Steve," said the colonel, buckling on his sword,
+"but I will see you when the fight is over, if I live."
+
+Colonel Tompkins mounted his horse, and took his place at the head of
+his regiment. The order had been extended along the entire line to
+advance, Abner was ordered forward to support a battery on the extreme
+right, which was being thrown forward to drive a body of the enemy out
+of the woods. The battery unlimbered when within point-blank range, and,
+after the first three or four rounds, the enemy fell back. As the order
+to advance had been countermanded, the intrepid young colonel pushed his
+forces to the edge of the wood, pouring in a galling fire on the enemy.
+By this time the Eleventh Corps, to which Abner's regiment belonged, was
+fiercely engaged. The enemy poured forth twenty thousand strong and
+hurled themselves on the Eleventh, which was composed in great part of
+raw recruits. The attack was fierce, and the Eleventh, being somewhat
+taken by surprise, were soon forced to fall back.
+
+Colonel Tompkins' regiment had advanced three or four hundred yards
+beyond the main body of troops, and the falling back of the corps was
+not noticed until the enemy had them almost surrounded and were pouring
+in showers of grape and canister, while the face of the earth seemed
+ablaze with musketry.
+
+"Colonel," cried the adjutant, galloping up to Col. Tompkins, "that
+infernal Eleventh is routed. They are in flight."
+
+Abner's glance swept over the field. He was loth to give up the ground
+he had won, but they were almost surrounded. Things looked desperate.
+They must cut their way through and fly with the others or surrender.
+Rising in his stirrups, and waving his sword, the colonel shouted in
+thunder tones which were heard by the entire regiment:
+
+"Yonder is our army. To remain here is death. Cut your way through,
+every man for himself!"
+
+A wild cry went up, and the retreat commenced. As the colonel resumed
+his seat in his saddle a shell exploded in his horse's face, and, with
+one wild plunge, rider and steed fell to the earth, the horse struggling
+in death, the master struck senseless by a fragment of the shell; in a
+moment more rebel infantry were pouring over the place in quick pursuit
+of the flying soldiers.
+
+Abner was only stunned by the shock and fall, and his men were scarcely
+driven from the field when he sat up and gazed around on the scene of
+desolation. The roar of battle could be heard in the distance; beside
+him lay his dead horse, and all the field was strewn with men and
+horses, dead and dying.
+
+He wiped away the blood, that was flowing from a wound in his forehead,
+and tried to rise to his feet. A Confederate officer, seeing his
+endeavor, advanced and said:
+
+"Are you badly hurt, colonel?"
+
+"I think it is only a scratch," replied Abner, holding his handkerchief
+to his head, "but it bleeds quite freely."
+
+"Let me assist you to bandage your head, and then we will retire to the
+rear." He bound Abner's handkerchief about his head, assisted him to
+rise, and offered him his arm.
+
+"No, I thank you," said Abner, "I can walk alone; I am only a little
+stunned."
+
+"I shall be compelled to take your sword, colonel," said the lieutenant.
+
+"I am glad," said Abner, handing it to him, "that if I must surrender,
+it is to a gentleman."
+
+Abner was conveyed to the rear of the Confederate army. During that day
+and part of the next the battle raged, but Hooker was finally compelled
+to fall back, with a loss of eleven thousand men; the enemy, however,
+suffered an irreparable loss in the death of Stonewall Jackson, who was
+mortally wounded and died in a few days after. The affair was kept
+secret in the rebel army as long as possible, and there is yet a
+difference of opinion as to how he met his death, some asserting that he
+was accidentally shot by his own pickets, others that he was killed by
+sharpshooters, while reconnoitering, and still others claim that he was
+assassinated.
+
+The fourth day after the battle, several hundred prisoners, Abner among
+them, were brought before the provost-marshal, their names demanded and
+placed on a large roll. As Abner was standing in the ranks he observed a
+Confederate officer near him. There was something familiar about his
+figure, and Abner, looking up quickly, recognized his brother. A swift
+impulse swept over him, a longing to speak to him, to hear his voice, to
+break down--to sweep away, with passionate appeal, this monstrous
+barrier. But he smothered the impulse; his brother might think him
+imploring clemency at his hands, and _that_ he would never do.
+
+Oleah's look was only the indifferent glance of a stranger, and he
+passed on and made no sign.
+
+It was no jealous rivalry that held these brothers apart. Abner felt no
+bitterness that his brother had won the gentle Irene's love; his feeling
+for her had not been the one overpowering love of a lifetime, and now he
+looked after Oleah with the brotherly affection, so long suppressed,
+welling anew in his heart, and deplored their hopeless estrangement,
+little dreaming that Irene had come to blame herself as the cause. But
+Irene was wrong; it was a deeper and deadly passion than love of her
+that had worked this evil miracle--a passion which had been roused in
+one son by the father's words, in the other by the mother's, which had
+grown in intensity, stirring up their very souls within them, and at
+last overcoming all other feelings.
+
+Colonel Tompkins' name was enrolled on the prison list, and he was
+marched away with the other prisoners.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+OLIVIA.
+
+
+Abner was kept but a few days at Chancellorville, when he was sent to
+Libby prison. Here he remained but a few weeks, when, from some cause,
+or no cause, unless the hope that change of climate would prove fatal,
+he was removed to Mobile. Here he was confined for four months during
+the hottest weather; but, Mobile being threatened, he was removed to a
+small town in the eastern part of Louisiana, about fifty or sixty miles
+north of New Orleans, and near the headwaters of Lake Ponchartrain; here
+he was confined in a small stone jail. The town was nearly all French,
+and the regiment stationed there were nearly all of French or Spanish
+descent.
+
+The colonel of the regiment, Castello Mortimer, was a citizen of the
+town. He had formerly been one of the cotton kings of New Orleans; but,
+on the capture of that city, had removed to Bay's End, where he had a
+large cotton plantation. Colonel Mortimer was half Spanish and half
+French, a portly man, open-hearted and pleasant of countenance, with
+kindly black eyes and thick, iron gray hair.
+
+He was regarded as a generous, whole-souled man, although he had his
+bitter prejudices. He was a most uncompromising rebel, and, although he
+knew very little about military tactics, was brave and chivalrous. He
+owned an untold number of slaves, and countless acres of cotton fields.
+
+Colonel Mortimer had received his commission, not on account of his
+ability as a soldier, but on account of his wealth, and, as he was
+thought not fitted for active service, he was assigned to guard this
+out-of-the-way place, called Bay's End, and prisoners were brought and
+left there to be guarded and kept by him. Those brought to the
+colonel's camp fared well, considering the general treatment accorded
+prisoners. They were furnished with clean straw to sleep on, and their
+food, though not always the amplest in quantity, or the best in quality,
+was the best that, in the distressed condition of the country, could be
+afforded.
+
+Here Abner lingered for two or three months. The glorious tropical
+Winter was coming on; the sun was losing his fiercer heat, and his rays
+fell with mellowed luster on the earth. The orange and citron groves
+made the air sweet with their perfume. The fields were yet white with
+cotton; but there were no slaves left now to gather it. A number of
+negroes, hired and forced, and whom the boon of freedom had not yet
+reached, were at work in and near Bay's End.
+
+Colonel Mortimer was anxious about his cotton; as some of the negroes
+were constantly escaping and flying to the North, he kept a small body
+of soldiers detailed to watch them, while they worked in the fields.
+
+Bay's End was a beautiful village, situated on rising ground, that
+overlooked distant bayous, lagoons, lakes and sluggish streams, where
+the alligator reveled in his glory. The colonel had selected the
+village, on account of its healthy location, for his country residence.
+He had here a spacious mansion, such as only a Southerner knows how to
+construct; and here, every Autumn, he came with his beautiful Spanish
+wife. But she had died years before, and the colonel's family consisted
+of only one daughter, now a young lady.
+
+At the end of three months, after Abner's arrival at Bay's End, Colonel
+Mortimer appeared one morning at his cell door.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "I shall be compelled to remove you from here. More
+prisoners are coming, and there is not room for all in this little jug."
+
+"I hope, sir, that you will give me accommodations as good as I have at
+present," replied Abner.
+
+"I shall be compelled to take you to my own house, every other place
+being occupied," said the fat, old colonel, with a merry twinkle in his
+black eyes.
+
+"Surely, if I fare as well as my jailer, I can not complain," said
+Abner.
+
+He followed Colonel Mortimer from the prison, and stood still for a
+moment, looking about him in the glorious sunshine, up and down the
+shaded street, and at the beautiful orange groves in the distance. Never
+had nature seemed so beautiful to him before. For weeks at a time he had
+not seen the light of the sun, except through grates, for the rays that
+had struggled into his dungeon were shorn of their splendor. Now all the
+beauty of a tropical clime burst on him at once--the fields of cotton,
+the cloudless sky and the sweet scent of flowers, that continually bloom
+in this land of endless Summer.
+
+"Oh, beautiful, beautiful!" murmured the prisoner, a moisture gathering
+in his eyes.
+
+"What is beautiful?" asked the colonel, who was by his side; two
+soldiers walking in the rear.
+
+"This world, which God has given us," was the reply.
+
+"Yes, it is a beautiful world," said the rebel.
+
+"But we know not how to appreciate it, until we have been for a while
+deprived of the sight of its beauties," answered Abner.
+
+"Yonder is my home," said the Confederate, pointing to a large granite
+building. "It is not, perhaps, in strict accordance with military
+discipline, to keep a prisoner in one's own house, but I have no other
+place for you."
+
+"I wish your home was farther away," said Abner.
+
+"Why, sir?"
+
+"That I might longer enjoy the free air and sunshine."
+
+The tender-hearted old colonel wiped his face vigorously with his red
+bandana, and the rest of the journey was made in silence.
+
+On entering the house, the colonel took his prisoner into a reception
+room, opening from the hall, to wait until his prison room could be made
+ready.
+
+"You will be granted some privileges here, that you have not had
+before," said the colonel. "You will be permitted to walk in the grounds
+once in every two or three days for an hour or so."
+
+"I shall be very grateful to you for the favor, Colonel Mortimer," said
+Abner.
+
+At this moment his quick ear caught the sound of a gay girlish voice on
+the stairway, and the swish of silken draperies. Then the door opened
+and a young girl entered. She cast a quick, surprised glance about the
+room, as one will, entering a room supposed to be vacant, to find
+therein a stranger. For a moment she hesitated.
+
+"Come in, Olivia," said the colonel. "My dear, this is our prisoner,
+Colonel Tompkins. My daughter, colonel!"
+
+A look of sorrowing compassion instantly clouded that sweet face--the
+sweetest Abner had ever looked on.
+
+Olivia Mortimer was one of those Southern women, over whose beauty
+novelists wax enthusiastic, poets rave and painters dream and despair.
+
+Abner forgot that he was a prisoner, forgot past hardships and future
+peril, forgot all but this beautiful, unexpected vision, with
+outstretched hand, and pitying eyes, and sweet, low voice, that made the
+heart throb wildly, that had kept its even beat amid the blasting of
+bugles and the sullen roar of cannon. He blushed like an awkward
+school-boy, as he bowed before her queenly little figure.
+
+"I am very sorry to see you a prisoner," she said. "It must be very hard
+to suffer confinement; to know that the flowers bloom and the birds
+sing, without being able to partake of their joy."
+
+The gentle words betrayed a heart, kind and womanly. Abner felt that to
+lay down his life at her feet would be the highest bliss a man might
+hope for.
+
+"I assure you, Miss Mortimer, that prison life is not desirable, but I
+am more fortunate than most prisoners, while I have your father for my
+jailer, and his mansion for my jail, I can well endure my captivity."
+
+"Colonel," said the old Confederate impulsively, "I have a notion to
+parole you and give you the freedom of the place. It will be pleasanter
+for you and easier for me."
+
+"For such a privilege, sir, I should be grateful indeed. I already owe
+much to your generosity, but this I can hardly realize."
+
+"And I shall make Olivia your jailer," said the old colonel, with a
+quiet laugh, that caused his frame to quiver like agitated jelly.
+
+"Then, sir, my imprisonment will be no punishment at all, but rather a
+lot to be envied," replied Abner.
+
+"My dear, do you think you can guard a man who has led a thousand
+soldiers to the field of battle?" said the old colonel, with another
+quiet laugh.
+
+"He don't look dangerous, papa, and I can find him sufficient
+occupation; busy people, you know, are not apt to get into mischief."
+
+"Do you comprehend, colonel?" said Colonel Mortimer. "She means to make
+you a galley slave as well as a prisoner."
+
+"Even such servitude, under such a mistress, would be a pleasure,"
+answered Abner.
+
+The old Confederate, being part French, was polite, being part Spanish,
+was chivalrous, and, when he had taken it into his head to treat his
+prisoner well, seemed unable to do enough for him. So Abner remained in
+the colonel's mansion, hardly realizing that he was a prisoner, treated
+rather as a guest. Since he had been brought to the house of the
+commander at Bay's End, Abner had greatly improved in his personal
+appearance. By chance he had retained a suit of undress colonel's
+uniform, which had not been soiled by the dampness of prison. He had
+been close shaved, excepting his light-colored mustache, and he had his
+hair trimmed by Colonel Mortimer's own barber. Still when in the
+presence of the Confederate's beautiful daughter, he always lost his
+self possession; his conversational powers, and, in fact, his common
+sense, seemed suddenly to desert him. He could only listen in silence,
+or make disjointed, incoherent replies.
+
+Olivia sympathized with the poor prisoner, who was so far from home and
+friends. She did every thing in her power to cheer him, she
+misunderstanding his feelings and attributing his silence and sadness to
+the hardships he had suffered during his imprisonment and his long
+absence from home. She sang and played for him, she read to him, she
+walked and talked with him, revealing all her past history, telling him
+of the years she had passed in one of the New England seminaries, of her
+mother's death in her early girlhood, and of many incidents in her
+bright pleasant life, to which the war as yet had brought no bitterness.
+
+It was several weeks, after Colonel Mortimer had brought Abner to his
+home, that the shattered remnant of a Confederate regiment, passing
+through the village, paused to rest. There were not over three hundred
+men in the regiment fit for duty, and some of these were battle-scarred.
+Colonel Mortimer invited the commander of this brave little band to his
+house. He informed his prisoner and his daughter that a very brave and
+distinguished officer would dine with them that day--a young man, a
+brigadier-general--he could not recall the name, but they would meet him
+at dinner. Abner and his fair jailer were in the garden when the guest
+arrived, for, although it was in the month of February, the weather on
+this particular day was fine, and the garden was yet a pleasant resort.
+
+They went together towards the house, and, passing the low, open window,
+saw the rebel general engaged in conversation with Colonel Mortimer--a
+young man, with fierce, black eyes, black hair and black moustache.
+
+It was his brother. Abner turned suddenly pale. He detained Olivia for a
+moment, told her that he had been taken suddenly ill, begged her to make
+his excuses to her father, and left her at the door of the dining-room.
+The distinguished general dined, and, later on, left with the gallant
+remnant of his regiment. Olivia was too much rejoiced at the prisoner's
+rapid recovery to inquire into its cause.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+THE ALARM--THE MANUSCRIPT.
+
+
+The fountain gleamed beneath the beams of the Southern moon, gentle
+ripples stirred the waves on the lake below, and the soft breezes wafted
+sweetest perfumes through the splendid gardens of Colonel Mortimer.
+Spring had come--Spring more than beautiful in this tropical clime.
+
+Months had passed since last we saw Colonel Tompkins and his beautiful
+jailer, who now stand side by side by the splashing fountain. To him
+these months had seemed like a dream of heaven.
+
+Never did he believe that such surpassing happiness could fall to the
+lot of any human being. Even now, at times, it did not seem real. When
+he paused to reflect, he thought it must be some delightful dream, that
+would pass and take with it all the brightness of life. Could there be
+on the face of this earth a being so lovely; a mansion, a village, a
+country so perfectly delightful? Was it not some wild imagination of
+some artist, that had turned his brain?
+
+No, it was all real. Olivia was not paint and canvas, but flesh and
+blood; a living reality, though face and form were so beautiful; her
+voice was sweetest music, and her soul pure as her perfect face. Young
+as she was, Olivia had had many suitors, but the pale young officer from
+Virginia, with his handsome, melancholy face, had won her heart. Perhaps
+it was pity that first stirred her soul--pity for the poor prisoner so
+far from home and friends; pity for his former sufferings, and
+admiration for his brave record.
+
+He had apparently succeeded in overcoming the mood that had held him
+silent and abashed in her presence, for now, as they stand in the pale
+moonlight and listen to the murmuring fountain, which seems, like their
+own hearts, to overflow for very gladness, the arm of the young colonel
+in blue clasps the yielding form of his jailer, and it is he who speaks,
+and she who listens in silence.
+
+Darkness fell over the lake as they lingered. A light moved over the
+dark waters. The lovers saw it not. Another light and yet another
+appeared, first mere luminous points or stars, but gradually growing in
+size as they approached. No one, certainly not the inhabitants of Bay's
+End, would have dreamed of a floating battery of steamers crossing that
+shallow lake.
+
+For days the Union forces had been busy damming up all the outlets of
+the lake, and the water had been gradually rising, occasioning
+considerable comment among the inhabitants.
+
+Slowly the lights glided over the dark face of the waters. As they came
+nearer, they grew in size, and beneath them were defined the hulk of
+three monster gunboats, sweeping up towards the village. The sentry gave
+the alarm.
+
+Simultaneously with the alarm came a great blinding flash from one of
+the monsters of the water; then a ball of fire circled through the air,
+and an explosion shook the village to its centre. Another, another, and
+another shell, hurled from the gunboats, came curving through the air
+and exploded in the streets of the village.
+
+Abner cast a quick glance around, seeking some place of safety for the
+terrified Olivia. The stone fence that bounded the grounds seemed to
+offer the most inviting retreat at present. Scarcely had he placed the
+frightened girl on the opposite side of the wall than a shell exploded
+in the fountain, tearing the water nymphs to pieces and scattering
+fragments far and wide; then a solid shot struck the mansion.
+
+At this moment a rocket shot up skyward, leaving a long red tail, from
+the palmetto and orange groves at the north of the village, and wild
+cheers went up from a land force on that side. The bombardment from the
+gunboats ceased.
+
+"What is it, what is it?" cried the terrified girl.
+
+"Don't be frightened," answered Abner. "You will be quite safe here."
+
+"But what is that awful noise? Is the lake blowing up? Is an earthquake
+coming?"
+
+"No, it is gunboats bombarding the town."
+
+"Then, let us hasten to the house. We shall be killed here," she cried.
+
+"No, no, Olivia, that would not do," he answered, "for they will make
+the house an especial mark, it being the largest building in the
+village. Here is the safest place we can find for the present."
+
+The wild yells of land troops, as they advanced on the village, again
+rose on the air.
+
+The poor girl looked questionably at her companion, speechless with
+terror.
+
+"They are soldiers, who have come around by land, and are advancing on
+the village."
+
+"Oh, let me go! I must go home, I must go to my father!"
+
+She struggled wildly in Abner's grasp, for he held her fast.
+
+"Just listen to me one moment, Olivia," he entreated. "Can you not trust
+me? I tell you truly that the most dangerous place in town is at your
+father's house. Already a cannon ball has struck it, and if the present
+sortie is repulsed the cannonade will be instantly resumed, and it will
+be battered down."
+
+"But my father is there!"
+
+"No, he is in the village, forming his men to meet the attack. This is
+the only place of safety for you. They will scarcely throw any shells
+over here, and the fight will be on the other hill."
+
+Bay's End was in a state of confusion. Colonel Mortimer was aroused by
+the first cannon shot, and was making ready for the attack. The long
+roll of the drum and the trumpets sounded, and the half-dressed
+Confederates fell hastily into line. Colonel Mortimer had the three
+field pieces in his camp turned on the gunboats, and they belched forth
+fire and smoke at the monsters, making the very earth shake. But their
+most deadly foe now was the land force, which was coming down in a solid
+column.
+
+From behind the stone wall Abner could see the old Confederate colonel
+leading his men to meet them.
+
+The Union forces advanced up the hill with fixed bayonets.
+
+"Fire!" cried Colonel Mortimer.
+
+A roar of fire-arms shook the air, and for a moment caused the advancing
+line to waver. The fire had but little effect, however. One or two of
+the soldiers fell, but most of the leaden hail swept over their heads.
+
+"Forward!" commanded a voice among that line of dark blue coats, and
+they rushed up the hill.
+
+"Fire!" came Colonel Mortimer's command again.
+
+Not more than a dozen guns responded. All had been emptied in the first
+volley, and the enemy was now almost upon them.
+
+"Stand firm!" cried the brave old colonel, waving his sword in the air.
+"Don't give way an inch! Shoot them down as they come!"
+
+Drawing his revolver, he commenced firing at the line, and several of
+his officers followed his example. His men, taking courage, began to
+reload. The Union forces halted and poured a raking fire into the
+Confederate ranks. Men fell to the left and to the right of the old
+colonel, but he was as yet unhurt. About two hundred of his men, having
+reloaded, poured a destructive fire on the approaching lines, which
+made them recoil for a moment; but, rallying, they advanced up the hill
+again and poured three volleys in quick succession into the ranks under
+the brave old colonel, which settled the fortunes of the day, or night
+rather, though the moon shone almost as bright as day.
+
+The Confederates fled, pursued by the glittering bayonets of their foes.
+Colonel Mortimer, with a mere handful of his bravest men, fell back
+towards his mansion. A detachment of soldiers pursued them and hemmed
+them in.
+
+"Oh, my father, my father! he will be killed!" cried Olivia, as she saw
+the soldiers leaping the wall and surrounding the house. She broke away
+from Abner's restraining hand and ran towards the place, where the two
+opposing forces had met with clashing and thrusting of bayonets. Abner
+followed her, but no bird was more fleet than she, as she skimmed over
+garden and lawn and disappeared behind the house, from whence came the
+sound of defiant voices and the discharge of fire-arms, but she heeded
+them not.
+
+When Abner reached the scene of struggle, he found that Colonel Mortimer
+had been thrown to the ground, and a bayonet glittered at his breast;
+then he saw a small, white hand thrust the bayonet aside, and Olivia
+threw herself between the soldier and the prostrate man. Abner sprang to
+the side of Colonel Mortimer and thrust back the astonished soldier.
+
+"Colonel Mortimer surrenders as a prisoner of war," he cried, in his
+firm, ringing tones.
+
+"Hold on!" cried the soldier, looking at the newcomer, "I be hanged if
+here ain't our old colonel. Hurrah, boys, here's Colonel Tompkins!" and
+the excited soldier, who was no other than Corporal Grimm, took off his
+cap, and gave three cheers, that were joined in by a hundred more men,
+who had gathered round.
+
+The village was in possession of the Union forces, and nearly all of
+Colonel Mortimer's command were prisoners.
+
+It was Abner's own regiment which had stormed the village.
+
+"Well, well, I do declare," said Corporal Grimm, "this finding the
+colonel is a little romantic, and with a purty girl, too! It reminds me
+of an incident in my experience with General Preston. Sergeant Swords,
+did I ever tell you my experience with General Preston?" and Grimm took
+the long suffering sergeant aside to relate it.
+
+When Abner had told the story of the colonel's kindness toward him, the
+victors' politeness and kindness towards the old Confederate amply
+repaid him for the manner in which he had treated their colonel.
+
+Abner was informed by Major Fleming that he was to take immediate
+command of the regiment.
+
+He instantly ordered Colonel Mortimer paroled and given the freedom of
+the camp. He whispered to the beautiful, dark-eyed daughter that she
+need have no fear on her father's account, that he commanded the men,
+who held him prisoner. She clung to him and asked so sweetly for him to
+spare her papa that, had he been a monster, he could not have refused.
+
+The night passed away, and daylight dawned before the dead and wounded
+had been gathered up. Some lay stark and stiff in some gully, ravine, or
+behind some trees, among the bushes and between the rocks, and it
+required time to find them.
+
+The next morning a courier reached Abner, with an urgent message from a
+wounded man, who was dying and wished to see him.
+
+"Who is he?" asked Abner.
+
+"A steward of one of the sutlers, who came on this expedition as cook.
+He was a colored fellow," answered the messenger.
+
+A look of intense interest came over Abner's face.
+
+"Where is he?" he demanded.
+
+"Follow me and I will show you," said the messenger.
+
+Leaving the affairs, that were engaging his attention, to the management
+of Major Fleming, Colonel Tompkins hurried away. In one of the lowly
+huts of the village he found Yellow Steve, the strange negro, lying on a
+pallet. He had been wounded by a musket ball in the breast, and his life
+was fast ebbing away. He had but a few hours to live at most, for the
+wound was such the surgeon pronounced recovery impossible.
+
+"I am dying, colonel," said the negro, "but I thank God that I have
+seen you at last to give you this." He put his hand in the breast-pocket
+of his blouse and drew forth a sealed package. "I could not have died
+without giving you this. I have hunted for you everywhere since you were
+captured. I have been in almost every camp in the South. I should have
+been satisfied to give it to your brother Oleah, had he not shown the
+same haughty spirit of one who has been the cause of his own ruin as
+well as mine."
+
+Abner noticed that the packet had been much worn, as if it had been
+carried a long time in some one's pocket. It was addressed, in a very
+plain but evidently unknown hand, to himself.
+
+"You will understand," said the negro, "the seal is not to be broken,
+nor the contents examined, until I am dead. I want no one, least of all
+you, to know my dark secret while there is yet life within this poor
+body. I have suffered enough during my miserable existence without
+having your curses heaped upon my dying head."
+
+Abner assured him that the packet should not be opened while he lived,
+and left, promising to return.
+
+His multifarious duties demanded his attention, and when he returned to
+the hut _Yellow Steve was dead_.
+
+It was late that night when Abner found time to return to his
+head-quarters. He drew his chair close to a lighted lamp, and, breaking
+the seal of the packet, he drew forth the manuscript and read.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+YELLOW STEVE'S MYSTERIOUS STORY.
+
+
+"My name is Jeff. Winnings, and I was born in the State of South
+Carolina, a slave owned by Wade Hampton. My father, I have been told,
+was a Seminole Indian. I have little recollection of my mother, as I was
+torn from her, when but little more than two years old, and sold to a
+man in Kentucky. Here I lived until the age of twelve, when, my master
+dying, his property was divided, and I was taken by a son of his to
+Missouri, in the county of Pike. I found this man an excellent master,
+he always treated me kindly, and, as I picked up a little knowledge of
+books, he encouraged me and furnished me means to improve my mind after
+my day's work was done.
+
+"It was through his kindness, that I, a slave, learned to read and
+write, which now enables me to record the history of my dark career, far
+darker than heaven made my face. I lived with him until I was eighteen
+years of age, and was at one time well known about Bowling Green,
+Missouri, as Yellow Jeff. Then my master became financially embarrassed,
+and I, with his other slaves, was sold at a sheriff's sale.
+
+"A professional negro-buyer, one of the most detestable class of men
+that God ever created, purchased me, and I was taken to North Carolina
+and sold to Mr. Henry Tompkins--"
+
+"Great God!" gasped Abner, the manuscript falling from his hands. "Was
+that man connected with my Uncle's murder?" He sprang to his feet and
+paced the floor, but finally forced himself to pick up the manuscript
+and resume.
+
+"Mr. Tompkins was a man of very hasty temper and, although he was of
+Northern birth, he was a harsh master.
+
+"Among the slaves he owned was a beautiful quadroon, named Maggie, and
+an attachment sprang up between us. I loved her with all my heart, and
+she loved me as earnestly. White people, who think that the tender
+emotions are only for their own race, are much mistaken. I, who had the
+blood of two savage nations in my veins, loved as wildly, fiercely, and
+yet as tenderly as any white man that ever lived. Maggie loved me as
+fervently as I did her. The little education, I had picked up from my
+master in Missouri, made me the hero in the negro quarters. Oftentimes,
+in the balmy Southern nights, when the day's work was over, have I taken
+my banjo and sat by the side of my pretty quadroon, pretty to me,
+whatever she may have been to others, and played those old,
+long-forgotten songs.
+
+"Our overseer was hard on us, and the tasks we accomplished were
+wonderful--they seem impossible now for even negroes to have performed.
+Yet darkness never found me too tired to take my accustomed place by
+Maggie's side. When I was twenty-one, I was a strong, athletic man. No
+one on the plantation could equal me for strength or activity. Two or
+three times had the overseer tied me to a post and used his whip on me
+for some very trifling matter. On such occasions I felt the rising in my
+heart of that wild thirst for blood, which afterward proved my ruin. I
+was called 'Indian Jeff,' 'Proud Jeff,' and 'Dandy Jeff,' and the
+overseer, who seemed to have a special grudge against me, used to
+declare that he would whip the pride out of me.
+
+"I could have borne all their beatings and ill treatment, and have lived
+peaceably the life of a slave, until death or Abraham Lincoln's
+proclamation had set me free, had not my master given me a blow, that
+was worse than death. When I was twenty-one, Maggie and I were married,
+in sight of heaven, though the law said negroes can not marry, and were
+as happy as persons in perpetual bondage could be. She sympathized with
+me and I with her. I can not see now how we could have been so happy
+then. There was no promise in the future, but slavery, toil, and the
+lash. Our only hope of release was death, yet we were happy in each
+other's love.
+
+"We laughed at the threatened lash and sang at our work from morning
+until night. I toiled in the cotton fields, and Maggie was employed in
+the planter's mansion. It was cotton-picking time, a few months after
+our marriage, and, the crop being unusually large, my master sent my
+wife to work in the field. She came gladly and asked permission to work
+by my side. I also pleaded for this privilege, promising to do the work
+of two men, if our prayer was granted.
+
+"Our master ordered us away to the field and said that the overseer
+would arrange that. Scarcely had the overseer set eyes on my beautiful
+quadroon wife than I trembled. I saw an evil purpose in his dark eye. He
+refused our request and placed us on opposite sides of the field. I went
+to work sullenly and, although I kept busy, I did but little, trampling
+under foot more cotton than I picked. We had been in the field all day,
+and the sun was setting, when I heard a shriek from the opposite side of
+the field. The voice I knew well to be Maggie's, and in an instant all
+my wild Indian nature was on fire. I flew across the field to find the
+overseer beating my wife. Some terrified negroes whispered the cause to
+me, as I paused, horror-stricken. The overseer had offered some
+indecencies to her, which she had resented, and now he was punishing
+her.
+
+"They tried to hold me back, but they might as well have tried to stop
+the fires in a volcano. One spring and one blow from my fist laid the
+villain senseless on the ground, and snatching up my wife, who had
+fainted, I hurried away to our lowly cabin.
+
+"I expected punishment, but not such as came. The next morning both
+Maggie and myself were put in irons, and I was compelled to stand by
+while a contract of sale was read, conveying her to a Louisiana
+sugar-planter. Again that wild cry of my heart for vengeance rang
+through every nerve, and I uttered a fearful oath of vengeance as I saw
+them bear her away. Her shrieks have rang in my ears ever since.
+
+"For my threat I was tied to a tree, and the lash laid on my bare back
+by my master, Mr. Henry Tompkins. During the flogging I turned on him,
+and swore I would have his blood and the blood of his whole family. It
+only augmented my own suffering, however. When Henry Tompkins was
+exhausted, he ordered me to be released, and I went sullenly away. No
+words except threats had escaped my lips, and they could not have wrung
+a groan from me had they cut me into pieces with the cowhide.
+
+"For a few days I remained about the place, planning revenge. I went
+about my work until an opportunity offered, and then ran away. I knew
+how vigorous would be the pursuit, and selected a mountain cave, which I
+believe to be unknown to any one but myself. Here I lived for about
+three weeks, frequently hearing the bay of the bloodhound and the shout
+of the negro-hunter. They evidently gave it up at last, and one night I
+came from my hiding-place and went to my master's house. I knew the
+place well. I found an ax, and I went in at the front door.
+
+"I will not describe, for I can not, what I did. With the name of Maggie
+on my lips, and the Indian devil in my heart, I perpetrated a horrible
+murder. The baby, a little girl, I spared and picked up with some of
+its clothing and carried it away with me. The rest were all struck down
+by my avenging ax. As I was leaving with the baby, my conscience already
+smiting me for what I had done, a groan came from the eldest child, a
+boy. Stooping, I found he was not dead, but that my ax had fractured his
+skull. He was between ten and twelve years of age and slender. I
+snatched him up, and, having set fire to the house, I put the baby in a
+large basket and set off with the wounded boy and the baby girl.
+
+"How I reached the cave, without discovery, no one, not even I, know.
+The burning mansion doubtless aided me, by calling off all pursuit. Here
+I remained for a week or two, living I know not how. The boy recovered
+from the blow, but he was a idiot and had no recollection of his former
+life.
+
+"I had no heart to kill him or the baby now; I had had blood enough, and
+for some time was puzzled what to do with the baby and the idiot. There
+was a colored freeman, known as 'Free John,' living near, with his wife.
+I knew I could trust them, and, one night, I told them all. I knew that
+Henry Tompkins had a brother in Virginia, and to him I resolved to take
+the children.
+
+"My friends went ahead in their ox-cart, leaving bits of leaves on the
+road to indicate which way they had gone. I started after them, with the
+idiot by my side and carrying the baby in my arms. I had found on some
+of the baby's clothes the name Irene, which I was careful to preserve,
+as they might lead to her discovery; a plan I had decided upon when I
+should be far enough out of the way. When in the State of Virginia,
+about twenty-five miles from Mr. Tompkins' the boy ran away from me, and
+I did not see him again for years. We had traveled mostly by night and
+found hiding-places in the cane-brakes during the day time.
+
+"I finally reached the vicinity of Twin Mountains, where I found Free
+John, and we remained there for two or three days, as we both were
+nearly exhausted with our long, hard travel. One day, while at his hut,
+an old hunter, called Uncle Dan, stopped in for a moment and saw the
+little, tired, dirty baby. He looked at it curiously and asked some
+questions, which Free John's wife answered, but that very night I
+carried it to the mansion of Mr. Tompkins and left it on his porch. He
+raised the child, and now she is the wife of his son, and her husband
+does not know that she is his own cousin. The boy finally wandered to
+the same place and lived there and at the cabin of Dan Martin, until he
+was accidentally killed by the Union soldiers. He went by the name of
+Crazy Joe, on account of his persistently calling himself Joseph.
+
+"John Smith, or Free John, and his wife, Katy, are now living at
+Wheeling, Virginia, and can attest the truth of my story, if it becomes
+necessary to prove Irene Tompkins' heirship to her father's estate.
+
+"Since that night, I have been a wanderer through the South, and have
+assisted hundreds of my race to reach the North and freedom. I have
+become accustomed to danger and accomplished in woodcraft.
+
+"I have searched the South over, and a hundred times risked my life
+trying to find my Maggie. Only a few weeks ago, I learned that she had
+died, years ago, of a broken heart. When you read this, pronounce me a
+fiend if you will, but remember that I was once human. I was maddened,
+desperate. It was the curse of slavery that caused the horror I have
+related; but now, thank God! when you read this, and I am no more, the
+curse is lifted from the land. For the first time in many years I write
+my real name,
+
+"JEFF. WINNINGS."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+THE RECONCILIATION.
+
+
+The large clock in the hall chimed out the midnight hour as Abner
+finished reading the manuscript. He sat for a long time reflecting on
+what he had read. The great family mystery, and with it many other
+mysteries, was now cleared up, and like many other things, seemingly
+inexplicable until fully explained, it seemed so simple and so plain
+that he wondered he had not guessed it before. Irene was really his own
+cousin, and poor Crazy Joe was her brother.
+
+Late as it was, he copied the confession in full, intending, when he
+reached New Orleans, to send it to his father. He did mail it, but
+afterward learned that it never got through.
+
+The next day the entire force, with all the prisoners, re-crossed the
+lake and went to New Orleans. Olivia, at her earnest request,
+accompanied her father. On reaching the city, they were allowed to
+occupy their own residence, and one would scarcely have thought that
+Colonel Mortimer was a prisoner, so little was his freedom curtailed.
+
+The long Summer of 1864 passed, and Abner's regiment still remained in
+New Orleans. But when Sherman had almost completed his devastating raid
+through the South Atlantic States--many of which, South Carolina
+especially, still bear traces of its march--Abner was ordered to join
+the army of the Potomac, then about to invest Richmond.
+
+On the evening before his departure, Abner sat in the parlor of Colonel
+Mortimer, with Olivia by his side. "To-morrow," he said, "I must leave
+you; but I leave you now, feeling more hopeful than when we last talked
+of parting. Victory will soon crown our arms, and when Spring opens the
+next campaign, it will witness the surrender of General Lee and all the
+Confederate armies. Then, when the angel of peace shall have spread its
+white wings over this land, I shall return to claim you for my wife."
+
+"Do you forget, when you speak so confidently of your victories," said
+Olivia, sweetly and sadly, "that you speak of our defeat? With all my
+love for you, I must remain a Southern girl, and the cause of the South
+is my cause. I love my sunny South, and I feel as all Southern people
+feel."
+
+"My darling, I am sure that every true Northern man and woman will
+regard this unhappy war as a family quarrel, and victory something to be
+thankful for, but nothing to gloat over. May we not rejoice together,
+when peace shall come, when the iron heel of martial law shall be
+removed from your city? Then I shall be free to claim you. Will you
+remain in this city until I shall come for you?"
+
+"But have you asked papa about that?" she asked, smiles brimming over
+her beautiful eyes. "I don't believe that he will give me up."
+
+"That's all attended to."
+
+"And does he consent?"
+
+"Rather reluctantly, but he consents, nevertheless," replied Abner.
+
+"Yes," said the old colonel, entering the room, "I could do no better,
+seeing I was his prisoner."
+
+The next day, Abner, with his regiment, steamed down the river toward
+the Gulf. The steamer passed through the Florida Straits, and after a
+very rough voyage, which was the one event of the war that did not
+remind Corporal Grimm of any one of his experiences with General
+Preston, they landed on the coast of South Carolina, and thence set
+across the country to join General Sherman. They came up with him at
+Columbia, the capital, on the 18th of February, 1865, the day after its
+capture, and Sherman at once started for North Carolina, entering
+Fayetteville, March 11, 1865. Abner was at Raleigh, the capital of North
+Carolina, when the final crisis came. Lee's army surrendered April 9,
+1885--Oleah Tompkins, Colonel Scrabble, Seth Williams and Howard Jones
+with the rest. Raleigh was taken April 13th; Mobile and Salisbury, N.
+C., on the same day. The Confederacy was conquered, the war was over,
+and all good people rejoiced in the prospect of peace. But a wail went
+out over the Nation at the news of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.
+
+Abner's regiment was ordered to Washington, to pass the grand review and
+be mustered out. The grandest army the world ever knew passed down
+Pennsylvania avenue on the review.
+
+Cheerful news had come from home. Old Mr. Tompkins was rejoicing that
+peace had come to the country, and that he might return to his home.
+
+On the evening of his discharge, Abner was, with his fellow-officers,
+making arrangements for the next day, when a messenger entered with a
+telegram addressed to him. He took the message and opened it. It
+contained the brief sentence:
+
+"_Your father is dead._"
+
+No more horror can be crowded into four words. The color left the young
+man's cheek as he leaned against the table for support. His associates,
+learning his bad news, considerately left him alone. Abner was almost
+stunned with grief. Now that he was so near home, after a separation of
+three long years, it seemed too cruel for belief. There was nothing to
+detain him, and he started by the first train for the Junction. As he
+was borne swiftly homeward, his thoughts dwelt sadly on the father whom
+he should never meet again on earth. He never knew before how deeply he
+had loved him. His every word to him, when he was a child, his fond
+caresses, and his kind, fatherly indulgence came to his mind. As the
+iron wheels roared on, he read the telegram over and over again, but
+could gain no information from it. It contained simply those four brief
+words, and no more.
+
+The Junction was reached at last, and he saw the family carriage there
+with the old coachman waiting. The old carriage had lost its stately
+splendor; it was faded, dilapidated and worn. He hastened to Job, half
+hoping he might find the telegram a mistake, but Job confirmed it. His
+father had died suddenly two days before, but the funeral had not taken
+place yet; they were waiting for him. He had died of heart disease, and
+had dropped dead from his favorite chair in the lawn. Abner stepped in,
+and Job drove off, the carriage rattling and creaking, and the faded
+skirts flapping noisily on the side.
+
+From Job he learned that most of the negroes had left the old
+plantation, since the war had brought them freedom, that the place was
+greatly changed since the last time he had seen it. The houses were
+dilapidated and many of the fences down. It was late in the night before
+he reached the home of his childhood; but, dark as it was, he could see
+the sad change that time and neglect had made on the dear old place.
+
+In the hall his mother met him, weeping and calling him her dear son,
+and begging him never to leave her again--a promise which he readily
+made. Irene also was there to greet her long-lost brother.
+
+It was not until the third day after the funeral that Abner told his
+mother and Irene of Yellow Steve's confession. They had not received the
+copy he had sent, and listened to him with wonder and sorrow that the
+news came too late to benefit Crazy Joe or to relieve the mind of Mr.
+Tompkins. Then he told his mother of Olivia, and it was decided that he
+should start the next day to bring home his bride. New Orleans, at this
+time, was not a pleasant or an altogether safe place of residence; hence
+his haste.
+
+He went that evening alone to the grave of his father. The young leaves
+were green on the trees, the flowers of Spring in full bloom, and birds
+were singing in lofty boughs.
+
+It was growing late as he approached the grave. Just before reaching it,
+he paused and looked in astonishment. A man, dressed in faded gray, with
+one arm in a sling and a bandage around his head, stood by the fresh
+mound. His once fierce black eyes are misty now with tears.
+
+What a tempest of emotion swept over Abner's soul as he recognized in
+that travel-stained, wounded man his only brother! He went toward him
+with outstretched arms and cried: "Brother!"
+
+Oleah looked up, and with an exclamation, half joy and half sorrow, was
+clasped, over his father's grave, in the arms of that brother, from whom
+he had so long been estranged.
+
+Abner and Oleah were reconciled.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is twelve months later, and the old Tompkins mansion has recovered
+some of its ancient splendor. The fences have been rebuilt, the
+long-neglected trees pruned, the doors are on the barn again, and the
+laborers' houses repaired.
+
+A merry crowd of our old friends are gathered at the mansion and just in
+the act of sitting down to a dinner, given by Mrs. Tompkins in honor of
+her oldest son's wedding, which took place a week before at New
+Orleans. Many of our old friends are seated around that table. There is
+Howard Jones, with a scar of a saber cut on his face, but merry as ever.
+By his side sits Seth Williams, with an armless sleeve dangling at his
+side, but the same jolly Seth as of yore. Our friends of both armies are
+met here, though all have laid aside their uniforms and appear in
+citizen's garb. Corporal Grimm is as anxious as ever to relate to
+everybody his experience with "General Preston," and Sergeant Swords is
+ready to second Grimm in any thing. Colonel Mortimer is there, erect and
+soldier-like, and our friend Diggs also, a representative of both
+parties. The little fellow is dressed with the utmost care, his shirt
+front and high collar aggressively stiff, and his glasses on his round,
+silly face. He confides to every one that he has tired of the patent
+medicines and photography, and that he intends to start a country
+newspaper, which eventually shall startle the world.
+
+There are the brothers, Abner and Oleah, with all their old brotherly
+affection renewed, and Irene and Olivia, types of the two classes of
+beauty. It has been arranged that Oleah and Irene are to live on her
+father's plantation in North Carolina, while Abner and Olivia remain on
+the old homestead.
+
+The good minister, whose saving prayer had proved so effective in Diggs'
+case, is seated at the head of the table. Mrs. Tompkins, in widow's
+weeds, is at the foot. She has lost her brilliant beauty and her
+political ambition; she thinks that the happiness of the world depends
+on domestic peace, and that this can be secured only by perfect
+unanimity of feeling between husband and wife.
+
+Olivia Tompkins is happy in the love of husband and father and her
+new-born babe, and she has come to the same conclusion.
+
+To see the happy mingling and general good feeling of those who wore the
+gray and those who wore the blue, it is hard to think they once were
+enemies. We had almost forgotten Uncle Dan, who has retired to his cabin
+on the Twin Mountains, but he is with the others, always the same Uncle
+Dan, whether hunter, scout, or wedding guest. They sit at the common
+table--the soldier of the North and the soldier of the South--as though
+they were, as they are, of one family.
+
+Dear reader, we have written late into the night, and now, as the faces
+of these friends, whom we have followed so long and learned to love so
+well, fade from our sight among the shadows, let us rejoice that the
+time has come, when this great Nation, North and South, is united once
+more in the firmest bonds of friendship--one brotherhood.
+
+
+[THE END]
+
+
+
+
+OUT OF THE MIRE,
+
+
+many a family has been raised by the genuine philanthropy of modern
+progress, and of modern opportunities. But many people do not avail of
+them. They jog along in their old ways until they are stuck fast in a
+mire of hopeless dirt. Friends desert them, for they have already
+deserted themselves by neglecting their own best interests. Out of the
+dirt of kitchen, or hall, or parlor, any house can be quickly brought by
+the use of Sapolio, which is sold by all grocers.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Brother Against Brother, by John Roy Musick
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40541 ***