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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crisis, Volume 3, by Winston Churchill
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Crisis, Volume 3
+
+Author: Winston Churchill
+
+Release Date: October 19, 2004 [EBook #5390]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, VOLUME 3 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CRISIS
+
+By Winston Churchill
+
+BOOK II.
+
+
+Volume 3.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+RAW MATERIAL
+
+Summer, intolerable summer, was upon the city at last. The families of
+its richest citizens had fled. Even at that early day some braved the
+long railroad journey to the Atlantic coast. Amongst these were our
+friends the Cluymes, who come not strongly into this history. Some went
+to the Virginia Springs. But many, like the Brinsmades and the Russells,
+the Tiptons and the Hollingsworths, retired to the local paradise of
+their country places on the Bellefontaine road, on the cool heights above
+the river. Thither, as a respite from the hot office, Stephen was often
+invited by kind Mr. Brinsmade, who sometimes drove him out in his own
+buggy. Likewise he had visited Miss Puss Russell. But Miss Virginia
+Carvel he had never seen since the night he had danced with her. This was
+because, after her return from the young ladies' school at Monticello,
+she had gone to Glencoe, Glencoe, magic spot, perched high on wooded
+highlands. And under these the Meramec, crystal pure, ran lightly on sand
+and pebble to her bridal with that turbid tyrant, the Father of Waters.
+
+To reach Glencoe you spent two dirty hours on that railroad which (it was
+fondly hoped) would one day stretch to the Pacific Ocean. You generally
+spied one of the big Catherwood boys in the train, or their tall sister
+Maude. The Catherwoods likewise lived at Glencoe in the summer. And on
+some Saturday afternoons a grim figure in a linen duster and a silk
+skull-cap took a seat in the forward car. That was Judge Whipple, on his
+way to spend a quiet Sunday with Colonel Carvel.
+
+To the surprise of many good people, the Judge had recently formed
+another habit. At least once a week he would drop in at the little house
+on Olive Street next to Mr. Brinsmade's big one, which was shut up, and
+take tea with Mrs. Brice. Afterward he would sit on the little porch over
+the garden in the rear, or on the front steps, and watch the bob-tailed
+horse-cars go by. His conversation was chiefly addressed to the widow.
+Rarely to Stephen; whose wholesome respect for his employer had in no
+wise abated.
+
+Through the stifling heat of these summer days Stephen sat in the outer
+office, straining at the law. Had it not been for the fact that Mr.
+Whipple went to his mother's house, despair would have seized him long
+since. Apparently his goings-out and his comings-in were noted only by
+Mr. Richter. Truly the Judge's methods were not Harvard methods. And if
+there were pride in the young Bostonian, Mr. Whipple thought he knew the
+cure for it.
+
+It was to Richter Stephen owed a debt of gratitude in these days. He
+would often take his midday meal in the down-town beer garden with the
+quiet German. Then there came a Sunday afternoon (to be marked with a red
+letter) when Richter transported him into Germany itself. Stephen's eyes
+were opened. Richter took him across the Rhine. The Rhine was Market
+Street, and south of that street was a country of which polite American
+society took no cognizance.
+
+Here was an epic movement indeed, for South St. Louis was a great sod
+uprooted from the Fatherland and set down in all its vigorous crudity in
+the warm black mud of the Mississippi Valley. Here lager beer took the
+place of Bourbon, and black bread and sausages of hot rolls and fried
+chicken. Here were quaint market houses squatting in the middle of wide
+streets; Lutheran churches, square and uncompromising, and bulky Turner
+Halls, where German children were taught the German tongue. Here, in a
+shady grove of mulberry and locust, two hundred families were spread out
+at their ease.
+
+For a while Richter sat in silence, puffing at a meerschaum with a huge
+brown bowl. A trick of the mind opened for Stephen one of the histories
+in his father's library in Beacon Street, across the pages of which had
+flitted the ancestors of this blue-eyed and great-chested Saxon. He saw
+them in cathedral forests, with the red hair long upon their bodies. He
+saw terrifying battles with the Roman Empire surging back and forth
+through the low countries. He saw a lad of twenty at the head of rugged
+legions clad in wild skins, sweeping Rome out of Gaul. Back in the dim
+ages Richter's fathers must have defended grim Eresburg. And it seemed to
+him that in the end the new Republic must profit by this rugged stock,
+which had good women for wives and mothers, and for fathers men in whose
+blood dwelt a fierce patriotism and contempt for cowardice.
+
+This fancy of ancestry pleased Stephen. He thought of the forefathers of
+those whom he knew, who dwelt north of Market Street. Many, though this
+generation of the French might know it not, had bled at Calais and at
+Agincourt, had followed the court of France in clumsy coaches to Blois
+and Amboise, or lived in hovels under the castle walls. Others had
+charged after the Black Prince at Poitiers, and fought as serf or noble.
+in the war of the Roses; had been hatters or tailors in Cromwell's
+armies, or else had sacrificed lands and fortunes for Charles Stuart.
+These English had toiled, slow but resistless, over the misty Blue Ridge
+after Boone and Harrod to this old St. Louis of the French, their
+enemies, whose fur traders and missionaries had long followed the veins
+of the vast western wilderness. And now, on to the structure builded by
+these two, comes Germany to be welded, to strengthen or to weaken.
+
+Richter put down his pipe on the table.
+
+"Stephen," he said suddenly, "you do not share the prejudice against us
+here?"
+
+Stephen flushed. He thought of some vigorous words that Miss Puss Russell
+had used on the subject of the Dutch."
+
+"No," said he, emphatically.
+
+"I am glad," answered Richter, with a note of sadness, in his voice. "Do
+not despise us before you know more of us. We are still feudal in
+Germany--of the Middle Ages. The peasant is a serf. He is compelled to
+serve the lord of the land every year with so much labor of his hands.
+The small farmers, the 'Gross' and 'Mittel Bauern', we call them, are
+also mortgaged to the nobles who tyrannize our Vaterland. Our merchants
+are little merchants--shopkeepers, you would say. My poor father, an
+educated man, was such. They fought our revolution."
+
+"And now," said Stephen, "why do they not keep their hold?"
+
+Richter sighed.
+
+"We were unused to ruling," he answered. "We knew not how to act--what to
+do. You must remember that we were not trained to govern ourselves, as
+are you of the English race, from children. Those who have been for
+centuries ground under heel do not make practical parliamentarians. No;
+your heritage is liberty--you Americans and English; and we Germans must
+desert our native land to partake of it."
+
+"And was it not hard to leave?" asked Stephen, gently.
+
+The eyes of the German filled at the recollection, nor did he seem
+ashamed of his tears.
+
+"I had a poor old father whose life was broken to save the Vaterland, but
+not his spirit," he cried, "no, not that. My father was born in 1797. God
+directed my grandfather to send him to the Kolnisches gymnasium, where
+the great Jahn taught. Jahn was our Washington, the father of Germany
+that is to be.
+
+"Then our Fatherland was French. Our women wore Parisian clothes, and
+spoke the language; French immorality and atheism had spread like a
+plague among us Napoleon the vile had taken the sword of our Frederick
+from Berlin. It was Father Jahn (so we love to call him), it was Father
+Jahn who founded the 'Turnschulen', that the generations to come might
+return to simple German ways,--plain fare, high principles, our native
+tongue; and the development of the body. The downfall of the fiend
+Napoleon and the Vaterland united--these two his scholars must have
+written in their hearts. All summer long, in their black caps and linen
+pantaloons, they would trudge after him, begging a crust here and a
+cheese there, to spread his teachings far and wide under the thatched
+roofs.
+
+"Then came 1811. I have heard my father tell how in the heat of that year
+a great red comet burned in the sky, even as that we now see, my friend.
+God forbid that this portends blood. But in the coming spring the French
+conscripts filled our sacred land like a swarm of locusts, devouring as
+they went. And at their head, with the pomp of Darius, rode that
+destroyer of nations and homes, Napoleon. What was Germany then? Ashes.
+But the red embers were beneath, fanned by Father Jahn. Napoleon at
+Dresden made our princes weep. Never, even in the days of the Frankish
+kings, had we been so humbled. He dragged our young men with him to
+Russia, and left them to die moaning on the frozen wastes, while he drove
+off in his sledge.
+
+"It was the next year that Germany rose. High and low, rich and poor,
+Jaeger and Landwehr, came flocking into the army, and even the old men,
+the Landsturm. Russia was an ally, and later, Austria. My father, a last
+of sixteen, was in the Landwehr, under the noble Blucher in Silesia, when
+they drove the French into the Katzbach and the Neisse, swollen by the
+rains into torrents. It had rained until the forests were marshes. Powder
+would not burn. But Blucher, ah, there was a man! He whipped his great
+sabre from under his cloak, crying 'Vorwarts! Vorwarts!' And the Landwehr
+with one great shout slew their enemies with the butts of their muskets
+until their arms were weary and the bodies were tossed like logs in the
+foaming waters. They called Blucher Marachall Vorwarts!
+
+"Then Napoleon was sent to Elba. But the victors quarrelled amongst
+themselves, while Talleyrand and Metternich tore our Vaterland into
+strips, and set brother against brother. And our blood, and the grief for
+the widows and the fatherless, went for nothing."
+
+Richter paused to light his pipe.
+
+"After a while," he continued presently, "came the German Confederation,
+with Austria at the head. Rid of Napoleon, we had another despot in
+Metternich. But the tree which Jahn had planted grew, and its branches
+spread. The great master was surrounded by spies. My father had gone to
+Jena University, when he joined the Burschenschaft, or Students' League,
+of which I will tell you later. It was pledged to the rescue of the
+Vaterland. He was sent to prison for dipping his handkerchief in the
+blood of Sand, beheaded for liberty at Mannheim. Afterwards he was
+liberated, and went to Berlin and married my mother, who died when I was
+young. Twice again he was in prison because the societies met at his
+house. We were very poor, my friend. You in America know not the meaning
+of that word. His health broke, and when '48 came, he was an old man. His
+hair was white, and he walked the streets with a crutch. But he had saved
+a little money to send me to Jena.
+
+"He was proud of me. I was big-boned and fair, like my mother. And when I
+came home at the end of a Semester I can see him now, as he would hobble
+to the door, wearing the red and black and gold of the Burschenschaft.
+And he would keep me up half the night-telling him of our 'Schlager'
+fights with the aristocrats. My father had been a noted swordsman in his
+day."
+
+He stopped abruptly, and colored. For Stephen was staring at the jagged
+scar, He had never summoned the courage to ask Richter how he came by it.
+
+"Schlager fights?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Broadswords," answered the German, hastily. "Some day I will tell you of
+them, and of the struggle with the troops in the 'Breite Strasse' in
+March. We lost, as I told you because we knew not how to hold what we had
+gained.
+
+"I left Germany, hoping to make a home here for my poor father. How sad
+his face as he kissed me farewell! And he said to me: 'Carl, if ever your
+new Vaterland, the good Republic, be in danger, sacrifice all. I have
+spent my years in bondage, and I say to you that life without liberty is
+not worth the living.' Three months I was gone, and he was dead, without
+that for which he had striven so bravely. He never knew what it is to
+have an abundance of meat. He never knew from one day to the other when
+he would have to embrace me, all he owned, and march away to prison,
+because he was a patriot." Richter's voice had fallen low, but now he
+raised it. "Do you think, my friend," he cried, "do you think that I
+would not die willingly for this new country if the time should come.
+Yes, and there are a million like me, once German, now American, who will
+give their lives to preserve this Union. For without it the world is not
+fit to live in."
+
+Stephen had food for thought as he walked northward through the strange
+streets on that summer evening. Here indeed was a force not to be
+reckoned, and which few had taken into account.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+ABRAHAM LINCOLN
+
+It is sometimes instructive to look back and see hour Destiny gave us a
+kick here, and Fate a shove there, that sent us in the right direction at
+the proper time. And when Stephen Brice looks backward now, he laughs to
+think that he did not suspect the Judge of being an ally of the two who
+are mentioned above. The sum total of Mr. Whipple's words and advices to
+him that summer had been these. Stephen was dressed more carefully than
+usual, in view of a visit to Bellefontaine Road. Whereupon the Judge
+demanded whether he were contemplating marriage. Without waiting for a
+reply he pointed to a rope and a slab of limestone on the pavement below,
+and waved his hand unmistakably toward the Mississippi.
+
+Miss Russell was of the opinion that Mr. Whipple had once been crossed in
+love.
+
+But we are to speak more particularly of a put-up job, although Stephen
+did not know this at the time.
+
+Towards five o'clock of a certain afternoon in August of that year, 1858,
+Mr. Whipple emerged from his den. Instead of turning to the right, he
+strode straight to Stephen's table. His communications were always a
+trifle startling. This was no exception.
+
+"Mr. Brice," said he, "you are to take the six forty-five train on the
+St. Louis, Alton, and Chicago road tomorrow morning for Springfield,
+Illinois."
+
+"Yes sir."
+
+"Arriving at Springfield, you are to deliver this envelope into the hands
+of Mr. Abraham Lincoln, of the law firm of Lincoln & Herndon."
+
+"Abraham Lincoln!" cried Stephen, rising and straddling his chair. "But,
+sir--"
+
+"Abraham Lincoln," interrupted the Judge, forcibly "I try to speak
+plainly, sir. You are to deliver it into Mr. Lincoln's hands. If he is
+not in Springfield, find out where he is and follow him up. Your expenses
+will be paid by me. The papers are important. Do you understand, sir?"
+
+Stephen did. And he knew better than to argue the matter with Mr.
+Whipple. He had read in the Missouri Democrat of this man Lincoln, a
+country lawyer who had once been to Congress, and who was even now
+disputing the senatorship of his state with the renowned Douglas. In
+spite of their complacent amusement, he had won a little admiration from
+conservative citizens who did not believe in the efficacy of Judge
+Douglas's Squatter Sovereignty. Likewise this Mr. Lincoln, who had once
+been a rail-sputter, was uproariously derided by Northern Democrats
+because he had challenged Mr. Douglas to seven debates, to be held at
+different towns in the state of Illinois. David with his sling and his
+smooth round pebble must have had much of the same sympathy and ridicule.
+
+For Mr. Douglas, Senator and Judge, was a national character, mighty in
+politics, invulnerable in the armor of his oratory. And he was known far
+and wide as the Little Giant. Those whom he did not conquer with his
+logic were impressed by his person.
+
+Stephen remembered with a thrill that these debates were going on now.
+One, indeed, had been held, and had appeared in fine print in a corner of
+the Democrat. Perhaps this Lincoln might not be in; Springfield; perhaps
+he, Stephen Brice, might, by chance, hit upon a debate, and see and hear
+the tower of the Democracy, the Honorable Stephen A. Douglas.
+
+But it is greatly to be feared that our friend Stephen was bored with his
+errand before he arrived at the little wooden station of the Illinois
+capital. Standing on the platform after the train pulled out, he summoned
+up courage to ask a citizen with no mustache and a beard, which he swept
+away when he spat, where was the office of Lincoln & Herndon. The
+stranger spat twice, regarded Mr. Brice pityingly, and finally led him in
+silence past the picket fence and the New England-looking meeting-house
+opposite until they came to the great square on which the State House
+squatted. The State House was a building with much pretension to beauty,
+built in the classical style, of a yellow stone, with sold white blinds
+in the high windows and mighty columns capped at the gently slanting
+roof. But on top of it was reared a crude wooden dome, like a clay head
+on a marble statue.
+
+"That there," said the stranger, "is whar we watches for the County
+Delegations when they come in to a meetin'." And with this remark,
+pointing with a stubby thumb up a well-worn stair, he departed before
+Stephen could thank him. Stephen paused under the awning, of which there
+were many shading the brick pavement, to regard the straggling line of
+stores and houses which surrounded and did homage to the yellow pile. The
+brick house in which Mr. Lincoln's office was had decorations above the
+windows. Mounting the stair, Stephen found a room bare enough, save for a
+few chairs and law books, and not a soul in attendance. After sitting
+awhile by the window, mopping his brow with a handkerchief, he went out
+on the landing to make inquiries. There he met another citizen in shirt
+sleeves, like unto the first, in the very act of sweeping his beard out
+of the way of a dexterous expectoration.
+
+"Wal, young man," said he, "who be you lookin' for here?"
+
+"For Mr. Lincoln," said Stephen.
+
+At this the gentleman sat down on the dirty top step; and gave vent to
+quiet but annoying laughter.
+
+"I reckon you come to the wrong place."
+
+"I was told this was his office," said Stephen, with some heat.
+
+"Whar be you from?" said the citizen, with interest.
+
+"I don't see what that has to do with it," answered our friend.
+
+"Wal," said the citizen, critically, "if you was from Philadelphy or
+Boston, you might stand acquitted."
+
+Stephen was on the point of claiming Boston, but wisely hesitated.
+
+"I'm from St. Louis, with a message for Mr. Lincoln," he replied.
+
+"Ye talk like y e was from down East," said the citizens who seemed in
+the humor for conversation. "I reckon old Abe's' too busy to see you.
+Say, young man, did you ever hear of Stephen Arnold Douglas, alias the
+Little Giant, alias the Idol of our State, sir?"
+
+This was too much for Stephen, who left the citizen without the
+compliment of a farewell. Continuing around the square, inquiring for Mr.
+Lincoln's house, he presently got beyond the stores and burning pavements
+on to a plank walk, under great shade trees, and past old brick mansions
+set well back from the street. At length he paused in front of a wooden
+house of a dirty grayish brown, too high for its length and breadth, with
+tall shutters of the same color, and a picket fence on top of the
+retaining wall which lifted the yard above the plank walk. It was an ugly
+house, surely. But an ugly house may look beautiful when surrounded by
+such heavy trees as this was. Their shade was the most inviting thing
+Stephen had seen. A boy of sixteen or so was swinging on the gate,
+plainly a very mischievous boy, with a round, laughing, sunburned face
+and bright eyes. In front of the gate was a shabby carriage with top and
+side curtains, hitched to a big bay horse.
+
+"Can you tell me where Mr. Lincoln lives?" inquired Stephen.
+
+"Well, I guess," said the boy. "I'm his son, and he lives right here when
+he's at home. But that hasn't been often lately."
+
+"Where is he?" asked Stephen, beginning to realize the purport of his
+conversations with citizens.
+
+Young Mr. Lincoln mentioned the name of a small town in the northern part
+of the state, where he said his father would stop that night. He told
+Stephen that he looked wilted, invited him into the house to have a glass
+of lemonade, and to join him and another boy in a fishing excursion with
+the big bay horse. Stephen told young Mr. Lincoln that he should have to
+take the first train after his father.
+
+"Jimmy!" exclaimed the other, enviously, "then you'll hear the Freeport
+debate."
+
+Now it has been said that the day was scorching hot. And when Stephen had
+got back to the wooden station, and had waited an hour for the
+Bloomington express, his anxiety to hear the Freeport debate was not as
+keen as it might have been. Late in the afternoon he changed at
+Bloomington to the Illinois Central Railroad: The sun fell down behind
+the cardboard edge of the prairie, the train rattled on into the north,
+wrapped in its dust and Smoke, and presently became a long comet, roaring
+red, to match that other comet which flashed in the sky.
+
+By this time it may be said that our friend was heartily sick of his
+mission, He tried to doze; but two men, a farmer and a clerk, got in at a
+way station, and sat behind him. They began to talk about this man
+Lincoln.
+
+"Shucks," said the clerk, "think of him opposing the Little Giant."
+
+"He's right smart, Sam," said the farmer. "He's got a way of sayin'
+things that's clear. We boys can foller him. But Steve Douglas, he only
+mixes you up."
+
+His companion guffawed.
+
+"Because why?" he shouted. "Because you ain't had no education: What does
+a rail-sputter like Abe know about this government? Judge Douglas has
+worked it all out. He's smart. Let the territories take care of
+themselves. Besides, Abe ain't got no dignity. The fust of this week I
+seen him side-tracked down the road here in a caboose, while Doug went by
+in a special."
+
+"Abe is a plain man, Sam," the farmer answered solemnly. "But you watch
+out for him."
+
+It was ten o'clock when Stephen descended at his destination. Merciful
+night hid from his view the forlorn station and the ragged town. The
+baggage man told him that Mr. Lincoln was at the tavern.
+
+That tavern! Will words describe the impression it made on a certain
+young man from Boston! It was long and low and ramshackly and hot that
+night as the inside of a brick-kiln. As he drew near it on the single
+plant walk over the black prairie-mud, he saw countrymen and politicians
+swarming its narrow porch and narrower hall. Discussions in all keys were
+in progress, and it, was with vast difficulty that our distracted young
+man pushed through and found the landlord, This personage was the coolest
+of the lot. Confusion was but food for his smiles, importunity but
+increased his suavity. And of the seeming hundreds that pressed him, he
+knew and utilized the Christian name of all. From behind a corner of the
+bar he held them all at bay, and sent them to quarters like the old
+campaigner he was.
+
+"Now, Ben, tain't no use gettin' mad. You, and Josh way, an' Will, an'
+Sam, an' the Cap'n, an' the four Beaver brothers, will all sleep in
+number ten. What's that, Franklin? No, sirree, the Honerable Abe, and
+Mister Hill, and Jedge Oglesby is sleepin' in seven." The smell of
+perspiration was stifling as Stephen pushed up to the master of the
+situation. "What's that? Supper, young man? Ain't you had no supper?
+Gosh, I reckon if you can fight your way to the dinin' room, the gals'll
+give you some pork and a cup of coffee."
+
+After a preliminary scuffle with a drunken countryman in mud-caked boots,
+Mr. Brice presently reached the long table in the dining-room. A sense of
+humor not quite extinct made him smile as he devoured pork chops and
+greasy potatoes and heavy apple pie. As he was finishing the pie, he
+became aware of the tavern keeper standing over him.
+
+"Are you one of them flip Chicagy reporters?" asked that worthy, with a
+suspicious eye on Stephen's clothes.
+
+Our friend denied this.
+
+"You didn't talk jest like 'em. Guess you'll be here, tonight--"
+
+"Yes," said Stephen, wearily. And he added, outs of force of habit, "Can
+you give me a room?"
+
+"I reckon," was the cheerful reply. "Number ten, There ain't nobody in
+there but Ben Billings, and the four Beaver brothers, an' three more.
+I'll have a shake-down for ye next the north window."
+
+Stephen's thanks for the hospitality perhaps lacked heartiness. But
+perceiving his host still contemplating him, he was emboldened to say:
+
+"Has Mr. Lincoln gone to bed?"
+
+"Who? Old Abe, at half-past ten? Wal I reckon you don't know him."
+
+Stephen's reflections here on the dignity of the Senatorial candidate of
+the Republican Party in Illinois were novel, at any rate. He thought of
+certain senators he had seen in Massachusetts.
+
+"The only reason he ain't down here swappin' yarns with the boys, is
+because he's havin' some sort of confab with the Jedge and Joe Medill of
+the 'Chicagy Press' and 'Tribune'."
+
+"Do you think he would see me?" asked Stephen, eagerly. He was emboldened
+by the apparent lack of ceremony of the candidate. The landlord looked at
+him in some surprise.
+
+"Wal, I reckon. Jest go up an' knock at the door number seven, and say
+Tom Wright sent ye."
+
+"How shall I know Mr. Lincoln?" asked Stephen.
+
+"Pick out the ugliest man in the room. There ain't nobody I kin think of
+uglier than Abe."
+
+Bearing in mind this succinct description of the candidate, Stephen
+climbed the rickety stairs to the low second story. All the bedroom doors
+were flung open except one, on which the number 7 was inscribed. From
+within came bursts of uproarious laughter, and a summons to enter.
+
+He pushed open the door, and as soon as his eyes became, accustomed to
+the tobacco smoke, he surveyed the room. There was a bowl on the floor,
+the chair where it belonged being occupied. There was a very inhospitable
+looking bed, two shake-downs, and four Windsor chairs in more or less
+state of dilapidation--all occupied likewise. A country glass lamp was
+balanced on a rough shelf, and under it a young man sat absorbed in
+making notes, and apparently oblivious to the noise around him. Every
+gentleman in the room was collarless, coatless, tieless, and vestless.
+Some were engaged in fighting gnats and June bugs, while others battled
+with mosquitoes--all save the young man who wrote, he being wholly
+indifferent.
+
+Stephen picked out the homeliest man in the room. There was no mistaking
+him. And, instead of a discussion of the campaign with the other
+gentlemen, Mr. Lincoln was defending what do you think? Mr. Lincoln was
+defending an occasional and judicious use of swear words.
+
+"Judge," said he, "you do an almighty lot of cussing in your speeches,
+and perhaps it ain't a bad way to keep things stirred up."
+
+"Well," said the Judge, "a fellow will rip out something once in a while
+before he has time to shut it off."
+
+Mr. Lincoln passed his fingers through his tousled hair. His thick lower
+lip crept over in front of the upper one, A gleam stirred in the deep-set
+gray eyes.
+
+"Boys," he asked, "did I ever tell you about Sam'l, the old Quaker's
+apprentice?"
+
+There was a chorus of "No's" and "Go ahead, Abe?" The young man who was
+writing dropped his pencil. As for Stephen, this long, uncouth man of the
+plains was beginning to puzzle him. The face, with its crude features and
+deep furrows, relaxed into intense soberness. And Mr. Lincoln began his
+story with a slow earnestness that was truly startling, considering the
+subject.
+
+"This apprentice, Judge, was just such an incurable as you." (Laughter.)
+"And Sam'l, when he wanted to, could get out as many cusses in a second
+as his anvil shot sparks. And the old man used to wrastle with him nights
+and speak about punishment, and pray for him in meeting. But it didn't do
+any good. When anything went wrong, Sam'l had an appropriate word for the
+occasion. One day the old man got an inspiration when he was scratching
+around in the dirt for an odd-sized iron.
+
+"'Sam'l,' says he, 'I want thee.'
+
+"Sam'l went, and found the old man standing over a big rat hole, where
+the rats came out to feed on the scraps.
+
+"'Sam'l,' says he, 'fetch the tongs.'
+
+"Sam'l fetched the tongs.
+
+"'Now, Sam'l,' says the old man, 'thou wilt sit here until thou hast a
+rat. Never mind thy dinner. And when thou hast him, if I hear thee swear,
+thou wilt sit here until thou hast another. Dost thou mind?'"
+
+Here Mr. Lincoln seized two cotton umbrellas, rasped his chair over the
+bare boor into a corner of the room, and sat hunched over an imaginary
+rat hole, for all the world like a gawky Quaker apprentice. And this was
+a candidate for the Senate of the United States, who on the morrow was to
+meet in debate the renowned and polished Douglas!
+
+"Well," Mr. Lincoln continued, "that was on a Monday, I reckon, and the
+boys a-shouting to have their horses shod. Maybe you think they didn't
+have some fun with Sam'l. But Sam'l sat there, and sat there, and sat
+there, and after a while the old man pulled out his dinner-pail. Sam'l
+never opened his mouth. First thing you know, snip went the tongs." Mr.
+Lincoln turned gravely around. "What do you reckon Sam'l said, Judge?"
+
+The Judge, at random, summoned up a good one, to the delight of the
+audience.
+
+"Judge," said Mr. Lincoln, with solemnity, "I reckon that's what you'd
+have said. Sam'l never said a word, and the old man kept on eating his
+dinner. One o'clock came, and the folks began to drop in again, but
+Sam'l, he sat there. 'Long towards night the boys collected 'round the
+door. They were getting kind of interested. Sam'l, he never looked up."
+Here Mr. Lincoln bent forward a little, and his voice fell to a loud,
+drawling whisper. "First thing you know, here come the whiskers peeping
+up, then the pink eyes a--blinking at the forge, then--!"
+
+"Suddenly he brought the umbrellas together with whack.
+
+"'By God,' yells Sam'l, 'I have thee at last!'"
+
+Amid the shouts, Mr. Lincoln stood up, his long body swaying to and fro
+as he lifted high the improvised tongs. They heard a terrified squeal,
+and there was the rat squirming and wriggling,--it seemed before their
+very eyes. And Stephen forgot the country tavern, the country politician,
+and was transported straightway into the Quaker's smithy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+IN WHICH STEPHEN LEARNS SOMETHING
+
+It was Mr. Lincoln who brought him back. The astonishing candidate for
+the Senate had sunk into his chair, his face relaxed into sadness save
+for the sparkle lurking in the eyes. So he sat, immobile, until the
+laughter had died down to silence. Then he turned to Stephen.
+
+"Sonny," he said, "did you want to see me?"
+
+Stephen was determined to be affable and kind, and (shall we say it?) he
+would not make Mr. Lincoln uncomfortable either by a superiority of
+English or the certain frigidity of manner which people in the West said
+he had. But he tried to imagine a Massachusetts senator, Mr. Sumner, for
+instance, going through the rat story, and couldn't. Somehow,
+Massachusetts senators hadn't this gift. And yet he was not quite sure
+that it wasn't a fetching gift. Stephen did not quite like to be called
+"Sonny." But he looked into two gray eyes, and at the face, and something
+curious happened to him. How was he to know that thousands of his
+countrymen were to experience the same sensation?
+
+"Sonny," said Mr. Lincoln again, "did you want to see me?"
+
+"Yes, sir." Stephen wondered at the "sir." It had been involuntary. He
+drew from his inner pocket the envelope which the Judge had given him.
+
+Mr. Lincoln ripped it open. A document fell out, and a letter. He put the
+document in his tall hat, which was upside down on the floor. As he got
+deeper into the letter, he pursed his mouth, and the lines of his face
+deepened in a smile. Then he looked up, grave again.
+
+Judge Whipple told you to run till you found me, did he, Mr. Brice?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Is the Judge the same old criss-cross, contrary, violent fool that he
+always was?"
+
+Providence put an answer in Stephen's mouth.
+
+"He's been very good to me, Mr. Lincoln."
+
+Mr. Lincoln broke into laughter.
+
+"Why, he's the biggest-hearted man I know. You know him, Oglesby,--Silas
+Whipple. But a man has to be a Daniel or a General Putnam to venture into
+that den of his. There's only one man in the world who can beard Silas,
+and he's the finest states-right Southern gentleman you ever saw. I mean
+Colonel Carvel. You've heard of him, Oglesby. Don't they quarrel once in
+a while, Mr. Brice?"
+
+"They do have occasional arguments,' said Stephen, amused.
+
+"Arguments!" cried Mr. Lincoln; "well, I couldn't come as near to
+fighting every day and stand it. If my dog and Bill's dog across the
+street walked around each other and growled for half a day, and then lay
+down together, as Carvel and Whipple do, by Jing, I'd put pepper on their
+noses--"
+
+"I reckon Colonel Carvel isn't a fighting man," said some one, at random.
+
+Strangely enough, Stephen was seized with a desire to vindicate the
+Colonel's courage. Both Mr. Lincoln and Judge Oglesby forestalled him.
+
+"Not a fighting man!" exclaimed the Judge. "Why, the other day--"
+
+"Now, Oglesby," put in Mr. Lincoln, "I wanted to tell that story."
+
+Stephen had heard it, and so have we. But Mr. Lincoln's imitation of the
+Colonel's drawl brought him a pang like homesickness.
+
+"'No, suh, I didn't intend to shoot. Not if he had gone off straight. But
+he wriggled and twisted like a rattlesnake, and I just couldn't resist,
+suh. Then I sent m'nigger Ephum to tell him not to let me catch sight of
+him 'round the Planters' House. Yes, suh, that's what he was. One of
+these damned Yankees who come South and go into nigger-deals and
+politics."'
+
+Mr. Lincoln glanced at Stephen, and then again at the Judge's letter. He
+took up his silk hat and thrust that, too, into the worn lining, which
+was already filled with papers. He clapped the hat on his head, and
+buttoned on his collar.
+
+"I reckon I'll go for a walk, boys," he said, "and clear my head, so as
+to be ready for the Little Giant to-morrow at Freeport. Mr. Brice, do you
+feel like walking?"
+
+Stephen, taken aback, said that he did.
+
+"Now, Abe, this is just durned foolishness," one of the gentlemen
+expostulated. "We want to know if you're going to ask Douglas that
+question."
+
+"If you do, you kill yourself, Lincoln," said another, who Stephen
+afterwards learned was Mr. Medill, proprietor of the great 'Press and
+Tribune'.
+
+"I guess I'll risk it, Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, gravely. Suddenly comes
+the quiver about the corners of his mouth and the gray eyes respond.
+"Boys," said he, "did you ever hear the story of farmer Bell, down in
+Egypt? I'll tell it to you, boys, and then perhaps you'll know why I'll
+ask Judge Douglas that question. Farmer Bell had the prize Bartlett pear
+tree, and the prettiest gal in that section. And he thought about the
+same of each of 'em. All the boys were after Sue Bell. But there was only
+one who had any chance of getting her, and his name was Jim Rickets. Jim
+was the handsomest man in that section. He's been hung since. But Jim had
+a good deal out of life,--all the appetites, and some of the
+gratifications. He liked Sue, and he liked a luscious Bartlett. And he
+intended to have both. And it just so happened that that prize pear tree
+had a whopper on that year, and old man Bell couldn't talk of anything
+else.
+
+"Now there was an ugly galoot whose name isn't worth mentioning. He knew
+he wasn't in any way fit for Sue, and he liked pears about as well as Jim
+Rickets. Well, one night here comes Jim along the road, whistling; to
+court Susan, and there was the ugly galoot a-yearning on the bank under
+the pear tree. Jim was all fixed up, and he says to the galoot, 'Let's
+have a throw.' Now the galoot knew old Bell was looking over the fence So
+he says, 'All right,' and he gives Jim the first shot--Jim fetched down
+the big pear, got his teeth in it, and strolled off to the house, kind of
+pitiful of the galoot for a, half-witted ass. When he got to the door,
+there was the old man. 'What are you here for?' says he. 'Why,' says
+Rickets, in his off-hand way, for he always had great confidence, 'to
+fetch Sue.'"
+
+"The old man used to wear brass toes to keep his boots from wearing out,"
+said Mr. Lincoln, dreamily.
+
+"You see," continued Mr. Lincoln, "you see the galoot knew that Jim
+Rickets wasn't to be trusted with Susan Bell."
+
+Some of the gentlemen appeared to see the point of this political
+parable, for they laughed uproariously. The others laughed, too. Then
+they slapped their knees, looked at Mr. Lincoln's face, which was
+perfectly sober, and laughed again, a little fainter. Then the Judge
+looked as solemn as his title.
+
+"It won't do, Abe," said he. "You commit suicide."
+
+"You'd better stick to the pear, Abe," said Mr. Medill, "and fight
+Stephen A. Douglas here and now. This isn't any picnic. Do you know who
+he is?"
+
+"Why, yes, Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, amiably. "He's a man with tens of
+thousands of blind followers. It's my business to make some of those
+blind followers see."
+
+By this time Stephen was burning to know the question that Mr. Lincoln
+wished to ask the Little Giant, and why the other gentlemen were against
+it. But Mr. Lincoln surprised him still further in taking him by the arm.
+Turning to the young reporter, Mr. Hill, who had finished his writing, he
+said:
+
+"Bob, a little air will do you good. I've had enough of the old boys for
+a while, and I'm going to talk to somebody any own age."
+
+Stephen was halfway down the corridor when he discovered that he had
+forgotten his hat. As he returned he heard somebody say:
+
+"If that ain't just like Abe. He stopped to pull a flea out of his
+stocking when he was going to fight that duel with Shields, and now he's
+walking with boys before a debate with the smartest man in this country.
+And there's heaps of things he ought to discuss with us."
+
+"Reckon we haven't got much to do with it," said another, half laughing,
+half rueful. "There's some things Abe won't stand."
+
+From the stairs Stephen saw Mr. Lincoln threading his way through the
+crowd below, laughing at one, pausing to lay his hand on the shoulder of
+another, and replying to a rough sally of a third to make the place a
+tumult of guffaws. But none had the temerity to follow him. When Stephen
+caught up with him in the little country street, he was talking earnestly
+to Mr. Hill, the young reporter of the Press and Tribune. And what do you
+think was the subject? The red comet in the sky that night. Stephen kept
+pace in silence with Mr. Lincoln's strides, another shock in store for
+him. This rail-splitter, this postmaster, this flat-boatman, whom he had
+not credited with a knowledge of the New Code, was talking Astronomy. And
+strange to say, Mr. Brice was learning.
+
+"Bob," said Mr. Lincoln, "can you elucidate the problem of the three
+bodies?"
+
+To Stephen's surprise, Mr. Hill elucidated.
+
+The talk then fell upon novels and stories, a few of which Mr. Lincoln
+seemed to have read. He spoke, among others, of the "Gold Bug." "The
+story is grand," said he, "but it might as well have been written of
+Robinson Crusoe's island. What a fellow wants in a book is to know where
+he is. There are not many novels, or ancient works for that matter, that
+put you down anywhere."
+
+"There is that genuine fragment which Cicero has preserved from a last
+work of Aristotle," said Mr. Hill, slyly. "'If there were beings who
+lived in the depths & the earth, and could emerge through the open
+fissures, and could suddenly behold the earth, the sea, and the:--vault
+of heaven--'"
+
+"But you--you impostor," cried Mr. Lincoln, interrupting, "you're giving
+us Humboldt's Cosmos."
+
+Mr. Hill owned up, laughing.
+
+It is remarkable how soon we accustom ourselves to a strange situation.
+And to Stephen it was no less strange to be walking over a muddy road of
+the prairie with this most singular man and a newspaper correspondent,
+than it might have been to the sub-terrestrial inhabitant to emerge on
+the earth's surface. Stephen's mind was in the process of a chemical
+change: Suddenly it seemed to him as if he had known this tall Illinoisan
+always. The whim of the senatorial candidate in choosing him for a
+companion he did not then try to account for.
+
+"Come, Mr. Stephen," said Mr. Lincoln, presently, "where do you hail
+from?"
+
+"Boston," said Stephen.
+
+"No!" said Mr. Lincoln, incredulously. "And how does it happen that you
+come to me with a message from a rank Abolitionist lawyer in St. Louis?"
+
+"Is the Judge a friend of yours, sir?" Stephen asked.
+
+"What!" exclaimed Mr. Lincoln, "didn't he tell you he was?"
+
+"He said nothing at all, sir, except to tell me to travel until I found
+you."
+
+"I call the Judge a friend of mine," said Mr. Lincoln. "He may not claim
+me because I do not believe in putting all slave-owners to the sword."
+
+"I do not think that Judge Whipple is precisely an Abolitionist, sir."
+
+"What! And how do you feel, Mr. Stephen?"
+
+Stephen replied in figures. It was rare with him, and he must have caught
+it from Mr. Lincoln.
+
+"I am not for ripping out the dam suddenly, sir, that would drown the
+nation. I believe that the water can be drained off in some other way."
+
+Mr. Lincoln's direct answer to this was to give Stephen stinging slap
+between the shoulder-blades.
+
+"God bless the boy!" he cried. "He has thought it out. Bob, take that
+down for the Press and Tribune as coming from a rising young politician
+of St. Louis."
+
+"Why," Stephen blurted out, "I--I thought you were an Abolitionist, Mr.
+Lincoln."
+
+"Mr. Brice," said Mr. Lincoln, "I have as much use for the Boston
+Liberator as I have for the Charleston Courier. You may guess how much
+that is. The question is not whether we shall or shall not have slavery,
+but whether slavery shall stay where it is, or be extended according to
+Judge Douglas's ingenious plan. The Judge is for breeding worms. I am for
+cauterizing the sore so that it shall not spread. But I tell you, Mr.
+Brice, that this nation cannot exist half slave and half free."
+
+Was it the slap on the back that opened Stephen's eyes? It was certain
+that as they returned to the tavern the man at his side was changed. He
+need not have felt chagrined. Men in high places underestimated Lincoln,
+or did not estimate him at all. Affection came first. The great warm
+heart had claimed Stephen as it claimed all who came near it.
+
+The tavern was deserted save for a few stragglers. Under the dim light at
+the bar Mr. Lincoln took off his hat and drew the Judge's letter from the
+lining.
+
+"Mr. Stephen," said he, "would you like to come to Freeport with me
+to-morrow and hear the debate?"
+
+An hour earlier he would have declined with thanks. But now! Now his face
+lighted at the prospect, and suddenly fell again. Mr. Lincoln guessed the
+cause. He laid his hand on the young man's shoulder, and laughed.
+
+"I reckon you're thinking of what the Judge will say."
+
+Stephen smiled.
+
+"I'll take care of the Judge," said Mr. Lincoln. "I'm not afraid of him."
+He drew forth from the inexhaustible hat a slip of paper, and began to
+write.
+
+"There," said he, when he had finished, "a friend of mine is going to
+Springfield in the morning, and he'll send that to the Judge."
+
+And this is what he had written:--
+
+     "I have borrowed Steve for a day or two, and guarantee
+     to return him a good Republican.
+                  A. LINCOLN."
+
+It is worth remarking that this was the first time Mr. Brice had been
+called "Steve" and had not resented it.
+
+Stephen was embarrassed. He tried to thank Mr. Lincoln, but that
+gentleman's quizzical look cut him short. And the next remark made him
+gasp.
+
+"Look here, Steve," said he, "you know a parlor from a drawing-room. What
+did you think of me when you saw me to-night?"
+
+Stephen blushed furiously, and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth.
+
+"I'll tell you," said Mr. Lincoln, with his characteristic smile, "you
+thought that you wouldn't pick me out of a bunch of horses to race with
+the Senator."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE QUESTION
+
+Many times since Abraham Lincoln has been called to that mansion which
+God has reserved for the patriots who have served Him also, Stephen Brice
+has thought of that steaming night in the low-ceiled room of the country
+tavern, reeking with the smell of coarse food and hot humanity. He
+remembers vividly how at first his gorge rose, and recalls how gradually
+there crept over him a forgetfulness of the squalidity and discomfort.
+Then came a space gray with puzzling wonder. Then the dawning of a
+worship for a very ugly man in a rumpled and ill-made coat.
+
+You will perceive that there was hope for Stephen. On his shake-down that
+night, oblivious to the snores of his companions and the droning of the
+insects, he lay awake. And before his eyes was that strange, marked face,
+with its deep lines that blended both humor and sadness there. It was
+homely, and yet Stephen found himself reflecting that honesty was just as
+homely, and plain truth. And yet both were beautiful to those who had
+learned to love them. Just so this Mr. Lincoln.
+
+He fell asleep wondering why Judge Whipple had sent him.
+
+It was in accord with nature that reaction came with the morning. Such a
+morning, and such a place!
+
+He was awakened, shivering, by the beat of rain on the roof, and
+stumbling over the prostrate forms of the four Beaver brothers, reached
+the window. Clouds filled the sky, and Joshway, whose pallet was under
+the sill, was in a blessed state of moisture.
+
+No wonder some of his enthusiasm had trickled away!
+
+He made his toilet in the wet under the pump outside; where he had to
+wait his turn. And he rather wished he were going back to St. Louis. He
+had an early breakfast of fried eggs and underdone bacon, and coffee
+which made him pine for Hester's. The dishes were neither too clean nor
+too plentiful, being doused in water as soon as ever they were out of
+use.
+
+But after breakfast the sun came out, and a crowd collected around the
+tavern, although the air was chill and the muck deep in the street.
+Stephen caught glimpses of Mr. Lincoln towering above the knots of
+country politicians who surrounded him, and every once in a while a knot
+would double up with laughter. There was no sign that the senatorial
+aspirant took the situation seriously; that the coming struggle with his
+skilful antagonist was weighing him down in the least. Stephen held aloof
+from the groups, thinking that Mr. Lincoln had forgotten him. He decided
+to leave for St. Louis on the morning train, and was even pushing toward
+the tavern entrance with his bag in his hand, when he was met by Mr.
+Hill.
+
+"I had about given you up, Mr. Brice," he said. "Mr. Lincoln asked me to
+get hold of you, and bring you to him alive or dead."
+
+Accordingly Stephen was led to the station, where a long train of twelve
+cars was pulled up, covered with flags and bunting. On entering one of
+these, he perceived Mr. Lincoln sprawled (he could think of no other word
+to fit the attitude) on a seat next the window, and next him was Mr.
+Medill of the Press and Tribune. The seat just in front was reserved for
+Mr. Hill, who was to make any notes necessary. Mr. Lincoln looked up. His
+appearance was even less attractive than the night before, as he had on a
+dirty gray linen duster.
+
+"I thought you'd got loose, Steve," he said, holding out his hand. "Glad
+to see you. Just you sit down there next to Bob, where I can talk to
+you."
+
+Stephen sat down, diffident, for he knew that there were others in that
+train who would give ten years of their lives for that seat.
+
+"I've taken a shine to this Bostonian, Joe," said Mr Lincoln to Mr.
+Medill. "We've got to catch 'em young to do anything with 'em, you know.
+Now, Steve, just give me a notion how politics are over in St. Louis.
+What do they think of our new Republican party? Too bran new for old St.
+Louis, eh?"
+
+Stephen saw expostulation in Mr. Medill's eyes, and hesitated. And Mr.
+Lincoln seemed to feel Medill's objections, as by mental telepathy. But
+he said:-- "We'll come to that little matter later, Joe, when the cars
+start."
+
+Naturally, Stephen began uneasily. But under the influence of that kindly
+eye he thawed, and forgot himself. He felt that this man was not one to
+feign an interest. The shouts of the people on the little platform
+interrupted the account, and the engine staggered off with its load.
+
+"I reckon St. Louis is a nest of Southern Democrats," Mr. Lincoln
+remarked, "and not much opposition."
+
+"There are quite a few Old Line Whigs, sir," ventured Stephen, smiling.
+
+"Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, "did you ever hear Warfield's definition of an
+Old Line Whig?"
+
+Mr. Medill had not.
+
+"A man who takes his toddy regularly, and votes the Democratic ticket
+occasionally, and who wears ruffled shirts."
+
+Both of these gentlemen laughed, and two more in the seat behind, who had
+an ear to the conversation.
+
+"But, sir," said Stephen, seeing that he was expected to go on, "I think
+that the Republican party will gather a considerable strength there in
+another year or two. We have the material for powerful leaders in Mr.
+Blair and others" (Mr. Lincoln nodded at the name). "We are getting an
+ever increasing population from New England, mostly of young men who will
+take kindly to the new party." And then he added, thinking of his
+pilgrimage the Sunday before: "South St. Louis is a solid mass of
+Germans, who are all antislavery. But they are very foreign still, and
+have all their German institutions."
+
+"The Turner Halls?" Mr. Lincoln surprised him by inquiring.
+
+"Yes. And I believe that they drill there."
+
+"Then they will the more easily be turned into soldiers if the time
+should come," said Mr. Lincoln. And he added quickly, "I pray that it may
+not."
+
+Stephen had cause to remember that observation, and the acumen it showed,
+long afterward.
+
+The train made several stops, and at each of them shoals of country
+people filled the aisles, and paused for a most familiar chat with the
+senatorial candidate. Many called him Abe. His appearance was the equal
+in roughness to theirs, his manner if anything was more democratic,--yet
+in spite of all this Stephen in them detected a deference which might
+almost be termed a homage. There were many women among them. Had our
+friend been older, he might have known that the presence of good women in
+a political crowd portends something. As it was, he was surprised. He was
+destined to be still more surprised that day.
+
+When they had left behind them the shouts of the little down of Dixon,
+Mr. Lincoln took off his hat, and produced a crumpled and not too
+immaculate scrap of paper from the multitude therein.
+
+"Now, Joe," said he, "here are the four questions I intend to ask Judge
+Douglas. I am ready for you. Fire away."
+
+"We don't care anything about the others," answered Mr. Medill. "But I
+tell you this. If you ask that second one, you'll never see the United
+States Senate."
+
+"And the Republican party in this state will have had a blow from which
+it can scarcely recover," added Mr. Judd, chairman of the committee.
+
+Mr. Lincoln did not appear to hear them. His eyes were far away over the
+wet prairie.
+
+Stephen held his breath. But neither he, nor Medill, nor Judd, nor Hill
+guessed at the pregnancy of that moment. How were they to know that the
+fate of the United States of America was concealed in that Question,
+--was to be decided on a rough wooden platform that day in the town of
+Freeport, Illinois?
+
+But Abraham Lincoln, the uncouth man in the linen duster with the tousled
+hair, knew it. And the stone that was rejected of the builders was to
+become the corner-stone of the temple.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Lincoln recalled himself, glanced at the paper, and cleared
+his throat. In measured tones, plainly heard above the rush and roar of
+the train, he read the Question:
+
+   "Can the people of a United States Territory, in any lawful way,
+   against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude
+   slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State
+   Constitution?"
+
+Mr. Medill listened intently.
+
+"Abe," said he, solemnly, "Douglas will answer yes, or equivocate, and
+that is all the assurance these Northern Democrats want to put Steve
+Douglas in the Senate. They'll snow you under."
+
+"All right," answered Mr. Lincoln, quietly.
+
+"All right?" asked Mr. Medill, reflecting the sheer astonishment of the
+others; "then why the devil are you wearing yourself out? And why are we
+spending our time and money on you?"
+
+Mr. Lincoln laid his hand on Medill's sleeve.
+
+"Joe," said he, "a rat in the larder is easier to catch than a rat that
+has the run of the cellar. You know, where to set your trap in the
+larder. I'll tell you why I'm in this campaign: to catch Douglas now, and
+keep him out of the White House in 1860. To save this country of ours,
+Joe. She's sick."
+
+There was a silence, broken by two exclamations.
+
+"But see here, Abe," said Mr. Medill, as soon as ever he got his breath,
+"what have we got to show for it? Where do you come in?"
+
+Mr. Lincoln smiled wearily.
+
+"Nowhere, I reckon," he answered simply.
+
+"Good Lord!" said Mr. Judd.
+
+Mr. Medill gulped.
+
+"You mean to say, as the candidate of the Republican party, you don't
+care whether you get to the Senate?"
+
+"Not if I can send Steve Douglas there with his wings broken," was the
+calm reply.
+
+"Suppose he does answer yes, that slavery can be excluded?" said Mr.
+Judd.
+
+"Then," said Mr. Lincoln, "then Douglas loses the vote of the great
+slave-holders, the vote of the solid South, that he has been fostering
+ever since he has had the itch to be President. Without the solid South
+the Little Giant will never live in the White House. And unless I'm
+mightily mistaken, Steve Douglas has had his aye as far ahead as 1860 for
+some time."
+
+Another silence followed these words. There was a stout man standing in
+the aisle, and he spat deftly out of the open window.
+
+"You may wing Steve Douglas, Abe," said he, gloomily, "but the gun will
+kick you over the bluff."
+
+"Don't worry about me, Ed," said Mr. Lincoln. "I'm not worth it."
+
+In a wave of comprehension the significance of all this was revealed to
+Stephen Brice, The grim humor, the sagacious statesmanship, and (best of
+all)--the superb self sacrifice of it, struck him suddenly. I think it
+was in that hour that he realized the full extent of the wisdom he was
+near, which was like unto Solomon's.
+
+Shame surged in Stephen's face that he should have misjudged him. He had
+come to patronize. He had remained to worship. And in after years, when
+he thought of this new vital force which became part of him that day, it
+was in the terms of Emerson: "Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates,
+and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every
+pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be
+misunderstood."
+
+How many have conversed with Lincoln before and since, and knew him not!
+
+If an outward and visible sign of Mr. Lincoln's greatness were needed,
+--he had chosen to speak to them in homely parables. The story of Farmer
+Bell was plain as day. Jim Rickets, who had life all his own way, was
+none other than Stephen A. Douglas, the easily successful. The ugly
+galoot, who dared to raise his eyes only to the pear, was Mr. Lincoln
+himself. And the pear was the Senatorship, which the galoot had denied
+himself to save Susan from being Mr. Rickets' bride.
+
+Stephen could understand likewise the vehemence of the Republican leaders
+who crowded around their candidate and tried to get him to retract that
+Question. He listened quietly, he answered with a patient smile. Now and
+then he threw a story into the midst of this discussion which made them
+laugh in spite of themselves. The hopelessness of the case was quite
+plain to Mr. Hill, who smiled, and whispered in Stephen's ear: "He has
+made up his mind. They will not budge him an inch, and they know it."
+
+Finally Mr. Lincoln took the scrap of paper, which was even more dirty
+and finger-marked by this time, and handed it to Mr. Hill. The train was
+slowing down for Freeport. In the distance, bands could be heard playing,
+and along the track, line upon line of men and women were cheering and
+waving. It was ten o'clock, raw and cold for that time of the year, and
+the sun was trying to come out.
+
+"Bob," said Mr. Lincoln, "be sure you get that right in your notes. And,
+Steve, you stick close to me, and you'll see the show. Why, boys," he
+added, smiling, "there's the great man's private car, cannon and all."
+
+All that Stephen saw was a regular day-car on a sidetrack. A brass cannon
+was on the tender hitched behind it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE CRISIS
+
+Stephen A. Douglas, called the Little Giant on account of his intellect,
+was a type of man of which our race has had some notable examples,
+although they are not characteristic. Capable of sacrifice to their
+country, personal ambition is, nevertheless, the mainspring of their
+actions. They must either be before the public, or else unhappy. This
+trait gives them a large theatrical strain, and sometimes brands them as
+adventurers. Their ability saves them from being demagogues.
+
+In the case of Douglas, he had deliberately renewed some years before the
+agitation on the spread of slavery, by setting forth a doctrine of
+extreme cleverness. This doctrine, like many others of its kind, seemed
+at first sight to be the balm it pretended, instead of an irritant, as it
+really was. It was calculated to deceive all except thinking men, and to
+silence all save a merciless logician. And this merciless logician, who
+was heaven-sent in time of need, was Abraham Lincoln.
+
+Mr. Douglas was a juggler, a political prestidigitateur. He did things
+before the eyes of the Senate and the nation. His balm for the healing of
+the nation's wounds was a patent medicine so cleverly concocted that
+experts alone could show what was in it. So abstruse and twisted were
+some of Mr. Douglas's doctrines that a genius alone might put them into
+simple words, for the common people.
+
+The great panacea for the slavery trouble put forth by Mr. Douglas at
+that time was briefly this: that the people of the new territories should
+decide for themselves, subject to the Constitution, whether they should
+have slavery or not, and also decide for themselves all other questions
+under the Constitution. Unhappily for Mr. Douglas, there was the famous
+Dred Scott decision, which had set the South wild with joy the year
+before, and had cast a gloom over the North. The Chief Justice of the
+United States had declared that under the Constitution slaves were
+property,--and as such every American citizen owning slaves could carry
+them about with him wherever he went. Therefore the territorial
+legislatures might pass laws until they were dumb, and yet their settlers
+might bring with them all the slaves they pleased.
+
+And yet we must love the Judge. He was a gentleman, a strong man, and a
+patriot. He was magnanimous, and to his immortal honor be it said that
+he, in the end, won the greatest of all struggles. He conquered himself.
+He put down that mightiest thing that was in him,--his ambition for
+himself. And he set up, instead, his ambition for his country. He bore no
+ill-will toward the man whose fate was so strangely linked to his, and
+who finally came to that high seat of honor and of martyrdom which he
+coveted. We shall love the Judge, and speak of him with reverence, for
+that sublime act of kindness before the Capitol in 1861.
+
+Abraham Lincoln might have prayed on that day of the Freeport debate:
+
+"Forgive him, Lord. He knows not what he does." Lincoln descried the
+danger afar, and threw his body into the breach.
+
+That which passed before Stephen's eyes, and to which his ears listened
+at Freeport, was the Great Republic pressing westward to the Pacific. He
+wondered whether some of his Eastern friends who pursed their lips when
+the Wrest was mentioned would have sneered or prayed. A young English
+nobleman who was there that day did not sneer. He was filled instead with
+something like awe at the vigor of this nation which was sprung from the
+loins of his own. Crudeness he saw, vulgarity he heard, but Force he
+felt, and marvelled.
+
+America was in Freeport that day, the rush of her people and the surprise
+of her climate. The rain had ceased, and quickly was come out of the
+northwest a boisterous wind, chilled by the lakes and scented by the
+hemlocks of the Minnesota forests. The sun smiled and frowned Clouds
+hurried in the sky, mocking the human hubbub below. Cheering thousands
+pressed about the station as Mr. Lincoln's train arrived. They hemmed him
+in his triumphal passage under the great arching trees to the new
+Brewster House. The Chief Marshal and his aides, great men before, were
+suddenly immortal. The county delegations fell into their proper
+precedence like ministers at a state dinner. "We have faith in Abraham,
+Yet another County for the Rail-sputter, Abe the Giant-killer,"--so the
+banners read. Here, much bedecked, was the Galena Lincoln Club, part of
+Joe Davies's shipment. Fifes skirled, and drums throbbed, and the stars
+and stripes snapped in the breeze. And here was a delegation headed by
+fifty sturdy ladies on horseback, at whom Stephen gaped like a
+countryman. Then came carryalls of all ages and degrees, wagons from this
+county and that county, giddily draped, drawn by horses from one to six,
+or by mules, their inscriptions addressing their senatorial candidate in
+all degrees of familiarity, but not contempt. What they seemed proudest
+of was that he had been a rail-splitter, for nearly all bore a
+fence-rail.
+
+But stay, what is this wagon with the high sapling flagstaff in the
+middle, and the leaves still on it?
+
+     "Westward the Star of Empire takes its way.
+     The girls link on to Lincoln; their mothers were for Clay."
+
+Here was glory to blind you,--two and thirty maids in red sashes and blue
+liberty caps with white stars. Each was a state of the Union, and every
+one of them was for Abraham, who called them his "Basket of Flowers."
+Behind them, most touching of all, sat a thirty-third shackled in chains.
+That was Kansas. Alas, the men of Kansas was far from being as sorrowful
+as the part demanded,--in spite of her instructions she would smile at
+the boys. But the appealing inscription she bore, "Set me free" was
+greeted with storms of laughter, the boldest of the young men shouting
+that she was too beautiful to be free, and some of the old men, to their
+shame be it said likewise shouted. No false embarrassment troubled
+Kansas. She was openly pleased. But the young men who had brought their
+sweethearts to town, and were standing hand in hand with them, for
+obvious reasons saw nothing: They scarcely dared to look at Kansas, and
+those who did were so loudly rebuked that they turned down the side
+streets.
+
+During this part of the day these loving couples, whose devotion was so
+patent to the whole world, were by far the most absorbing to Stephen. He
+watched them having their fortunes told, the young women blushing and
+crying, "Say!" and "Ain't he wicked?" and the young men getting their
+ears boxed for certain remarks. He watched them standing open-mouthed at
+the booths and side shows with hands still locked, or again they were
+chewing cream candy in unison. Or he glanced sidewise at them, seated in
+the open places with the world so far below them that even the insistent
+sound of the fifes and drums rose but faintly to their ears.
+
+And perhaps,--we shall not say positively,--perhaps Mr. Brice's thoughts
+went something like this, "O that love were so simple a matter to all!"
+But graven on his face was what is called the "Boston scorn." And no
+scorn has been known like unto it since the days of Athens.
+
+So Stephen made the best of his way to the Brewster House, the elegance
+and newness of which the citizens of Freeport openly boasted. Mr. Lincoln
+had preceded him, and was even then listening to a few remarks of burning
+praise by an honorable gentleman. Mr. Lincoln himself made a few remarks,
+which seemed so simple and rang so true, and were so free from political
+rococo and decoration generally, that even the young men forgot their
+sweethearts to listen. Then Mr. Lincoln went into the hotel, and the sun
+slipped under a black cloud.
+
+The lobby was full, and rather dirty, since the supply of spittoons was
+so far behind the demand. Like the firmament, it was divided into little
+bodies which revolved about larger bodies. But there lacked not here
+supporters of the Little Giant, and discreet farmers of influence in
+their own counties who waited to hear the afternoon's debate before
+deciding. These and others did not hesitate to tell of the magnificence
+of the Little Giant's torchlight procession the previous evening. Every
+Dred-Scottite had carried a torch, and many transparencies, so that the
+very glory of it had turned night into day. The Chief Lictor had
+distributed these torches with an unheard-of liberality. But there lacked
+not detractors who swore that John Dibble and other Lincolnites had
+applied for torches for the mere pleasure of carrying them. Since dawn
+the delegations had been heralded from the house-tops, and wagered on
+while they were yet as worms far out or the prairie. All the morning
+these continued to came in, and form in line to march past their
+particular candidate. The second great event of the day was the event of
+the special over the Galena roar, of sixteen cars and more than a
+thousand pairs of sovereign lungs. With military precision they repaired
+to the Brewster House, and ahead of then a banner was flung: "Winnebago
+County for the Tall Sucker." And the Tall Sucker was on the steps to
+receive them.
+
+But Mr. Douglas, who had arrived the evening before to the booming of two
+and thirty guns, had his banners end his bunting, too. The neighborhood
+of Freeport was stronghold of Northern Democrats, ardent supporters of
+the Little Giant if once they could believe that he did not intend to
+betray them.
+
+Stephen felt in his bones the coming of a struggle, and was thrilled.
+Once he smiled at the thought that he had become an active partisan--nay,
+a worshipper--of the uncouth Lincoln. Terrible suspicion for a
+Bostonian,--had he been carried away? Was his hero, after all, a homespun
+demagogue? Had he been wise in deciding before he had taught a glimpse of
+the accomplished Douglas, whose name end fame filled the land? Stephen
+did not waver in his allegiance. But in his heart there lurked a fear of
+the sophisticated Judge and Senator and man of the world whom he had not
+yet seen. In his notebook he had made a, copy of the Question, and young
+Mr. Hill discovered him pondering in a corner of the lobby at dinnertime.
+After dinner they went together to their candidate's room. They found the
+doors open and the place packed, and there was Mr. Lincoln's very tall
+hat towering above those of the other politicians pressed around him. Mr.
+Lincoln took three strides in Stephen's direction and seized him by the
+shoulder.
+
+"Why, Steve," said he, "I thought you had got away again." Turning to a
+big burly man with a good-natures face, who was standing by, he added.
+"Jim, I want you to look out for this young man. Get him a seat on the
+stands where he can hear."
+
+Stephen stuck close to Jim. He never knew what the gentleman's last name
+was, or whether he had any. It was but a few minutes' walk to the grove
+where the speaking was to be. And as they made their way thither Mr.
+Lincoln passed them in a Conestoga wagon drawn by six milk-white horses.
+Jim informed Stephen that the Little Giant had had a six-horse coach. The
+grove was black with people. Hovering about the hem of the crowd were the
+sunburned young men in their Sunday best, still clinging fast to the
+hands of the young women. Bands blared "Columbia, Gem of the Ocean."
+Fakirs planted their stands in the way, selling pain-killers and ague
+cures, watermelons and lemonade, Jugglers juggled, and beggars begged.
+Jim said that there were sixteen thousand people in that grove. And he
+told the truth.
+
+Stephen now trembled for his champion. He tried to think of himself as
+fifty years old, with the courage to address sixteen thousand people on
+such a day, and quailed. What a man of affairs it must take to do that!
+Sixteen thousand people, into each of whose breasts God had put different
+emotions and convictions. He had never even imagined such a crowd as this
+assembles merely to listen to a political debate. But then he remembered,
+as they dodged from in front of the horses, what it was not merely a
+political debate: The pulse of nation was here, a great nation stricken
+with approaching fever. It was not now a case of excise, but of
+existence.
+
+This son of toil who had driven his family thirty miles across the
+prairie, blanketed his tired horses and slept on the ground the night
+before, who was willing to stand all through the afternoon and listen
+with pathetic eagerness to this debate, must be moved by a patriotism
+divine. In the breast of that farmer, in the breast of his tired wife who
+held her child by the hand, had been instilled from birth that sublime
+fervor which is part of their life who inherit the Declaration of
+Independence. Instinctively these men who had fought and won the West had
+scented the danger. With the spirit of their ancestors who had left their
+farms to die on the bridge at Concord, or follow Ethan Allen into
+Ticonderoga, these had come to Freeport. What were three days of bodily
+discomfort! What even the loss of part of a cherished crop, if the
+nation's existence were at stake and their votes might save it!
+
+In the midst of that heaving human sea rose the bulwarks of a wooden
+stand. But how to reach it? Jim was evidently a personage. The rough
+farmers commonly squeezed a way for him. And when they did not, he made
+it with his big body. As they drew near their haven, a great surging as
+of a tidal wave swept them off their feet. There was a deafening shout,
+and the stand rocked on its foundations. Before Stephen could collect his
+wits, a fierce battle was raging about him. Abolitionist and Democrat,
+Free Soiler and Squatter Sov, defaced one another in a rush for the
+platform. The committeemen and reporters on top of it rose to its
+defence. Well for Stephen that his companion was along. Jim was
+recognized and hauled bodily into the fort, and Stephen after him. The
+populace were driven off, and when the excitement died down again, he
+found himself in the row behind the reporters. Young Mr. Hill paused
+while sharpening his pencil to wave him a friendly greeting.
+
+Stephen, craning in his seat, caught sight of Mr. Lincoln slouched into
+one of his favorite attitudes, his chin resting in his hand.
+
+But who is this, erect, compact, aggressive, searching with a confident
+eye the wilderness of upturned faces? A personage, truly, to be
+questioned timidly, to be approached advisedly. Here indeed was a lion,
+by the very look of him, master of himself and of others. By reason of
+its regularity and masculine strength, a handsome face. A man of the
+world to the cut of the coat across the broad shoulders. Here was one to
+lift a youngster into the realm of emulation, like a character in a play,
+to arouse dreams of Washington and its senators and great men. For this
+was one to be consulted by the great alone. A figure of dignity and
+power, with magnetism to compel moods. Since, when he smiled, you warmed
+in spite of yourself, and when he frowned the world looked grave.
+
+The inevitable comparison was come, and Stephen's hero was shrunk once
+more. He drew a deep breath, searched for the word, and gulped. There was
+but the one word. How country Abraham Lincoln looked beside Stephen
+Arnold Douglas!
+
+Had the Lord ever before made and set over against each other two such
+different men? Yes, for such are the ways of the Lord.
+
+          ........................
+
+The preliminary speaking was in progress, but Stephen neither heard nor
+saw until he felt the heavy hand of his companion on his knee.
+
+"There's something mighty strange, like fate, between them two," he was
+saying. "I recklect twenty-five years ago when they was first in the
+Legislatur' together. A man told me that they was both admitted to
+practice in the S'preme Court in '39, on the same day, sir. Then you know
+they was nip an' tuck after the same young lady. Abe got her. They've
+been in Congress together, the Little Giant in the Senate, and now, here
+they be in the greatest set of debates the people of this state ever
+heard; Young man, the hand of fate is in this here, mark my words--"
+
+There was a hush, and the waves of that vast human sea were stilled. A
+man, lean, angular, with coat-tail: flapping-unfolded like a grotesque
+figure at a side-show.
+
+No confidence was there. Stooping forward, Abraham Lincoln began to
+speak, and Stephen Brice hung his head and shuddered. Could this shrill
+falsetto be the same voice to which he had listened only that morning?
+Could this awkward, yellow man with his hands behind his back be he whom
+he had worshipped? Ripples of derisive laughter rose here and there, on
+the stand and from the crowd. Thrice distilled was the agony of those
+moments!
+
+But what was this feeling that gradually crept over him? Surprise?
+Cautiously he raised his eyes. The hands were coming around to the front.
+Suddenly one of them was thrown sharply back, with a determined gesture,
+the head was raised,--and.--and his shame was for gotten. In its stead
+wonder was come. But soon he lost even that, for his mind was gone on a
+journey. And when again he came to himself and looked upon Abraham
+Lincoln, this was a man transformed. The voice was no longer shrill. Nay,
+it was now a powerful instrument which played strangely on those who
+heard. Now it rose, and again it fell into tones so low as to start a
+stir which spread and spread, like a ripple in a pond, until it broke on
+the very edge of that vast audience.
+
+   "Can the people of a United States Territory, in any lawful way,
+   against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude
+   slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State
+   Constitution?"
+
+It was out, at last, irrevocably writ in the recording book of History,
+for better, for worse. Beyond the reach of politician, committee, or
+caucus. But what man amongst those who heard and stirred might say that
+these minutes even now basting into eternity held the Crisis of a nation
+that is the hope of the world? Not you, Judge Douglas who sit there
+smiling. Consternation is a stranger in your heart,--but answer the
+question if you can. Yes, your nimble wit has helped you out of many a
+tight corner. You do not feel the noose--as yet. You do not guess that
+your reply will make or mar the fortunes of your country. It is not you
+who can look ahead two short years and see the ship of Democracy
+splitting on the rocks at Charleston and at Baltimore, when the power of
+your name might have steered her safely.
+
+But see! what is this man about whom you despise? One by one he is taking
+the screws out of the engine which you have invented to run your ship.
+Look, he holds them in his hands without mixing them, and shows the false
+construction of its secret parts.
+
+For Abraham Lincoln dealt with abstruse questions in language so limpid
+that many a farmer, dulled by toil, heard and understood and marvelled.
+The simplicity of the Bible dwells in those speeches, and they are now
+classics in our literature. And the wonder in Stephen's mind was that
+this man who could be a buffoon, whose speech was coarse and whose person
+unkempt, could prove himself a tower of morality and truth. That has
+troubled many another, before and since the debate at Freeport.
+
+That short hour came all too quickly to an end. And as the Moderator gave
+the signal for Mr. Lincoln, it was Stephen's big companion who snapped
+the strain, and voiced the sentiment of those about him.
+
+"By Gosh!" he cried, "he baffles Steve. I didn't think Abe had it in
+him."
+
+The Honorable Stephen A. Douglas, however, seemed anything but baffled as
+he rose to reply. As he waited for the cheers which greeted him to die
+out, his attitude was easy and indifferent, as a public man's should be.
+The question seemed not to trouble him in the least. But for Stephen
+Brice the Judge stood there stripped of the glamour that made him, even
+as Abraham Lincoln had stripped his doctrine of its paint and colors, and
+left it punily naked.
+
+Standing up, the very person of the Little Giant was contradictory, as
+was the man himself. His height was insignificant. But he had the head
+and shoulders of a lion, and even the lion's roar. What at contrast the
+ring of his deep bass to the tentative falsetto of Mr. Lincoln's opening
+words. If Stephen expected the Judge to tremble, he was greatly
+disappointed. Mr. Douglas was far from dismay. As if to show the people
+how lightly he held his opponent's warnings, he made them gape by putting
+things down Mr. Lincoln's shirt-front and taking them out of his mouth:
+But it appeared to Stephen, listening with all his might, that the Judge
+was a trifle more on the defensive than his attitude might lead one to
+expect. Was he not among his own Northern Democrats at Freeport? And yet
+it seemed to give him a keen pleasure to call his hearers "Black
+Republicans." "Not black," came from the crowd again and again, and once
+a man: shouted, "Couldn't you modify it and call it brown?" "Not a whit!"
+cried the Judge, and dubbed them "Yankees," although himself a Vermonter
+by birth. He implied that most of these Black Republicans desired negro
+wives.
+
+But quick,--to the Question, How was the Little Giant, artful in debate
+as he was, to get over that without offence to the great South? Very
+skillfully the judge disposed of the first of the interrogations. And
+then, save for the gusts of wind rustling the trees, the grove might have
+been empty of its thousands, such was the silence that fell. But tighter
+and tighter they pressed against the stand, until it trembled.
+
+Oh, Judge, the time of all artful men will come at length. How were you
+to foresee a certain day under the White Dome of the Capitol? Had your
+sight been long, you would have paused before your answer. Had your sight
+been long, you would have seen this ugly Lincoln bareheaded before the
+Nation, and you are holding his hat. Judge Douglas, this act alone has
+redeemed your faults. It has given you a nobility of which we did not
+suspect you. At the end God gave you strength to be humble, and so you
+left the name of a patriot.
+
+Judge, you thought there was a passage between Scylla and Charybdis which
+your craftiness might overcome.
+
+"It matters not," you cried when you answered the Question, "it matters
+not which way the Supreme Court may hereafter decide as to the abstract
+question whether slavery may or may not go into a territory under the
+Constitution. The people have the lawful means to introduce or to exclude
+it as they please, for the reason that slavery cannot exist a day or an
+hour anywhere unless it is supported by local police regulations."
+
+Judge Douglas, uneasy will you lie to-night, for you have uttered the
+Freeport Heresy.
+
+It only remains to be told how Stephen Brice, coming to the Brewster
+House after the debate, found Mr. Lincoln. On his knee, in transports of
+delight, was a small boy, and Mr. Lincoln was serenely playing on the
+child's Jew's-harp. Standing beside him was a proud father who had
+dragged his son across two counties in a farm wagon, and who was to
+return on the morrow to enter this event in the family Bible. In a corner
+of the room were several impatient gentlemen of influence who wished to
+talk about the Question.
+
+But when he saw Stephen, Mr. Lincoln looked up with a smile of welcome
+that is still, and ever will be, remembered and cherished.
+
+"Tell Judge Whipple that I have attended to that little matter, Steve," he
+said.
+
+"Why, Mr. Lincoln," he exclaimed, "you have had no time."
+
+"I have taken the time," Mr. Lincoln replied, "and I think that I am well
+repaid. Steve," said he, "unless I'm mightily mistaken, you know a little
+more than you did yesterday."
+
+"Yes, sir! I do," said Stephen.
+
+"Come, Steve," said Mr. Lincoln, "be honest. Didn't you feel sorry for me
+last night?"
+
+Stephen flushed scarlet.
+
+"I never shall again, sir," he said.
+
+The wonderful smile, so ready to come and go, flickered and went out. In
+its stead on the strange face was ineffable sadness,--the sadness of the
+world's tragedies, of Stephen stoned, of Christ crucified.
+
+"Pray God that you may feel sorry for me again," he said.
+
+Awed, the child on his lap was still. The politician had left the room.
+Mr. Lincoln had kept Stephen's hand in his own.
+
+"I have hopes of you, Stephen," he said. "Do not forget me."
+
+Stephen Brice never has. Why was it that he walked to the station with a
+heavy heart? It was a sense of the man he had left, who had been and was
+to be. This Lincoln of the black loam, who built his neighbor's cabin and
+hoed his neighbor's corn, who had been storekeeper and postmaster and
+flat-boatman. Who had followed a rough judge dealing a rough justice
+around a rough circuit; who had rolled a local bully in the dirt; rescued
+women from insult; tended the bedside of many a sick coward who feared
+the Judgment; told coarse stories on barrels by candlelight (but these
+are pure beside the vice of great cities); who addressed political mobs
+in the raw, swooping down from the stump and flinging embroilers east and
+west. This physician who was one day to tend the sickbed of the Nation in
+her agony; whose large hand was to be on her feeble pulse, and whose
+knowledge almost divine was to perform the miracle of her healing. So was
+it that, the Physician Himself performed His cures, and when work was
+done, died a martyr.
+
+Abraham Lincoln died in His name
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+It was nearly noon when Stephen walked into the office the next day,
+dusty and travel-worn and perspiring. He had come straight from the
+ferry, without going home. And he had visions of a quiet dinner with
+Richter under the trees at the beer-garden, where he could talk about
+Abraham Lincoln. Had Richter ever heard of Lincoln?
+
+But the young German met him at the top of the stair--and his face was
+more serious than usual, although he showed his magnificent teeth in a
+smile of welcome.
+
+"You are a little behind your time, my friend," said he, "What has
+happened you?"
+
+"Didn't the Judge get Mr, Lincoln's message?" asked Stephen, with
+anxiety.
+
+The German shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Ah, I know not," he answered, "He has gone is Glencoe. The Judge is ill,
+Stephen. Doctor Polk says that he has worked all his life too hard. The
+Doctor and Colonel Carvel tried to get him to go to Glencoe. But he would
+not budge until Miss Carvel herself comes all the way from the country
+yesterday, and orders him. Ach!" exclaimed Richter, impulsively, "what
+wonderful women you have in America! I could lose my head when I think of
+Miss Carvel."
+
+"Miss Carvel was here, you say?" Stephen repeated, in a tone of inquiry.
+
+"Donner!" said Richter, disgusted, "you don't care."
+
+Stephen laughed, in spite of himself.
+
+"Why should I?" he answered. And becoming grave again, added: "Except on
+Judge Whipple's account. Have you heard from him to-day, Carl?"
+
+"This morning one of Colonel Carvel's servants came for his letters. He
+must be feeling better. I--I pray that he is better," said Richter, his
+voice breaking. "He has been very good to me."
+
+Stephen said nothing. But he had been conscious all at once of an
+affection for the Judge of which he had not suspected himself. That
+afternoon, on his way home, he stopped at Carvel & Company's to inquire.
+Mr. Whipple was better, so Mr. Hopper said, and added that he "presumed
+likely the Colonel would not be in for a week." It was then Saturday.
+Eliphalet was actually in the Colonel's sanctum behind the partition,
+giving orders to several clerks at the time. He was so prosperous and
+important that he could scarce spare a moment to answer Stephen, who went
+away wondering whether he had been wise to choose the law.
+
+On Monday, when Stephen called at Carvel & Company's, Eliphalet was too
+busy to see him. But Ephum, who went out to Glencoe every night with
+orders, told him that the "Jedge was wuss, suh." On Wednesday, there
+being little change, Mrs. Brice ventured to despatch a jelly by Ephum. On
+Friday afternoon, when Stephen was deep in Whittlesey and the New Code,
+he became aware of Ephum standing beside him. In reply to his anxious
+question Ephum answered:
+
+"I reckon he better, suh. He an' de Colonel done commence wrastlin' 'bout
+a man name o' Linkum. De Colonel done wrote you dis note, suh."
+
+It was a very polite note, containing the Colonel's compliments, asking
+Mr. Brice to Glencoe that afternoon with whatever papers or letters the
+Judge might wish to see. And since there was no convenient train in the
+evening, Colonel Carvel would feel honored if Mr. Brice would spend the
+night. The Colonel mentioned the train on which Mr. Brice was expected.
+
+The Missouri side of the Mississippi is a very different country from the
+hot and treeless prairies of Illinois. As Stephen alighted at the little
+station at Glencoe and was driven away by Ned in the Colonel's buggy, he
+drew in deep breaths of the sweet air of the Meramec Valley.
+
+There had been a shower, and the sun glistened on the drops on grass and
+flowers, and the great trees hung heavy over the clay road. At last they
+came to a white gate in the picket fence, in sight of a rambling wooden
+house with a veranda in front covered with honeysuckle. And then he saw
+the Colonel, in white marseilles, smoking a cigar. This, indeed, was real
+country.
+
+As Stephen trod the rough flags between the high grass which led toward
+the house, Colonel Carvel rose to his full height and greeted him.
+
+"You are very welcome, sir," he said gravely. "The Judge is asleep now,"
+he added. "I regret to say that we had a little argument this morning,
+and my daughter tells me it will be well not to excite him again to-day.
+Jinny is reading to him now, or she would be here to entertain you, Mr.
+Brice. Jackson!" cried Mr. Carvel, "show Mr. Brice to his room."
+
+Jackson appeared hurriedly, seized Stephen's bag, and led the way
+upstairs through the cool and darkened house to a pretty little room on
+the south side, with matting, and roses on the simple dressing-table.
+After he had sat awhile staring at these, and at the wet flower-garden
+from between the slats of his shutters, he removed the signs of the
+railroad upon him, and descended. The Colonel was still on the porch, in
+his easy-chair. He had lighted another, cigar, and on the stand beside
+him stood two tall glasses, green with the fresh mint. Colonel Carvel
+rose, and with his own hand offered one to Stephen.
+
+"Your health, Mr. Brice," he said, "and I hope you will feel at home
+here, sir. Jackson will bring you anything you desire, and should you
+wish to drive, I shall be delighted to show you the country."
+
+Stephen drank that julep with reverence, and then the Colonel gave him a
+cigar. He was quite overcome by this treatment of a penniless young
+Yankee. The Colonel did not talk politics--such was not his notion of
+hospitality to a stranger. He talked horse, and no great discernment on
+Stephen's part was needed to perceive that this was Mr. Carvel's hobby.
+
+"I used to have a stable, Mr. Brice, before they ruined gentleman's sport
+with these trotters ten years ago. Yes sir, we used to be at Lexington
+one week, and Louisville the next, and over here on the Ames track after
+that. Did you ever hear of Water Witch and Netty Boone?"
+
+Yes, Stephen had, from Mr. Jack Brinsmade.
+
+The Colonel's face beamed.
+
+"Why, sir," he cried, "that very nigger, Ned, who drove you here from the
+cars-he used to ride Netty Boone. Would you believe that, Mr. Brice? He
+was the best jockey ever strode a horse on the Elleardsville track here.
+He wore my yellow and green, sir, until he got to weigh one hundred and a
+quarter. And I kept him down to that weight a whole year, Mr. Brice. Yes,
+sirree, a whole year."
+
+"Kept him down!" said Stephen.
+
+"Why, yes, sir. I had him wrapped in blankets and set in a chair with
+holes bored in the seat. Then we lighted a spirit lamp under him. Many a
+time I took off ten pounds that way. It needs fire to get flesh off a
+nigger, sir."
+
+He didn't notice his guest's amazement.
+
+"Then, sir," he continued, "they introduced these damned trotting races;
+trotting races are for white trash, Mr. Brice."
+
+"Pa!"
+
+The Colonel stopped short. Stephen was already on his feet. I wish you
+could have seen Miss Virginia Carvel as he saw her then. She wore a white
+lawn dress. A tea-tray was in her hand, and her head was tilted back, as
+women are apt to do when they carry a burden. It was so that these
+Southern families, who were so bitter against Abolitionists and Yankees,
+entertained them when they were poor, and nursed them when they were ill.
+
+Stephen, for his life, could not utter a word. But Virginia turned to him
+with perfect self-possession.
+
+"He has been boring you with his horses, Mr. Brice," she said. "Has he
+told you what a jockey Ned used to be before he weighed one hundred and a
+quarter?" (A laugh.) "Has he given you the points of Water Witch and
+Netty Boone?" (More laughter, increasing embarrassment for Stephen.) "Pa,
+I tell you once more that you will drive every guest from this house.
+Your jockey talk is intolerable."
+
+O that you might have a notion of the way in which Virginia pronounced
+intolerable.
+
+Mr. Carvel reached for another cigar asked, "My dear," he asked, "how is
+the Judge?"
+
+"My dear," said Virginia, smiling, "he is asleep. Mammy Easter is with
+him, trying to make out what he is saying. He talks in his sleep, just as
+you do--"
+
+"And what is he saying?" demanded the Colonel, interested.
+
+Virginia set down the tray.
+
+"'A house divided against itself,'" said Miss Carvel, with a sweep of her
+arm, "'cannot stand. I believe that this Government cannot endure
+permanently, half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to
+dissolve--I do not expect the house to fall--but I do expect it will
+cease to be divided.' Would you like any more?" added Miss Virginia.
+
+"No," cried the Colonel, and banged his fist down on the table. "Why,"
+said he, thoughtfully, stroking the white goatee on his chin, "cuss me if
+that ain't from the speech that country bumpkin, Lincoln, made in June
+last before the Black Republican convention in Illinois."
+
+Virginia broke again into laughter. And Stephen was very near it, for he
+loved the Colonel. That gentleman suddenly checked himself in his tirade,
+and turned to him.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said; "I reckon that you have the same
+political sentiments as the Judge. Believe me, sir, I would not willingly
+offend a guest."
+
+Stephen smiled. "I am not offended, sir," he said. A speech which caused
+Mr. Carvel to bestow a quick glance upon him. But Stephen did not see it.
+He was looking at Virginia.
+
+The Colonel rose.
+
+"You will pardon my absence for a while, sir," he said.
+
+"My daughter will entertain you."
+
+In silence they watched him as he strode off under the trees through tall
+grass, a yellow setter at his heels. A strange peace was over Stephen.
+The shadows of the walnuts and hickories were growing long, and a rich
+country was giving up its scent to the evening air. From a cabin behind
+the house was wafted the melody of a plantation song. To the young man,
+after the burnt city, this was paradise. And then he remembered his
+mother as she must be sitting on the tiny porch in town, and sighed. Only
+two years ago she had been at their own place at Westbury.
+
+He looked up, and saw the girl watching him. He dared not think that the
+expression he caught was one of sympathy, for it changed instantly.
+
+"I am afraid you are the silent kind, Mr. Brice," said she; "I believe it
+is a Yankee trait."
+
+Stephen laughed.
+
+"I have known a great many who were not," said he, "When they are
+garrulous, they are very much so."
+
+"I should prefer a garrulous one," said Virginia.
+
+"I should think a Yankee were bad enough, but a noisy Yankee not to be
+put up with," he ventured.
+
+Virginia did not deign a direct reply to this, save by the corners of her
+mouth.
+
+"I wonder," said she, thoughtfully, "whether it is strength of mind or a
+lack of ideas that makes them silent."
+
+"It is mostly prudence," said Mr. Brice. "Prudence is our dominant
+trait."
+
+Virginia fidgeted. Usually she had an easier time.
+
+"You have not always shown it," she said, with an innocence which in
+women is often charged with meaning.
+
+Stephen started. Her antagonism was still there. He would have liked
+greatly to know whether she referred to his hasty purchase of Hester, or
+to his rashness in dancing with her at her party the winter before.
+
+"We have something left to be thankful for," he answered. "We are still
+capable of action."
+
+"On occasions it is violence," said Virginia, desperately. This man must
+not get ahead of her.
+
+"It is just as violent," said he, "as the repressed feeling which prompts
+it."
+
+This was a new kind of conversation to Virginia. Of all the young men she
+knew, not one had ever ventured into anything of the sort. They were
+either flippant, or sentimental, or both. She was at once flattered and
+annoyed, flattered, because, as a woman, Stephen had conceded her a mind.
+Many of the young men she knew had minds, but deemed that these were
+wasted on women, whose language was generally supposed to be a kind of
+childish twaddle. Even Jack Brinsmade rarely risked his dignity and
+reputation at an intellectual tilt. This was one of Virginia's
+grievances. She often argued with her father, and, if the truth were
+told, had had more than one victory over Judge Whipple.
+
+Virginia's annoyance came from the fact that she perceived in Stephen a
+natural and merciless logic,--a faculty for getting at the bottom of
+things. His brain did not seem to be thrown out of gear by local magnetic
+influences,--by beauty, for instance. He did not lose his head, as did
+some others she knew, at the approach of feminine charms. Here was a
+grand subject, then, to try the mettle of any woman. One with less mettle
+would have given it up. But Virginia thought it would be delightful to
+bring this particular Yankee to his knees; and--and leave him there.
+
+"Mr. Brice," she said, "I have not spoken to you since the night of my
+party. I believe we danced together."
+
+"Yes, we did," said he, "and I called, but was unfortunate."
+
+"You called?"
+
+Ah, Virginia!
+
+"They did not tell you!" cried Stephen.
+
+Now Miss Carvel was complacency itself.
+
+"Jackson is so careless with cards," said she, "and very often I do not
+take the trouble to read them."
+
+"I am sorry," said he, "as I wished for the opportunity to tell you how
+much I enjoyed myself. I have found everybody in St. Louis very kind to
+strangers."
+
+Virginia was nearly disarmed. She remembered how, she had opposed his
+coning. But honesty as well as something else prompted her to say: "It
+was my father who invited you."
+
+Stephen did not reveal the shock his vanity had received.
+
+"At least you were good enough to dance with me."
+
+"I could scarcely refuse a guest," she replied.
+
+He held up his head.
+
+"Had I thought it would have given you annoyance," he said quietly, "I
+should not have asked you."
+
+"Which would have been a lack of good manners," said Virginia, biting her
+lips.
+
+Stephen answered nothing, but wished himself in St. Louis. He could not
+comprehend her cruelty. But, just then, the bell rang for supper, and the
+Colonel appeared around the end of the house.
+
+It was one of those suppers for which the South is renowned. And when at
+length he could induce Stephen to eat no more, Colonel Carvel reached for
+his broad-brimmed felt bat, and sat smoking, with his feet against the
+mantle. Virginia, who had talked but little, disappeared with a tray on
+which she had placed with her own hands some dainties to tempt the Judge.
+
+The Colonel regaled Stephen, when she was gone, with the pedigree and
+performance of every horse he had had in his stable. And this was a
+relief, as it gave him an opportunity to think without interruption upon
+Virginia's pronounced attitude of dislike. To him it was inconceivable
+that a young woman of such qualities as she appeared to have, should
+assail him so persistently for freeing a negress, and so depriving her of
+a maid she had set her heart upon. There were other New England young men
+in society. Mr. Weston and Mr. Carpenter, and more. They were not her
+particular friends, to be sure. But they called on her and danced with
+her, and she had shown them not the least antipathy. But it was to
+Stephen's credit that he did not analyze her further.
+
+He was reflecting on these things when he got to his room, when there
+came a knock at the door. It was Mammy Easter, in bright turban and
+apron,--was hospitality and comfort in the flesh.
+
+"Is you got all you need, suh?" she inquired.
+
+Stephen replied that he had. But Mammy showed no inclination to go, and
+he was too polite to shut the door:
+
+"How you like Glencoe, Mistah Bride?"
+
+He was charmed with it.
+
+"We has some of de fust fam'lies out heah in de summer," said she. "But
+de Colonel, he a'n't much on a gran' place laik in Kaintuck. Shucks, no,
+suh, dis ain't much of a 'stablishment! Young Massa won't have no lawns,
+no greenhouses, no nothin'. He say he laik it wil' and simple. He on'y
+come out fo' two months, mebbe. But Miss Jinny, she make it lively. Las'
+week, until the Jedge come we hab dis house chuck full, two-three young
+ladies in a room, an' five young gemmen on trunnle beds."
+
+"Until the Judge came?" echoed Stephen.
+
+"Yassuh. Den Miss Jinny low dey all hatter go. She say she a'n't gwineter
+have 'em noun' 'sturbin' a sick man. De Colonel 'monstrated. He done give
+the Judge his big room, and he say he and de young men gwine ober to
+Mista, Catherwood's. You a'n't never seen Miss Jinny rise up, suh! She
+des swep' 'em all out" (Mammy emphasized this by rolling her hands) "an'
+declah she gwine ten' to the Jedge herself. She a'n't never let me bring
+up one of his meals, suh." And so she left Stephen with some food for
+reflection.
+
+Virginia was very gay at breakfast, and said that the Judge would see
+Stephen; so he and the Colonel, that gentleman with his hat on, went up
+to his room. The shutters were thrown open, and the morning sunlight
+filtered through the leaves and fell on the four-poster where the Judge
+sat up, gaunt and grizzled as ever. He smiled at his host, and then tried
+to destroy immediately the effect of the smile.
+
+"Well, Judge," cried the Colonel, taking his hand, "I reckon we talked
+too much."
+
+"No such thing, Carvel," said the Judge, forcibly, "if you hadn't left
+the room, your popular sovereignty would have been in rags in two
+minutes."
+
+Stephen sat down in a corner, unobserved, in expectation of a renewal.
+But at this moment Miss Virginia swept into the room, very cool in a pink
+muslin.
+
+"Colonel Carvel," said she, sternly, "I am the doctor's deputy here. I
+was told to keep the peace at any cost. And if you answer back, out you
+go, like that!" and she snapped her fingers.
+
+The Colonel laughed. But the Judge, whose mind was on the argument,
+continued to mutter defiantly until his eye fell upon Stephen.
+
+"Well, sir, well, sir," he said, "you've turned up at last, have you? I
+send you off with papers for a man, and I get back a piece of yellow
+paper saying that he's borrowed you. What did he do with you, Mr. Brice?"
+
+"He took me to Freeport, sir, where I listened to the most remarkable
+speech I ever expect to hear."
+
+"What!" cried the Judge, "so far from Boston?"
+
+Stephen hesitated, uncertain whether to laugh, until he chanced to look
+at Virginia. She had pursed her lips.
+
+"I was very much surprised, sir," he said.
+
+"Humph!" grunted Mr. Whipple, "and what did you chink of that ruffian,
+Lincoln?"
+
+"He is the most remarkable man that I have ever met, sir," answered
+Stephen, with emphasis.
+
+"Humph!"
+
+It seemed as if the grunt this time had in it something of approval.
+Stephen had doubt as to the propriety of discussing Mr. Lincoln there,
+and he reddened. Virginia's expression bore a trace of defiance, and Mr.
+Carvel stood with his feet apart, thoughtfully stroking his goatee. But
+Mr. Whipple seemed to have no scruples.
+
+"So you admired Lincoln, Mr. Brice?" he went on. "You must agree with
+that laudatory estimation of him which I read in the Missouri Democrat."
+
+Stephen fidgeted.
+
+"I do, sir, most decidedly," he answered.
+
+"I should hardly expect a conservative Bostonian, of the class which
+respects property, to have said that. It might possibly be a good thing
+if more from your town could hear those debates."
+
+"They will read them, sir; I feel confident of it."
+
+At this point the Colonel could contain himself no longer.
+
+"I reckon I might tell the man who wrote that Democrat article a few
+things, if I could find out who he is," said he.
+
+"Pa!" said Virginia, warningly.
+
+But Stephen had turned a fiery red, "I wrote it, Colonel Carvel," he
+said.
+
+For a dubious instant of silence Colonel Carvel stared. Then--then he
+slapped his knees, broke into a storm of laughter, and went out of the
+room. He left Stephen in a moist state of discomfiture.
+
+The Judge had bolted upright from the pillows.
+
+"You have been neglecting your law, sir," he cried.
+
+"I wrote the article at night," said Stephen, indignantly.
+
+"Then it must have been Sunday night, Mr. Brice."
+
+At this point Virginia hid her face in her handkerchief which trembled
+visibly. Being a woman, whose ways are unaccountable, the older man took
+no notice of her. But being a young woman, and a pretty one, Stephen was
+angry.
+
+"I don't see what right you have to ask me that sir," he said.
+
+"The question is withdrawn, Mr. Brice," said the Judge, "Virginia, you
+may strike it from the records. And now, sir, tell me something about
+your trip."
+
+Virginia departed.
+
+An hour later Stephen descended to the veranda, and it was with
+apprehension that he discerned Mr. Carvel seated under the vines at the
+far end. Virginia was perched on the railing.
+
+To Stephen's surprise the Colonel rose, and, coming toward him, laid a
+kindly hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Stephen," said he, "there will be no law until Monday you must stay with
+us until then. A little rest will do you good."
+
+Stephen was greatly touched.
+
+"Thank you, sir," he said. "I should like to very much. But I can't."
+
+"Nonsense," said the Colonel. "I won't let the Judge interfere."
+
+"It isn't that, sir. I shall have to go by the two o'clock train, I
+fear."
+
+The Colonel turned to Virginia, who, meanwhile, had sat silently by.
+
+"Jinny," he said, "we must contrive to keep him."
+
+She slid off the railing.
+
+"I'm afraid he is determined, Pa," she answered. "But perhaps Mr. Brice
+would like to see a little of the place before he goes. It is very
+primitive," she explained, "not much like yours in the East."
+
+Stephen thanked her, and bowed to the Colonel. And so she led him past
+the low, crooked outbuildings at the back, where he saw old Uncle Ben
+busy over the preparation of his dinner, and frisky Rosetta, his
+daughter, playing with one of the Colonel's setters. Then Virginia took a
+well-worn path, on each side of which the high grass bent with its load
+of seed, which entered the wood. Oaks and hickories and walnuts and
+persimmons spread out in a glade, and the wild grape twisted
+fantastically around the trunks. All this beauty seemed but a fit setting
+to the strong girlish figure in the pink frock before him. So absorbed
+was he in contemplation of this, and in wondering whether indeed she were
+to marry her cousin, Clarence Colfax, that he did not see the wonders of
+view unrolling in front of him. She stopped at length beside a great
+patch of wild race bushes. They were on the edge of the bluff, and in
+front of them a little rustic summer-house, with seats on its five sides.
+Here Virginia sat down. But Stephen, going to the edge, stood and
+marvelled. Far, far below him, down the wooded steep, shot the crystal
+Meramec, chafing over the shallow gravel beds and tearing headlong at the
+deep passes.
+
+Beyond, the dimpled green hills rose and fell, and the stream ran indigo
+and silver. A hawk soared over the, water, the only living creature in
+all that wilderness.
+
+The glory of the place stirred his blood. And when at length he turned,
+he saw that the girl was watching him.
+
+"It is very beautiful," he said.
+
+Virginia had taken other young men here, and they had looked only upon
+her. And yet she was not offended. This sincerity now was as new to her
+as that with which he had surprised her in the Judge's room.
+
+And she was not quite at her ease. A reply to those simple words of his
+was impossible. At honest Tom Catherwood in the same situation she would
+have laughed, Clarence never so much as glanced at scenery. Her replies
+to him were either flippant, or else maternal, as to a child.
+
+A breeze laden with the sweet abundance of that valley stirred her hair.
+And with that womanly gesture which has been the same through the ages
+she put up her hand; deftly tucking in the stray wisp behind.
+
+She glanced at the New Englander, against whom she had been in strange
+rebellion since she had first seen him. His face, thinned by the summer
+in town, was of the sternness of the Puritan. Stephen's features were
+sharply marked for his age. The will to conquer was there. Yet justice
+was in the mouth, and greatness of heart. Conscience was graven on the
+broad forehead. The eyes were the blue gray of the flint, kindly yet
+imperishable. The face was not handsome.
+
+Struggling, then yielding to the impulse, Virginia let herself be led on
+into the years. Sanity was the word that best described him. She saw him
+trusted of men, honored of women, feared by the false. She saw him in
+high places, simple, reserved, poised evenly as he was now.
+
+"Why do you go in this afternoon?" she asked abruptly.
+
+He started at the change in her tone.
+
+"I wish that I might stay," he said regretfully. "But I cannot, Miss
+Carvel."
+
+He gave no reason. And she was too proud to ask it. Never before had she
+stooped to urge young men to stay. The difficulty had always been to get
+them to go. It was natural, perhaps, that her vanity was wounded. But it
+hurt her to think that she had made the overture, had tried to conquer
+whatever it was that set her against him, and had failed through him.
+
+"You must find the city attractive. Perhaps," she added, with a little
+laugh, "perhaps it is Bellefontaine Road."
+
+"No," he answered, smiling.
+
+"Then" (with a touch of derision), "then it is because you cannot miss an
+afternoon's work. You are that kind."
+
+"I was not always that kind," he answered. "I did not work at Harvard.
+But now I have to or--or starve," he said.
+
+For the second time his complete simplicity had disarmed her. He had not
+appealed to her sympathy, nor had he hinted at the luxury in which he was
+brought up. She would have liked to question Stephen on this former life.
+But she changed the subject suddenly.
+
+"What did you really think of Mr. Lincoln?" she asked.
+
+"I thought him the ugliest man I ever saw, and the handsomest as well."
+
+"But you admired him?"
+
+"Yes," said Stephen, gravely.
+
+"You believe with him that this government cannot exist half slave and
+half free. Then a day will come, Mr. Brice, when you and I shall be
+foreigners one to the other."
+
+"You have forgotten," he said eagerly, "you have forgotten the rest of
+the quotation. 'I do not expect the Union to be dissolved--I do not
+expect the house to fall--but cease to be divided.' It will become all
+one thing or all the other."
+
+Virginia laughed. "That seemed to me very equivocal," said she. "Your
+rail-sputter is well named."
+
+"Will you read the rest of that speech?" he asked
+
+"Judge Whipple is very clever. He has made a convert of you," she
+answered.
+
+"The Judge has had nothing to do with it," cried Stephen. "He is not
+given to discussion with me, and until I went to Springfield had never
+mentioned Lincoln's name to me."
+
+Glancing at her, he surprised a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. Then
+she laughed openly.
+
+"Why do you suppose that you were sent to Springfield?" she asked.
+
+"With an important communication for Mr. Lincoln," he answered.
+
+"And that most important communication was--your self. There, now, I have
+told you," said Virginia.
+
+"Was myself? I don't understand."
+
+Virginia puckered her lips.
+
+"Then you haven't the sense I thought you had," she replied impatiently.
+"Do you know what was in that note? No? Well, a year ago last June this
+Black Republican lawyer whom you are all talking of made a speech before
+a convention in Illinois. Judge Whipple has been crazy on the subject
+ever since--he talks of Lincoln in his sleep; he went to Springfield and
+spent two days with him, and now he can't rest until you have seen and
+known and heard him. So he writes a note to Lincoln and asks him to take
+you to the debate--"
+
+She paused again to laugh at his amazement.
+
+"But he told me to go to Springfield!" he exclaimed.
+
+"He told you to find Lincoln. He knew that you would obey his orders, I
+suppose."
+
+"But I didn't know--" Stephen began, trying to come pass within an
+instant the memory of his year's experience with Mr. Whipple.
+
+"You didn't know that he thought anything about you," said Virginia.
+"That is his way, Mr. Brice. He has more private charities on his list
+than any man in the city except Mr. Brinsmade. Very few know it. He
+thinks a great deal of you. But there," she added, suddenly blushing
+crimson, "I am sorry I told you."
+
+"Why?" he asked.
+
+She did not answer, but sat tapping the seat with her fingers. And when
+she ventured to look at him, he had fallen into thought.
+
+"I think it must be time for dinner," said Virginia, "if you really wish
+to catch the train."
+
+The coldness in her voice, rather than her words, aroused him. He rose,
+took one lingering look at the river, and followed her to the house.
+
+At dinner, when not talking about his mare, the Colonel was trying to
+persuade Stephen to remain. Virginia did not join in this, and her father
+thought the young man's refusal sprang from her lack of cordiality.
+Colonel Carvel himself drove to the station.
+
+When he returned, he found his daughter sitting idly on the porch.
+
+"I like that young man, if he is a Yankee," he declared.
+
+"I don't," said Virginia, promptly.
+
+"My dear," said her father, voicing the hospitality of the Carvels, "I am
+surprised at you. One should never show one's feelings toward a guest. As
+mistress of this house it was your duty to press him to stay."
+
+"He did not want to stay."
+
+"Do you know why he went, my dear," asked the Colonel.
+
+"No," said Virginia.
+
+"I asked him," said the Colonel.
+
+"Pa! I did not think it of you!" she cried. And then, "What was it?" she
+demanded.
+
+"He said that his mother was alone in town, and needed him."
+
+Virginia got up without a word, and went into Judge Whipple's room. And
+there the Colonel found her some hours later, reading aloud from a
+scrap-book certain speeches of Mr. Lincoln's which Judge Whipple had cut
+from newspapers. And the Judge, lying back with his eyes half closed, was
+listening in pure delight. Little did he guess at Virginia's penance!
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Crisis, Volume 3, by Winston Churchill
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