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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5392.txt b/5392.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..17a07a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/5392.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3549 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crisis, Volume 5, 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 5 + +Author: Winston Churchill + +Release Date: October 19, 2004 [EBook #5392] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, VOLUME 5 *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE CRISIS + +By Winston Churchill + + +Volume 5. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE GUNS OF SUMTER + +Winter had vanished. Spring was come with a hush. Toward a little island +set in the blue waters of Charleston harbor anxious eyes were strained. + +Was the flag still there? + +God alone may count the wives and mothers who listened in the still hours +of the night for the guns of Sumter. One sultry night in April Stephen's +mother awoke with fear in her heart, for she had heard them. Hark! that +is the roar now, faint but sullen. That is the red flash far across the +black Southern sky. For in our beds are the terrors and cruelties of life +revealed to us. There is a demon to be faced, and nought alone. + +Mrs. Brice was a brave woman. She walked that night with God. + +Stephen, too, awoke. The lightning revealed her as she bent over him. On +the wings of memory be flew back to his childhood in the great Boston +house with the rounded front, and he saw the nursery with its high +windows looking out across the Common. Often in the dark had she come to +him thus, her gentle hand passing over aim to feel if he were covered. + +"What is it, mother?" he said. + +She said: "Stephen, I am afraid that the war has come." + +He sat up, blindly. Even he did not guess the agony in her heart. + +"You will have to go, Stephen." + +It was long before his answer came. + +"You know that I cannot, mother. We have nothing left but the little I +earn. And if I were--" He did not finish the sentence, for he felt her +trembling. But she said again, with that courage which seems woman's +alone: + +"Remember Wilton Brice. Stephen--I can get along. I can sew." + +It was the hour he had dreaded, stolen suddenly upon him out of the +night. How many times had he rehearsed this scene to himself! He, Stephen +Brice, who had preached and slaved and drilled for the Union, a renegade +to be shunned by friend and foe alike! He had talked for his country, but +he would not risk his life for it. He heard them repeating the charge. He +saw them passing him silently on the street. Shamefully he remembered the +time, five months agone, when he had worn the very uniform of his +Revolutionary ancestor. And high above the tier of his accusers he saw +one face, and the look of it stung to the very quick of his soul. + +Before the storm he had fallen asleep in sheer weariness of the struggle, +that face shining through the black veil of the darkness. If he were to +march away in the blue of his country (alas, not of hers!) she would +respect him for risking life for conviction. If he stayed at home, she +would not understand. It was his plain duty to his mother. And yet he +knew that Virginia Carvel and the women like her were ready to follow +with bare feet the march of the soldiers of the South. + +The rain was come now, in a flood. Stephen's mother could not see in the +blackness the bitterness on his face. Above the roar of the waters she +listened for his voice. + +"I will not go, mother," he said. "If at length every man is needed, that +will be different." + +"It is for you to decide, my son," she answered. "There are many ways in +which you can serve your country here. But remember that you may have to +face hard things." + +"I have had to do that before, mother," he replied calmly. "I cannot +leave you dependent upon charity." + +She went back into her room to pray, for she knew that he had laid his +ambition at her feet. + +It was not until a week later that the dreaded news came. All through the +Friday shells had rained on the little fort while Charleston looked on. +No surrender yet. Through a wide land was that numbness which precedes +action. Force of habit sent men to their places of business, to sit idle. +A prayerful Sunday intervened. Sumter had fallen. South Carolina had shot +to bits the flag she had once revered. + +On the Monday came the call of President Lincoln for volunteers. Missouri +was asked for her quota. The outraged reply of her governor went back, +--never would she furnish troops to invade her sister states. Little did +Governor Jackson foresee that Missouri was to stand fifth of all the +Union in the number of men she was to give. To her was credited in the +end even more men than stanch Massachusetts. + +The noise of preparation was in the city--in the land. On the Monday +morning, when Stephen went wearily to the office, he was met by Richter +at the top of the stairs, who seized his shoulders and looked into his +face. The light of the zealot was on Richter's own. + +"We shall drill every night now, my friend, until further orders. It is +the Leader's word. Until we go to the front, Stephen, to put down +rebellion." Stephen sank into a chair, and bowed his head. What would he +think,--this man who had fought and suffered and renounced his native +land for his convictions? Who in this nobler allegiance was ready to die +for them? How was he to confess to Richter, of all men? + +"Carl," he said at length, "I--I cannot go." + +"You--you cannot go? You who have done so much already! And why?" + +Stephen did not answer. But Richter, suddenly divining, laid his hands +impulsively on Stephen's shoulders. + +"Ach, I see," he said. "Stephen, I have saved some money. It shall be for +your mother while you are away." + +At first Stephen was too surprised for speech. Then, in spite of his +feelings, he stared at the German with a new appreciation of his +character. Then he could merely shake his head. + +"Is it not for the Union?" implored Richter, "I would give a fortune, if +I had it. Ah, my friend, that would please me so. And I do not need the +money now. I 'have--nobody." + +Spring was in the air; the first faint smell of verdure wafted across the +river on the wind. Stephen turned to the open window, tears of intense +agony in his eyes. In that instant he saw the regiment marching, and the +flag flying at its head. + +"It is my duty to stay here, Carl," he said brokenly. + +Richter took an appealing step toward him and stopped. He realized that +with this young New Englander a decision once made was unalterable. In +all his knowledge of Stephen he never remembered him to change. With the +demonstrative sympathy of his race, he yearned to comfort him, and knew +not how. Two hundred years of Puritanism had reared barriers not to be +broken down. + +At the end of the office the stern figure of the Judge appeared. + +"Mr. Brice!" he said sharply. + +Stephen followed him into the littered room behind the ground glass door, +scarce knowing what to expect,--and scarce caring, as on that first day +he had gone in there. Mr. Whipple himself closed the door, and then the +transom. Stephen felt those keen eyes searching him from their +hiding-place. + +"Mr. Brice," he said at last, "the President has called for seventy-five +thousand volunteers to crush this rebellion. They will go, and be +swallowed up, and more will go to fill their places. Mr. Brice, people +will tell you that the war will be over in ninety days. But I tell you, +sir, that it will not be over in seven times ninety days." He brought +down his fist heavily upon the table. "This, sir, will be a war to the +death. One side or the other will fight until their blood is all let, and +until their homes are all ruins." He darted at Stephen one look from +under those fierce eyebrows. "Do you intend to go sir?" + +Stephen met the look squarely. "No, sir," he answered, steadily, "not +now." + +"Humph," said the Judge. Then he began what seemed a never-ending search +among the papers on his desk. At length he drew out a letter, put on his +spectacles and read it, and finally put it down again. + +"Stephen," said Mr. Whipple, "you are doing a courageous thing. But if we +elect to follow our conscience in this world, we must not expect to +escape persecution, sir. Two weeks ago," he continued slowly, "two weeks +ago I had a letter from Mr. Lincoln about matters here. He mentions you." + +"He remembers me!" cried Stephen + +The Judge smiled a little. "Mr. Lincoln never forgets any one," said he. +"He wishes me to extend to you his thanks for your services to the +Republican party, and sends you his kindest regards." + +This was the first and only time that Mr. Whipple spoke to him of his +labors. Stephen has often laughed at this since, and said that he would +not have heard of them at all had not the Judge's sense of duty compelled +him to convey the message. And it was with a lighter heart than he had +felt for many a day that he went out of the door. + +Some weeks later, five regiments were mustered into the service of the +United States. The Leader was in command of one. And in response to his +appeals, despite the presence of officers of higher rank, the President +had given Captain Nathaniel Lyon supreme command in Missouri. + +Stephen stood among the angry, jeering crowd that lined the streets as +the regiments marched past. Here were the 'Black Jaegers.' No wonder the +crowd laughed. Their step was not as steady, nor their files as straight +as Company A. There was Richter, his head high, his blue eyes defiant. +And there was little Tiefel marching in that place of second lieutenant +that Stephen himself should have filled. Here was another company, and at +the end of the first four, big Tom Catherwood. His father had disowned +him the day before, His two brothers, George and little Spencer, were in +a house not far away--a house from which a strange flag drooped. + +Clouds were lowering over the city, and big drops falling, as Stephen +threaded his way homeward, the damp anal gloom of the weather in his very +soul. He went past the house where the strange flag hung against its +staff In that big city it flaunted all unchallenged. The house was thrown +wide open that day, and in its window lounged young men of honored +families. And while they joked of German boorishness and Yankee cowardice +they held rifles across their knees to avenge any insult to the strange +banner that they had set up. In the hall, through the open doorway, the +mouth of a shotted field gun could be seen. The guardians were the Minute +Men, organized to maintain the honor and dignity of the state of +Missouri. + +Across the street from the house was gathered a knot of curious people, +and among these Stephen paused. Two young men were standing on the steps, +and one was Clarence Colfax. His hands were in his pockets, and a +careless, scornful smile was on his face when he glanced down into the +street. Stephen caught that smile. Anger swept over him in a hot flame, +as at the slave auction years agone. That was the unquenchable fire of +the war. The blood throbbed in his temples as his feet obeyed,--and yet +he stopped. + +What right had he to pull down that flag, to die on the pavement before +that house? + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +CAMP JACKSON + +What enthusiasm on that gusty Monday morning, the Sixth of May, 1861! +Twelfth Street to the north of the Market House is full three hundred +feet across, and the militia of the Sovereign State of Missouri is +gathering there. Thence by order of her Governor they are to march to +Camp Jackson for a week of drill and instruction. + +Half a mile nearer the river, on the house of the Minute Men, the strange +flag leaps wildly in the wind this day. + +On Twelfth Street the sun is shining, drums are beating, and bands are +playing, and bright aides dashing hither and thither on spirited +chargers. One by one the companies are marching up, and taking place in +line; the city companies in natty gray fatigue, the country companies +often in their Sunday clothes. But they walk with heads erect and chests +out, and the ladies wave their gay parasols and cheer them. Here are the +aristocratic St. Louis Grays, Company A; there come the Washington Guards +and Washington Blues, and Laclede Guards and Missouri Guards and Davis +Guards. Yes, this is Secession Day, this Monday. And the colors are the +Stars and Stripes and the Arms of Missouri crossed. + +What are they waiting for? Why don't they move? Hark! A clatter and a +cloud of dust by the market place, an ecstasy of cheers running in waves +the length of the crowd. Make way for the dragoons! Here they come at +last, four and four, the horses prancing and dancing and pointing +quivering ears at the tossing sea of hats and parasols and ribbons. Maude +Catherwood squeezes Virginia's arm. There, riding in front, erect and +firm in the saddle, is Captain Clarence Colfax. Virginia is red and +white, and red again,--true colors of the Confederacy. How proud she was +of him now! How ashamed that she even doubted him! Oh, that was his true +calling, a soldier's life. In that moment she saw him at the head of +armies, from the South, driving the Yankee hordes northward and still +northward until the roar of the lakes warns them of annihilation. She saw +his chivalry sparing them. Yes, this is Secession Monday. + +Down to a trot they slow, Clarence's black thorough-bred arching his long +neck, proud as his master of the squadron which follows, four and four. +The square young man of bone and sinew in the first four, whose horse is +built like a Crusader's, is George Catherwood. And Eugenie gives a cry +and points to the rear where Maurice is riding. + +Whose will be the Arsenal now? Can the Yankee regiments with their +slouchy Dutchmen hope to capture it! If there are any Yankees in Twelfth +Street that day, they are silent. Yes, there are some. And there are +some, even in the ranks of this Militia--who will fight for the Union. +These are sad indeed. + +There is another wait, the companies standing at ease. Some of the +dragoons dismount, but not the handsome young captain, who rides straight +to the bright group which has caught his eye, Colonel Carvel wrings his +gauntleted hand. + +"Clarence, we are proud of you, sir," he says. + +And Virginia, repeats his words, her eyes sparkling, her fingers +caressing the silken curve of Jefferson's neck. + +"Clarence, you will drive Captain Lyon and his Hessians into the river." + +"Hush, Jinny," he answered, "we are merely going into camp to learn to +drill, that we may be ready to defend the state when the time comes." + +Virginia laughed. "I had forgotten," she said. + +"You will have your cousin court-martialed, my dear," said the Colonel. + +Just then the call is sounded. But he must needs press Virginia's hand +first, and allow admiring Maude and Eugenie to press his. Then he goes +off at a slow canter to join his dragoons, waving his glove at them, and +turning to give the sharp order, "Attention"! to his squadron. + +Virginia is deliriously happy. Once more she has swept from her heart +every vestige of doubt. Now is Clarence the man she can admire. Chosen +unanimously captain of the Squadron but a few days since, Clarence had +taken command like a veteran. George Catherwood and Maurice had told the +story. + +And now at last the city is to shake off the dust of the North. "On to +Camp Jackson!" was the cry. The bands are started, the general and staff +begin to move, and the column swings into the Olive Street road, followed +by a concourse of citizens awheel and afoot, the horse cars crowded. +Virginia and Maude and the Colonel in the Carvel carriage, and behind +Ned, on the box, is their luncheon in a hamper Standing up, the girls can +just see the nodding plumes of the dragoons far to the front. + +Olive Street, now paved with hot granite and disfigured by trolley wires, +was a country road then. Green trees took the place of crowded rows of +houses and stores, and little "bob-tail" yellow cars were drawn by +plodding mules to an inclosure in a timbered valley, surrounded by a +board fence, known as Lindell Grove. It was then a resort, a picnic +ground, what is now covered by close residences which have long shown the +wear of time. + +Into Lindell Grove flocked the crowd, the rich and the poor, the +proprietor and the salesmen, to watch the soldiers pitch their tents +under the spreading trees. The gallant dragoons were off to the west, +across a little stream which trickled through the grounds. By the side of +it Virginia and Maude, enchanted, beheld Captain Colfax shouting his +orders while his troopers dragged the canvas from the wagons, and +staggered under it to the line. Alas! that the girls were there! The +Captain lost his temper, his troopers, perspiring over Gordian knots in +the ropes, uttered strange soldier oaths, while the mad wind which blew +that day played a hundred pranks. + +To the discomfiture of the young ladies, Colonel Carvel pulled his goatee +and guffawed. Virginia was for moving away. + +"How mean, Pa," she said indignantly. "How car, you expect them to do it +right the first day, and in this wind?" + +"Oh! Jinny, look at Maurice!" exclaimed Maude, giggling. "He is pulled +over on his head." + +The Colonel roared. And the gentlemen and ladies who were standing by +laughed, too. Virginia did not laugh. It was all too serious for her. + +"You will see that they can fight," she said. "They can beat the Yankees +and Dutch." + +This speech made the Colonel glance around him: Then he smiled,--in +response to other smiles. + +"My dear," he said, "you must remember that this is a peaceable camp of +instruction of the state militia. There fly the Stars and Stripes from +the general's tent. Do you see that they are above the state flag? Jinny; +you forget yourself." + +Jinny stamped her foot + +"Oh, I hate dissimulation," she cried, "Why can't we, say outright that +we are going to run that detestable Captain Lyon and his Yankees and +Hessians out of the Arsenal." + +"Why not, Colonel Carvel?" cried Maude. She had forgotten that one of her +brothers was with the Yankees and Hessians. + +"Why aren't women made generals and governors?" said the Colonel. + +"If we were," answered Virginia, "something might be accomplished." + +"Isn't Clarence enough of a fire-eater to suit you?" asked her father. + +But the tents were pitched, and at that moment the young Captain was seen +to hand over his horse to an orderly, and to come toward them. He was +followed by George Catherwood. + +"Come, Jinny," cried her cousin, "let us go over to the main camp." + +"And walk on Davis Avenue," said Virginia, flushing with pride. "Isn't +there a Davis Avenue?" + +"Yes, and a Lee Avenue, and a Beauregard Avenue," said George, taking his +sister's arm. + +"We shall walk in them all," said Virginia. + +What a scene of animation it was. The rustling trees and the young grass +of early May, and the two hundred and forty tents in lines of military +precision. Up and down the grassy streets flowed the promenade, proud +fathers and mothers, and sweethearts and sisters and wives in gala dress. +Wear your bright gowns now, you devoted women. The day is coming when you +will make them over and over again, or tear them to lint, to stanch the +blood of these young men who wear their new gray so well. + +Every afternoon Virginia drove with her father and her aunt to Camp +Jackson. All the fashion and beauty of the city were there. The bands +played, the black coachmen flecked the backs of their shining horses, and +walking in the avenues or seated under the trees were natty young +gentlemen in white trousers and brass-buttoned jackets. All was not +soldier fare at the regimental messes. Cakes and jellies and even ices +and more substantial dainties were laid beneath those tents. Dress parade +was one long sigh of delight: Better not to have been born than to have +been a young man in St. Louis, early in Camp Jackson week, and not be a +militiaman. + +One young man whom we know, however, had little of pomp and vanity about +him,--none other than the young manager (some whispered "silent partner") +of Carvel & Company. If Mr. Eliphalet had had political ambition, or +political leanings, during the half-year which had just passed, he had +not shown them. Mr. Cluyme (no mean business man himself) had pronounced +Eliphalet a conservative young gentleman who attended to his own affairs +and let the mad country take care of itself. This is precisely the wise +course Mr. Hopper chose. Seeing a regiment of Missouri Volunteers +slouching down Fifth street in citizens' clothes he had been remarked to +smile cynically. But he kept his opinions so close that he was supposed +not to have any. + +On Thursday of Camp Jackson week, an event occurred in Mr. Carvel's store +which excited a buzz of comment. Mr. Hopper announced to Mr. Barbo, the +book-keeper, that he should not be there after four o'clock. To be sure, +times were more than dull. The Colonel that morning had read over some +two dozen letters from Texas and the Southwest, telling of the +impossibility of meeting certain obligations in the present state of the +country. The Colonel had gone home to dinner with his brow furrowed. On +the other hand, Mr. Hopper's equanimity was spoken of at the widow's +table. + +At four o'clock, Mr. Hopper took an Olive Street car, tucking himself +into the far corner where he would not be disturbed by any ladies who +might enter. In the course of an hour or so, he alighted at the western +gate of the camp on the Olive Street road. Refreshing himself with a +little tobacco, he let himself be carried leisurely by the crowd between +the rows of tents. A philosophy of his own (which many men before and +since have adopted) permitted him to stare with a superior good nature at +the open love-making around him. He imagined his own figure,--which was +already growing a little stout,--in a light gray jacket and duck +trousers, and laughed. Eliphalet was not burdened with illusions of that +kind. These heroes might have their hero-worship. Life held something +dearer for him. + +As he was sauntering toward a deserted seat at the foot of a tree, it so +chanced that he was overtaken by Mr. Cluyme and his daughter Belle. Only +that morning, this gentleman, in glancing through the real estate column +of his newspaper, had fallen upon a deed of sale which made him wink. He +reminded his wife that Mr. Hopper had not been to supper of late. So now +Mr. Cluyme held out his hand with more than common cordiality. When Mr. +Hopper took it, the fingers did not close any too tightly over his own. +But it may be well to remark that Mr. Hopper himself did not do any +squeezing. He took off his hat grudgingly to Miss Belle. He had never +liked the custom. + +"I hope you will take pot luck with us soon again, Mr. Hopper," said the +elder gentleman. "We only have plain and simple things, but they are +wholesome, sir. Dainties are poor things to work on. I told that to his +Royal Highness when he was here last fall. He was speaking to me on the +merits of roast beef--" + +"It's a fine day," said Mr. Hopper. + +"So it is," Mr. Cluyme assented. Letting his gaze wander over the camp, +he added casually, "I see that they have got a few mortars and howitzers +since yesterday. I suppose that is the stuff we heard so much about, +which came on the 'Swon' marked 'marble.' They say Jeff Davis sent the +stuff to 'em from the Government arsenal the Secesh captured at Baton +Rouge. They're pretty near ready to move on our arsenal now." + +Mr. Hopper listened with composure. He was not greatly interested in this +matter which had stirred the city to the quick. Neither had Mr. Cluyme +spoken as one who was deeply moved. Just then, as if to spare the pains +of a reply, a "Jenny Lind" passed them. Miss Belle recognized the +carriage immediately as belonging to an elderly lady who was well known +in St. Louis. Every day she drove out, dressed in black bombazine, and +heavily veiled. But she was blind. As the mother-in-law of the stalwart +Union leader of the city, Miss Belle's comment about her appearance in +Camp Jackson was not out of place. + +"Well!" she exclaimed, "I'd like to know what she's doing here!" + +Mr. Hopper's answer revealed a keenness which, in the course of a few +days, engendered in Mr. Cluyme as lusty a respect as he was capable of. + +"I don't know," said Eliphalet; "but I cal'late she's got stouter." + +"What do you mean by that?" Miss Belle demanded. + +"That Union principles must be healthy," said he, and laughed. + +Miss Cluyme was prevented from following up this enigma. The appearance +of two people on Davis Avenue drove the veiled lady from her mind. +Eliphalet, too, had seen them. One was the tall young Captain of +Dragoons, in cavalry boots, and the other a young lady with dark brown +hair, in a lawn dress. + +"Just look at them!" cried Miss Belle. "They think they are alone in the +garden of Eden. Virginia didn't use to care for him. But since he's a +captain, and has got a uniform, she's come round pretty quick. I'm +thankful I never had any silly notions about uniforms." + +She glanced at Eliphalet, to find that his eyes were fixed on the +approaching couple. + +"Clarence is handsome, but worthless," she continued in her sprightly +way. "I believe Jinny will be fool enough to marry him. Do you think +she's so very pretty, Mr. Hopper?" + +Mr. Hopper lied. + +"Neither do I," Miss Belle assented. And upon that, greatly to the +astonishment of Eliphalet, she left him and ran towards them. "Virginia!" +she cried; "Jinny, I have something so interesting to tell you!" + +Virginia turned impatiently. The look she bestowed upon Miss Cluyme was +not one of welcome, but Belle was not sensitive. Putting her arm through +Virginia's, she sauntered off with the pair toward the parade grounds, +Clarence maintaining now a distance of three feet, and not caring to hide +his annoyance. + +Eliphalet's eyes smouldered, following the three until they were lost in +the crowd. That expression of Virginia's had reminded him of a time, +years gone, when she had come into the store on her return from Kentucky, +and had ordered him to tell her father of her arrival. He had smarted +then. And Eliphalet was not the sort to get over smarts. + +"A beautiful young lady," remarked Mr. Cluyme. "And a deserving one, Mr. +Hopper. Now, she is my notion of quality. She has wealth, and manners, +and looks. And her father is a good man. Too bad he holds such views on +secession. I have always thought, sir, that you were singularly fortunate +in your connection with him." + +There was a point of light now in each of Mr. Hopper's green eyes. But +Mr. Cluyme continued: + +"What a pity, I say, that he should run the risk of crippling himself by +his opinions. Times are getting hard." + +"Yes," said Mr. Hopper. + +"And southwestern notes are not worth the paper they are written on--" + +But Mr. Cluyme has misjudged his man. If he had come to Eliphalet for +information of Colonel Carvel's affairs, or of any one else's affairs, he +was not likely to get it. It is not meet to repeat here the long business +conversation which followed. Suffice it to say that Mr. Cluyme, who was +in dry goods himself, was as ignorant when he left Eliphalet as when he +met him. But he had a greater respect than ever for the shrewdness of the +business manager of Carvel & Company. + + ......................... + +That same Thursday, when the first families of the city were whispering +jubilantly in each other's ears of the safe arrival of the artillery and +stands of arms at Camp Jackson, something of significance was happening +within the green inclosure of the walls of the United States arsenal, far +to the southward. + +The days had become alike in sadness to Stephen. Richter gone, and the +Judge often away in mysterious conference, he was left for hours at a +spell the sole tenant of the office. Fortunately there was work of +Richter's and of Mr. Whipple's left undone that kept him busy. This +Thursday morning, however, he found the Judge getting into that best +black coat which he wore on occasions. His manner had recently lost much +of its gruffness. + +"Stephen," said he, "they are serving out cartridges and uniforms to the +regiments at the arsenal. Would you like to go down with me?" + +"Does that mean Camp Jackson?" asked Stephen, when they had reached the +street. + +"Captain Lyon is not the man to sit still and let the Governor take the +first trick, sir," said the Judge. + +As they got on the Fifth Street car, Stephen's attention was at once +attracted to a gentleman who sat in a corner, with his children about +him. He was lean, and he had a face of great keenness and animation. He +had no sooner spied Judge Whipple than he beckoned to him with a kind of +military abruptness. + +"That is Major William T. Sherman," said the Judge to Stephen. "He used +to be in the army, and fought in the Mexican War. He came here two months +ago to be the President of this Fifth Street car line." + +They crossed over to him, the Judge introducing Stephen to Major Sherman, +who looked at him very hard, and then decided to bestow on him a vigorous +nod. + +"Well, Whipple," he said, "this nation is going to the devil; eh?" + +Stephen could not resist a smile. For it was a bold man who expressed +radical opinions (provided they were not Southern opinions) in a St. +Louis street car early in '61. + +The Judge shook his head. "We may pull out," he said. + +"Pull out!" exclaimed Mr. Sherman. "Who's man enough in Washington to +shake his fist in a rebel's face? Our leniency--our timidity--has +paralyzed us, sir." + +By this time those in the car began to manifest considerable interest in +the conversation. Major Sherman paid them no attention, and the Judge, +once launched in an argument, forgot his surroundings. + +"I have faith in Mr. Lincoln. He is calling out volunteers." + +"Seventy-five thousand for three months!" said the Major, vehemently, "a +bucketful on a conflagration I tell you, Whipple, we'll need all the +water we've got in the North." + +The Judge expressed his belief in this, and also that Mr. Lincoln would +draw all the water before he got through. + +"Upon my soul," said Mr. Sherman, "I'm disgusted. Now's the time to stop +'em. The longer we let 'em rear and kick, the harder to break 'em. You +don't catch me going back to the army for three months. If they want me, +they've got to guarantee me three years. That's more like it." Turning to +Stephen, he added: "Don't you sign any three months' contract, young +man." + +Stephen grew red. By this time the car was full, and silent. No one had +offered to quarrel with the Major. Nor did it seem likely that any one +would. + +"I'm afraid I can't go, sir." + +"Why not?" demanded Mr. Sherman. + +"Because, sir," said the Judge, bluntly, "his mother's a widow, and they +have no money. He was a lieutenant in one of Blair's companies before the +call came." + +The Major looked at Stephen, and his expression changed. + +"Find it pretty hard?" he asked. + +Stephen's expression must have satisfied him, but he nodded again, more +vigorously than before. + +"Just you WAIT, Mr. Brice," he said. "It won't hurt you any." + +Stephen was grateful. But he hoped to fall out of the talk. Much to his +discomfiture, the Major gave him another of those queer looks. His whole +manner, and even his appearance, reminded Stephen strangely of Captain +Elijah Brent. + +"Aren't you the young man who made the Union speech in Mercantile Library +Hall?" + +"Yes, sir," said the Judge. "He is." + +At that the Major put out his hand impulsively, and gripped Stephen's. + +"Well, sir," he said, "I have yet to read a more sensible speech, except +some of Abraham Lincoln's. Brinsmade gave it to me to read. Whipple, that +speech reminded me of Lincoln. It was his style. Where did you get it, +Mr. Brice?" he demanded. + +"I heard Mr. Lincoln's debate with Judge Douglas at 'Freeport," said +Stephen; beginning to be amused. + +The Major laughed. + +"I admire your frankness, sir," he said. "I meant to say that its logic +rather than its substance reminded one of Lincoln." + +"I tried to learn what I could from him, Major Sherman." + +At length the car stopped, and they passed into the Arsenal grounds. +Drawn up in lines on the green grass were four regiments, all at last in +the blue of their country's service. Old soldiers with baskets of +cartridges were stepping from file to file, giving handfuls to the +recruits. Many of these thrust them in their pockets, for there were not +enough belts to go around. The men were standing at ease, and as Stephen +saw them laughing and joking lightheartedly his depression returned. It +was driven away again by Major Sherman's vivacious comments. For suddenly +Captain Lyon, the man of the hour, came into view. + +"Look at him!" cried the Major, "he's a man after my own heart. Just look +at him running about with his hair flying in the wind, and the papers +bulging from his pockets. Not dignified, eh, Whipple? But this isn't the +time to be dignified. If there were some like Lyon in Washington, our +troops would be halfway to New Orleans by this time. Don't talk to me of +Washington! Just look at him!" + +The gallant Captain was a sight, indeed, and vividly described by Major +Sherman's picturesque words as he raced from regiment to regiment, and +from company to company, with his sandy hair awry, pointing, +gesticulating, commanding. In him Stephen recognized the force that had +swept aside stubborn army veterans of wavering faith, that snapped the +tape with which they had tied him. + +Would he be duped by the Governor's ruse of establishing a State Camp at +this time? Stephen, as he gazed at him, was sure that he would not. This +man could see to the bottom, through every specious argument. Little +matters of law and precedence did not trouble him. Nor did he believe +elderly men in authority when they told gravely that the state troops +were there for peace. + +After the ranks were broken, Major Sherman and the Judge went to talk to +Captain Lyon and the Union Leader, who was now a Colonel of one of the +Volunteer regiments. Stephen sought Richter, who told him that the +regiments were to assemble the morning of the morrow, prepared to march. + +"To Camp Jackson?" asked Stephen. + +Richter shrugged his shoulders. + +"We are not consulted, my friend," he said. "Will you come into my +quarters and have a bottle of beer with Tiefel?" + +Stephen went. It was not their fault that his sense at their comradeship +was gone. To him it was as if the ties that had bound him to them were +asunder, and he was become an outcast. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE STONE THAT IS REJECTED + +That Friday morning Stephen awoke betimes with a sense that something was +to happen. For a few moments he lay still in the half comprehension which +comes after sleep when suddenly he remembered yesterday's incidents at +the Arsenal, and leaped out of bed. + +"I think that Lyon is going to attack Camp Jackson to-day," he said to +his mother after breakfast, when Hester had left the room. + +Mrs. Brice dropped her knitting in her lap. + +"Why, Stephen?" + +"I went down to the Arsenal with the Judge yesterday and saw them +finishing the equipment of the new regiments. Something was in the wind. +Any one could see that from the way Lyon was flying about. I think he +must have proof that the Camp Jackson people have received supplies from +the South." + +Mrs. Brice looked fixedly at her son, and then smiled in spite of the +apprehension she felt. + +"Is that why you were working over that map of the city last night?" she +asked. + +"I was trying to see how Lyon would dispose his troops. I meant to tell +you about a gentleman we met in the street car, a Major Sherman who used +to be in the army. Mr. Brinsmade knows him, and Judge Whipple, and many +other prominent men here. He came to St. Louis some months ago to take +the position of president of the Fifth Street Line. He is the keenest, +the most original man I have ever met. As long as I live I shall never +forget his description of Lyon." + +"Is the Major going back into the army?" said Mrs. Brice, Stephen did not +remark the little falter in her voice. He laughed over the recollection +of the conversation in the street car. + +"Not unless matters in Washington change to suit him," he said. "He thinks +that things have been very badly managed, and does not scruple to say so +anywhere. I could not have believed it possible that two men could have +talked in public as he and Judge Whipple did yesterday and not be shot +down. I thought that it was as much as a man's life is worth to mention +allegiance to the Union here in a crowd. And the way Mr. Sherman pitched +into the Rebels in that car full of people was enough to make your hair +stand on end." + +"He must be a bold man," murmured Mrs. Brice. + +"Does he think that the--the Rebellion can be put down?" + +"Not with seventy-five thousand men, nor with ten times that number." + +Mrs. Brice sighed, and furtively wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. + +"I am afraid we shall see great misery, Stephen," she said. + +He was silent. From that peaceful little room war and its horrors seemed +very far away. The morning sun poured in through the south windows and +was scattered by the silver on the sideboard. From above, on the wall, +Colonel Wilton Brice gazed soberly down. Stephen's eyes lighted on the +portrait, and his thoughts flew back to the boyhood days when he used to +ply his father with questions about it. Then the picture had suggested +only the glory and honor which illumines the page of history. Something +worthy to look back upon, to keep ones head high. The hatred and the +suffering and the tears, the heartrending, tearing apart for all time of +loving ones who have grown together,--these were not upon that canvas, +Will war ever be painted with a wart? + +The sound of feet was heard on the pavement. Stephen rose, glancing at +his mother. Her face was still upon her knitting. + +"I am going to the Arsenal," he said. "I must see what as happening." + +To her, as has been said, was given wisdom beyond most women. She did not +try to prevent him as he kissed her good-by. But when the door had shut +behind him, a little cry escaped her, and she ran to the window to strain +her eyes after him until he had turned the corner below. + +His steps led him irresistibly past the house of the strange flag, +ominously quiet at that early hour. At sight of it anger made him hot +again. The car for South St. Louis stood at the end of the line, fast +filling with curious people who had read in their papers that morning of +the equipment of the new troops. There was little talk among them, and +that little guarded. + +It was a May morning to rouse a sluggard; the night air tingled into life +at the touch of the sunshine, the trees in the flitting glory of their +first green. Stephen found the shaded street in front of the Arsenal +already filled with an expectant crowd. Sharp commands broke the silence, +and he saw the blue regiments forming on the lawn inside the wall. Truly, +events were in the air,--great events in which he had no part. + +As he stood leaning against a tree-box by the curb, dragged down once +more by that dreaded feeling of detachment, he heard familiar voices +close beside him. Leaning forward, he saw Eliphalet Hopper and Mr. +Cluyme. It was Mr. Cluyme who was speaking. + +"Well, Mr. Hopper," he said, "in spite of what you say, I expect you are +dust as eager as I am to see what is going on. You've taken an early +start this morning for sightseeing." + +Eliphalet's equanimity was far from shaken. + +"I don't cal'late to take a great deal of stock in the military," he +answered. "But business is business. And a man must keep an eye on what +is moving." + +Mr. Cluyme ran his hand through his chop whiskers, and lowered his voice. + +"You're right, Hopper," he assented. "And if this city is going to be +Union, we ought to know it right away." + +Stephen, listening with growing indignation to this talk, was unaware of +a man who stood on the other side of the tree, and who now came forward +before Mr. Hopper. He presented a somewhat uncompromising front. Mr. +Cluyme instantly melted away. + +"My friend," said the stranger, quietly, "I think we have met before, +when your actions were not greatly to your credit. I do not forget a +face, even when I see it in the dark. Now I hear you utter words which +are a disgrace to a citizen of the United States. I have some respect for +a rebel. I have none for you, sir." + +As soon as Stephen recovered from the shock of his surprise, he saw that +Eliphalet had changed countenance. The manner of an important man of +affairs, which he hay so assiduously cultivated, fell away from him. He +took a step backward, and his eyes made an ugly shift. Stephen rejoiced +to see the stranger turn his back on the manager of Carvel & Company +before that dignitary had time to depart, and stand unconcernedly there +as if nothing had occurred. + +Then Stephen stared at him. + +He was not a man you would look at twice, ordinarily, he was smoking a +great El Sol cigar. He wore clothes that were anything but new, a slouch +hat, and coarse grained, square-toed boots. His trousers were creased at +the knees. His head fell forward a little from his square shoulders, and +leaned a bit to one side, as if meditatively. He had a light brown beard +that was reddish in the sun, and he was rather short than otherwise. + +This was all that Stephen saw. And yet the very plainness of the man's +appearance only added to his curiosity. Who was this stranger? His words, +his action, too, had been remarkable. The art of administering a rebuke +like that was not given to many men. It was perfectly quiet, perfectly +final. And then, when it was over, he had turned his back and dismissed +it. + +Next Stephen began to wonder what he could know about Hopper. Stephen had +suspected Eliphalet of subordinating principles to business gain, and +hence the conversation with Mr. Cluyme had given him no shock in the way +of a revelation, But if Hopper were a rogue, ought not Colonel Carvel to +hear it? Ought not he, Stephen Brice, to ask this man with the cigar what +he knew, and tell Judge Whipple? The sudden rattle of drums gave him a +start, and cruelly reminded him of the gulf of prejudice and hatred fast +widening between the friends. + +All this time the stranger stood impassively chewing his cigar, his hand +against the tree-box. A regiment in column came out of the Arsenal gate, +the Union leader in his colonel's uniform, on horseback at its head. He +pulled up in the street opposite to Stephen, and sat in his saddle, +chatting with other officers around him. + +Then the stranger stepped across the limestone gutter and walked up to +the Colonel's horse, He was still smoking. This move, too, was surprising +enough, It argued even more assurance. Stephen listened intently. + +"Colonel Blair, my name is Grant," he said briefly. + +The Colonel faced quickly about, and held out his gloved hand cordially, +"Captain Ulysses Grant," said he; "of the old army?" + +Mr. Grant nodded. + +"I wanted to wish you luck," he said. + +"Thank you, Grant," answered the Colonel. "But you? Where are you living +now?" + +"I moved to Illinois after I left here," replied Mr. Grant, as quietly as +before, "and have been in Galena, in the Leather business there. I went +down to Springfield with the company they organized in Galena, to be of +any help I could. They made me a clerk in the adjutant general's office +of the state I ruled blanks, and made out forms for a while." He paused, +as if to let the humble character of this position sink into the +Colonel's comprehension. "Then they found out that I'd been quartermaster +and commissary, and knew something about military orders Now I'm a state +mustering officer. I came down to Belleville to muster in a regiment, +which wasn't ready. And so I ran over here to see what you fellows were +doing." + +If this humble account had been delivered volubly, and in another tone, +it is probable that the citizen-colonel would not have listened, since +the events of that day were to crown his work of a winter. But Mr. Grant +possessed a manner of holding attention.. It was very evident, however; +that Colonel Blair had other things to think of. Nevertheless he said +kindly: + +"Aren't you going in, Grant?" + +"I can't afford to go in as a captain of volunteers," was the calm reply: +"I served nine years in the regular army and I think I can command a +regiment." + +The Colonel, whose attention was called away at that moment, did not +reply. Mr. Grant moved off up the street. Some of the younger officers +who were there, laughed as they followed his retreating figure. + +"Command a regiment!" cried one, a lieutenant whom Stephen recognized as +having been a bookkeeper at Edwards, James, & Doddington's, and whose +stiff blue uniform coat creased awkwardly. "I guess I'm about as fit to +command a regiment as Grant is." + +"That man's forty years old, if he's a day," put in another. "I remember +when he came here to St. Louis in '54, played out. He'd resigned from the +army on the Pacific Coast. He put up a log cabin down on the Gravois +Road, and there he lived in the hardest luck of any man I ever saw until +last year. You remember him, Joe." + +"Yep," said Joe. "I spotted him by the El Sol cigar. He used to bring a +load of wood to the city once in a while, and then he'd go over to the +Planters' House, or somewhere else, and smoke one of these long fellows, +and sit against the wall as silent as a wooden Indian. After that he came +up to the city without his family and went into real estate one winter. +But he didn't make it go. Curious, it is just a year ago this month than +he went over to Illinois. He's an honest fellow, and hard working enough, +but he don't know how. He's just a dead failure." + +"Command a regiment!" laughed the first, again, as of this in particular +had struck his sense of humor. "I guess he won't get a regiment in a +hurry, There's lots of those military carpet-baggers hanging around for +good jobs now." + +"He might fool you fellows yet," said the one caller, though his tone was +not one of conviction. "I understand he had a first-rate record an the +Mexican War." + +Just then an aide rode up, and the Colonel gave a sharp command which put +an end to this desultory talk. As the First Regiment took up the march, +the words "Camp Jackson" ran from mouth to mouth on the sidewalks. +Catching fire, Stephen ran with the crowd, and leaping on passing street +car, was borne cityward with the drums of the coming hosts beating in his +ears. + +In the city, shutters were going up on the stores. The streets were +filled with, restless citizens seeking news, and drays were halted here +and there on the corners, the white eyes and frenzied calls of the negro +drivers betraying their excitement. While Stephen related to his mother +the events of the morning, Hester burned the dinner. It lay; still +untouched, on the table when the throbbing of drums sent them to the +front steps. Sigel's regiment had swung into the street, drawing in its +wake a seething crowd. + +Three persons came out of the big house next door. One was Anna +Brinsmade; and there was her father, his white hairs uncovered. The third +was Jack. His sister was cringing to him appealingly, and he struggling +in her grasp. Out of his coat pocket hung the curved butt of a pepperbox +revolver. + +"Let me go, Anne!" he cried. "Do you think I can stay here while my +people are shot down by a lot of damned Dutchman?" + +"John," said Mr. Brinsmade, sternly, "I cannot let you join a mob. I +cannot let you shoot at men who carry the Union flag." + +"You cannot prevent me, sir," shouted the young man, in a frenzy. "When +foreigners take our flag for them own, it is time for us to shoot them +down." + +Wrenching himself free, he ran down the steps and up the street ahead of +the regiment. Then the soldiers and the noisy crowd were upon them and +while these were passing the two stood there as in a dream. After that +silence fell upon the street, and Mr. Brinsmade turned and went back into +the house, his head bowed as in prayer. Stephen and his mother drew back, +but Anne saw them. + +"He is a rebel," she faltered. "It will break my father's heart." + +She looked at Stephen appealingly, unashamed of the tears in her eyes. +Then she, too went in. + +"I cannot stay here mother," he said. + +As he slammed the gate, Anne ran down the steps calling his name. He +paused, and she caught his sleeve. + +"I knew you would go," she said, "I knew you would go. Oh, Stephen, you +have a cool head. Try to keep Jack--out of mischief." + +He left her standing on the pavement. But when he reached the corner and +looked back he saw that she had gone in at his own little gate to meet +his mother. Then he walked rapidly westward. Now and again he was stopped +by feverish questions, but at length he reached the top of the second +ridge from the river, along which crowded Eighteenth Street now runs. +There stood the new double mansion Mr. Spencer Catherwood had built two +years before on the outskirts of the town, with the wall at the side, and +the brick stable and stable yard. As Stephen approached it, the thought +came to him how little this world's goods avail in times of trouble. One +of the big Catherwood boys was in the blue marching regiment that day, +and had been told by his father never again to darken his doors. Another +was in Clarence Colfax's company of dragoons, and still another had fled +southward the night after Sumter. + +Stephen stopped at the crest of the hill, in the white dust of the +new-turned street, to gaze westward. Clouds were gathering in the sky, +but the sun still shone brightly, Half way up the rise two blue lines had +crawled, followed by black splotches, and at the southwest was the glint +of the sun on rifle barrels. Directed by a genius in the art of war, the +regiments were closing about Camp Jackson. + +As he stood there meditating and paying no attention to those who hurried +past, a few familiar notes were struck on a piano. They came through the +wide-shuttered window above his head. Then a girl's voice rose above the +notes, in tones that were exultant:-- + + "Away down South in de fields of cotton, + Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom, + Look away, look away, Look away, look away. + Den I wish I was in Dixie's Land, + Oh, oh! oh, oh! + In Dixie's Land I'll take my stand, + And live and die in Dixie's Land. + Away, away, away. + Away down South in Dixie." + +The song ceased amid peals of girlish laughter. Stephen was rooted to the +spot. + +"Jinny! Jinny Carvel, how dare you!" came through the shutters. "We shall +have a whole regiment of Hessians in here." + +Old Uncle Ben, the Catherwoods' coachman, came out of the stable yard. +The whites of his eyes were rolling, half in amusement, half in terror. +Seeing Stephen standing there, he exclaimed: + +"Mistah Brice, if de Dutch take Camp Jackson, is we niggers gwinter be +free?" + +Stephen did not answer, for the piano had started again, + + "If ever I consent to be married, + And who could refuse a good mate? + The man whom I give my hand to, + Must believe in the Rights of the State." + +More laughter. Then the blinds were flung aside, and a young lady in a +dress of white trimmed with crimson stood in the window, smiling. +Suddenly she perceived Stephen in the road. Her smile faded. For an +instant she stared at him, and then turned to the girls crowding behind +her. What she said, he did not wait to hear. He was striding down the +hill. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE TENTH OF MAC + +Would the sons of the first families surrender, "Never!" cried a young +lady who sat behind the blinds in Mrs. Catherwood's parlor. It seemed to +her when she stopped to listen for the first guns of the coming battle +that the tumult in her heart would drown their roar. + +"But, Jinny," ventured that Miss Puss Russell who never feared to speak +her mind, "it would be folly for them to fight. The Dutch and Yankees +outnumber them ten to one, and they haven't any powder and bullets." + +"And Camp Jackson is down in a hollow," said Maude Catherwood, dejectedly. +And yet hopefully, too, for at the thought of bloodshed she was near to +fainting. + +"Oh," exclaimed Virginia, passionately, "I believe you want them to +surrender. I should rather see Clarence dead than giving his sword to a +Yankee." + +At that the other two were silent again, and sat on through an endless +afternoon of uncertainty and hope and dread in the darkened room. Now and +anon Mr. Catherwood's heavy step was heard as he paced the hall. From +time to time they glanced at Virginia, as if to fathom her thought. She +and Puss Russell had come that day to dine with Maude. Mr. Catherwood's +Ben, reeking of the stable, had brought the rumor of the marching on the +camp into the dining-room, and close upon the heels of this the rumble of +the drums and the passing of Sigel's regiment. It was Virginia who had +the presence of mind to slam the blinds in the faces of the troops, and +the crowd had cheered her. It was Virginia who flew to the piano to play +Dixie ere they could get by, to the awe and admiration of the girls and +the delight of Mr. Catherwood who applauded her spirit despite the +trouble which weighed upon him. Once more the crowd had cheered,--and +hesitated. But the Dutch regiment slouched on, impassive, and the people +followed. + +Virginia remained at the piano, her mood exalted patriotism, uplifted in +spirit by that grand song. At first she had played it with all her might. +Then she sang it. She laughed in very scorn of the booby soldiers she had +seen. A million of these, with all the firearms in the world, could not +prevail against the flower of the South. Then she had begun whimsically +to sing a verse of a song she had heard the week before, and suddenly her +exaltation was fled, and her fingers left the keys. Gaining the window, +trembling, half-expectant, she flung open a blind. The troops, the +people, were gone, and there alone in the road stood--Stephen Brice. The +others close behind her saw him, too, and Puss cried out in her surprise. +The impression, when the room was dark once more, was of sternness and +sadness,--and of strength. Effaced was the picture of the plodding +recruits with their coarse and ill-fitting uniforms of blue. + +Virginia shut the blinds. Not a word escaped her, nor could they tell +why--they did not dare to question her then. An hour passed, perhaps two, +before the shrill voice of a boy was heard in the street below. + +"Camp Jackson has surrendered!" + +They heard the patter of his bare feet on the pavement, and the cry +repeated. + +"Camp Jackson has surrendered!" + +And so the war began for Virginia. Bitter before, now was she on fire. +Close her lips as tightly as she might, the tears forced themselves to +her eyes. The ignominy of it! + +How hard it is for us of this age to understand that feeling. + +"I do not believe it!" she cried. "I cannot believe it!" + +The girls gathered around her, pale and frightened and anxious. Suddenly +courage returned to her, the courage which made Spartans of Southern +women. She ran to the front door. Mr. Catherwood was on the sidewalk, +talking to a breathless man. That man was Mr. Barbo, Colonel Carvel's +book-keeper. + +"Yes," he was saying, "they--they surrendered. There was nothing else for +them to do. They were surrounded and overpowered." + +Mr. Catherwood uttered an oath. But it did not shock Virginia. + +"And not a shot fired?" he said. + +"And not a shot fired?" Virginia repeated, mechanically. Both men turned. +Mr. Barbo took off his hat. + +"No, ma'am." + +"Oh, how could they!" exclaimed Virginia. + +Her words seemed to arouse Mr. Catherwood from a kind of stupor. He +turned, and took her hand. + +"Virginia, we shall make them smart for this yet, My God!" he cried, +"what have I done that my son should be a traitor, in arms against his +own brother fighting for his people? To think that a Catherwood should be +with the Yankees! You, Ben," he shouted, suddenly perceiving an object +for his anger. "What do you mean by coming out of the yard? By G-d, I'll +have you whipped. I'll show you niggers whether you're to be free or +not." + +And Mr. Catherwood was a good man, who treated his servants well. +Suddenly he dropped Virginia's hand and ran westward down the hill. Well +that she could not see beyond the second rise. + +Let us go there--to the camp. Let us stand on the little mound at the +northeast of it, on the Olive Street Road, whence Captain Lyon's +artillery commands it. What a change from yesterday! Davis Avenue is no +longer a fashionable promenade, flashing with bright dresses. Those quiet +men in blue, who are standing beside the arms of the state troops, +stacked and surrendered, are United States regulars. They have been in +Kansas, and are used to scenes of this sort. + +The five Hessian regiments have surrounded the camp. Each commander has +obeyed the master mind of his chief, who has calculated the time of +marching with precision. Here, at the western gate, Colonel Blair's +regiment is in open order. See the prisoners taking their places between +the ranks, some smiling, as if to say all is not over yet; some with +heads hung down, in sulky shame. Still others, who are true to the Union, +openly relieved. But who is this officer breaking his sword to bits +against the fence, rather than surrender it to a Yankee? Listen to the +crowd as they cheer him. Listen to the epithets and vile names which they +hurl at the stolid blue line of the victors, "Mudsills!" "Negro +Worshippers." + +Yes, the crowd is there, seething with conflicting passions. Men with +brows bent and fists clenched, yelling excitedly. Others pushing, and +eager to see,--there in curiosity only. And, alas, women and children by +the score, as if what they looked upon were not war, but a parade, a +spectacle. As the gray uniforms file out of the gate, the crowd has +become a mob, now flowing back into the fields on each side of the road, +now pressing forward vindictively until stopped by the sergeants and +corporals. Listen to them calling to sons, and brothers, and husbands in +gray! See, there is a woman who spits in a soldier's face! + +Throughout it all, the officers sit their horses, unmoved. A man on the +bank above draws a pistol and aims at a captain. A German private steps +from the ranks, forgetful of discipline, and points at the man, who is +cursing the captain's name. The captain, imperturbable, orders his man +back to his place. And the man does not shoot--yet. + +Now are the prisoners of that regiment all in place between the two files +of it. A band (one of those which played lightsome music on the birthday +of the camp) is marched around to the head of the column. The regiment +with its freight moves on to make place for a battalion of regulars, amid +imprecations and cries of "Hurrah for Jeff Davis!" and "Damn the Dutch! +Kill the Hessians!" + +Stephen Brice stood among the people in Lindell's Grove, looking up at +the troops on the road, which was on an embankment. Through the rows of +faces he had searched in vain for one. His motive he did not attempt to +fathom--in truth, he was not conscious at the time of any motive. He +heard the name shouted at the gate. + +"Here they are,--the dragoons! Three cheers for Colfax! Down with the +Yankees!" + +A storm of cheers and hisses followed. Dismounted, at the head of his +small following, the young Captain walked erect. He did not seem to hear +the cheers. His face was set, and he held his gloved hand over the place +where his sword had been, as if over a wound. On his features, in his +attitude, was stamped the undying determination of the South. How those +thoroughbreds of the Cavaliers showed it! Pain they took lightly. The +fire of humiliation burned, but could not destroy their indomitable +spirit. They were the first of their people in the field, and the last to +leave it. Historians may say that the classes of the South caused the +war; they cannot say that they did not take upon themselves the greatest +burden of the suffering. + +Twice that day was the future revealed to Stephen. Once as he stood on +the hill-crest, when he had seen a girl in crimson and white in a window, +--in her face. And now again he read it in the face of her cousin. It was +as if he had seen unrolled the years of suffering that were to come. + +In that moment of deep bitterness his reason wavered. What if the South +should win? Surely there was no such feeling in the North as these people +betrayed. That most dangerous of gifts, the seeing of two sides of a +quarrel, had been given him. He saw the Southern view. He sympathized +with the Southern people. They had befriended him in his poverty. Why had +he not been born, like Clarence Colfax, the owner of a large plantation, +the believer in the divine right of his race to rule? + +Then this girl who haunted his thoughts! Would that his path had been as +straight, his duty as easy, as that of the handsome young Captain. + +Presently these thoughts were distracted by the sight of a back strangely +familiar. The back belonged to a, gentleman who was energetically +climbing the embankment in front of him, on the top of which Major +Sexton, a regular, army officer, sat his horse. The gentleman was pulling +a small boy after him by one hand, and held a newspaper tightly rolled in +the other. Stephen smiled to himself when it came over him that this +gentleman was none other than that Mr. William T. Sherman he had met in +the street car the day before. Somehow Stephen was fascinated by the +decision and energy of Mr. Sherman's slightest movements. He gave Major +Saxton a salute, quick and genial. Then, almost with one motion he +unrolled the newspaper, pointed to a paragraph, and handed it to the +officer. Major Saxton was still reading when a drunken ruffian clambered +up the bank behind them and attempted to pass through the lines. The +column began to move forward. Mr. Sherman slid down the bank with his boy +into the grove beside Stephen. Suddenly there was a struggle. A corporal +pitched the drunkard backwards over the bank, and he rolled at Mr. +Sherman's feet. With a curse, he picked himself up, fumbling in his +pocket. There was a flash, and as the smoke rolled from before his eyes, +Stephen saw a man of a German regiment stagger and fall. + +It was the signal for a rattle of shots. Stones and bricks filled the +air, and were heard striking steel and flesh in the ranks. The regiment +quivered,--then halted at the loud command of the officers, and the ranks +faced out with level guns, Stephen reached for Mr. Sherman's boy, but a +gentleman had already thrown him and was covering his body. He contrived +to throw down a woman standing beside him before the mini-balls swished +over their heads, and the leaves and branches began to fall. Between the +popping of the shots sounded the shrieks of wounded women and children, +the groans and curses of men, and the stampeding of hundreds. + +"Lie down, Brice! For God's sake lie down!" Mr. Sherman cried. + +He was about to obey when a young; man, small and agile, ran past him +from behind, heedless of the panic. Stopping at the foot of the bank he +dropped on one knee, resting his revolver in the hollow of his left arm. +It, was Jack Brinsmade. At the same time two of the soldiers above +lowered their barrels to cover him. Then smoke hid the scene. When it +rolled away, Brinsmade lay on the ground. He staggered to his feet with +an oath, and confronted a young man who was hatless, and upon whose +forehead was burned a black powder mark. + +"Curse you!" he cried, reaching out wildly, "curse you, you d--d Yankee. +I'll teach you to fight!" + +Maddened, he made a rush at Stephen's throat. But Stephen seized his +hands and bent them down, and held them firmly while he kicked and +struggled. + +"Curse you!" he panted; "curse you, you let me go and I'll kill you,--you +Yankee upstart!" + +But Stephen held on. Brinsmade became more and more frantic. One of the +officers, seeing the struggle, started down the bank, was reviled, and +hesitated. At that moment Major Sherman came between them. + +"Let him go, Brice," he said, in a tone of command. Stephen did as he was +bid. Whereupon Brinsmade made a dash for his pistol on the ground. Mr. +Sherman was before him. + +"Now see here, Jack," he said, picking it up, "I don't want to shoot you, +but I may have to. That young man saved your life at the risk of his own. +If that fool Dutchman had had a ball in his gun instead of a wad, Mr. +Brice would have been killed." + +A strange thing happened. Brinsmade took one long look at Stephen, turned +on his heel, and walked off rapidly through the grove. And it may be +added that for some years after he was not seen in St. Louis. + +For a moment the other two stood staring after him. Then Mr. Sherman took +his boy by the hand. + +"Mr. Brice," he said, "I've seen a few things done in my life, but +nothing better than this. Perhaps the day may come when you and I may +meet in the army. They don't seem to think much of us now," he added, +smiling, "but we may be of use to 'em later. If ever I can serve you, Mr. +Brice, I beg you to call on me." + +Stephen stammered his acknowledgments. And Mr. Sherman, nodding his head +vigorously, went away southward through the grove, toward Market Street. + +The column was moving on. The dead were being laid in carriages, and the +wounded tended by such physicians as chanced to be on the spot. Stephen, +dazed at what had happened, took up the march to town. He strode faster +than the regiments with their load of prisoners, and presently he found +himself abreast the little file of dragoons who were guarded by some of +Blair's men. It was then that he discovered that the prisoners' band in +front was playing "Dixie." + +They are climbing the second hill, and are coming now to the fringe of +new residences which the rich citizens have built. Some of them are +closed and dark. In the windows and on the steps of others women are +crying or waving handkerchiefs and calling out to the prisoners, some of +whom are gay, and others sullen. A distracted father tries to break +through the ranks and rescue his son. Ah, here is the Catherwood house. +That is open. Mrs. Catherwood, with her hand on her husband's arm, with +red eyes, is scanning those faces for the sight of George. + +Will he ever come back to her? Will the Yankees murder him for treason, +or send him North to languish the rest of his life? No, she will not go +inside. She must see him. She will not faint, though Mrs. James has, +across the street, and is even now being carried into the house. Few of +us can see into the hearts of those women that day, and speak of the +suffering there. + +Near the head of Mr. Blair's regiment is Tom. His face is cast down as he +passes the house from which he is banished. Nor do father, or mother, or +sister in their agony make any sound or sign. George is coming. The +welcome and the mourning and the tears are all for him. + +The band is playing "Dixie" once more. George is coming, and some one +else. The girls are standing in a knot bend the old people, dry-eyed, +their handkerchiefs in their hands. Some of the prisoners take off their +hats and smile at the young lady with the chiselled features and brown +hair, who wears the red and white of the South as if she were born to +them. Her eyes are searching. Ah, at last she sees him, walking erect at +the head of his dragoons. He gives her one look of entreaty, and that +smile which should have won her heart long ago. As if by common consent +the heads of the troopers are uncovered before her. How bravely she waves +at them until they are gone down the street! Then only do her eyes fill +with tears, and she passes into the house. + +Had she waited, she might have seen a solitary figure leaving the line of +march and striding across to Pine Street. + +That night the sluices of the heavens were opened, and the blood was +washed from the grass in Lindell Grove. The rain descended in floods on +the distracted city, and the great river rose and flung brush from +Minnesota forests high up on the stones of the levee. Down in the long +barracks weary recruits, who had stood and marched all the day long, went +supperless to their hard pallets. + +Government fare was hard. Many a boy, prisoner or volunteer, sobbed +himself to sleep in the darkness. All were prisoners alike, prisoners of +war. Sobbed themselves to sleep, to dream of the dear homes that were +here within sight and sound of them, and to which they were powerless to +go. Sisters, and mothers, and wives were there, beyond the rain, holding +out arms to them. + +Is war a thing to stir the blood? Ay, while the day lasts. But what of +the long nights when husband and wife have lain side by side? What of the +children who ask piteously where their father is going, and who are +gathered by a sobbing mother to her breast? Where is the picture of that +last breakfast at home? So in the midst of the cheer which is saddest in +life comes the thought that, just one year ago, he who is the staff of +the house was wont to sit down just so merrily to his morning meal, +before going to work in the office. Why had they not thanked God on their +knees for peace while they had it? + +See the brave little wife waiting on the porch of her home for him to go +by. The sun shines, and the grass is green on the little plot, and the +geraniums red. Last spring she was sewing here with a song on her lips, +watching for him to turn the corner as he came back to dinner. But now! +Hark! Was that the beat of the drums? Or was it thunder? Her good +neighbors, the doctor and his wife, come in at the little gate to cheer +her. She does not hear them. Why does God mock her with sunlight and with +friends? + +Tramp, tramp, tramp! They are here. Now the band is blaring. That is his +company. And that is his dear face, the second from the end. Will she +ever see it again? Look, he is smiling bravely, as if to say a thousand +tender things. "Will, are the flannels in your knapsack? You have not +forgotten that medicine for your cough?" What courage sublime is that +which lets her wave at him? Well for you, little woman, that you cannot +see the faces of the good doctor and his wife behind you. Oh, those guns +of Sumter, how they roar in your head! Ay, and will roar again, through +forty years of widowhood! + +Mrs. Brice was in the little parlor that Friday night, listening to the +cry of the rain outside. Some thoughts such as these distracted her. Why +should she be happy, and other mothers miserable? The day of reckoning +for her happiness must surely come, when she must kiss Stephen a brave +farewell and give him to his country. For the sins of the fathers are +visited on the children, unto the third and fourth generation of them +that hate Him who is the Ruler of all things. + +The bell rang, and Stephen went to the door. He was startled to see Mr. +Brinsmade. That gentleman was suddenly aged, and his clothes were wet and +spattered with mud. He sank into a chair, but refused the spirits and +water which Mrs. Brice offered him in her alarm. + +"Stephen," he said, "I have been searching the city for John. Did you see +him at Camp Jackson--was he hurt?" + +"I think not, sir," Stephen answered, with clear eyes. + +"I saw him walking southward after the firing was all over." + +"Thank God," exclaimed Mr. Brinsmade, fervently. "If you will excuse me, +madam, I shall hurry to tell my wife and daughter. I have been able to +find no one who saw him." + +As he went out he glanced at Stephen's forehead. But for once in his +life, Mr. Brinsmade was too much agitated to inquire about the pain of +another. + +"Stephen, you did not tell me that you saw John," said his mother, when +the door was closed. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +IN THE ARSENAL + +There was a dismal tea at Colonel Carvel's house in Locust Street that +evening Virginia did not touch a mouthful, and the Colonel merely made a +pretence of eating. About six o'clock Mrs. Addison Colfax had driven in +from Bellegarde, nor could it rain fast enough or hard enough to wash the +foam from her panting horses. She did not wait for Jackson to come out +with an umbrella, but rushed through the wet from the carriage to the +door in her haste to urge the Colonel to go to the Arsenal and demand +Clarence's release. It was in vain that Mr. Carvel assured her it would +do no good, in vain that he told her of a more important matter that +claimed him. Could there be a more important matter than his own nephew +kept in durance, and in danger of being murdered by Dutch butchers in the +frenzy of their victory? Mrs. Colfax shut herself up in her room, and +through the door Virginia heard her sobs as she went down to tea. + +The Colonel made no secret of his uneasiness. With his hat on his head, +and his hands in his pockets, he paced up and down the room. He let his +cigar go out,--a more serious sign still. Finally he stood with his face +to the black window, against which the big drops were beating in a fury. + +Virginia sat expressionless at the head of the table, still in that gown +of white and crimson, which she had worn in honor of the defenders of the +state. Expressionless, save for a glance of solicitation at her father's +back. If resolve were feminine, Virginia might have sat for that +portrait. There was a light in her dark blue eyes. Underneath there were +traces of the day's fatigue. When she spoke, there was little life in her +voice. + +"Aren't you going to the Planters' House, Pa The Colonel turned, and +tried to smile. + +"I reckon not to-night, Jinny. Why?" + +"To find out what they are going to do with Clarence," she said +indignantly. + +"I reckon they don't know at the Planters' House," he said. + +"Then--" began Virginia, and stopped. + +"Then what?" he asked, stroking her hair. + +"Then why not go to the Barracks? Order the carriage, and I will go with +you." + +His smile faded. He stood looking down at her fixedly, as was sometimes +his habit. Grave tenderness was in his tone. + +"Jinny," he said slowly, "Jinny, do you mean to marry Clarence?" + +The suddenness of the question took her breath. But she answered +steadily: + +"Yes." + +"Do you love him? + +"Yes," she answered. But her lashes fell. + +Still he stood, and it seemed to her that her father's gaze pierced to +her secret soul. + +"Come here, my dear," he said. + +He held out his arms, and she fluttered into them. The tears were come at +last. It was not the first time she had cried out her troubles against +that great heart which had ever been her strong refuge. From childhood +she had been comforted there. Had she broken her doll, had Mammy Easter +been cross, had lessons gone wrong at school, was she ill, or weary with +that heaviness of spirit which is woman's inevitable lot,--this was her +sanctuary. But now! This burden God Himself had sent, and none save her +Heavenly Father might cure it. Through his great love for her it was +given to Colonel Carvel to divine it--only vaguely. + +Many times he strove to speak, and could not. But presently, as if +ashamed of her tears, she drew back from him and took her old seat on the +arm of his chair. + +By the light of his intuition, the Colonel chose tins words well. What he +had to speak of was another sorrow, yet a healing one. + +"You must not think of marriage now, my dear, when the bread we eat may +fail us. Jinny, we are not as rich as we used to be. Our trade was in the +South and West, and now the South and West cannot pay. I had a conference +with Mr. Hopper yesterday, and he tells me that we must be prepared." + +She laid her hand upon his. + +"And did you think I would care, dear?" she asked gently. "I can bear +with poverty and rags, to win this war." + +"His own eyes were dim, but pride shone in them. Jackson came in on +tiptoe, and hesitated. At the Colonel's motion he took away the china and +the silver, and removed the white cloth, and turned low the lights in the +chandelier. He went out softly, and closed the door. + +"Pa," said Virginia, presently, "do you trust Mr. Hopper?" + +The Colonel gave a start. + +"Why, yes, Jinny. He improved the business greatly before this trouble +came. And even now we are not in such straits as some other houses." + +"Captain Lige doesn't like him." + +"Lige has prejudices." + +"So have I," said Virginia. "Eliphalet Hopper will serve you so long as +he serves himself. No longer." + +"I think you do him an injustice, my dear," answered the Colonel. But +uneasiness was in his voice. "Hopper is hard working, scrupulous to a +cent. He owns two slaves now who are running the river. He keeps out of +politics, and he has none of the Yankee faults." + +"I wish he had," said Virginia. + +The Colonel made no answer to this. Getting up, he went over to the +bell-cord at the door and pulled it. Jackson came in hurriedly. + +"Is my bag packed?" + +"Yes, Marsa." + +"Where are you going?" cried Virginia, in alarm. + +"To Jefferson City, dear, to see the Governor. I got word this +afternoon." + +"In the rain?" + +He smiled, and stooped to kiss her. + +"Yes," he answered, "in the rain as far as the depot, I can trust you, +Jinny. And Lige's boat will be back from New Orleans to-morrow or +Sunday." + +The next morning the city awoke benumbed, her heart beating but feebly. +Her commerce had nearly ceased to flow. A long line of boats lay idle, +with noses to the levee. Men stood on the street corners in the rain, +reading of the capture of Camp Jackson, and of the riot, and thousands +lifted up their voices to execrate the Foreign City below Market Street. +A vague terror, maliciously born, subtly spread. The Dutch had broken up +the camp, a peaceable state institution, they had shot down innocent +women and children. What might they not do to the defenceless city under +their victorious hand, whose citizens were nobly loyal to the South? Sack +it? Yes, and burn, and loot it. Ladies who ventured out that day crossed +the street to avoid Union gentlemen of their acquaintance. + +It was early when Mammy Easter brought the news paper to her mistress. +Virginia read the news, and ran joyfully to her aunt's room. Three times +she knocked, and then she heard a cry within. Then the key was turned and +the bolt cautiously withdrawn, and a crack of six inches disclosed her +aunt. + +"Oh, how you frightened me, Jinny!" she cried. "I thought it was the +Dutch coming to murder us all, What have they done to Clarence?" + +"We shall see him to-day, Aunt Lillian," was the joyful answer. "The +newspaper says that all the Camp Jackson prisoners are to be set free +to-day, on parole. Oh, I knew they would not dare to hold them. The whole +state would have risen to their rescue." + +Mrs. Colfax did not receive these tidings with transports. She permitted +her niece to come into her room, and then: sank into a chair before the +mirror of her dressing-table, and scanned her face there. + +"I could not sleep a wink, Jinny, all night long. I look wretchedly. I am +afraid I am going to have another of my attacks. How it is raining! What +does the newspaper say?" + +"I'll get it for you," said Virginia, used to her aunt's vagaries. + +"No, no, tell me. I am much too nervous to read it." + +"It says that they will be paroled to-day, and that they passed a +comfortable night." + +"It must be a Yankee lie," said the lady. "Oh, what a night! I saw them +torturing him in a thousand ways the barbarians! I know he had to sleep +on a dirty floor with low-down trash." + +"But we shall have him here to-night, Aunt Lillian!" cried Virginia. +"Mammy, tell Uncle Ben that Mr. Clarence will be here for tea. We must +have a feast for him. Pa said that they could not hold them." + +"Where is Comyn?" inquired Mrs. Colfax. "Has he gone down to see +Clarence?" + +"He went to Jefferson City last night," replied Virginia. "The Governor +sent for him." + +Mrs. Colfax exclaimed in horror at this news. + +"Do you mean that he has deserted us?" she cried. "That he has left us +here defenceless,--at the mercy of the Dutch, that they may wreak their +vengeance upon us women? How can you sit still, Virginia? If I were your +age and able to drag myself to the street, I should be at the Arsenal +now. I should be on my knees before that detestable Captain Lyon, even if +he is a Yankee." Virginia kept her temper. + +"I do not go on my knees to any man," she said. "Rosetta, tell Ned I wish +the carriage at once." + +Her aunt seized her convulsively by the arm. + +"Where are you going, Jinny?" she demanded. "Your Pa would never forgive +me if anything happened to you." + +A smile, half pity, crossed the girl's anxious face. + +"I am afraid that I must risk adding to your misfortune, Aunt Lillian," +she said, and left the room. + +Virginia drove to Mr. Brinsmade's. His was one of the Union houses which +she might visit and not lose her self respect. Like many Southerners, +when it became a question of go or stay, Mr. Brinsmade's unfaltering love +for the Union had kept him in. He had voted for Mr. Bell, and later had +presided at Crittenden Compromise meetings. In short, as a man of peace, +he would have been willing to sacrifice much for peace. And now that it +was to be war, and he had taken his stand uncompromisingly with the +Union, the neighbors whom he had befriended for so many years could not +bring themselves to regard him as an enemy. He never hurt their feelings; +and almost as soon as the war began he set about that work which has been +done by self-denying Christians of all ages,--the relief of suffering. He +visited with comfort the widow and the fatherless, and many a night in +the hospital he sat through beside the dying, Yankee and Rebel alike, and +wrote their last letters home. + +And Yankee and Rebel alike sought his help and counsel in time of +perplexity or trouble, rather than hotheaded advice from their own +leaders. + +Mr. Brinsmade's own carriage was drawn up at his door; and that gentleman +himself standing on the threshold. He came down his steps bareheaded in +the wet to hand Virginia from her carriage. + +Courteous and kind as ever, he asked for her father and her aunt as he +led her into the house. However such men may try to hide their own trials +under a cheerful mien, they do not succeed with spirits of a kindred +nature. With the others, who are less generous, it matters not. Virginia +was not so thoughtless nor so selfish that she could not perceive that a +trouble had come to this good man. Absorbed as she was in her own +affairs, she forgot some of them in his presence. The fire left her +tongue, and to him she could not have spoken harshly even of an enemy. +Such was her state of mind, when she was led into the drawing-room. From +the corner of it Anne arose and came forward to throw her arms around her +friend. + +"Jinny, it was so good of you to come. You don't, hate me?" + +"Hate you, Anne dear!" + +"Because we are Union," said honest Anne, wishing to have no shadow of +doubt. + +Virginia was touched. "Anne," she cried, "if you were German, I believe I +should love you." + +"How good of you to come. I should not have dared go to your house, +because I know that you feel so deeply. You--you heard?" + +"Heard what?" asked Virginia, alarmed. + +"That Jack has run away--has gone South, we think. Perhaps," she cried, +"perhaps he may be dead." And tears came into the girl's eyes. + +It was then that Virginia forgot Clarence. She drew Anne to the sofa and +kissed her. + +"No, he is not dead," she said gently, but with a confidence in her voice +of rare quality. "He is not dead, Anne dear, or you would have heard." + +Had she glanced up, she would have seen Mr. Brinsmade's eye upon her. He +looked kindly at all people, but this expression he reserved for those +whom he honored. A life of service to others had made him guess that, in +the absence of her father, this girl had come to him for help of some +kind. + +"Virginia is right, Anne," he said. "John has gone to fight for his +principles, as every gentleman who is free should; we must remember that +this is his home, and that we must not quarrel with him, because we think +differently." He paused, and came over to Virginia. "There is something I +can do for you, my dear?" said he. + +She rose. "Oh, no, Mr. Brinsmade," she cried. And yet her honesty was as +great as Anne's. She would not have it thought that she came for other +reasons. "My aunt is in such a state of worry over Clarence that I came +to ask you if you thought the news true, that the prisoners are to be +paroled. She thinks it is a--" Virginia flushed, and bit a rebellious +tongue. "She does not believe it." + +Even good Mr. Brinsmade smiled at the slip she had nearly made. He +understood the girl, and admired her. He also understood Mrs. Colfax. + +"I'll drive to the Arsenal with you, Jinny," he answered. "I know +Captain Lyon, and we shall find out certainly." + +"You will do nothing of the kind, sir," said Virginia, with emphasis." +Had I known this--about John, I should not have come." + +He checked her with a gesture. What a gentleman of the old school he was, +with his white ruffled shirt and his black stock and his eye kindling +with charity. + +"My dear," he answered, "Nicodemus is waiting. I was just going myself to +ask Captain Lyon about John." Virginia's further objections were cut +short by the violent clanging of the door-bell, and the entrance of a +tall, energetic gentleman, whom Virginia had introduced to her as Major +Sherman, late of the army, and now president of the Fifth Street +Railroad. The Major bowed and shook hands. He then proceeded, as was +evidently his habit, directly to the business on which he was come. + +"Mr. Brinsmade," he said, "I heard, accidentally, half an hour ago that +you were seeking news of your son. I regret to say, sir, that the news I +have will not lead to a knowledge of his whereabouts. But in justice to a +young gentleman of this city I think I ought to tell you what happened at +Camp Jackson." + +"I shall be most grateful, Major. Sit down, sir." + +But the Major did not sit down. He stood in the middle of the room. With +some gesticulation which added greatly to the force of the story, he gave +a most terse and vivid account of Mr. John's arrival at the embankment by +the grove--of his charging a whole regiment of Union volunteers. Here was +honesty again. Mr. Sherman did not believe in mincing matters even to a +father and sister. + +"And, sir," said he, "you may thank the young man who lives next door to +you--Mr. Brice, I believe--for saving your son's life." + +"Stephen Brice!" exclaimed Mr, Brinsmade, in astonishment. + +Virginia felt Anne's hand tighten But her own was limp. A hot wave swept +over her, Was she never to hear the end of this man. + +"Yes, sir, Stephen Brice," answered Mr. Sherman. "And I never in my life +saw a finer thing done, in the Mexican War or out of it." + +Mr. Brinsmade grew a little excited. "Are you sure that you know him?" + +"As sure as I know you," said the Major, with excessive conviction. + +"But," said Mr. Brinsmade, "I was in there last night, I knew the young +man had been at the camp. I asked him if he had seen Jack. He told me +that he had, by the embankment. But he never mentioned a word about +saving his life." + +"He didn't," cried the Major. "By glory, but he's even better than I +thought him, Did you see a black powder mark on his face?" + +"Why, yes, sir, I saw a bad burn of some kind on his forehead." + +"Well, sir, if one of the Dutchmen who shot at Jack had known enough to +put a ball in his musket, he would have killed Mr. Brice, who was only +ten feet away, standing before your son." + +Anne gave a little cry--Virginia was silent--Her lips were parted. Though +she realized it not, she was thirsting %a hear the whole of the story. + +The Major told it, soldier fashion, but well. How John rushed up to the +line. How he (Mr. Sherman) had seen Brice throw the woman down and had +cried to him to lie down himself how the fire was darting down the +regiment, and how men and women were falling all about them; and how +Stephen had flung Jack and covered him with his body. + +It was all vividly before Virginia's eyes. Had she any right to treat +such a man with contempt? She remembered hour he had looked, at her when +he stood on the corner by the Catherwoods' house. And, worst of all, she +remembered many spiteful remarks she had made, even to Anne, the gist of +which had been that Mr. Brice was better at preaching than at fighting. +She knew now--and she had known in her heart before--that this was the +greatest injustice she could have done him. + +"But Jack? What did Jack do?" + +It was Anne who tremblingly asked the Major. But Mr. Sherman, apparently, +was not the man to say that Jack would have shot Stephen had he not +interfered. That was the ugly part of the story. John would have shot the +man who saved his life. To the day of his death neither Mr. Brinsmade nor +his wife knew this. But while Mr. Brinsmade and Anne had gone upstairs to +the sickbed, these were the tidings the Major told Virginia, who kept it +in her heart. The reason he told her was because she had guessed a part +of it. + +Nevertheless Mr. Brinsmade drove to the Arsenal with her that Saturday, +in his own carriage. Forgetful of his own grief, long habit came to him +to talk cheerily with her. He told her many little anecdotes of his +travel, but not one of them did she hear. Again, at the moment when she +thought her belief in Clarence and her love for him at last secure, she +found herself drawing searching comparisons between him and the quieter +young Bostonian. In spite of herself she had to admit that Stephen's deed +was splendid. Was this disloyal? She flushed at the thought. Clarence had +been capable of the deed,--even to the rescue of an enemy. But--alas, +that she should carry it out to a remorseless end--would Clarence have +been equal to keeping silence when Mr. Brinsmade came to him? Stephen +Brice had not even told his mother, so Mr. Brinsmade believed. + +As if to aggravate her torture, Mr. Brinsmade's talk drifted to the +subject of young Mr. Brice. This was but natural. He told her of the +brave struggle Stephen had made, and how he had earned luxuries, and +often necessities, for his mother by writing for the newspapers. + +"Often," said Mr. Brinsmade, "often I have been unable to sleep, and have +seen the light in Stephen's room until the small hours of the morning." + +"Oh, Mr. Brinsmade," cried Virginia. "Can't you tell me something bad +about him? Just once." + +The good gentleman started, and looked searchingly at the girl by his +side, flushed and confused. Perhaps he thought--but how can we tell what +he thought? How can we guess that our teachers laugh at our pranks after +they have caned us for them? We do not remember that our parents have +once been young themselves, and that some word or look of our own brings +a part of their past vividly before them. Mr. Brinsmade was silent, but +he looked out of the carriage window, away from Virginia. And presently, +as they splashed through the mud near the Arsenal, they met a knot of +gentlemen in state uniforms on their way to the city. Nicodemus stopped +at his master's signal. Here was George Catherwood, and his father was +with him. + +"They have released us on parole," said George. "Yes, we had a fearful +night of it. They could not have kept us--they had no quarters." + +How changed he was from the gay trooper of yesterday! His bright uniform +was creased and soiled and muddy, his face unshaven, and dark rings of +weariness under his eyes. + +"Do you know if Clarence Colfax has gone home?" Mr. Brinsmade inquired. + +"Clarence is an idiot," cried George, ill-naturedly. Mr. Brinsmade, of +all the prisoners here, he refused to take the parole, or the oath of +allegiance. He swears he will remain a prisoner until he is exchanged." + +"The young man is Quixotic," declared the elder Catherwood, who was not +himself in the best of humors. + +"Sir," said Mr. Brinsmade, with as much severity as he was ever known to +use, "sir, I honor that young man for this more than I can tell you. +Nicodemus, you may drive on." And he slammed the door. + +Perhaps George had caught sight of a face in the depths of the carriage, +for he turned purple, and stood staring on the pavement after his +choleric parent had gone on. + +It was done. Of all the thousand and more young men who had upheld the +honor of their state that week, there was but the one who chose to remain +in durance vile within the Arsenal wall--Captain Clarence Colfax, late of +the Dragoons. + +Mr. Brinsmade was rapidly admitted to the Arsenal, and treated with the +respect which his long service to the city deserved. He and Virginia were +shown into the bare military room of the commanding officer, and thither +presently came Captain Lyon himself. Virginia tingled with antagonism +when she saw this man who had made the city tremble, who had set an iron +heel on the flaming brand of her Cause. He, too, showed the marks of his +Herculean labors, but only on his clothes and person. His long red hair +was unbrushed, his boots covered with black mud, and his coat unbuttoned. +His face was ruddy, and his eye as clear as though he had arisen from +twelve hours' sleep. He bowed to Virginia (not too politely, to be sure). +Her own nod of are recognition did not seem to trouble him. + +"Yes, sir," he said incisively, in response to Mr. Brinsmade's question, +"we are forced to retain Captain Colfax. He prefers to remain a prisoner +until he is exchanged. He refuses to take the oath of allegiance to the +United States. + +"And why should he be made to, Captain Lyon? In what way has he opposed +the United States troops?" + +It was Virginia who spoke. Both looked at her in astonishment. + +"You will pardon me, Miss Carvel," said Captain Lyon, gravely, "if I +refuse to discuss that question with you." Virginia bit her tongue. + +"I understand that Mr. Colfax is a near relative of yours, Miss Carvel," +the Captain continued. "His friends may come here to see him during the +day. And I believe it is not out of place for me to express my admiration +of the captain's conduct. You may care to see him now--" + +"Thank you," said Virginia, curtly. + +"Orderly, my respects to Captain Colfax, and ask him if a he will be kind +enough to come in here. Mr. Brinsmade," said the Captain, "I should like +a few words with you, sir." And so, thanks to the Captain's delicacy, +when Clarence arrived he found Virginia alone. She was much agitated She +ran toward him as he entered the door, calling his name. + +"Max, you are going to stay here?" + +"Yes, until I am exchanged." + +Aglow with admiration, she threw herself into his arms. Now, indeed, was +she proud of him. Of all the thousand defenders of the state, he alone +was true to his principles--to the South. Within sight of home, he alone +had chosen privation. + +She looked up into his face, which showed marks of excitement and +fatigue. But above all, excitement. She knew that he could live on +excitement. The thought came to her--was it that which sustained him now? +She put it away as treason. Surely the touch of this experience would +transform the boy into the man. This was the weak point in the armor +which she wore so bravely for her cousin. + +He had grown up to idleness. He had known neither care nor +responsibility. His one longing from a child had been that love of +fighting and adventure which is born in the race. Until this gloomy day +in the Arsenal, Virginia had never characterized it as a love of +excitement---as any thing which contained a selfish element. She looked +up into his face, I say, and saw that which it is given to a woman only +to see. His eyes burned with a light that was far away. Even with his +arms around her he seemed to have forgotten her presence, and that she +had come all the way to the Arsenal to see him. Her hands dropped limply +from his shoulders She drew away, as he did not seem to notice. + +So it is with men. Above and beyond the sacrifice of a woman's life, the +joy of possessing her soul and affection, is something more desirable +still--fame and glory--personal fame and glory, The woman may share them, +of course, and be content with the radiance. When the Governor in making +his inauguration speech, does he always think of the help the little wife +has given him. And so, in moments of excitement, when we see far ahead +into a glorious future, we do not feel the arms about us, or value the +sweets which, in more humdrum days, we labored so hard to attain. + +Virginia drew away, and the one searching glance she gave him he did not +see. He was staring far beyond; tears started in her eyes, and she turned +from him to look out over the Arsenal grounds, still wet and heavy with +the night's storm. The day itself was dark and damp. She thought of the +supper cooking at home. It would not be eaten now. + +And yet, in that moment of bitterness Virginia loved him. Such are the +ways of women, even of the proudest, who love their country too. It was +but right that he should not think of her when the honor of the South was +at stake; and the anger that rose within her was against those nine +hundred and ninety-nine who had weakly accepted the parole. + +"Why did Uncle Comyn not come?" asked Clarence. + +"He has gone to Jefferson City, to see the Governor.." + +"And you came alone?" + +"No, Mr. Brinsmade brought me." + +"And mother?" + +She was waiting for that question. What a relief that should have come +among the first. + +"Aunt Lillian feels very badly. She was in her room when I left. She was +afraid," (Virginia had to smile), "she was afraid the Yankees would kill +you." + +"They have behaved very well for Yankees," replied he, "No luxury, and +they will not hear of my having a servant. They are used to doing their +own work. But they have treated me much better since I refused to take +their abominable oath." + +"And you will be honored for it when the news reaches town." + +"Do you think so, Jinny?" Clarence asked eagerly, "I reckon they will +think me a fool!" + +"I should like to hear any one say so," she flashed out. + +"No," said Virginia, "our friends will force them to release you. I do +not know much about law. But you have done nothing to be imprisoned for." + +Clarence did not answer at once. Finally he said. "I do not want to be +released." + +"You do not want to be released," she repeated. + +"No," he said. "They can exchange me. If I remain a prisoner, it will +have a greater effect--for the South." + +She smiled again, this time at the boyish touch of heroics. Experience, +responsibility, and he would get over that. She remembered once, long +ago, when his mother had shut him up in his room for a punishment, and he +had tortured her by remaining there for two whole days. + +It was well on in the afternoon when she drove back to the city with Mr. +Brinsmade. Neither of them had eaten since morning, nor had they even +thought of hunger. Mr. Brinsmade was silent, leaning back in the corner +of the carriage, and Virginia absorbed in her own thoughts. Drawing near +the city, that dreaded sound, the rumble of drums, roused them. A shot +rang out, and they were jerked violently by the starting of the horses. +As they dashed across Walnut at Seventh came the fusillade. Virginia +leaned out of the window. Down the vista of the street was a mass of blue +uniforms, and a film of white smoke hanging about the columns of the old +Presbyterian Church Mr. Brinsmade quietly drew her back into the +carriage. + +The shots ceased, giving place to an angry roar that struck terror to her +heart that wet and lowering afternoon. The powerful black horses galloped +on. Nicodemus tugging at the reins, and great splotches of mud flying in +at the windows. The roar of the crowd died to an ominous moaning behind +them. Then she knew that Mr. Brinsmade was speaking:-- "From battle and +murder, and from sudden death--from all sedition, privy conspiracy, and +rebellion,--Good Lord, deliver us." + +He was repeating the Litany--that Litany which had come down through the +ages. They had chanted it in Cromwell's time, when homes were ruined and +laid waste, and innocents slaughtered. They had chanted it on the dark, +barricaded stairways of mediaeval Paris, through St. Bartholomew's night, +when the narrow and twisted streets, ran with blood. They had chanted it +in ancient India, and now it was heard again in the New World and the New +Republic of Peace and Good Will. + +Rebellion? The girl flinched at the word which the good gentleman had +uttered in his prayers. Was she a traitor to that flag for which her +people had fought in three wars? Rebellion! She burned to blot it forever +from the book Oh, the bitterness of that day, which was prophecy of the +bitterness to come. + +Rain was dropping as Mr. Brinsmade escorted her up her own steps. He held +her hand a little at parting, and bade her be of good cheer. Perhaps he +guessed something of the trial she was to go through that night alone +with her aunt, Clarence's mother. Mr. Brinsmade did not go directly home. +He went first to the little house next door to his. Mrs. Brice and Judge +Whipple were in the parlor: What passed between them there has not been +told, but presently the Judge and Mr. Brinsmade came out together and +stood along time in, the yard, conversing, heedless of the rain. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE STAMPEDE + +Sunday dawned, and the people flocked to the churches. But even in the +house of God were dissension and strife. From the Carvel pew at Dr. +Posthelwaite's Virginia saw men and women rise from their knees and walk +out--their faces pale with anger. At St. Mark's the prayer for the +President of the United States was omitted. Mr. Russell and Mr. +Catherwood nodded approvingly over the sermon in which the South was +justified, and the sanction of Holy Writ laid upon her Institution. With +not indifferent elation these gentlemen watched the departure of brethren +with whom they had labored for many years, save only when Mr. Brinsmade +walked down the aisle never to return. So it is that war, like a +devastating flood, creeps insistent into the most sacred places, and will +not be denied. Mr. Davitt, at least, preached that day to an united +congregation,--which is to say that none of them went out. Mr. Hopper, +who now shared a pew with Miss Crane, listened as usual with a most +reverent attention. The clouds were low and the streets wet as people +walked home to dinner, to discuss, many in passion and some in sorrow, +the doings of the morning. A certain clergyman had prayed to be delivered +from the Irish, the Dutch, and the Devil. Was it he who started the old +rumor which made such havoc that afternoon? Those barbarians of the +foreign city to the south, drunk with power, were to sack and loot the +city. How it flew across street and alley, from yard to yard, and from +house to house! Privileged Ned ran into the dining-room where Virginia +and her aunt were sitting, his eyes rolling and his face ashen with +terror, crying out that the Dutch were marching on the city, firebrands +in hand and murder in their hearts. + +"De Gen'ral done gib out er procl'mation, Miss Jinny," he cried. "De +Gen'ral done say in dat procl'mation dat he ain't got no control ober de +Dutch soldiers." + +Mrs. Colfax fainted. + +"Oh Miss Jinny, ain't you gwineter Glencoe? Ain't you gwineter flee away? +Every fambly on dis here street's gwine away--is packin' up fo' de +country. Doan't you hear 'em, Miss Jinny? What'll your pa say to Ned of +he ain't make you clear out! Doan't you hear de carridges a-rattlin' off +to de country?" + +Virginia rose in agitation, yet trying to be calm, and to remember that +the safety of the household depended upon her alone. That was her +thought,--bred into her by generations,--the safety of the household, of +the humblest slave whose happiness and welfare depended upon her father's +bounty. How she longed in that instant for her father or Captain Lige, +for some man's strength, to depend upon. Would there be wisdom in flight? + +"Do you want to go, Ned?" she asked. She has seen her aunt swoon before, +and her maid Susan knows well what to do. "Do you want to go, Ned?" + +"Laws Mussy, no, Miss Jinny. One nigger laik me doan't make no +difference. My Marsa he say: 'Whaffor you leave ma house to be ramsacked +by de Dutch?' + +"What I gwineter answer? Oh Miss Jinny, you an' Miss Lill an' Mammy +Easter an' Susan's gwine with Jackson, an' de othah niggahs can walk. +Ephum an' me'll jes' put up de shutters an' load de Colonel's gun." + +By this time the room was filled with excited negroes, some crying, and +some laughing hysterically. Uncle Ben had come in from the kitchen; +Jackson was there, and the women were a wailing bunch in the corner by +the sideboard. Old Ephum, impassive, and Ned stood together. Virginia's +eye rested upon them, and the light of love and affection was in it. She +went to the window. Yes, carriages were indeed rattling outside, though a +sharp shower was falling. Across the street Alphonse, M. Renault's +butler, was depositing bags and bundles on the steps. M. Renault himself +bustled out into the rain, gesticulating excitedly. Spying her at the +window, he put his hands to his mouth, cried out something, and ran in +again. Virginia flung open the sash and listened for the dreaded sound of +drums. Then she crossed quickly over to where her aunt was lying on the +lounge. + +"O Jinny," murmured that lady, who had revived, "can't you do something? +Haven't you done anything? They will be here any moment to burn us, to +murder us--to--oh, my poor boy! Why isn't he here to protect his mother! +Why was Comyn so senseless, so thoughtless, as to leave us at such a +time!" + +"I don't think there is any need to be frightened," said Virginia, with a +calmness that made her aunt tremble with anger. "It is probably only a +rumor. Ned, run to Mr. Brinsmade's and ask him about it." + +However loath to go, Ned departed at once. All honor to those old-time +negroes who are now memories, whose devotion to their masters was next to +their love of God. A great fear was in Ned's heart, but he went. And he +believed devoutly that he would never see his young mistress any more. + +And while Ned is running to Mr. Brinsmade's, Mrs. Colfax is summoning +that courage which comes to persons of her character at such times. She +gathers her jewels into a bag, and her fine dresses into her trunk, with +trembling hands, although she is well enough now. The picture of Clarence +in the diamond frame she puts inside the waist of her gown. No, she will +not go to Bellegarde. That is too near the city. With frantic haste she +closes the trunk, which Ephum and Jackson carry downstairs and place +between the seats of the carriage. Ned had had the horses in it since +church time. It is not safe outside. But where to go? + +To Glencoe? It is three in the afternoon, and Jackson explains that, with +the load, they would not reach there until midnight, if at all. To +Kirkwood or Webster? Yes; many of the first families live there, and +would take them in for the night. Equipages of all sorts are passing, +--private carriages and public, and corner-stand hacks. The black drivers +are cracking whips over galloping horses. + +Pedestrians are hurrying by with bundles under their arms, some running +east, and some west, and some stopping to discuss excitedly the chances +of each direction. From the river comes the hoarse whistle of the boats +breaking the Sabbath stillness there. It is a panic to be remembered. + +Virginia leaned against the iron railing of the steps, watching the +scene, and waiting for Ned to return from Mr. Brinsmade's. Her face was +troubled, as well it might be. The most alarming reports were cried up to +her from the street, and she looked every moment for the black smoke of +destruction to appear to the southward. Around her were gathered the +Carvel servants, most of them crying, and imploring her not to leave +them. And when Mrs. Colfax's trunk was brought down and placed in the +carriage where three of them might have ridden to safety, a groan of +despair and entreaty rose from the faithful group that went to her heart. + +"Miss Jinny, you ain't gwineter leave yo' ol mammy?" + +"Hush, Mammy," she said. "No, you shall all go, if I have to stay myself. +Ephum, go to the livery stable and get another carriage." + +She went up into her own deserted room to gather the few things she would +take with her--the little jewellery case with the necklace of pearls +which her great-grandmother had worn at her wedding. Rosetta and Mammy +Easter were of no use, and she had sent them downstairs again. With a +flutter she opened her wardrobe door, to take one last look at the gowns +there. You will pardon her. They were part of happier days gone by. She +fell down on her knees and opened the great drawer at the bottom, and +there on the top lay the dainty gown which had belonged to Dorothy +Manners. A tear fell upon one of the flowers of the stays. Irresistibly +pressed into her mind the memory of Anne's fancy dress ball,--of the +episode by the gate, upon which she had thought so often with burning +face. + +The voices below grow louder, but she does not hear. She is folding the +gown hurriedly into a little package. It was her great-grandmother's; her +chief heirloom after the pearls. Silk and satin from Paris are left +behind. With one glance at the bed in which she had slept since +childhood, and at the picture over it which had been her mother's, she +hurries downstairs. And Dorothy Manners's gown is under her arm. On the +landing she stops to brush her eyes with her handkerchief. If only her +father were here! + +Ah, here is Ned back again. Has Mr. Brinsmade come? + +What did he say? Ned simply pointed out a young man standing on the steps +behind the negroes. Crimson stains were on Virginia's cheeks, and the +package she carried under her arm was like lead. The young man, although +he showed no signs of excitement, reddened too as he came forward and +took off his hat. But the sight of him had acurious effect upon Virginia, +of which she was at first unconscious. A sense of security came upon her +as she looked at his face and listened to his voice. + +"Mr. Brinsmade has gone to the hospital, Miss Carvel," he said. "Mrs. +Brinsmade asked me to come here with your man in the hope that I might +persuade you to stay where you are." + +"Then the Germans are not moving on the city?" she said. + +In spite of himself, Stephen smiled. It was that smile that angered her, +that made her rebel against the advice he had to offer; that made her +forget the insult he had risked at her hands by coming there. For she +believed him utterly, without reservation. The moment he had spoken she +was convinced that the panic was a silly scare which would be food for +merriment in future years. And yet--was not that smile in derision of +herself--of her friends who were running away? Was it not an assumption +of Northern superiority, to be resented? + +"It is only a malicious rumor, Miss Carvel," he answered. "You have been +told so upon good authority, I suppose," she said dryly. And at the +change in her tone she saw his face fall. + +"I have not," he replied honestly, "but I will submit it to your own +judgment. Yesterday General Harney superseded Captain Lyon in command in +St. Louis. Some citizens of prominence begged the General to send the +troops away, to avoid further ill-feeling and perhaps--bloodshed." (They +both winced at the word.) "Colonel Blair represented to the General that +the troops could not be sent away, as they had been enlisted to serve +only in St. Louis; whereupon the General in his proclamation states that +he has no control over these Home Guards. That sentence has been twisted +by some rascal into a confession that the Home Guards are not to be +controlled. I can assure you, Miss Carvel," added Stephen, speaking with +a force which made her start and thrill, "I can assure you from a +personal knowledge of the German troops that they are not a riotous lot, +and that they are under perfect control. If they were not, there are +enough regulars in the city to repress them." + +He paused. And she was silent, forgetful of the hub-bub around her. It +was then that her aunt called out to her, with distressing shrillness, +from the carriage:-- "Jinny, Jinny, how can you stand there talking to +young men when our lives are in danger?" + +She glanced hurriedly at Stephen, who said gently; "I do not wish to +delay you, Miss Carvel, if you are bent upon going." + +She wavered. His tone was not resentful, simply quiet. Ephum turned the +corner of the street, the perspiration running on his black face. + +"Miss Jinny, dey ain't no carridges to be had in this town. No'm, not for +fifty dollars." + +This was the occasion for another groan from the negroes, and they began +once more to beseech her not to leave them. In the midst of their cries +she heard her aunt calling from the carriage, where, beside the trunk, +there was just room for her to squeeze in. + +"Jinny," cried that lady, frantically, "are you to go or stay? The +Hessians will be here at any moment. Oh, I cannot stay here to be +murdered!" + +Unconsciously the girl glanced again at Stephen. He had not gone, but was +still standing in the rain on the steps, the one figure of strength and +coolness she had seen this afternoon. Distracted, she blamed the fate +which had made this man an enemy. How willingly would she have leaned +upon such as he, and submitted to his guidance. Unluckily at that moment +came down the street a group which had been ludicrous on any other day, +and was, in truth, ludicrous to Stephen then. At the head of it was a +little gentleman with red mutton-chop whiskers, hatless, in spite of the +rain beginning to fall. His face was the very caricature of terror. His +clothes, usually neat, were awry, and his arms were full of various +things, not the least conspicuous of which was a magnificent bronze +clock. It was this object that caught Virginia's eye. But years passed +before she laughed over it. Behind Mr. Cluyme (for it was he) trotted his +family. Mrs. Cluyme, in a pink wrapper, carried an armful of the family +silver; then came Belle with certain articles of feminine apparel which +need not be enumerated, and the three small Cluymes of various ages +brought up the rear. + +Mr. Cluyme, at the top of his speed, was come opposite to the carriage +when the lady occupant got out of it. Clutching at his sleeve, she +demanded where he was going. The bronze clock had a narrow escape. + +"To the river," he gasped. "To the river, madame!" His wife coming after +him had a narrower escape still. Mrs. Colfax retained a handful of lace +from the wrapper, the owner of which emitted a shriek of fright. + +"Virginia, I am going to the river," said Mrs. Colfax. "You may go where +you choose. I shall send the carriage back for you. Ned, to the levee!" +Ned did not lift a rein. + +"What, you black rascal! You won't obey me?" + +Ned swung on his seat. "No, indeedy, Miss Lilly, I ain't a-gwine 'thout +young Miss. The Dutch kin cotch me an' hang me, but I ain't a-gwine +'thout Miss Jinny." + +Mrs. Colfax drew her shawl about her shoulders with dignity. + +"Very well, Virginia," she said. "Ill as I am, I shall walk. Bear witness +that I have spent a precious hour trying to save you. If I live to see +your father again, I shall tell him that you preferred to stay here and +carry on disgracefully with a Yankee, that you let your own aunt risk her +life alone in the rain. Come, Susan!" + +Virginia was very pale. She did not run down the steps, but she caught +her aunt by the arm ere that lady had taken six paces. The girl's face +frightened Mrs. Colfax into submission, and she let herself be led back +into the carriage beside the trunk. Those words of Mrs. Colfax's stung +Stephen to righteous anger and resentment--for Virginia. + +As to himself, he had looked for insult. He turned to go that he might +not look upon her confusion; and hanging on the resolution, swung on his +heel again, his eyes blazeing. He saw in hers the deep blue light of the +skies after an evening's storm. She was calm, and save for a little +quiver of the voice, mistress of herself as she spoke to the group of +cowering servants. + +"Mammy," she said, "get up on the box with Ned. And, Ned, walk the horses +to the levee, so that the rest may follow. Ephum, you stay here with the +house, and I will send Ned back to keep you company." + +With these words, clasping tightly the precious little bundle under her +arm, she stepped into the carriage. Heedless of the risk he ran, sheer +admiration sent Stephen to the carriage door. + +"If I can be of any service, Miss Carvel," he said, "I shall be happy." + +She glanced at him wildly. + +"No," she cried, "no. Drive on, Ned!" + +And as the horses slipped and started she slammed the door in his face. + +Down on the levee wheels rattled over the white stones washed clean by +the driving rain. The drops pelted the chocolate water into froth, and a +blue veil hid the distant bluffs beyond the Illinois bottom-lands. Down +on the Levee rich and poor battled for places on the landing-stages, and +would have thrown themselves into the flood had there been no boats to +save them from the dreaded Dutch. Attila and his Huns were not more +feared. Oh, the mystery of that foreign city! What might not its +Barbarians do when roused? The rich and poor struggled together; but +money was a power that day, and many were pitilessly turned off because +they did not have the high price to carry them--who knew where? + +Boats which screamed, and boats which had a dragon's roar were backing +out of the close ranks where they had stood wheel-house to wheel-house, +and were dodging and bumping in the channel. See, their guards are black +with people! Mrs. Colfax, when they are come out of the narrow street +into the great open space, remarks this with alarm. All the boats will be +gone before they can get near one. But Virginia does not answer. She is +thinking of other things than the steamboats, and wondering whether it +had not been preferable to be killed by Hessians. + +Ned spies the 'Barbara Lane'. He knows that her captain, Mr. Vance, is a +friend of the family. What a mighty contempt did Ned and his kind have +for foot passengers! Laying about him with his whip, and shouting at the +top of his voice to make himself heard, he sent the Colonel's Kentucky +bays through the crowd down to the Barbara's landing stage, the people +scampering to the right and left, and the Carvel servants, headed by +Uncle Ben, hanging on to the carriage springs, trailing behind. + +Here was a triumph for Ned, indeed! He will tell you to this day how Mr. +Catherwood's carriage was pocketed by drays and bales, and how Mrs. +James's horses were seized by the bridles and turned back. Ned had a head +on his shoulders, and eyes in his head. He spied Captain Vance himself on +the stage, and bade Uncle Ben hold to the horses while he shouldered his +way to that gentleman. The result was that the Captain came bowing to the +carriage door, and offered his own cabin to the ladies. But the niggers +---he would take no niggers except a maid for each; and he begged Mrs. +Colfax's pardon--he could not carry her trunk. + +So Virginia chose Mammy Easter, whose red and yellow turban was awry from +fear lest she be left behind and Ned was instructed to drive the rest +with all haste to Bellegarde. Captain Vance gave Mrs. Colfax his arm, and +Virginia his eyes. He escorted the ladies to quarters in the texas, and +presently was heard swearing prodigiously as the boat was cast off. It +was said of him that he could turn an oath better than any man on the +river, which was no mean reputation. + +Mrs. Colfax was assisted to bed by Susan. Virginia stood by the little +window of the cabin, and as the Barbara paddled and floated down the +river she looked anxiously for signals of a conflagration. Nay, in that +hour she wished that the city might burn. So it is that the best of us +may at times desire misery to thousands that our own malice may be fed. +Virginia longed to see the yellow flame creep along the wet, gray clouds. +Passionate tears came to her eyes at the thought of the humiliation she +had suffered,--and before him, of all men. Could she ever live with her +aunt after what she had said? "Carrying on with that Yankee!" The +horrible injustice of it! + +Her anger, too, was still against Stephen. Once more he had been sent by +circumstances to mock her and her people. If the city would only burn, +that his cocksure judgment might for once be mistaken, his calmness for +once broken! + +The rain ceased, the clouds parted, and the sun turned the muddy river to +gold. The bluffs shone May-green in the western flood of light, and a +haze hung over the bottom-lands. Not a sound disturbed the quiet of the +city receding to the northward, and the rain had washed the pall of smoke +from over it. On the boat excited voices died down to natural tones; men +smoked on the guards and promenaded on the hurricane deck, as if this +were some pleasant excursion. Women waved to the other boats flocking +after. Laughter was heard, and joking. Mrs. Colfax stirred in her berth +and began to talk. + +"Virginia, where are we going?" Virginia did not move + +"Jinny!" + +She turned. In that hour she remembered that great good-natured man, her +mother's brother, and for his sake Colonel Carvel had put up with much +from his wife's sister in-law. She could pass over, but never forgive +what her aunt had said to her that afternoon. Mrs. Colfax had often been +cruel before, and inconsiderate. But as the girl thought of the speech, +staring out on the waters, it suddenly occurred to her that no lady would +have uttered it. In all her life she had never realized till now that her +aunt was not a lady. From that time forth Virginia's attitude toward her +aunt was changed. + +She controlled herself, however, and answered something, and went out +listlessly to find the Captain and inquire the destination of the boat. +Not that this mattered much to her. At the foot of the companionway +leading to the saloon deck she saw, of all people, Mr. Eliphalet Hopper +leaning on the rail, and pensively expectorating on the roof of the +wheel-house. In another mood Virginia would have laughed, for at sight of +her he straightened convulsively, thrust his quid into his cheek, and +removed his hat with more zeal than the grudging deference he usually +accorded to the sex. Clearly Eliphalet would not have chosen the +situation. + +"I cal'late we didn't get out any too soon, Miss Carvel," he remarked, +with a sad attempt at jocoseness. "There won't be a great deal in that +town when the Dutch get through with it." + +"I think that there are enough men left in it to save it," said Virginia. + +Apparently Mr. Hopper found no suitable answer to this, for he made none. +He continued to glance at her uneasily. There was an impudent tribute in +his look which she resented strongly. + +"Where is the Captain?" she demanded. + +"He's down below--ma'am," he replied. "Can--can I do anything?" + +"Yes," she said, with abrupt maliciousness, "you may tell me where you +are going." + +"I cal'late, up the Cumberland River. That's where she's bound for, if +she don't stop before she gets there Guess there ain't many of 'em +inquired where she was goin', or cared much," he added, with a ghastly +effort to be genial. + +"Do you care?" she demanded, curiously. Eliphalet grinned. + +"Not a great deal," he said. Then he felt called upon to defend himself. +"I didn't see any use in gettin' murdered, when I couldn't do anything." + +She left him. He stared after her up the companionway, bit off a generous +piece of tobacco, and ruminated. If to be a genius is to possess an +infinite stock of patience, Mr. Hopper was a genius. There was patience +in his smile. But it was not a pleasant smile to look upon. + +Virginia did not see it. She had told her aunt the news, and stood in the +breeze on the hurricane deck looking southward, with her hand shading her +eyes. The 'Barbara Lane' happened to be a boat with a record, and her +name was often in the papers. She had already caught up with and +distanced others which had had half an hour's start of her, and was near +the head of the procession. + +Virginia presently became aware that people were gathering around her in +knots, gazing at a boat coming toward them. Others had been met which, on +learning the dread news, turned back. But this one kept her bow steadily +up the current, although she had passed within a biscuit-toss of the +leader of the line of refugees. It was then that Captain Vance's hairy +head appeared above the deck. + +"Dang me!" he said, "if here ain't pig-headed Brent, steaming the +'Jewanita' straight to destruction." + +"Oh, are you sure it's Captain Brent?" cried Virginia. The Captain looked +around in surprise. + +"If that there was Shreve's old Enterprise come to life again, I'd lay +cotton to sawdust that Brent had her. Danged if he wouldn't take her +right into the jaws of the Dutch." + +The Captain's words spread, and caused considerable excitement. On board +the Barbara Lane were many gentlemen who had begun to be shamefaced over +their panic, and these went in a body to the Captain and asked him to +communicate with the 'Juanita'. Whereupon a certain number of whistles +were sounded, and the Barbara's bows headed for the other side of the +channel. + +As the Juanita drew near, Virginia saw the square figure and clean, +smooth-shaven face of Captain Lige standing in front of his wheel-house +Peace crept back into her soul, and she tingled with joy as the bells +clanged and the bucket-planks churned, and the great New Orleans packet +crept slowly to the Barbara's side. + +"You ain't goin' in, Brent?" shouted the Barbara's captain. + +"Why not?" responded Mr. Brent. At the sound of his voice Virginia could +have wept. + +"The Dutch are sacking the city," said Vance. "Didn't they tell you?" + +"The Dutch--hell!" said Mr, Brent, calmly. "Who's afraid of the Dutch?" + +A general titter went along the guards, and Virginia blushed. Why could +not the Captain see her? + +"I'm on my reg'lar trip, of course," said Vance. Out there on the sunlit +river the situation seemed to call for an apology. + +"Seems to be a little more loaded than common," remarked Captain Lige, +dryly, at which there was another general laugh. + +"If you're really goin' up," said Captain Vance, I reckon there's a few +here would like to be massacred, if you'll take 'em." + +"Certainly," answered Mr. Brent; "I'm bound for the barbecue." And he +gave a command. + +While the two great boats were manoeuvring, and slashing with one wheel +and the other, the gongs sounding, Virginia ran into the cabin. + +"Oh, Aunt Lillian," she exclaimed, "here is Captain Lige and the Juanita, +and he is going to take us back with him. He says there is no danger." + +It its unnecessary here to repeat the moral persuasion which Virginia +used to get her aunt up and dressed. That lady, when she had heard the +whistle and the gongs, had let her imagination loose. Turning her face to +the wall, she was in the act of repeating her prayers as her niece +entered. + +A big stevedore carried her down two decks to where the gang-plank was +thrown across. Captain Lige himself was at the other end. His face +lighted, Pushing the people aside, he rushed across, snatched the lady +from the negro's arms, crying: + +"Jinny! Jinny Carvel! Well, if this ain't fortunate." The stevedore's +services were required for Mammy Easter. And behind the burly shield thus +formed, a stoutish gentleman slipped over, all unnoticed, with a +carpet-bag in his hand It bore the initials E. H. + +The plank was drawn in. The great wheels began to turn and hiss, the +Barbara's passengers waved good-by to the foolhardy lunatics who had +elected to go back into the jaws of destruction. Mrs. Colfax was put into +a cabin; and Virginia, in a glow, climbed with Captain Lige to the +hurricane deck. There they stood for a while in silence, watching the +broad stern of the Barbara growing smaller. "Just to think," Miss Carvel +remarked, with a little hysterical sigh, "just to think that some of +those people brought bronze clocks instead of tooth-brushes." + +"And what did you bring, my girl?" asked the Captain, glancing at the +parcel she held so tightly under her arm. + +He never knew why she blushed so furiously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE STRAINING OF ANOTHER FRIENDSHIP + +Captain Lige asked but two questions: where was the Colonel, and was it +true that Clarence had refused to be paroled? Though not possessing +over-fine susceptibilities, the Captain knew a mud-drum from a lady's +watch, as he himself said. In his solicitude for Virginia, he saw that +she was in no state of mind to talk of the occurrences of the last few +days. So he helped her to climb the little stair that winds to the top of +the texas,--that sanctified roof where the pilot-house squats. The girl +clung to her bonnet Will you like her any the less when you know that it +was a shovel bonnet, with long red ribbons that tied under her chin? It +became her wonderfully. "Captain Lige," she said, almost tearfully, as +she took his arm, "how I thank heaven that you came up the river this +afternoon!" + +"Jinny," said the Captain, "did you ever know why cabins are called +staterooms?" + +"Why, no," answered she, puzzled. + +"There was an old fellow named Shreve who ran steamboats before Jackson +fought the redcoats at New Orleans. In Shreve's time the cabins were +curtained off, just like these new-fangled sleeping-car berths. The old +man built wooden rooms, and he named them after the different states, +Kentuck, and Illinois, and Pennsylvania. So that when a fellow came +aboard he'd say: 'What state am I in, Cap?' And from this river has the +name spread all over the world--stateroom. That's mighty interesting," +said Captain Lige. + +"Yea," said Virginia; "why didn't you tell me long ago." + +"And I'll bet you can't say," the Captain continued, "why this house +we're standing on is called the texas." + +"Because it is annexed to the states," she replied, quick a flash. + +"Well, you're bright," said he. "Old Tufts got that notion, when Texas +came in. Like to see Bill Jenks?" + +"Of course," said Virginia. + +Bill Jenks was Captain Brent's senior pilot. His skin hung on his face in +folds, like that of a rhinoceros It was very much the same color. His +grizzled hair was all lengths, like a worn-out mop; his hand reminded one +of an eagle's claw, and his teeth were a pine yellow. He greeted only +such people as he deemed worthy of notice, but he had held Virginia in +his arms. + +"William," said the young lady, roguishly, "how is the eye, location, and +memory?" + +William abandoned himself to a laugh. When this happened it was put in +the Juanita's log. + +"So the Cap'n be still harpin' on that?" he said, "Miss Jinny, he's just +plumb crazy on a pilot's qualifications." + +"He says that you are the best pilot on the river, but I don't believe +it," said Virginia. + +William cackled again. He made a place for her on the leather-padded seat +at the back of the pilot house, where for a long time she sat staring at +the flag trembling on the jackstaff between the great sombre pipes. The +sun fell down, but his light lingered in the air above as the big boat +forged abreast the foreign city of South St. Louis. There was the +arsenal--grim despite its dress of green, where Clarence was confined +alone. + +Captain Lige came in from his duties below. "Well, Jinny, we'll soon be +at home," he said. "We've made a quick trip against the rains." + +"And--and do you think the city is safe?" + +"Safe!" he cried. "As safe as London!" He checked himself. "Jinny, would +you like to blow the whistle?" + +"I should just love to," said Virginia. And following Mr. Jenks's +directions she put her toe on the tread, and shrank back when the monster +responded with a snort and a roar. River men along the levee heard that +signal and laughed. The joke was certainly not on sturdy Elijah Brent. + +An hour later, Virginia and her aunt and the Captain, followed by Mammy +aster and Rosetta and Susan, were walking through the streets of the +stillest city in the Union. All that they met was a provost's guard, for +St. Louis was under Martial Law. Once in a while they saw the light of +some contemptuous citizen of the residence district who had stayed to +laugh. Out in the suburbs, at the country houses of the first families, +people of distinction slept five and six in a room--many with only a +quilt between body and matting. Little wonder that these dreamed of +Hessians and destruction. In town they slept with their doors open, those +who remained and had faith. Martial law means passes and explanations, +and walking generally in the light of day. Martial law means that the +Commander-in-chief, if he be an artist in well doing, may use his boot +freely on politicians bland or beetle-browed. No police force ever gave +the sense of security inspired by a provost's guard. + +Captain Lige sat on the steps of Colonel Carvel's house that night, long +after the ladies were gone to bed. The only sounds breaking the silence +of the city were the beat of the feet of the marching squads and the call +of the corporal's relief. But the Captain smoked in agony until the +clouds of two days slipped away from under the stars, for he was trying +to decide a Question. Then he went up to a room in the house which had +been known as his since the rafters were put down on that floor. + +The next morning, as the Captain and Virginia sit at breakfast together +with only Mammy Easter to cook and Rosetta to wait on them, the Colonel +bursts in. He is dusty and travel-stained from his night on the train, +but his gray eyes light with affection as he sees his friend beside his +daughter. + +"Jinny," he cries as he kisses her, "Jinny, I'm proud oil you, my girl! +You didn't let the Yankees frighten you--But where is Jackson?" + +And so the whole miserable tale has to be told over again, between +laughter and tears on Virginia's part, and laughter and strong language +on Colonel Carvel's. What--blessing that Lige met them, else the Colonel +might now be starting for the Cumberland River in search of his daughter. +The Captain does not take much part in the conversation, and he refuses +the cigar which is offered him. Mr. Carvel draws back in surprise. + +"Lige," he says, "this is the first time to my knowledge." + +"I smoked too many last night," says the Captain. The Colonel sat down, +with his feet against the mantel, too full of affairs to take much notice +of Mr. Brent's apathy. + +"The Yanks have taken the first trick--that's sure," he said. "But I +think we'll laugh last, Jinny. Jefferson City isn't precisely quiet. The +state has got more militia, or will have more militia in a day or two. We +won't miss the thousand they stole in Camp Jackson. They're organizing up +there. And I've got a few commissions right here," and he tapped his +pocket. + +"Pa," said Virginia, "did you volunteer?" + +The Colonel laughed. + +"The Governor wouldn't have me," he answered. "He said I was more good +here in St. Louis. I'll go later. What's this I hear about Clarence?" + +Virginia related the occurrences of Saturday. The Colonel listened with +many exclamations, slapping his knee from time to time as she proceeded. + +"By gum!" he cried, when she had finished, "the boy has it in him, after +all! They can't hold him a day--can they, Lige?" (No answer from the +Captain, who is eating his breakfast in silence.) "All that we have to do +is to go for Worington and get a habeas corpus from the United States +District Court. Come on, Lige." The Captain got up excitedly, his face +purple. + +"I reckon you'll have to excuse me, Colonel," he said. "There's a cargo +on my boat which has got to come off." And without more ado he left the +room. In consternation they heard the front door close behind him. And +yet, neither father nor daughter dared in that hour add to the trial of +the other by speaking out the dread that was in their hearts. The Colonel +smoked for a while, not a word escaping him, and then he patted +Virginia's cheek. + +"I reckon I'll run over and see Russell, Jinny," he said, striving to be +cheerful. "We must get the boy out. I'll see a lawyer." He stopped +abruptly in the hall and pressed his hand to his forehead. "My God," he +whispered to himself, "if I could only go to Silas!" + +The good Colonel got Mr. Russell, and they went to Mr. Worington, Mrs. +Colfax's lawyer, of whose politics it is not necessary to speak. There +was plenty of excitement around the Government building where his Honor +issued the writ. There lacked not gentlemen of influence who went with +Mr. Russell and Colonel Carvel and the lawyer and the Commissioner to the +Arsenal. They were admitted to the presence of the indomitable Lyon, who +informed them that Captain Colfax was a prisoner of war, and, since the +arsenal was Government property, not in the state. The Commissioner +thereupon attested the affidavit to Colonel Carvel, and thus the +application for the writ was made legal. + +These things the Colonel reported to Virginia; and to Mrs. Colfax, who +received them with red eyes and a thousand queries as to whether that +Yankee ruffian would pay any attention to the Sovereign law which he +pretended to uphold; whether the Marshal would not be cast over the +Arsenal wall by the slack of his raiment when he went to serve the writ. +This was not the language, but the purport, of the lady's questions. +Colonel Carvel had made but a light breakfast: he had had no dinner, and +little rest on the train. But he answered his sister-in-law with +unfailing courtesy. He was too honest to express a hope which he did not +feel. He had returned that evening to a dreary household. During the day +the servants had straggled in from Bellegarde, and Virginia had had +prepared those dishes which her father loved. Mrs. Colfax chose to keep +her room, for which the two were silently thankful. Jackson announced +supper. The Colonel was humming a tune as he went down the stairs, but +Virginia was not deceived. He would not see the yearning in her eyes as +he took his chair; he would not glance at Captain Lige's empty seat. It +was because he did not dare. She caught her breath when she saw that the +food on his plate lay untouched. + +"Pa, are you ill?" she faltered. + +He pushed his chair away, such suffering in his look as she had never +seen. + +"Jinny," he said, "I reckon Lige is for the Yankees." + +"I have known it all along," she said, but faintly. + +"Did he tell you?" her father demanded. "No." + +"My God," cried the Colonel, in agony, "to think that he kept it from me +I to think that Lige kept it from me!" + +"It is because he loves you, Pa," answered the girl, gently, "it is +because he loves us." + +He said nothing to that. Virginia got up, and went softly around the +table. She leaned over his shoulder. "Pa!" + +"Yes," he said, his voice lifeless. + +But her courage was not to be lightly shaken. "Pa, will you forbid him to +come here--now?" + +A long while she waited for his answer, while the big clock ticked out +the slow seconds in the hall, and her heart beat wildly. + +"No," said the Colonel. "As long as I have a roof, Lige may come under +it." + +He rose abruptly and seized his bat. She did not ask him where he was +going, but ordered Jackson to keep the supper warm, and went into the +drawing-room. The lights were out, then, but the great piano that was her +mother's lay open. Her fingers fell upon the keys. That wondrous hymn +which Judge Whipple loved, which for years has been the comfort of those +in distress, floated softly with the night air out of the open window. It +was "Lead, Kindly Light." Colonel Carvel heard it, and paused. + +Shall we follow him? + +He did not stop again until he reached the narrow street at the top of +the levee bank, where the quaint stone houses of the old French residents +were being loaded with wares. He took a few steps back-up the hill. Then +he wheeled about, walked swiftly down the levee, and on to the +landing-stage beside which the big 'Juanita' loomed in the night. On her +bows was set, fantastically, a yellow street-car. + +The Colonel stopped mechanically. Its unexpected appearance there had +served to break the current of his meditations. He stood staring at it, +while the roustabouts passed and repassed, noisily carrying great logs of +wood on shoulders padded by their woollen caps. + +"That'll be the first street-car used in the city of New Orleans, if it +ever gets there, Colonel." + +The Colonel jumped. Captain Lige was standing beside him. + +"Lige, is that you? We waited supper for you." + +"Reckon I'll have to stay here and boss the cargo all night. Want to get +in as many trips as I can before--navigation closes," the Captain +concluded significantly. + +Colonel Carvel shook his head. "You were never too busy to come for +supper, Lige. I reckon the cargo isn't all." + +Captain Lige shot at him a swift look. He gulped. + +"Come over here on the levee," said the Colonel, sternly. They walked out +together, and for some distance in silence. + +"Lige," said the elder gentleman, striking his stick on the stones, "if +there ever was a straight goer, that's you. You've always dealt squarely +with me, and now I'm going to ask you a plain question. Are you North or +South?" + +"I'm North, I reckon," answered the Captain, bluntly. The Colonel bowed +his head. It was a long time before he spoke again. The Captain waited +like a man who expects and deserve, the severest verdict. But there was +no anger in Mr. Carvel's voice--only reproach. + +"And you wouldn't tell me, Lige? You kept it from me." + +"My God, Colonel," exclaimed the other, passionately, "how could I? I owe +what I have to your charity. But for you and--and Jinny I should have +gone to the devil. If you and she are taken away, what have I left in +life? I was a coward, sir, not to tell you. You must have guessed it. And +yet,--God help me,--I can't stand by and see the nation go to pieces. +Your nation as well as mine, Colonel. Your fathers fought that we +Americans might inherit the earth--" He stopped abruptly. Then he +continued haltingly, "Colonel, I know you're a man of strong feelings and +convictions. All I ask is that you and Jinny will think of me as a +friend--" + +He choked, and turned away, not heeding the direction of his feet. The +Colonel, his stick raised, stood looking after him. He was folded in the +near darkness before he called his name. + +"Lige!" + +"Yes, Colonel." + +He came back, wondering, across the rough stones until he stood beside +the tall figure. Below them, the lights glided along the dark water. + +"Lige, didn't I raise you? Haven't I taught you that my house was your +home? Come back, Lige. But--but never speak to me again of this night! +Jinny is waiting for us." + +Not a word passed between them as they went up the quiet street. At the +sound of their feet in the entry the door was flung open, and Virginia, +with her hands out stretched, stood under the hall light. + +"Oh, Pa, I knew you would bring him back," she said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +OF CLARENCE + +Captain Clarence Colfax, late of the State Dragoons, awoke on Sunday +morning the chief of the many topics of the conversation of a big city. +His conduct drew forth enthusiastic praise from the gentlemen and ladies +who had thronged Beauregard and Davis avenues, and honest admiration from +the party which had broken up the camp. The boy had behaved well. There +were many doting parents, like Mr. Catherwood, whose boys had accepted +the parole, whose praise was a trifle lukewarm, to be sure. But popular +opinion, when once aroused, will draw a grunt from the most grudging. + +We are not permitted, alas, to go behind these stern walls and discover +how Captain Colfax passed that eventful Sunday of the Exodus. We know +that, in his loneliness, he hoped for a visit from his cousin, and took +to pacing his room in the afternoon, when a smarting sense of injustice +crept upon him. Clarence was young. And how was he to guess, as he looked +out in astonishment upon the frightened flock of white boats swimming +southward, that his mother and his sweetheart were there? + +On Monday, while the Colonel and many prominent citizens were busying +themselves about procuring the legal writ which was at once to release +Mr. Colfax, and so cleanse the whole body of Camp Jackson's defenders +from any, veiled intentions toward the Government, many well known +carriages drew up before the Carvel House in Locust Street to +congratulate the widow and the Colonel upon the possession of such a son +and nephew. There were some who slyly congratulated Virginia, whose +martyrdom it was to sit up with people all the day long. For Mrs, Colfax +kept her room, and admitted only a few of her bosom friends to cry with +her. When the last of the callers was gone, Virginia was admitted to her +aunt's presence. + +"Aunt Lillian, to-morrow morning Pa and I are going to the Arsenal with a +basket for Max. Pa seems to think there is a chance that he may come back +with us. You will go, of course." + +The lady smiled wearily at the proposal, and raised her hands in protest, +the lace on the sleeves of her dressing gown falling away from her white +arms. + +"Go, my dear?" she exclaimed, "when I can't walk to my bureau after that +terrible Sunday. You are crazy, Jinny. No," she added, with conviction, +"I never again expect to see him alive. Comyn says they may release him, +does he? Is he turning Yankee, too?" + +The girl went away, not in anger or impatience, but in sadness. Brought +up to reverence her elders, she had ignored the shallowness of her aunt's +character in happier days. But now Mrs. Colfax's conduct carried a +prophecy with it. Virginia sat down on the landing to ponder on the years +to come,--on the pain they were likely to bring with them from this +source--Clarence gone to the war; her father gone (for she felt that he +would go in the end), Virginia foresaw the lonely days of trial in +company with this vain woman whom accident made her cousin's mother. Ay, +and more, fate had made her the mother of the man she was to marry. The +girl could scarcely bear the thought--through the hurry and swing of the +events of two days she had kept it from her mind. + +But now Clarence was to be released. To-morrow he would be coming home to +her joyfully for his reward, and she did not love him. She was bound to +face that again and again. She had cheated herself again and again with +other feelings. She had set up intense love of country in the shrine +where it did not belong, and it had answered--for a while. She saw +Clarence in a hero's light--until a fatal intimate knowledge made her +shudder and draw back. And yet her resolution should not be water. She +would carry it through. + +Captain Lige's cheery voice roused her from below--and her father's +laugh. And as she went down to them she thanked God that this friend had +been spared to him. Never had the Captain's river yarns been better told +than at the table that evening. Virginia did not see him glance at the +Colonel when at last he had brought a smile to her face. + +"I'm going to leave Jinny with you, Lige," said Mr. Carvel, presently. +"Worington has some notion that the Marshal may go to the Arsenal +to-night with the writ. I mustn't neglect the boy." + +Virginia stood in front of him. "Won't you let me go?" she pleaded + +The Colonel was taken aback. He stood looking down at her, stroking his +goatee, and marvelling at the ways of woman. + +"The horses have been out all day, Jinny," he said, "I am going in the +cars." + +"I can go in the cars, too." + +The Colonel looked at Captain Lige. + +"There is only a chance that we shall see Clarence," he went on, +uneasily. + +"It is better than sitting still," cried Virginia, as she ran away to get +the bonnet with the red strings. + +"Lige,--" said the Colonel, as the two stood awaiting her in the hall, "I +can't make her out. Can you?" + +The Captain did not answer. + +It was a long journey, in a bumping car with had springs that rattled +unceasingly, past the string of provost guards. The Colonel sat in the +corner, with his head bent down over his stick At length, cramped and +weary, they got out, and made their way along the Arsenal wall, past the +sentries to the entrance. The sergeant brought his rifle to a "port". + +"Commandant's orders, sir. No one admitted," he said. + +"Is Captain Colfax here?" asked Mr. Carver + +"Captain Colfax was taken to Illinois in a skiff, quarter of an hour +since." + +Captain Lige gave vent to a long, low whistle. + +"A skiff!" he exclaimed, "and the river this high! A skiff!" + +Virginia clasped his arm in terror. "Is there danger?" + +Before he could answer came the noise of steps from the direction of the +river, and a number of people hurried up excitedly. Colonel Carvel +recognized Mr. Worington, the lawyer, and caught him by the sleeve. + +"Anything happened?" he demanded. + +Worington glanced at the sentry, and pulled the Colonel past the entrance +and into the street. Virginia and Captain Lige followed. + +"They have started across with him in a light skiff----four men and a +captain. The young fool! We had him rescued." + +"Rescued!" + +"Yes. There were but five in the guard. And a lot of us, who suspected +what they were up to, were standing around. When we saw 'em come down, we +made a rush and had the guard overpowered But Colfax called out to stand +back." + +"Well, sir." + +"Cuss me if I understand him," said Mr. Worington. "He told us to +disperse, and that he proposed to remain a prisoner and go where they +sent him." + +There was a silence. Then-- "Move on please, gentlemen," said the sentry, +and they started to walk toward the car line, the lawyer and the Colonel +together. Virginia put her hand through the Captain's arm. In the +darkness he laid his big one over it. + +"Don't you be frightened, Jinny, at what I said, I reckon they'll fetch +up in Illinois all right, if I know Lyon. There, there," said Captain +Lige, soothingly. Virginia was crying softly. She had endured more in the +past few days than often falls to the lot of one-and-twenty. + +"There, there, Jinny." He felt like crying himself. He thought of the +many, many times he had taken her on his knee and kissed her tears. He +might do that no more, now. There was the young Captain, a prisoner on +the great black river, who had a better right, Elijah Brent wondered, as +they waited in the silent street for the lonely car, if Clarence loved +her as well as he. + +It was vary late when they reached home, and Virginia went silently up to +her room. Colonel Carvel stared grimly after her, then glanced at his +friend as he turned down the lights. The eyes of the two met, as of old, +in true understanding. + +The sun was still slanting over the tops of the houses the next morning +when Virginia, a ghostly figure, crept down the stairs and withdrew the +lock and bolt on the front door. The street was still, save for the +twittering of birds and the distant rumble of a cart in its early rounds. +The chill air of the morning made her shiver as she scanned the entry for +the newspaper. Dismayed, she turned to the clock in the hall. Its hands +were at quarter past five. + +She sat long behind the curtains in her father's little library, the +thoughts whirling in her brain as she watched the growing life of another +day. What would it bring forth? Once she stole softly back to the entry, +self-indulgent and ashamed, to rehearse again the bitter and the sweet of +that scene of the Sunday before. She summoned up the image of the young +man who had stood on these steps in front of the frightened servants. She +seemed to feel again the calm power and earnestness of his face, to hear +again the clear-cut tones of his voice as he advised her. Then she drew +back, frightened, into the sombre library, conscience-stricken that she +should have yielded to this temptation then, when Clarence--She dared not +follow the thought, but she saw the light skiff at the mercy of the angry +river and the dark night. + +This had haunted her. If he were spared, she prayed for strength to +consecrate herself to him A book lay on the table, and Virginia took +refuge in it. And her eyes glancing over the pages, rested on this +verse:-- + + "Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums, + That beat to battle where he stands; + Thy face across his fancy comes, + And gives the battle to his hands." + +The paper brought no news, nor mentioned the ruse to which Captain Lyon +had resorted to elude the writ by transporting his prisoner to Illinois. +Newspapers were not as alert then as now. Colonel Carvel was off early to +the Arsenal in search of tidings. He would not hear of Virginia's going +with him. Captain Lige, with a surer instinct, went to the river. What a +morning of suspense! Twice Virginia was summoned to her aunt, and twice +she made excuse. It was the Captain who returned first, and she met him +at the door. + +"Oh, what have you heard?" she cried. + +"He is alive," said the Captain, tremulously, "alive and well, and +escaped South." + +She took a step toward him, and swayed. The Captain caught her. For a +brief instant he held her in his arms and then he led her to the great +armchair that was the Colonel's. + +"Lige," she said,--are you sure that this is not--a kindness?" + +"No, Jinny," he answered quickly, "but things were mighty close. I was +afraid last night. The river was roarin'. They struck out straight +across, but they drifted and drifted like log-wood. And then she began to +fill, and all five of 'em to bail. Then---then she went down. The five +soldiers came up on that bit of an island below the Arsenal. They hunted +all night, but they didn't find Clarence. And they got taken off to the +Arsenal this morning." + +"And how do you know?" she faltered. + +"I knew that much this morning," he continued, "and so did your pa. But +the Andrew Jackson is just in from Memphis, and the Captain tells me that +he spoke the Memphis packet off Cape Girardeau, and that Clarence was +aboard. She picked him up by a miracle, after he had just missed a round +trip through her wheel-house." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Crisis, Volume 5, by Winston Churchill + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, VOLUME 5 *** + +***** This file should be named 5392.txt or 5392.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/9/5392/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: The Crisis, Volume 5. + +Author: Winston Churchill (USA author, not Sir Winston Churchill) + +Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5392] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 28, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, V5, BY CHURCHILL *** + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + +[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the +file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an +entire meal of them. D.W.] + + + + + +THE CRISIS + +By Winston Churchill + + +Volume 5. + + +XVI. The Guns of Sumter +XVII. Camp Jackson +XVIII. The Stone that is Rejected +XIX. The Tenth of May. +XX. In the Arsenal +XXI. The Stampede +XXII. The Straining of Another Friendship +XXIII. Of Clarence + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE GUNS OF SUMTER + +Winter had vanished. Spring was come with a hush. Toward a little +island set in the blue waters of Charleston harbor anxious eyes were +strained. + +Was the flag still there? + +God alone may count the wives and mothers who listened in the still hours +of the night for the guns of Sumter. One sultry night in April Stephen's +mother awoke with fear in her heart, for she had heard them. Hark! that +is the roar now, faint but sullen. That is the red flash far across the +black Southern sky. For in our beds are the terrors and cruelties of +life revealed to us. There is a demon to be faced, and nought alone. + +Mrs. Brice was a brave woman. She walked that night with God. + +Stephen, too, awoke. The lightning revealed her as she bent over him. +On the wings of memory be flew back to his childhood in the great Boston +house with the rounded front, and he saw the nursery with its high +windows looking out across the Common. Often in the dark had she come to +him thus, her gentle hand passing over aim to feel if he were covered. + +"What is it, mother?" he said. + +She said: "Stephen, I am afraid that the war has come." + +He sat up, blindly. Even he did not guess the agony in her heart. + +"You will have to go, Stephen." + +It was long before his answer came. + +"You know that I cannot, mother. We have nothing left but the little I +earn. And if I were--" He did not finish the sentence, for he felt her +trembling. But she said again, with that courage which seems woman's +alone: + +"Remember Wilton Brice. Stephen--I can get along. I can sew." + +It was the hour he had dreaded, stolen suddenly upon him out of the +night. How many times had he rehearsed this scene to himself! He, +Stephen Brice, who had preached and slaved and drilled for the Union, +a renegade to be shunned by friend and foe alike! He had talked for his +country, but he would not risk his life for it. He heard them repeating +the charge. He saw them passing him silently on the street. Shamefully +he remembered the time, five months agone, when he had worn the very +uniform of his Revolutionary ancestor. And high above the tier of his +accusers he saw one face, and the look of it stung to the very quick of +his soul. + +Before the storm he had fallen asleep in sheer weariness of the struggle, +that face shining through the black veil of the darkness. If he were to +march away in the blue of his country (alas, not of hers!) she would +respect him for risking life for conviction. If he stayed at home, she +would not understand. It was his plain duty to his mother. And yet he +knew that Virginia Carvel and the women like her were ready to follow +with bare feet the march of the soldiers of the South. + +The rain was come now, in a flood. Stephen's mother could not see in the +blackness the bitterness on his face. Above the roar of the waters she +listened for his voice. + +"I will not go, mother," he said. "If at length every man is needed, +that will be different." + +"It is for you to decide, my son," she answered. "There are many ways in +which you can serve your country here. But remember that you may have to +face hard things." + +"I have had to do that before, mother," he replied calmly. "I cannot +leave you dependent upon charity." + +She went back into her room to pray, for she knew that he had laid his +ambition at her feet. + +It was not until a week later that the dreaded news came. All through +the Friday shells had rained on the little fort while Charleston looked +on. No surrender yet. Through a wide land was that numbness which +precedes action. Force of habit sent men to their places of business, +to sit idle. A prayerful Sunday intervened. Sumter had fallen. South +Carolina had shot to bits the flag she had once revered. + +On the Monday came the call of President Lincoln for volunteers. +Missouri was asked for her quota. The outraged reply of her governor +went back,--never would she furnish troops to invade her sister states. +Little did Governor Jackson foresee that Missouri was to stand fifth of +all the Union in the number of men she was to give. To her was credited +in the end even more men than stanch Massachusetts. + +The noise of preparation was in the city--in the land. On the Monday +morning, when Stephen went wearily to the office, he was met by Richter +at the top of the stairs, who seized his shoulders and looked into his +face. The light of the zealot was on Richter's own. + +"We shall drill every night now, my friend, until further orders. It is +the Leader's word. Until we go to the front, Stephen, to put down +rebellion." Stephen sank into a chair, and bowed his head. What would +he think,--this man who had fought and suffered and renounced his native +land for his convictions? Who in this nobler allegiance was ready to die +for them? How was he to confess to Richter, of all men? + +"Carl," he said at length, "I--I cannot go." + +"You--you cannot go? You who have done so much already! And why?" + +Stephen did not answer. But Richter, suddenly divining, laid his hands +impulsively on Stephen's shoulders. + +"Ach, I see," he said. "Stephen, I have saved some money. It shall be +for your mother while you are away." + +At first Stephen was too surprised for speech. Then, in spite of his +feelings, he stared at the German with a new appreciation of his +character. Then he could merely shake his head. + +"Is it not for the Union?" implored Richter, "I would give a fortune, if +I had it. Ah, my friend, that would please me so. And I do not need the +money now. I 'have--nobody." + +Spring was in the air; the first faint smell of verdure wafted across the +river on the wind. Stephen turned to the open window, tears of intense +agony in his eyes. In that instant he saw the regiment marching, and the +flag flying at its head. + +"It is my duty to stay here, Carl," he said brokenly. + +Richter took an appealing step toward him and stopped. He realized that +with this young New Englander a decision once made was unalterable. In +all his knowledge of Stephen he never remembered him to change. With the +demonstrative sympathy of his race, he yearned to comfort him, and knew +not how. Two hundred years of Puritanism had reared barriers not to be +broken down. + +At the end of the office the stern figure of the Judge appeared. + +"Mr. Brice!" he said sharply. + +Stephen followed him into the littered room behind the ground glass door, +scarce knowing what to expect,--and scarce caring, as on that first day +he had gone in there. Mr. Whipple himself closed the door, and then the +transom. Stephen felt those keen eyes searching him from their hiding- +place. + +"Mr. Brice," he said at last, "the President has called for seventy-five +thousand volunteers to crush this rebellion. They will go, and be +swallowed up, and more will go to fill their places. Mr. Brice, people +will tell you that the war will be over in ninety days. But I tell you, +sir, that it will not be over in seven times ninety days." He brought +down his fist heavily upon the table. "This, sir, will be a war to the +death. One side or the other will fight until their blood is all let, +and until their homes are all ruins." He darted at Stephen one look from +under those fierce eyebrows. "Do you intend to go sir?" + +Stephen met the look squarely. "No, sir, he answered, steadily, "not +now." + +"Humph," said the Judge. Then he began what seemed a never-ending search +among the papers on his desk. At length he drew out a letter, put on his +spectacles and read it, and finally put it down again. + +"Stephen," said Mr. Whipple, "you are doing a courageous thing. But if +we elect to follow our conscience in this world, we must not expect to +escape persecution, sir. Two weeks ago," he continued slowly, "two weeks +ago I had a letter from Mr. Lincoln about matters here. He mentions +you." + +"He remembers me!" cried Stephen + +The Judge smiled a little. "Mr. Lincoln never forgets any one," said he. +"He wishes me to extend to you his thanks for your services to the +Republican party, and sends you his kindest regards." + +This was the first and only time that Mr. Whipple spoke to him of his +labors. Stephen has often laughed at this since, and said that he would +not have heard of them at all had not the Judge's sense of duty compelled +him to convey the message. And it was with a lighter heart than he had +felt for many a day that he went out of the door. + +Some weeks later, five regiments were mustered into the service of the +United States. The Leader was in command of one. And in response to his +appeals, despite the presence of officers of higher rank, the President +had given Captain Nathaniel Lyon supreme command in Missouri. + +Stephen stood among the angry, jeering crowd that lined the streets as +the regiments marched past. Here were the 'Black Jaegers.' No wonder +the crowd laughed. Their step was not as steady, nor their files as +straight as Company A. There was Richter, his head high, his blue eyes +defiant. And there was little Tiefel marching in that place of second +lieutenant that Stephen himself should have filled. Here was another +company, and at the end of the first four, big Tom Catherwood. His +father had disowned him the day before, His two brothers, George and +little Spencer, were in a house not far away--a house from which a +strange flag drooped. + +Clouds were lowering over the city, and big drops falling, as Stephen +threaded his way homeward, the damp anal gloom of the weather in his very +soul. He went past the house where the strange flag hung against its +staff In that big city it flaunted all unchallenged. The house was +thrown wide open that day, and in its window lounged young men of +honored families. And while they joked of German boorishness and Yankee +cowardice they held rifles across their knees to avenge any insult to the +strange banner that they had set up. In the hall, through the open +doorway, the mouth of a shotted field gun could be seen. The guardians +were the Minute Men, organized to maintain the honor and dignity of the +state of Missouri. + +Across the street from the house was gathered a knot of curious people, +and among these Stephen paused. Two young men were standing on the +steps, and one was Clarence Colfax. His hands were in his pockets, and +a careless, scornful smile was on his face when he glanced down into the +street. Stephen caught that smile. Anger swept over him in a hot flame, +as at the slave auction years agone. That was the unquenchable fire of +the war. The blood throbbed in his temples as his feet obeyed,--and yet +he stopped. + +What right had he to pull down that flag, to die on the pavement before +that house? + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +CAMP JACKSON + +What enthusiasm on that gusty Monday morning, the Sixth of May, 1861! +Twelfth Street to the north of the Market House is full three hundred +feet across, and the militia of the Sovereign State of Missouri is +gathering there. Thence by order of her Governor they are to march to +Camp Jackson for a week of drill and instruction. + +Half a mile nearer the river, on the house of the Minute Men, the strange +flag leaps wildly in the wind this day. + +On Twelfth Street the sun is shining, drums are beating, and bands are +playing, and bright aides dashing hither and thither on spirited +chargers. One by one the companies are marching up, and taking place in +line; the city companies in natty gray fatigue, the country companies +often in their Sunday clothes. But they walk with heads erect and chests +out, and the ladies wave their gay parasols and cheer them. Here are the +aristocratic St. Louis Grays, Company A; there come the Washington Guards +and Washington Blues, and Laclede Guards and Missouri Guards and Davis +Guards. Yes, this is Secession Day, this Monday. And the colors are the +Stars and Stripes and the Arms of Missouri crossed. + +What are they waiting for? Why don't they move? Hark! A clatter and a +cloud of dust by the market place, an ecstasy of cheers running in waves +the length of the crowd. Make way for the dragoons! Here they come at +last, four and four, the horses prancing and dancing and pointing +quivering ears at the tossing sea of hats and parasols and ribbons. +Maude Catherwood squeezes Virginia's arm. There, riding in front, erect +and firm in the saddle, is Captain Clarence Colfax. Virginia is red and +white, and red again,--true colors of the Confederacy. How proud she was +of him now! How ashamed that she even doubted him! Oh, that was his +true calling, a soldier's life. In that moment she saw him at the head +of armies, from the South, driving the Yankee hordes northward and still +northward until the roar of the lakes warns them of annihilation. She +saw his chivalry sparing them. Yes, this is Secession Monday. + +Down to a trot they slow, Clarence's black thorough-bred arching his long +neck, proud as his master of the squadron which follows, four and four. +The square young man of bone and sinew in the first four, whose horse is +built like a Crusader's, is George Catherwood. And Eugenie gives a cry +and points to the rear where Maurice is riding. + +Whose will be the Arsenal now? Can the Yankee regiments with their +slouchy Dutchmen hope to capture it! If there are any Yankees in Twelfth +Street that day, they are silent. Yes, there are some. And there are +some, even in the ranks of this Militia--who will fight for the Union. +These are sad indeed. + +There is another wait, the companies standing at ease. Some of the +dragoons dismount, but not the handsome young captain, who rides straight +to the bright group which has caught his eye, Colonel Carvel wrings his +gauntleted hand. + +"Clarence, we are proud of you, sir," he says. + +And Virginia, repeats his words, her eyes sparkling, her fingers +caressing the silken curve of Jefferson's neck. + +"Clarence, you will drive Captain Lyon and his Hessians into the river." + +"Hush, Jinny," he answered, "we are merely going into camp to learn to +drill, that we may be ready to defend the state when the time comes." + +Virginia laughed. "I had forgotten," she said. + +"You will have your cousin court-martialed, my dear," said the Colonel. + +Just then the call is sounded. But he must needs press Virginia's hand +first, and allow admiring Maude and Eugenie to press his. Then he goes +off at a slow canter to join his dragoons, waving his glove at them, and +turning to give the sharp order, "Attention"! to his squadron. + +Virginia is deliriously happy. Once more she has swept from her heart +every vestige of doubt. Now is Clarence the man she can admire. Chosen +unanimously captain of the Squadron but a few days since, Clarence had +taken command like a veteran. George Catherwood and Maurice had told the +story. + +And now at last the city is to shake off the dust of the North. "On to +Camp Jackson!" was the cry. The bands are started, the general and +staff begin to move, and the column swings into the Olive Street road, +followed by a concourse of citizens awheel and afoot, the horse cars +crowded. Virginia and Maude and the Colonel in the Carvel carriage, and +behind Ned, on the box, is their luncheon in a hamper Standing up, the +girls can just see the nodding plumes of the dragoons far to the front. + +Olive Street, now paved with hot granite and disfigured by trolley wires, +was a country road then. Green trees took the place of crowded rows of +houses and stores, and little "bob-tail" yellow cars were drawn by +plodding mules to an inclosure in a timbered valley, surrounded by a +board fence, known as Lindell Grove. It was then a resort, a picnic +ground, what is now covered by close residences which have long shown the +wear of time. + +Into Lindell Grove flocked the crowd, the rich and the poor, the +proprietor and the salesmen, to watch the soldiers pitch their tents +under the spreading trees. The gallant dragoons were off to the west, +across a little stream which trickled through the grounds. By the side +of it Virginia and Maude, enchanted, beheld Captain Colfax shouting his +orders while his troopers dragged the canvas from the wagons, and +staggered under it to the line. Alas! that the girls were there! The +Captain lost his temper, his troopers, perspiring over Gordian knots in +the ropes, uttered strange soldier oaths, while the mad wind which blew +that day played a hundred pranks. + +To the discomfiture of the young ladies, Colonel Carvel pulled his goatee +and guffawed. Virginia was for moving away. + +"How mean, Pa," she said indignantly. "How car, you expect them to do it +right the first day, and in this wind?" + +"Oh! Jinny, look at Maurice!" exclaimed Maude, giggling. "He is pulled +over on his head." + +The Colonel roared. And the gentlemen and ladies who were standing by +laughed, too. Virginia did not laugh. It was all too serious for her. + +"You will see that they can fight," she said. "They can beat the Yankees +and Dutch." + +This speech made the Colonel glance around him: Then he smiled,--in +response to other smiles. + +"My dear," he said, "you must remember that this is a peaceable camp of +instruction of the state militia. There fly the Stars and Stripes from +the general's tent. Do you see that they are above the state flag? +Jinny; you forget yourself." + +Jinny stamped her foot + +"Oh, I hate dissimulation," she cried, "Why can't we, say outright that +we are going to run that detestable Captain Lyon and his Yankees and +Hessians out of the Arsenal." + +"Why not, Colonel Carvel?" cried Maude. She had forgotten that one of +her brothers was with the Yankees and Hessians. + +"Why aren't women made generals and governors?" said the Colonel. + +"If we were," answered Virginia, "something might be accomplished." + +"Isn't Clarence enough of a fire-eater to suit you?" asked her father. + +But the tents were pitched, and at that moment the young Captain was seen +to hand over his horse to an orderly, and to come toward them. He was +followed by George Catherwood. + +"Come, Jinny," cried her cousin, "let us go over to the main camp." + +"And walk on Davis Avenue," said Virginia, flushing with pride. "Isn't +there a Davis Avenue?" + +"Yes, and a Lee Avenue, and a Beauregard Avenue," said George, taking his +sister's arm. + +"We shall walk in them all," said Virginia. + +What a scene of animation it was. The rustling trees and the young grass +of early May, and the two hundred and forty tents in lines of military +precision. Up and down the grassy streets flowed the promenade, proud +fathers and mothers, and sweethearts and sisters and wives in gala dress. +Wear your bright gowns now, you devoted women. The day is coming when +you will make them over and over again, or tear them to lint, to stanch +the blood of these young men who wear their new gray so well. + +Every afternoon Virginia drove with her father and her aunt to Camp +Jackson. All the fashion and beauty of the city were there. The bands +played, the black coachmen flecked the backs of their shining horses, +and walking in the avenues or seated under the trees were natty young +gentlemen in white trousers and brass-buttoned jackets. All was not +soldier fare at the regimental messes. Cakes and jellies and even ices +and more substantial dainties were laid beneath those tents. Dress +parade was one long sigh of delight: Better not to have been born than to +have been a young man in St. Louis, early in Camp Jackson week, and not +be a militiaman. + +One young man whom we know, however, had little of pomp and vanity about +him,--none other than the young manager (some whispered "silent partner") +of Carvel & Company. If Mr. Eliphalet had had political ambition, or +political leanings, during the half-year which had just passed, he had +not shown them. Mr. Cluyme (no mean business man himself) had pronounced +Eliphalet a conservative young gentleman who attended to his own affairs +and let the mad country take care of itself. This is precisely the wise +course Mr. Hopper chose. Seeing a regiment of Missouri Volunteers +slouching down Fifth street in citizens' clothes he had been remarked to +smile cynically. But he kept his opinions so close that he was supposed +not to have any. + +On Thursday of Camp Jackson week, an event occurred in Mr. Carvel's store +which excited a buzz of comment. Mr. Hopper announced to Mr. Barbo, the +book-keeper, that he should not be there after four o'clock. To be sure, +times were more than dull. The Colonel that morning had read over some +two dozen letters from Texas and the Southwest, telling of the +impossibility of meeting certain obligations in the present state of the +country. The Colonel had gone home to dinner with his brow furrowed. +On the other hand, Mr. Hopper's equanimity was spoken of at the widow's +table. + +At four o'clock, Mr. Hopper took an Olive Street car, tucking himself +into the far corner where he would not be disturbed by any ladies who +might enter. In the course of an hour or so, he alighted at the western +gate of the camp on the Olive Street road. Refreshing himself with a +little tobacco, he let himself be carried leisurely by the crowd between +the rows of tents. A philosophy of his own (which many men before and +since have adopted) permitted him to stare with a superior good nature at +the open love-making around him. He imagined his own figure,--which was +already growing a little stout,--in a light gray jacket and duck +trousers, and laughed. Eliphalet was not burdened with illusions of that +kind. These heroes might have their hero-worship. Life held something +dearer for him. + +As he was sauntering toward a deserted seat at the foot of a tree, it so +chanced that he was overtaken by Mr. Cluyme and his daughter Belle. Only +that morning, this gentleman, in glancing through the real estate column +of his newspaper, had fallen upon a deed of sale which made him wink. He +reminded his wife that Mr. Hopper had not been to supper of late. So now +Mr. Cluyme held out his hand with more than common cordiality. When Mr. +Hopper took it, the fingers did not close any too tightly over his own. +But it may be well to remark that Mr. Hopper himself did not do any +squeezing. He took off his hat grudgingly to Miss Belle. He had never +liked the custom. + +"I hope you will take pot luck with us soon again, Mr. Hopper," said the +elder gentleman. "We only have plain and simple things, but they are +wholesome, sir. Dainties are poor things to work on. I told that to his +Royal Highness when he was here last fall. He was speaking to me on the +merits of roast beef--" + +"It's a fine day," said Mr. Hopper. + +"So it is," Mr. Cluyme assented. Letting his gaze wander over the camp, +he added casually, "I see that they have got a few mortars and howitzers +since yesterday. I suppose that is the stuff we heard so much about, +which came on the 'Swon' marked 'marble.' They say Jeff Davis sent the +stuff to 'em from the Government arsenal the Secesh captured at Baton +Rouge. They're pretty near ready to move on our arsenal now." + +Mr. Hopper listened with composure. He was not greatly interested in +this matter which had stirred the city to the quick. Neither had Mr. +Cluyme spoken as one who was deeply moved. Just then, as if to spare the +pains of a reply, a "Jenny Lind" passed them. Miss Belle recognized the +carriage immediately as belonging to an elderly lady who was well known +in St. Louis. Every day she drove out, dressed in black bombazine, and +heavily veiled. But she was blind. As the mother-in-law of the stalwart +Union leader of the city, Miss Belle's comment about her appearance in +Camp Jackson was not out of place. + +"Well!" she exclaimed, "I'd like to know what she's doing here!" + +Mr. Hopper's answer revealed a keenness which, in the course of a few +days, engendered in Mr. Cluyme as lusty a respect as he was capable of. + +"I don't know," said Eliphalet; "but I cal'late she's got stouter." + +"What do you mean by that?" Miss Belle demanded. + +"That Union principles must be healthy," said he, and laughed. + +Miss Cluyme was prevented from following up this enigma. The appearance +of two people on Davis Avenue drove the veiled lady from her mind. +Eliphalet, too, had seen them. One was the tall young Captain of +Dragoons, in cavalry boots, and the other a young lady with dark brown +hair, in a lawn dress. + +"Just look at them!" cried Miss Belle. "They think they are alone in the +garden of Eden. Virginia didn't use to care for him. But since he's a +captain, and has got a uniform, she's come round pretty quick. I'm +thankful I never had any silly notions about uniforms." + +She glanced at Eliphalet, to find that his eyes were fixed on the +approaching couple. + +"Clarence is handsome, but worthless," she continued in her sprightly +way. "I believe Jinny will be fool enough to marry him. Do you think +she's so very pretty, Mr. Hopper?" + +Mr. Hopper lied. + +"Neither do I," Miss Belle assented. And upon that, greatly +to the astonishment of Eliphalet, she left him and ran towards them. +"Virginia!" she cried; "Jinny, I have something so interesting to tell +you!" + +Virginia turned impatiently. The look she bestowed upon Miss Cluyme was +not one of welcome, but Belle was not sensitive. Putting her arm through +Virginia's, she sauntered off with the pair toward the parade grounds, +Clarence maintaining now a distance of three feet, and not caring to hide +his annoyance. + +Eliphalet's eyes smouldered, following the three until they were lost in +the crowd. That expression of Virginia's had reminded him of a time, +years gone, when she had come into the store on her return from Kentucky, +and had ordered him to tell her father of her arrival. He had smarted +then. And Eliphalet was not the sort to get over smarts. + +"A beautiful young lady," remarked Mr. Cluyme. "And a deserving one, +Mr. Hopper. Now, she is my notion of quality. She has wealth, and +manners, and looks. And her father is a good man. Too bad he holds such +views on secession. I have always thought, sir, that you were singularly +fortunate in your connection with him." + +There was a point of light now in each of Mr. Hopper's green eyes. But +Mr. Cluyme continued: + +"What a pity, I say, that he should run the risk of crippling himself by +his opinions. Times are getting hard." + +"Yes," said Mr. Hopper. + +"And southwestern notes are not worth the paper they are written on--" + +But Mr. Cluyme has misjudged his man. If he had come to Eliphalet for +information of Colonel Carvel's affairs, or of any one else's affairs, +he was not likely to get it. It is not meet to repeat here the long +business conversation which followed. Suffice it to say that Mr. Cluyme, +who was in dry goods himself, was as ignorant when he left Eliphalet as +when he met him. But he had a greater respect than ever for the +shrewdness of the business manager of Carvel & Company. + + ......................... + +That same Thursday, when the first families of the city were whispering +jubilantly in each other's ears of the safe arrival of the artillery and +stands of arms at Camp Jackson, something of significance was happening +within the green inclosure of the walls of the United States arsenal, far +to the southward. + +The days had become alike in sadness to Stephen. Richter gone, and the +Judge often away in mysterious conference, he was left for hours at a +spell the sole tenant of the office. Fortunately there was work of +Richter's and of Mr. Whipple's left undone that kept him busy. This +Thursday morning, however, he found the Judge getting into that best +black coat which he wore on occasions. His manner had recently lost much +of its gruffness. + +"Stephen," said he, "they are serving out cartridges and uniforms to the +regiments at the arsenal. Would you like to go down with me?" + +"Does that mean Camp Jackson?" asked Stephen, when they had reached the +street. + +"Captain Lyon is not the man to sit still and let the Governor take the +first trick, sir," said the Judge. + +As they got on the Fifth Street car, Stephen's attention was at once +attracted to a gentleman who sat in a corner, with his children about +him. He was lean, and he had a face of great keenness and animation. He +had no sooner spied Judge Whipple than he beckoned to him with a kind of +military abruptness. + +"That is Major William T. Sherman," said the Judge to Stephen. "He used +to be in the army, and fought in the Mexican War. He came here two +months ago to be the President of this Fifth Street car line." + +They crossed over to him, the Judge introducing Stephen to Major Sherman, +who looked at him very hard, and then decided to bestow on him a vigorous +nod. + +"Well, Whipple," he said, "this nation is going to the devil; eh?" + +Stephen could not resist a smile. For it was a bold man who expressed +radical opinions (provided they were not Southern opinions) in a St. +Louis street car early in '61. + +The Judge shook his head. "We may pull out," he said. + +"Pull out!" exclaimed Mr. Sherman. "Who's man enough in Washington to +shake his fist in a rebel's face? Our leniency--our timidity--has +paralyzed us, sir." + +By this time those in the car began to manifest considerable interest in +the conversation. Major Sherman paid them no attention, and the Judge, +once launched in an argument, forgot his surroundings. + +"I have faith in Mr. Lincoln. He is calling out volunteers." + +"Seventy-five thousand for three months!" said the Major, vehemently, "a +bucketful on a conflagration I tell you, Whipple, we'll need all the +water we've got in the North." + +The Judge expressed his belief in this, and also that Mr. Lincoln would +draw all the water before he got through. + + + +"Upon my soul," said Mr. Sherman, "I'm disgusted. Now's the time to stop +'em. The longer we let 'em rear and kick, the harder to break 'em. You +don't catch me going back to the army for three months. If they want me, +they've got to guarantee me three years. That's more like it." Turning +to Stephen, he added: "Don't you sign any three months' contract, young +man." + +Stephen grew red. By this time the car was full, and silent. No one had +offered to quarrel with the Major. Nor did it seem likely that any one +would. + +"I'm afraid I can't go, sir." + +"Why not?" demanded Mr. Sherman. + +"Because, sir," said the Judge, bluntly, "his mother's a widow, and they +have no money. He was a lieutenant in one of Blair's companies before +the call came." + +The Major looked at Stephen, and his expression changed. + +"Find it pretty hard?" he asked. + +Stephen's expression must have satisfied him, but be nodded again, more +vigorously than before. + +"Just you WAIT, Mr. Brice," he said. "It won't hurt you any." + +Stephen was grateful. But he hoped to fall out of the talk. Much to his +discomfiture, the Major gave him another of those queer looks. His whole +manner, and even his appearance, reminded Stephen strangely of Captain +Elijah Brent. + +"Aren't you the young man who made the Union speech in Mercantile Library +Hall?" + +"Yes, sir," said the Judge. "He is." + +At that the Major put out his hand impulsively, and gripped Stephen's. + +"Well, sir," he said, "I have yet to read a more sensible speech, except +some of Abraham Lincoln's. Brinsmade gave it to me to read. Whipple, +that speech reminded me of Lincoln. It was his style. Where did you get +it, Mr. Brice?" he demanded. + +"I heard Mr. Lincoln's debate with Judge Douglas at 'Freeport," said +Stephen; beginning to be amused. + +The Major laughed. + +"I admire your frankness, sir," he said. "I meant to say that its logic +rather than its substance reminded one of Lincoln." + +"I tried to learn what I could from him, Major Sherman." + +At length the car stopped, and they passed into the Arsenal grounds. +Drawn up in lines on the green grass were four regiments, all at last in +the blue of their country's service. Old soldiers with baskets of +cartridges were stepping from file to file, giving handfuls to the +recruits. Many of these thrust them in their pockets, for there were not +enough belts to go around. The men were standing at ease, and as Stephen +saw them laughing and joking lightheartedly his depression returned. It +was driven away again by Major Sherman's vivacious comments. For +suddenly Captain Lyon, the man of the hour, came into view. + +"Look at him!" cried the Major, "he's a man after my own heart. Just +look at him running about with his hair flying in the wind, and the +papers bulging from his pockets. Not dignified, eh, Whipple? But this +isn't the time to be dignified. If there were some like Lyon in +Washington, our troops would be halfway to New Orleans by this time. +Don't talk to me of Washington! Just look at him!" + +The gallant Captain was a sight, indeed, and vividly described by Major +Sherman's picturesque words as he raced from regiment to regiment, +and from company to company, with his sandy hair awry, pointing, +gesticulating, commanding. In him Stephen recognized the force that had +swept aside stubborn army veterans of wavering faith, that snapped the +tape with which they had tied him. + +Would he be duped by the Governor's ruse of establishing a State Camp at +this time? Stephen, as he gazed at him, was sure that he would not. +This man could see to the bottom, through every specious argument. +Little matters of law and precedence did not trouble him. Nor did he +believe elderly men in authority when they told gravely that the state +troops were there for peace. + +After the ranks were broken, Major Sherman and the Judge went to talk to +Captain Lyon and the Union Leader, who was now a Colonel of one of the +Volunteer regiments. Stephen sought Richter, who told him that the +regiments were to assemble the morning of the morrow, prepared to march. + +"To Camp Jackson?" asked Stephen. + +Richter shrugged his shoulders. + +"We are not consulted, my friend," he said. "Will you come into my +quarters and have a bottle of beer with Tiefel?" + +Stephen went. It was not their fault that his sense at their comradeship +was gone. To him it was as if the ties that had bound him to them were +asunder, and he was become an outcast. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE STONE THAT IS REJECTED + +That Friday morning Stephen awoke betimes with a sense that something was +to happen. For a few moments he lay still in the half comprehension +which comes after sleep when suddenly he remembered yesterday's incidents +at the Arsenal, and leaped out of bed. + +"I think that Lyon is going to attack Camp Jackson to-day," he said to +his mother after breakfast, when Hester had left the room. + +Mrs. Brice dropped her knitting in her lap. + +"Why, Stephen?" + +"I went down to the Arsenal with the Judge yesterday and saw them +finishing the equipment of the new regiments. Something was in the wind. +Any one could see that from the way Lyon was flying about. I think he +must have proof that the Camp Jackson people have received supplies from +the South." + +Mrs. Brice looked fixedly at her son, and then smiled in spite of the +apprehension she felt. + +"Is that why you were working over that map of the city last night?" she +asked. + +"I was trying to see how Lyon would dispose his troops. I meant to tell +you about a gentleman we met in the street car, a Major Sherman who used +to be in the army. Mr. Brinsmade knows him, and Judge Whipple, and many +other prominent men here. He came to St. Louis some months ago to take +the position of president of the Fifth Street Line. He is the keenest, +the most original man I have ever met. As long as I live I shall never +forget his description of Lyon." + +"Is the Major going back into the army?" said Mrs. Brice, Stephen did +not remark the little falter in her voice. He laughed over the +recollection of the conversation in the street car. + +"Not unless matters in Washington change to suit him, he said. "He thinks +that things have been very badly managed, and does not scruple to say so +anywhere. I could not have believed it possible that two men could have +talked in public as he and Judge Whipple did yesterday and not be shot +down. I thought that it was as much as a man's life is worth to mention +allegiance to the Union here in a crowd. And the way Mr. Sherman pitched +into the Rebels in that car full of people was enough to make your hair +stand on end." + +"He must be a bold man," murmured Mrs. Brice. + +"Does he think that the--the Rebellion can be put down?" + +"Not with seventy-five thousand men, nor with ten times that number." + +Mrs. Brice sighed, and furtively wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. + +"I am afraid we shall see great misery, Stephen," she said. + +He was silent. From that peaceful little room war and its horrors seemed +very far away. The morning sun poured in through the south windows and +was scattered by the silver on the sideboard. From above, on the wall, +Colonel Wilton Brice gazed soberly down. Stephen's eyes lighted on the +portrait, and his thoughts flew back to the boyhood days when he used to +ply his father with questions about it. Then the picture had suggested +only the glory and honor which illumines the page of history. Something +worthy to look back upon, to keep ones head high. The hatred and the +suffering and the tears, the heartrending, tearing apart for all time of +loving ones who have grown together,--these were not upon that canvas, +Will war ever be painted with a wart? + +The sound of feet was heard on the pavement. Stephen rose, glancing at +his mother. Her face was still upon her knitting. + +"I am going to the Arsenal," he said. "I must see what as happening." + +To her, as has been said, was given wisdom beyond most women. She did +not try to prevent him as he kissed her good-by. But when the door had +shut behind him, a little cry escaped her, and she ran to the window to +strain her eyes after him until he had turned the corner below. + +His steps led him irresistibly past the house of the strange flag, +ominously quiet at that early hour. At sight of it anger made him hot +again. The car for South St. Louis stood at the end of the line, fast +filling with curious people who had read in their papers that morning of +the equipment of the new troops. There was little talk among them, and +that little guarded. + +It was a May morning to rouse a sluggard; the night air tingled into life +at the touch of the sunshine, the trees in the flitting glory of their +first green. Stephen found the shaded street in front of the Arsenal +already filled with an expectant crowd. Sharp commands broke the +silence, and he saw the blue regiments forming on the lawn inside the +wall. Truly, events were in the air,--great events in which he had no +part. + +As he stood leaning against a tree-box by the curb, dragged down once +more by that dreaded feeling of detachment, he heard familiar voices +close beside him. Leaning forward, he saw Eliphalet Hopper and Mr. +Cluyme. It was Mr. Cluyme who was speaking. + +"Well, Mr. Hopper," he said, "in spite of what you say, I expect you are +dust as eager as I am to see what is going on. You've taken an early +start this morning for sightseeing." + +Eliphalet's equanimity was far from shaken. + +"I don't cal'late to take a great deal of stock in the military," he +answered. "But business is business. And a man must keep an eye on what +is moving." + +Mr. Cluyme ran his hand through his chop whiskers, and lowered his voice. + +"You're right, Hopper," he assented. "And if this city is going to be +Union, we ought to know it right away." + +Stephen, listening with growing indignation to this talk, was unaware of +a man who stood on the other side of the tree, and who now came forward +before Mr. Hopper. He presented a somewhat uncompromising front. Mr. +Cluyme instantly melted away. + +"My friend," said the stranger, quietly, "I think we have met before, +when your actions were not greatly to your credit. I do not forget a +face, even when I see it in the dark. Now I hear you utter words which +are a disgrace to a citizen of the United States. I have some respect +for a rebel. I have none for you, sir." + +As soon as Stephen recovered from the shock of his surprise, he saw that +Eliphalet had changed countenance. The manner of an important man of +affairs, which he hay so assiduously cultivated, fell away from him. He +took a step backward, and his eyes made an ugly shift. Stephen rejoiced +to see the stranger turn his back on the manager of Carvel & Company +before that dignitary had time to depart, and stand unconcernedly there +as if nothing had occurred. + +Then Stephen stared at him. + +He was not a man you would look at twice, ordinarily, he was smoking a +great El Sol cigar. He wore clothes that were anything but new, a slouch +hat, and coarse grained, square-toed boots. His trousers were creased at +the knees. His head fell forward a little from his square shoulders, and +leaned a bit to one side, as if meditatively. He had a light brown beard +that was reddish in the sun, and he was rather short than otherwise. + +This was all that Stephen saw. And yet the very plainness of the man's +appearance only added to his curiosity. Who was this stranger? His +words, his action, too, had been remarkable. The art of administering +a rebuke like that was not given to many men. It was perfectly quiet, +perfectly final. And then, when it was over, he had turned his back and +dismissed it. + +Next Stephen began to wonder what he could know about Hopper. Stephen +had suspected Eliphalet of subordinating principles to business gain, and +hence the conversation with Mr. Cluyme had given him no shock in the way +of a revelation, But if Hopper were a rogue, ought not Colonel Carvel to +hear it? Ought not he, Stephen Brice, to ask this man with the cigar +what he knew, and tell Judge Whipple? The sudden rattle of drums gave +him a start, and cruelly reminded him of the gulf of prejudice and hatred +fast widening between the friends. + +All this time the stranger stood impassively chewing his cigar, his hand +against the tree-box. A regiment in column came out of the Arsenal gate, +the Union leader in his colonel's uniform, on horseback at its head. He +pulled up in the street opposite to Stephen, and sat in his saddle, +chatting with other officers around him. + +Then the stranger stepped across the limestone gutter and walked up to +the Colonel's horse, He was still smoking. This move, too, was +surprising enough, It argued even more assurance. Stephen listened +intently. + +"Colonel Blair, my name is Grant," he said briefly. + +The Colonel faced quickly about, and held out his gloved hand cordially, +"Captain Ulysses Grant," said he; "of the old army?" + +Mr. Grant nodded. + +"I wanted to wish you luck," he said. + +"Thank you, Grant," answered the Colonel. "But you? Where are you +living now?" + +"I moved to Illinois after I left here," replied Mr. Grant, as quietly as +before, "and have been in Galena, in the Leather business there. I went +down to Springfield with the company they organized in Galena, to be of +any help I could. They made me a clerk in the adjutant general's office +of the state I ruled blanks, and made out forms for a while." He paused, +as if to let the humble character of this position sink into the +Colonel's comprehension. "Then they found out that I'd been +quartermaster and commissary, and knew something about military orders +Now I'm a state mustering officer. I came down to Belleville to muster +in a regiment, which wasn't ready. And so I ran over here to see what +you fellows were doing." + +If this humble account had been delivered volubly, and in another tone, +it is probable that the citizen-colonel would not have listened, since +the events of that day were to crown his work of a winter. But Mr. Grant +possessed a manner of holding attention.. It was very evident, however; +that Colonel Blair had other things to think of. Nevertheless he said +kindly: + +"Aren't you going in, Grant?" + +"I can't afford to go in as a captain of volunteers," was the calm reply: +"I served nine years in the regular army and I think I can command a +regiment." + +The Colonel, whose attention was called away at that moment, did not +reply. Mr. Grant moved off up the street. Some of the younger officers +who were there, laughed as they followed his retreating figure. + +"Command a regiment!" cried one, a lieutenant whom Stephen recognized as +having been a bookkeeper at Edwards, James, & Doddington's, and whose +stiff blue uniform coat creased awkwardly. "I guess I'm about as fit to +command a regiment as Grant is." + +"That man's forty years old, if he's a day, put in another. "I remember +when he came here to St. Louis in '54, played out. He'd resigned from +the army on the Pacific Coast. He put up a log cabin down en the Gravois +Road, and there he lived in the hardest luck of any man I ever saw until +last year. You remember him, Joe." + +"Yep," said Joe. "I spotted him by the El Sol cigar. He used to bring a +load of wood to the city once in a while, and then he'd go over to the +Planters' House, or somewhere else, and smoke one of these long fellows, +and sit against the wall as silent as a wooden Indian. After that he +came up to the city without his family and went into real estate one +winter. But he didn't make it go. Curious, it is just a year ago this +month than he went over to Illinois. He's an honest fellow, and hard +working enough, but he don't know how. He's just a dead failure." + +"Command a regiment!" laughed the first, again, as of this in particular +had struck his sense of humor. "I guess he won't get a regiment in a +hurry, There's lots of those military carpet-baggers hanging around for +good jobs now." + +"He might fool you fellows yet," said the one caller, though his tone was +not one of conviction. "I understand he had a first-rate record an the +Mexican War." + +Just then an aide rode up, and the Colonel gave a sharp command which put +an end to this desultory talk. As the First Regiment took up the march, +the words "Camp Jackson" ran from mouth to mouth on the sidewalks. +Catching fire, Stephen ran with the crowd, and leaping on passing street +car, was borne cityward with the drums of the coming hosts beating in his +ears. + +In the city, shutters were going up on the stores. The streets were +filled with, restless citizens seeking news, and drays were halted here +and there on the corners, the white eyes and frenzied calls of the negro +drivers betraying their excitement. While Stephen related to his mother +the events of the morning, Hester burned the dinner. It lay; still +untouched, on the table when the throbbing of drums sent them to the +front steps. Sigel's regiment had swung into the street, drawing in its +wake a seething crowd. + +Three persons came out of the big house next door. One was Anna +Brinsmade; and there was her father, his white hairs uncovered. The +third was Jack. His sister was cringing to him appealingly, and he +struggling in her grasp. Out of his coat pocket hung the curved butt of +a pepperbox revolver. + +"Let me go, Anne!" he cried. "Do you think I can stay here while my +people are shot down by a lot of damned Dutchman?" + +"John," said Mr. Brinsmade, sternly, "I cannot let you join a mob. +I cannot let you shoot at men who carry the Union flag." + +"You cannot prevent me, sir," shouted the young man, in a frenzy. "When +foreigners take our flag for them own, it is time for us to shoot them +down." + +Wrenching himself free, he ran down the steps and up the street ahead of +the regiment. Then the soldiers and the noisy crowd were upon them and +while these were passing the two stood there as in a dream. After that +silence fell upon the street, and Mr. Brinsmade turned and went back into +the house, his head bowed as in prayer. Stephen and his mother drew +back, but Anne saw them. + +"He is a rebel," she faltered. "It will break my father's heart." + +She looked at Stephen appealingly, unashamed of the tears in her eyes. +Then she, too went in. + +"I cannot stay here mother," he said. + +As he slammed the gate, Anne ran down the steps calling his name. He +paused, and she caught his sleeve. + +"I knew you would go," she said, "I knew you would go. Oh, Stephen, you +have a cool head. Try to keep Jack--out of mischief." + +He left her standing on the pavement. But when he reached the corner and +looked back he saw that she had gone in at his own little gate to meet +his mother. Then he walked rapidly westward. Now and again he was +stopped by feverish questions, but at length he reached the top of the +second ridge from the river, along which crowded Eighteenth Street now +runs. There stood the new double mansion Mr. Spencer Catherwood had +built two years before on the outskirts of the town, with the wall at the +side, and the brick stable and stable yard. As Stephen approached it, +the thought came to him how little this world's goods avail in times of +trouble. One of the big Catherwood boys was in the blue marching +regiment that day, and had been told by his father never again to darken +his doors. Another was in Clarence Colfax's company of dragoons, and +still another had fled southward the night after Sumter. + +Stephen stopped at the crest of the hill, in the white dust of the new- +turned street, to gaze westward. Clouds were gathering in the sky, but +the sun still shone brightly, Half way up the rise two blue lines had +crawled, followed by black splotches, and at the southwest was the glint +of the sun on rifle barrels. Directed by a genius in the art of war, the +regiments were closing about Camp Jackson. + +As he stood there meditating and paying no attention to those who hurried +past, a few familiar notes were struck on a piano. They came through the +wide-shuttered window above his head. Then a girl's voice rose above the +notes, in tones that were exultant:-- + + "Away down South in de fields of cotton, + Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom, + Look away, look away, Look away, look away. + Den I wish I was in Dixie's Land, + Oh, oh! oh, oh! + In Dixie's Land I'll take my stand, + And live and die in Dixie's Land. + Away, away, away. + Away down South in Dixie." + +The song ceased amid peals of girlish laughter. Stephen was rooted to +the spot. + +"Jinny! Jinny Carvel, how dare you!" came through the shutters. +"We shall have a whole regiment of Hessians in here." + +Old Uncle Ben, the Catherwoods' coachman, came out of the stable yard. +The whites of his eyes were rolling, half in amusement, half in terror. +Seeing Stephen standing there, he exclaimed: + +"Mistah Brice, if de Dutch take Camp Jackson, is we niggers gwinter be +free?" + +Stephen did not answer, for the piano had started again, + + "If ever I consent to be married, + And who could refuse a good mate? + The man whom I give my hand to, + Must believe in the Rights of the State." + +More laughter. Then the blinds were flung aside, and a young lady in a +dress of white trimmed with crimson stood in the window, smiling. +Suddenly she perceived Stephen in the road. Her smile faded. For an +instant she stared at him, and then turned to the girls crowding behind +her. What she said, he did not wait to hear. He was striding down the +hill. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE TENTH OF MAC + +Would the sons of the first families surrender, "Never!" cried a young +lady who sat behind the blinds in Mrs. Catherwood's parlor. It seemed to +her when she stopped to listen for the first guns of the coming battle +that the tumult in her heart would drown their roar. + +"But, Jinny," ventured that Miss Puss Russell who never feared to speak +her mind, "it would be folly for them to fight. The Dutch and Yankees +outnumber them ten to one, and they haven't any powder and bullets." + +And Camp Jackson is down in a hollow," said Maude Catherwood, dejectedly. +And yet hopefully, too, for at the thought of bloodshed she was near to +fainting. + +"Oh," exclaimed Virginia, passionately, "I believe you want them to +surrender. I should rather see Clarence dead than giving his sword to a +Yankee." + +At that the other two were silent again, and sat on through an endless +afternoon of uncertainty and hope and dread in the darkened room. Now +and anon Mr. Catherwood's heavy step was heard as he paced the hall. +From time to time they glanced at Virginia, as if to fathom her thought. +She and Puss Russell had come that day to dine with Maude. Mr. +Catherwood's Ben, reeking of the stable, had brought the rumor of the +marching on the camp into the dining-room, and close upon the heels of +this the rumble of the drums and the passing of Sigel's regiment. It was +Virginia who had the presence of mind to slam the blinds in the faces of +the troops, and the crowd had cheered her. It was Virginia who flew to +the piano to play Dixie ere they could get by, to the awe and admiration +of the girls and the delight of Mr. Catherwood who applauded her spirit +despite the trouble which weighed upon him. Once more the crowd had +cheered,--and hesitated. But the Dutch regiment slouched on, impassive, +and the people followed. + +Virginia remained at the piano, her mood exalted patriotism, uplifted in +spirit by that grand song. At first she had played it with all her +might. Then she sang it. She laughed in very scorn of the booby +soldiers she had seen. A million of these, with all the firearms in the +world, could not prevail against the flower of the South. Then she had +begun whimsically to sing a verse of a song she had heard the week +before, and suddenly her exaltation was fled, and her fingers left the +keys. Gaining the window, trembling, half-expectant, she flung open a +blind. The troops, the people, were gone, and there alone in the road +stood--Stephen Brice. The others close behind her saw him, too, and Puss +cried out in her surprise. The impression, when the room was dark once +more, was of sternness and sadness,--and of strength. Effaced was the +picture of the plodding recruits with their coarse and ill-fitting +uniforms of blue. + +Virginia shut the blinds. Not a word escaped her, nor could they tell +why--they did not dare to question her then. An hour passed, perhaps +two, before the shrill voice of a boy was heard in the street below. + +"Camp Jackson has surrendered!" + +They heard the patter of his bare feet on the pavement, and the cry +repeated. + +"Camp Jackson has surrendered!" + +And so the war began for Virginia. Bitter before, now was she on fire. +Close her lips as tightly as she might, the tears forced themselves to +her eyes. The ignominy of it! + +How hard it is for us of this age to understand that feeling. + +"I do not believe it!" she cried. "I cannot believe it!" + +The girls gathered around her, pale and frightened and anxious. Suddenly +courage returned to her, the courage which made Spartans of Southern +women. She ran to the front door. Mr. Catherwood was on the sidewalk, +talking to a breathless man. That man was Mr. Barbo, Colonel Carvel's +book-keeper. + +"Yes," he was saying, "they--they surrendered. There was nothing else +for them to do. They were surrounded and overpowered." + +Mr. Catherwood uttered an oath. But it did not shock Virginia. + +"And not a shot fired?" he said. + +"And not a shot fired?" Virginia repeated, mechanically. Both men +turned. Mr. Barbo took off his hat. + +"No, ma'am." + +"Oh, how could they!" exclaimed Virginia. + +Her words seemed to arouse Mr. Catherwood from a kind of stupor. He +turned, and took her hand. + +"Virginia, we shall make them smart for this yet, My God!" he cried, +"what have I done that my son should be a traitor, in arms against his +own brother fighting for his people? To think that a Catherwood should +be with the Yankees! You, Ben," he shouted, suddenly perceiving an +object for his anger. "What do you mean by coming out of the yard? By +G-d, I'll have you whipped. I'll show you niggers whether you're to be +free or not." + +And Mr. Catherwood was a good man, who treated his servants well. +Suddenly he dropped Virginia's hand and ran westward down the hill. +Well that she could not see beyond the second rise. + +Let us go there--to the camp. Let us stand on the little mound at the +northeast of it, on the Olive Street Road, whence Captain Lyon's +artillery commands it. What a change from yesterday! Davis Avenue is +no longer a fashionable promenade, flashing with bright dresses. Those +quiet men in blue, who are standing beside the arms of the state troops, +stacked and surrendered, are United States regulars. They have been in +Kansas, and are used to scenes of this sort. + +The five Hessian regiments have surrounded the camp. Each commander has +obeyed the master mind of his chief, who has calculated the time of +marching with precision. Here, at the western gate, Colonel Blair's +regiment is in open order. See the prisoners taking their places between +the ranks, some smiling, as if to say all is not over yet; some with +heads hung down, in sulky shame. Still others, who are true to the +Union, openly relieved. But who is this officer breaking his sword to +bits against the fence, rather than surrender it to a Yankee? Listen to +the crowd as they cheer him. Listen to the epithets and vile names which +they hurl at the stolid blue line of the victors, "Mudsills!" "Negro +Worshippers." + +Yes, the crowd is there, seething with conflicting passions. Men with +brows bent and fists clenched, yelling excitedly. Others pushing, and +eager to see,--there in curiosity only. And, alas, women and children by +the score, as if what they looked upon were not war, but a parade, a +spectacle. As the gray uniforms file out of the gate, the crowd has +become a mob, now flowing back into the fields on each side of the road, +now pressing forward vindictively until stopped by the sergeants and +corporals. Listen to them calling to sons, and brothers, and husbands +in gray! See, there is a woman who spits in a soldier's face! + +Throughout it all, the officers sit their horses, unmoved. A man on the +bank above draws a pistol and aims at a captain. A German private steps +from the ranks, forgetful of discipline, and points at the man, who is +cursing the captain's name. The captain, imperturbable, orders his man +back to his place. And the man does not shoot--yet. + +Now are the prisoners of that regiment all in place between the two files +of it. A band (one of those which played lightsome music on the birthday +of the camp) is marched around to the head of the column. The regiment +with its freight moves on to make place for a battalion of regulars, amid +imprecations and cries of "Hurrah for Jeff Davis!" and "Damn the Dutch! +Kill the Hessians!" + +Stephen Brice stood among the people in Lindell's Grove, looking up at +the troops on the road, which was on an embankment. Through the rows of +faces he had searched in vain for one. His motive he did not attempt to +fathom--in truth, he was not conscious at the time of any motive. He +heard the name shouted at the gate. + +"Here they are,--the dragoons! Three cheers for Colfax! Down with the +Yankees!" + +A storm of cheers and hisses followed. Dismounted, at the head of his +small following, the young Captain walked erect. He did not seem to hear +the cheers. His face was set, and he held his gloved hand over the place +where his sword had been, as if over a wound. On his features, in his +attitude, was stamped the undying determination of the South. How those +thoroughbreds of the Cavaliers showed it! Pain they took lightly. The +fire of humiliation burned, but could not destroy their indomitable +spirit. They were the first of their people in the field, and the last +to leave it. Historians may say that the classes of the South caused the +war; they cannot say that they did not take upon themselves the greatest +burden of the suffering. + +Twice that day was the future revealed to Stephen. Once as he stood on +the hill-crest, when he had seen a girl in crimson and white in a window, +--in her face. And now again he read it in the face of her cousin. It +was as if he had seen unrolled the years of suffering that were to come. + +In that moment of deep bitterness his reason wavered. What if the South +should win? Surely there was no such feeling in the North as these +people betrayed. That most dangerous of gifts, the seeing of two sides +of a quarrel, had been given him. He saw the Southern view. He +sympathized with the Southern people. They had befriended him in his +poverty. Why had he not been born, like Clarence Colfax, the owner of a +large plantation, the believer in the divine right of his race to rule? + +Then this girl who haunted his thoughts! Would that his path had been as +straight, his duty as easy, as that of the handsome young Captain. + +Presently these thoughts were distracted by the sight of a back strangely +familiar. The back belonged to a, gentleman who was energetically +climbing the embankment in front of him, on the top of which Major +Sexton, a regular, army officer, sat his horse. The gentleman was +pulling a small boy after him by one hand, and held a newspaper tightly +rolled in the other. Stephen smiled to himself when it came over him +that this gentleman was none other than that Mr. William T. Sherman he +had met in the street car the day before. Somehow Stephen was fascinated +by the decision and energy of Mr. Sherman's slightest movements. He gave +Major Saxton a salute, quick and genial. Then, almost with one motion +he unrolled the newspaper, pointed to a paragraph, and handed it to the +officer. Major Saxton was still reading when a drunken ruffian clambered +up the bank behind them and attempted to pass through the lines. The +column began to move forward. Mr. Sherman slid down the bank with his +boy into the grove beside Stephen. Suddenly there was a struggle. A +corporal pitched the drunkard backwards over the bank, and he rolled at +Mr. Sherman's feet. With a curse, he picked himself up, fumbling in his +pocket. There was a flash, and as the smoke rolled from before his eyes, +Stephen saw a man of a German regiment stagger and fall. + +It was the signal for a rattle of shots. Stones and bricks filled the +air, and were heard striking steel and flesh in the ranks. The regiment +quivered,--then halted at the loud command of the officers, and the ranks +faced out with level guns, Stephen reached for Mr. Sherman's boy, but a +gentleman had already thrown him and was covering his body. He contrived +to throw down a woman standing beside him before the mini-balls swished +over their heads, and the leaves and branches began to fall. Between the +popping of the shots sounded the shrieks of wounded women and children, +the groans and curses of men, and the stampeding of hundreds. + +"Lie down, Brice! For God's sake lie down!" Mr. Sherman cried. + +He was about to obey when a young; man, small and agile, ran past him +from behind, heedless of the panic. Stopping at the foot of the bank he +dropped on one knee, resting his revolver in the hollow of his left arm. +It, was Jack Brinsmade. At the same time two of the soldiers above +lowered their barrels to cover him. Then smoke hid the scene. When it +rolled away, Brinsmade lay on the ground. He staggered to his feet with +an oath, and confronted a young man who was hatless, and upon whose +forehead was burned a black powder mark. + +"Curse you!" he cried, reaching out wildly, "curse you, you d--d Yankee. +I'll teach you to fight!" + +Maddened, he made a rush at Stephen's throat. But Stephen seized his +hands and bent them down, and held them firmly while he kicked and +struggled. + +"Curse you!" he panted; "curse you, you let me go and I'll kill you,--you +Yankee upstart!" + +But Stephen held on. Brinsmade became more and more frantic. One of the +officers, seeing the struggle, started down the bank, was reviled, and +hesitated. At that moment Major Sherman came between them. + +"Let him go, Brice," he said, in a tone of command. Stephen did as he +was bid. Whereupon Brinsmade made a dash for his pistol on the ground. +Mr. Sherman was before him. + +"Now see here, Jack," he said, picking it up, "I don't want to shoot you, +but I may have to. That young man saved your life at the risk of his +own. If that fool Dutchman had had a ball in his gun instead of a wad, +Mr. Brice would have been killed." + +A strange thing happened. Brinsmade took one long look at Stephen, +turned on his heel, and walked off rapidly through the grove. And it may +be added that for some years after he was not seen in St. Louis. + +For a moment the other two stood staring after him. Then Mr. Sherman +took his boy by the hand. + +"Mr. Brice," he said, "I've seen a few things done in my life, but +nothing better than this. Perhaps the day may come when you and I may +meet in the army. They don't seem to think much of us now," he added, +smiling, "but we may be of use to 'em later. If ever I can serve you, +Mr. Brice, I beg you to call on me." + +Stephen stammered his acknowledgments. And Mr. Sherman, nodding his head +vigorously, went away southward through the grove, toward Market Street. + +The column was moving on. The dead were being laid in carriages, and the +wounded tended by such physicians as chanced to be on the spot. Stephen, +dazed at what had happened, took up the march to town. He strode faster +than the regiments with their load of prisoners, and presently he found +himself abreast the little file of dragoons who were guarded by some of +Blair's men. It was then that he discovered that the prisoners' band in +front was playing "Dixie." + +They are climbing the second hill, and are coming now to the fringe of +new residences which the rich citizens have built. Some of them are +closed and dark. In the windows and on the steps of others women are +crying or waving handkerchiefs and calling out to the prisoners, some of +whom are gay, and others sullen. A distracted father tries to break +through the ranks and rescue his son. Ah, here is the Catherwood house. +That is open. Mrs. Catherwood, with her hand on her husband's arm, with +red eyes, is scanning those faces for the sight of George. + +Will he ever come back to her? Will the Yankees murder him for treason, +or send him North to languish the rest of his life? No, she will not go +inside. She must see him. She will not faint, though Mrs. James has, +across the street, and is even now being carried into the house. Few of +us can see into the hearts of those women that day, and speak of the +suffering there. + +Near the head of Mr. Blair's regiment is Tom. His face is cast down as +he passes the house from which he is banished. Nor do father, or mother, +or sister in their agony make any sound or sign. George is coming. The +welcome and the mourning and the tears are all for him. + +The band is playing "Dixie" once more. George is coming, and some one +else. The girls are standing in a knot bend the old people, dry-eyed, +their handkerchiefs in their hands. Some of the prisoners take off their +hats and smile at the young lady with the chiselled features and brown +hair, who wears the red and white of the South as if she were born to +them. Her eyes are searching. Ah, at last she sees him, walking erect +at the head of his dragoons. He gives her one look of entreaty, and that +smile which should have won her heart long ago. As if by common consent +the heads of the troopers are uncovered before her. How bravely she +waves at them until they are gone down the street! Then only do her eyes +fill with tears, and she passes into the house. + +Had she waited, she might have seen a solitary figure leaving the line of +march and striding across to Pine Street. + +That night the sluices of the heavens were opened, and the blood was +washed from the grass in Lindell Grove. The rain descended in floods on +the distracted city, and the great river rose and flung brush from +Minnesota forests high up on the stones of the levee. Down in the long +barracks weary recruits, who had stood and marched all the day long, went +supperless to their hard pallets. + +Government fare was hard. Many a boy, prisoner or volunteer, sobbed +himself to sleep in the darkness. All were prisoners alike, prisoners of +war. Sobbed themselves to sleep, to dream of the dear homes that were +here within sight and sound of them, and to which they were powerless +to go. Sisters, and mothers, and wives were there, beyond the rain, +holding out arms to them. + +Is war a thing to stir the blood? Ay, while the day lasts. But what of +the long nights when husband and wife have lain side by side? What of +the children who ask piteously where their father is going, and who are +gathered by a sobbing mother to her breast? Where is the picture of that +last breakfast at home? So in the midst of the cheer which is saddest in +life comes the thought that, just one year ago, he who is the staff of +the house was wont to sit down just so merrily to his morning meal, +before going to work in the office. Why had they not thanked God on +their knees for peace while they had it? + +See the brave little wife waiting on the porch of her home for him to go +by. The sun shines, and the grass is green on the little plot, and the +geraniums red. Last spring she was sewing here with a song on her lips, +watching for him to turn the corner as he came back to dinner. But now! +Hark! Was that the beat of the drums? Or was it thunder? Her good +neighbors, the doctor and his wife, come in at the little gate to cheer +her. She does not hear them. Why does God mock her with sunlight and +with friends? + +Tramp, tramp, tramp! They are here. Now the band is blaring. That is +his company. And that is his dear face, the second from the end. Will +she ever see it again? Look, he is smiling bravely, as if to say a +thousand tender things. "Will, are the flannels in your knapsack? You +have not forgotten that medicine for your cough?" What courage sublime +is that which lets her wave at him? Well for you, little woman, that you +cannot see the faces of the good doctor and his wife behind you. Oh, +those guns of Sumter, how they roar in your head! Ay, and will roar +again, through forty years of widowhood! + +Mrs. Brice was in the little parlor that Friday night, listening to the +cry of the rain outside. Some thoughts such as these distracted her. +Why should she be happy, and other mothers miserable? The day of +reckoning for her happiness must surely come, when she must kiss +Stephen a brave farewell and give him to his country. For the sins +of the fathers are visited on the children, unto the third and fourth +generation of them that hate Him who is the Ruler of all things. + +The bell rang, and Stephen went to the door. He was startled to see Mr. +Brinsmade. That gentleman was suddenly aged, and his clothes were wet +and spattered with mud. He sank into a chair, but refused the spirits +and water which Mrs. Brice offered him in her alarm. + +"Stephen," he said, "I have been searching the city for John. Did you +see him at Camp Jackson--was he hurt?" + +"I think not, sir," Stephen answered, with clear eyes. + +"I saw him walking southward after the firing was all over." + +"Thank God," exclaimed Mr. Brinsmade, fervently. "If you will excuse me, +madam, I shall hurry to tell my wife and daughter. I have been able to +find no one who saw him." + +As he went out he glanced at Stephen's forehead. But for once in his +life, Mr. Brinsmade was too much agitated to inquire about the pain of +another. + +"Stephen, you did not tell me that you saw John," said his mother, when +the door was closed. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +IN THE ARSENAL + +There was a dismal tea at Colonel Carvel's house in Locust Street that +evening Virginia did not touch a mouthful, and the Colonel merely made a +pretence of eating. About six o'clock Mrs. Addison Colfax had driven in +from Bellegarde, nor could it rain fast enough or hard enough to wash the +foam from her panting horses. She did not wait for Jackson to come out +with an umbrella, but rushed through the wet from the carriage to the +door in her haste to urge the Colonel to go to the Arsenal and demand +Clarence's release. It was in vain that Mr. Carvel assured her it would +do no good, in vain that he told her of a more important matter that +claimed him. Could there be a more important matter than his own nephew +kept in durance, and in danger of being murdered by Dutch butchers in the +frenzy of their victory? Mrs. Colfax shut herself up in her room, and +through the door Virginia heard her sobs as she went down to tea. + +The Colonel made no secret of his uneasiness. With his hat on his head, +and his hands in his pockets, he paced up and down the room. He let his +cigar go out,--a more serious sign still. Finally he stood with his face +to the black window, against which the big drops were beating in a fury. + +Virginia sat expressionless at the head of the table, still in that gown +of white and crimson, which she had worn in honor of the defenders of the +state. Expressionless, save for a glance of solicitation at her father's +back. If resolve were feminine, Virginia might have sat for that +portrait. There was a light in her dark blue eyes. Underneath there +were traces of the day's fatigue. When she spoke, there was little life +in her voice. + +"Aren't you going to the Planters' House, Pa The Colonel turned, and +tried to smile. + +"I reckon not to-night, Jinny. Why?" + +"To find out what they are going to do with Clarence," she said +indignantly. + +"I reckon they don't know at the Planters' House," he said. + +"Then--" began Virginia, and stopped. + +"Then what?" he asked, stroking her hair. + +"Then why not go to the Barracks? Order the carriage, and I will go with +you." + +His smile faded. He stood looking down at her fixedly, as was sometimes +his habit. Grave tenderness was in his tone. + +"Jinny," he said slowly, "Jinny, do you mean to marry Clarence?" + +The suddenness of the question took her breath. But she answered +steadily: + +"Yes." + +"Do you love him? + +"Yes," she answered. But her lashes fell. + +Still he stood, and it seemed to her that her father's gaze pierced to +her secret soul. + +"Come here, my dear," he said. + +He held out his arms, and she fluttered into them. The tears were come +at last. It was not the first time she had cried out her troubles +against that great heart which had ever been her strong refuge. From +childhood she had been comforted there. Had she broken her doll, had +Mammy Easter been cross, had lessons gone wrong at school, was she ill, +or weary with that heaviness of spirit which is woman's inevitable lot, +--this was her sanctuary. But now! This burden God Himself had sent, +and none save her Heavenly Father might cure it. Through his great love +for her it was given to Colonel Carvel to divine it--only vaguely. + +Many times he strove to speak, and could not. But presently, as if +ashamed of her tears, she drew back from him and took her old seat on the +arm of his chair. + +By the light of his intuition, the Colonel chose tins words well. What +he had to speak of was another sorrow, yet a healing one. + +"You must not think of marriage now, my dear, when the bread we eat may +fail us. Jinny, we are not as rich as we used to be. Our trade was in +the South and West, and now the South and West cannot pay. I had a +conference with Mr. Hopper yesterday, and he tells me that we must be +prepared." + +She laid her hand upon his. + +"And did you think I would care, dear?" she asked gently. "I can bear +with poverty and rags, to win this war." + +"His own eyes were dim, but pride shone in them. Jackson came in on +tiptoe, and hesitated. At the Colonel's motion he took away the china +and the silver, and removed the white cloth, and turned low the lights in +the chandelier. He went out softly, and closed the door. + +"Pa," said Virginia, presently, "do you trust Mr. Hopper?" + +The Colonel gave a start. + +"Why, yes, Jinny. He improved the business greatly before this trouble +came. And even now we are not in such straits as some other houses." + +"Captain Lige doesn't like him." + +"Lige has prejudices." + +"So have I," said Virginia. "Eliphalet Hopper will serve you so long as +he serves himself. No longer." + +"I think you do him an injustice, my dear," answered the Colonel. But +uneasiness was in his voice. "Hopper is hard working, scrupulous to a +cent. He owns two slaves now who are running the river. He keeps out of +politics, and he has none of the Yankee faults." + +"I wish he had," said Virginia. + +The Colonel made no answer to this. Getting up, he went over to the +bell-cord at the door and pulled it. Jackson came in hurriedly. + +"Is my bag packed?" + +"Yes, Marsa." + +"Where are you going?" cried Virginia, in alarm. + +"To Jefferson City, dear, to see the Governor. I got word this +afternoon." + +"In the rain?" + +He smiled, and stooped to kiss her, + +"Yes," he answered, "in the rain as far as the depot, I can trust you, +Jinny. And Lige's boat will be back from New Orleans to-morrow or +Sunday." + +The next morning the city awoke benumbed, her heart beating but feebly. +Her commerce had nearly ceased to flow. A long line of boats lay idle, +with noses to the levee. Men stood on the street corners in the rain, +reading of the capture of Camp Jackson, and of the riot, and thousands +lifted up their voices to execrate the Foreign City below Market Street. +A vague terror, maliciously born, subtly spread. The Dutch had broken up +the camp, a peaceable state institution, they had shot down innocent +women and children. What might they not do to the defenceless city under +their victorious hand, whose citizens were nobly loyal to the South? +Sack it? Yes, and burn, and loot it. Ladies who ventured out that day +crossed the street to avoid Union gentlemen of their acquaintance. + +It was early when Mammy Easter brought the news paper to her mistress. +Virginia read the news, and ran joyfully to her aunt's room. Three times +she knocked, and then she heard a cry within. Then the key was turned +and the bolt cautiously withdrawn, and a crack of six inches disclosed +her aunt. + +"Oh, how you frightened me, Jinny!" she cried. "I thought it was the +Dutch coming to murder us all, What have they done to Clarence?" + +"We shall see him to-day, Aunt Lillian," was the joyful answer. "The +newspaper says that all the Camp Jackson prisoners are to be set free +to-day, on parole. Oh, I knew they would not dare to hold them. The +whole state would have risen to their rescue." + +Mrs. Colfax did not receive these tidings with transports. She permitted +her niece to come into her room, and then: sank into a chair before the +mirror of her dressing-table, and scanned her face there. + +"I could not sleep a wink, Jinny, all night long. I look wretchedly. I +am afraid I am going to have another of my attacks. How it is raining! +What does the newspaper say?" + +"I'll get it for you," said Virginia, used to her aunt's vagaries. + +"No, no, tell me. I am much too nervous to read it." + +"It says that they will be paroled to-day, and that they passed a +comfortable night." + +"It must be a Yankee lie," said the lady. "Oh, what a night! I saw them +torturing him in a thousand ways the barbarians! I know he had to sleep +on a dirty floor with low-down trash." + +"But we shall have him here to-night, Aunt Lillian!" cried Virginia. +"Mammy, tell Uncle Ben that Mr. Clarence will be here for tea. We must +have a feast for him. Pa said that they could not hold them." + +"Where is Comyn?" inquired Mrs. Colfax. "Has he gone down to see +Clarence?" + +"He went to Jefferson City last night," replied Virginia. "The Governor +sent for him." + +Mrs. Colfax exclaimed in horror at this news. + +"Do you mean that he has deserted us?" she cried. "That he has left us +here defenceless,--at the mercy of the Dutch, that they may wreak their +vengeance upon us women? How can you sit still, Virginia? If I were +your age and able to drag myself to the street, I should be at the +Arsenal now. I should be on my knees before that detestable Captain +Lyon, even if he is a Yankee." Virginia kept her temper. + +"I do not go on my knees to any man," she said. "Rosetta, tell Ned I +wish the carriage at once." + +Her aunt seized her convulsively by the arm. + +"Where are you going, Jinny?" she demanded. "Your Pa would never forgive +me if anything happened to you." + +A smile, half pity, crossed the girl's anxious face. + +"I am afraid that I must risk adding to your misfortune, Aunt Lillian," +she said, and left the room. + +Virginia drove to Mr. Brinsmade's. His was one of the Union houses which +she might visit and not lose her self respect. Like many Southerners, +when it became a question of go or stay, Mr. Brinsmade's unfaltering love +for the Union had kept him in. He had voted for Mr. Bell, and later had +presided at Crittenden Compromise meetings. In short, as a man of peace, +he would have been willing to sacrifice much for peace. And now that it +was to be war, and he had taken his stand uncompromisingly with the +Union, the neighbors whom he had befriended for so many years could not +bring themselves to regard him as an enemy. He never hurt their +feelings; and almost as soon as the war began he set about that work +which has been done by self-denying Christians of all ages,--the relief +of suffering. He visited with comfort the widow and the fatherless, and +many a night in the hospital he sat through beside the dying, Yankee and +Rebel alike, and wrote their last letters home. + +And Yankee and Rebel alike sought his help and counsel in time of +perplexity or trouble, rather than hotheaded advice from their own +leaders. + +Mr. Brinsmade's own carriage was drawn up at his door; and that gentleman +himself standing on the threshold. He came down his steps bareheaded in +the wet to hand Virginia from her carriage. + +Courteous and kind as ever, he asked for her father and her aunt as he +led her into the house. However such men may try to hide their own +trials under a cheerful mien, they do not succeed with spirits of a +kindred nature. With the others, who are less generous, it matters not. +Virginia was not so thoughtless nor so selfish that she could not +perceive that a trouble had come to this good man. Absorbed as she was +in her own affairs, she forgot some of them in his presence. The fire +left her tongue, and to him she could not have spoken harshly even of an +enemy. Such was her state of mind, when she was led into the drawing- +room. From the corner of it Anne arose and came forward to throw her +arms around her friend. + +"Jinny, it was so good of you to come. You don't, hate me?" + +"Hate you, Anne dear!" + +"Because we are Union," said honest Anne, wishing to have no shadow of +doubt. + +Virginia was touched. "Anne," she cried, "if you were German, I believe +I should love you." + +"How good of you to come. I should not have dared go to your house, +because I know that you feel so deeply. You--you heard?" + +"Heard what?" asked Virginia, alarmed. + +"That Jack has run away--has gone South, we think. Perhaps," she cried, +"perhaps he may be dead." And tears came into the girl's eyes. + +It was then that Virginia forgot Clarence. She drew Anne to the sofa and +kissed her. + +"No, he is not dead," she said gently, but with a confidence in her voice +of rare quality. "He is not dead, Anne dear, or you would have heard." + +Had she glanced up, she would have seen Mr. Brinsmade's eye upon her. +He looked kindly at all people, but this expression he reserved for those +whom he honored. A life of service to others had made him guess that, in +the absence of her father, this girl had come to him for help of some +kind. + +"Virginia is right, Anne," he said. "John has gone to fight for his +principles, as every gentleman who is free should; we must remember that +this is his home, and that we must not quarrel with him, because we think +differently." He paused, and came over to Virginia. "There is something +I can do for you, my dear?" said he. + +She rose. "Oh, no, Mr. Brinsmade," she cried. And yet her honesty was +as great as Anne's. She would not have it thought that she came for +other reasons. "My aunt is in such a state of worry over Clarence that I +came to ask you if you thought the news true, that the prisoners are to +be paroled. She thinks it is a--" Virginia flushed, and bit a rebellious +tongue. "She does not believe it." + +Even good Mr. Brinsmade smiled at the slip she had nearly made. He +understood the girl, and admired her. He also understood Mrs. Colfax. + +I'll will drive to the Arsenal with you, Jinny," he answered. "I know +Captain Lyon, and we shall find out certainly." + +"You will do nothing of the kind, sir," said Virginia, with emphasis." +Had I known this--about John, I should not have come." + +He checked her with a gesture. What a gentleman of the old school he +was, with his white ruffled shirt and his black stock and his eye +kindling with charity. + +"My dear," he answered, "Nicodemus is waiting. I was just going myself +to ask Captain Lyon about John." Virginia's further objections were cut +short by the violent clanging of the door-bell, and the entrance of a +tall, energetic gentleman, whom Virginia had introduced to her as Major +Sherman, late of the army, and now president of the Fifth Street +Railroad. The Major bowed and shook hands. He then proceeded, as was +evidently his habit, directly to the business on which he was come. + +"Mr. Brinsmade," he said, "I heard, accidentally, half an hour ago that +you were seeking news of your son. I regret to say, sir, that the news I +have will not lead to a knowledge of his whereabouts. But in justice to +a young gentleman of this city I think I ought to tell you what happened +at Camp Jackson." + +"I shall be most grateful, Major. Sit down, sir." + +But the Major did not sit down. He stood in the middle of the room. +With some gesticulation which added greatly to the force of the story, +he gave a most terse and vivid account of Mr. John's arrival at the +embankment by the grove--of his charging a whole regiment of Union +volunteers. Here was honesty again. Mr. Sherman did not believe in +mincing matters even to a father and sister. + +"And, sir," said he, "you may thank the young man who lives next door to +you--Mr. Brice, I believe--for saving your son's life." + +"Stephen Brice!" exclaimed Mr, Brinsmade, in astonishment. + +Virginia felt Anne's hand tighten But her own was limp. A hot wave +swept over her, Was she never to hear the end of this man. + +"Yes, sir, Stephen Brice," answered Mr. Sherman. "And I never in my +life saw a finer thing done, in the Mexican War or out of it." + +Mr. Brinsmade grew a little excited. "Are you sure that you know him?" + +"As sure as I know you," said the Major, with excessive conviction. + +"But," said Mr. Brinsmade, "I was in there last night, I knew the young +man had been at the camp. I asked him if he had seen Jack. He told me +that he had, by the embankment. But he never mentioned a word about +saving his life." + +"He didn't," cried the Major. "By glory, but he's even better than I +thought him, Did you see a black powder mark on his face?" + +"Why, yes, sir, I saw a bad burn of some kind on his forehead." + +"Well, sir, if one of the Dutchmen who shot at Jack had known enough to +put a ball in his musket, he would have killed Mr. Brice, who was only +ten feet away, standing before your son." + +Anne gave a little cry--Virginia was silent--Her lips were parted. +Though she realized it not, she was thirsting %a hear the whole of the +story. + +The Major told it, soldier fashion, but well. How John rushed up to the +line. How he (Mr. Sherman) had seen Brice throw the woman down and had +cried to him to lie down himself how the fire was darting down the +regiment, and how men and women were falling all about them; and how +Stephen had flung Jack and covered him with his body. + +It was all vividly before Virginia's eyes. Had she any right to treat +such a man with contempt? She remembered hour he had looked, at her when +he stood on the corner by the Catherwoods' house. And, worst of all, she +remembered many spiteful remarks she had made, even to Anne, the gist of +which had been that Mr. Brice was better at preaching than at fighting. +She knew now--and she had known in her heart before--that this was the +greatest injustice she could have done him. + +"But Jack? What did Jack do?" + +It was Anne who tremblingly asked the Major. But Mr. Sherman, +apparently, was not the man to say that Jack would have shot Stephen had +he not interfered. That was the ugly part of the story. John would have +shot the man who saved his life. To the day of his death neither Mr. +Brinsmade nor his wife knew this. But while Mr. Brinsmade and Anne had +gone upstairs to the sickbed, these were the tidings the Major told +Virginia, who kept it in her heart. The reason he told her was because +she had guessed a part of it. + +Nevertheless Mr. Brinsmade drove to the Arsenal with her that Saturday, +in his own carriage. Forgetful of his own grief, long habit came to him +to talk cheerily with her. He told her many little anecdotes of his +travel, but not one of them did she hear. Again, at the moment when she +thought her belief in Clarence and her love for him at last secure, she +found herself drawing searching comparisons between him and the quieter +young Bostonian. In spite of herself she had to admit that Stephen's +deed was splendid. Was this disloyal? She flushed at the thought. +Clarence had been capable of the deed,--even to the rescue of an enemy. +But--alas, that she should carry it out to a remorseless end--would +Clarence have been equal to keeping silence when Mr. Brinsmade came to +him? Stephen Brice had not even told his mother, so Mr. Brinsmade +believed. + +As if to aggravate her torture, Mr. Brinsmade's talk drifted to the +subject of young Mr. Brice. This was but natural. He told her of the +brave struggle Stephen had made, and how he had earned luxuries, and +often necessities, for his mother by writing for the newspapers. + +"Often," said Mr. Brinsmade, "often I have been unable to sleep, and have +seen the light in Stephen's room until the small hours of the morning." + +"Oh, Mr. Brinsmade," cried Virginia. "Can't you tell me something bad +about him? Just once." + +The good gentleman started, and looked searchingly at the girl by his +side, flushed and confused. Perhaps he thought--but how can we tell what +he thought? How can we guess that our teachers laugh at our pranks after +they have caned us for them? We do not remember that our parents have +once been young themselves, and that some word or look of our own brings +a part of their past vividly before them. Mr. Brinsmade was silent, but +he looked out of the carriage window, away from Virginia. And presently, +as they splashed through the mud near the Arsenal, they met a knot of +gentlemen in state uniforms on their way to the city. Nicodemus stopped +at his master's signal. Here was George Catherwood, and his father was +with him. + +"They have released us on parole," said George. "Yes, we had a fearful +night of it. They could not have kept us--they had no quarters." + +How changed he was from the gay trooper of yesterday! His bright uniform +was creased and soiled and muddy, his face unshaven, and dark rings of +weariness under his eyes. + +"Do you know if Clarence Colfax has gone home?" Mr. Brinsmade inquired. + +"Clarence is an idiot," cried George, ill-naturedly. Mr. Brinsmade, of +all the prisoners here, he refused to take the parole, or the oath of +allegiance. He swears he will remain a prisoner until he is exchanged." + +"The young man is Quixotic," declared the elder Catherwood, who was not +himself in the best of humors. + +"Sir," said Mr. Brinsmade, with as much severity as he was ever known to +use, "sir, I honor that young man for this more than I can tell you. +Nicodemus, you may drive on." And he slammed the door. + +Perhaps George had caught sight of a face in the depths of the carriage, +for he turned purple, and stood staring on the pavement after his +choleric parent had gone on. + +It was done. Of all the thousand and more young men who had upheld the +honor of their state that week, there was but the one who chose to remain +in durance vile within the Arsenal wall--Captain Clarence Colfax, late of +the Dragoons. + +Mr. Brinsmade was rapidly admitted to the Arsenal, and treated with the +respect which his long service to the city deserved. He and Virginia +were shown into the bare military room of the commanding officer, and +thither presently came Captain Lyon himself. Virginia tingled with +antagonism when she saw this man who had made the city tremble, who had +set an iron heel on the flaming brand of her Cause. He, too, showed the +marks of his Herculean labors, but only on his clothes and person. His +long red hair was unbrushed, his boots covered with black mud, and his +coat unbuttoned. His face was ruddy, and his eye as clear as though he +had arisen from twelve hours' sleep. He bowed to Virginia (not too +politely, to be sure). Her own nod of are recognition did not seem to +trouble him. + +"Yes, sir," he said incisively, in response to Mr. Brinsmade's question, +"we are forced to retain Captain Colfax. He prefers to remain a prisoner +until he is exchanged. He refuses to take the oath of allegiance to the +United States. + +"And why should he be made to, Captain Lyon? In what way has he opposed +the United States troops?" + +It was Virginia who spoke. Both looked at her in astonishment. + +"You will pardon me, Miss Carvel," said Captain Lyon, gravely, "if I +refuse to discuss that question with you." Virginia bit her tongue. + +"I understand that Mr. Colfax is a near relative of yours, Miss Carvel," +the Captain continued. "His friends may come here to see him during the +day. And I believe it is not out of place for me to express my +admiration of the captain's conduct. You may care to see him now--" + +"Thank you," said Virginia, curtly. + +"Orderly, my respects to Captain Colfax, and ask him if a he will be kind +enough to come in here. Mr. Brinsmade," said the Captain, "I should like +a few words with you, sir." And so, thanks to the Captain's delicacy, +when Clarence arrived he found Virginia alone. She was much agitated She +ran toward him as he entered the door, calling his name. + +"Max, you are going to stay here?" + +"Yes, until I am exchanged." + +Aglow with admiration, she threw herself into his arms. Now, indeed, was +she proud of him. Of all the thousand defenders of the state, he alone +was true to his principles--to the South. Within sight of home, he alone +had chosen privation. + +She looked up into his face, which showed marks of excitement and +fatigue. But above all, excitement. She knew that he could live on +excitement. The thought came to her--was it that which sustained him +now? She put it away as treason. Surely the touch of this experience +would transform the boy into the man. This was the weak point in the +armor which she wore so bravely for her cousin. + +He had grown up to idleness. He had known neither care nor +responsibility. His one longing from a child had been that love of +fighting and adventure which is born in the race. Until this gloomy day +in the Arsenal, Virginia had never characterized it as a love of +excitement---as any thing which contained a selfish element. She looked +up into his face, I say, and saw that which it is given to a woman only +to see. His eyes burned with a light that was far away. Even with his +arms around her he seemed to have forgotten her presence, and that she +had come all the way to the Arsenal to see him. Her hands dropped limply +from his shoulders She drew away, as he did not seem to notice. + +So it is with men. Above and beyond the sacrifice of a woman's life, the +joy of possessing her soul and affection, is something more desirable +still--fame and glory--personal fame and glory, The woman may share +them, of course, and be content with the radiance. When the Governor in +making his inauguration speech, does he always think of the help the +little wife has given him. And so, in moments of excitement, when we +see far ahead into a glorious future, we do not feel the arms about us, +or value the sweets which, in more humdrum days, we labored so hard to +attain. + +Virginia drew away, and the one searching glance she gave him he did +not see. He was staring far beyond; tears started in her eyes, and she +turned from him to look out over the Arsenal grounds, still wet and heavy +with the night's storm. The day itself was dark and damp. She thought +of the supper cooking at home. It would not be eaten now. + +And yet, in that moment of bitterness Virginia loved him. Such are the +ways of women, even of the proudest, who love their country too. It was +but right that he should not think of her when the honor of the South was +at stake; and the anger that rose within her was against those nine +hundred and ninety-nine who had weakly accepted the parole. + +"Why did Uncle Comyn not come?" asked Clarence. He has gone to +Jefferson City, to see the Governor.." "And you came alone?" + +"No, Mr. Brinsmade brought me." + +"And mother?" + +She was waiting for that question. What a relief that should have come +among the first. + +"Aunt Lillian feels very badly. She was in her room when I left. She +was afraid," (Virginia had to smile), "she was afraid the Yankees would +kill you." + +"They have behaved very well for Yankees," replied he, "No luxury, and +they will not hear of my having a servant. They are used to doing their +own work. But they have treated me much better since I refused to take +their abominable oath." + +"And you will be honored for it when the news reaches town." + +"Do you think so, Jinny?" Clarence asked eagerly, "I reckon they will +think me a fool!" + +"I should like to hear any one say so," she flashed out. + +"No," said Virginia, "our friends will force them to release you. I do +not know much about law. But you have done nothing to be imprisoned +for." + +Clarence did not answer at once. Finally he said. "I do not want to be +released." + +"You do not want to be released," she repeated. + +"No," he said. "They can exchange me. If I remain a prisoner, it will +have a greater effect--for the South." + +She smiled again, this time at the boyish touch of heroics. Experience, +responsibility, and he would get over that. She remembered once, long +ago, when his mother had shut him up in his room for a punishment, and +he had tortured her by remaining there for two whole days. + +It was well on in the afternoon when she drove back to the city with Mr. +Brinsmade. Neither of them had eaten since morning, nor had they even +thought of hunger. Mr. Brinsmade was silent, leaning back in the corner +of the carriage, and Virginia absorbed in her own thoughts. Drawing near +the city, that dreaded sound, the rumble of drums, roused them. A shot +rang out, and they were jerked violently by the starting of the horses. +As they dashed across Walnut at Seventh came the fusillade. Virginia +leaned out of the window. Down the vista of the street was a mass of +blue uniforms, and a film of white smoke hanging about the columns of the +old Presbyterian Church Mr. Brinsmade quietly drew her back into the +carriage. + +The shots ceased, giving place to an angry roar that struck terror to her +heart that wet and lowering afternoon. The powerful black horses +galloped on. Nicodemus tugging at the reins, and great splotches of mud +flying in at the windows. The roar of the crowd died to an ominous +moaning behind them. Then she knew that Mr. Brinsmade was speaking:-- + +"From battle and murder, and from sudden death--from all sedition, privy +conspiracy, and rebellion,--Good Lord, deliver us." + +He was repeating the Litany--that Litany which had come down through the +ages. They had chanted it in Cromwell's time, when homes were ruined and +laid waste, and innocents slaughtered. They had chanted it on the dark, +barricaded stairways of mediaeval Paris, through St. Bartholomew's night, +when the narrow and twisted streets, ran with blood. They had chanted it +in ancient India, and now it was heard again in the New World and the New +Republic of Peace and Good Will. + +Rebellion? The girl flinched at the word which the good gentleman had +uttered in his prayers. Was she a traitor to that flag for which her +people had fought in three wars? Rebellion! She burned to blot it +forever from the book Oh, the bitterness of that day, which was prophecy +of the bitterness to come. + +Rain was dropping as Mr. Brinsmade escorted her up her own steps. He +held her hand a little at parting, and bade her be of good cheer. +Perhaps he guessed something of the trial she was to go through that +night alone with her aunt, Clarence's mother. Mr. Brinsmade did not go +directly home. He went first to the little house next door to his. Mrs. +Brice and Judge Whipple were in the parlor: What passed between them +there has not been told, but presently the Judge and Mr. Brinsmade came +out together and stood along time in, the yard, conversing, heedless of +the rain. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE STAMPEDE + +Sunday dawned, and the people flocked to the churches. But even in the +house of God were dissension and strife. From the Carvel pew at Dr. +Posthelwaite's Virginia saw men and women rise from their knees and walk +out--their faces pale with anger. At St. Mark's the prayer for the +President of the United States was omitted. Mr. Russell and Mr. +Catherwood nodded approvingly over the sermon in which the South was +justified, and the sanction of Holy Writ laid upon her Institution. With +not indifferent elation these gentlemen watched the departure of brethren +with whom they had labored for many years, save only when Mr. Brinsmade +walked down the aisle never to return. So it is that war, like a +devastating flood, creeps insistent into the most sacred places, and will +not be denied. Mr. Davitt, at least, preached that day to an united +congregation,--which is to say that none of them went out. Mr. Hopper, +who now shared a pew with Miss Crane, listened as usual with a most +reverent attention. The clouds were low and the streets wet as people +walked home to dinner, to discuss, many in passion and some in sorrow, +the doings of the morning. A certain clergyman had prayed to be +delivered from the Irish, the Dutch, and the Devil. Was it he who +started the old rumor which made such havoc that afternoon? Those +barbarians of the foreign city to the south, drunk with power, were to +sack and loot the city. How it flew across street and alley, from yard +to yard, and from house to house! Privileged Ned ran into the dining- +room where Virginia and her aunt were sitting, his eyes rolling and his +face ashen with terror, crying out that the Dutch were marching on the +city, firebrands in hand and murder in their hearts. + +"De Gen'ral done gib out er procl'mation, Miss Jinny," he cried. "De +Gen'ral done say in dat procl'mation dat he ain't got no control ober de +Dutch soldiers." + +Mrs. Colfax fainted. + +"Oh Miss Jinny, ain't you gwineter Glencoe? Ain't you gwineter flee +away? Every fambly on dis here street's gwine away--is packin' up fo' de +country. Doan't you hear 'em, Miss Jinny? What'll your pa say to Ned of +he ain't make you clear out! Doan't you hear de carridges a-rattlin' off +to de country?" + +Virginia rose in agitation, yet trying to be calm, and to remember that +the safety of the household depended upon her alone. That was her +thought,--bred into her by generations,--the safety of the household, of +the humblest slave whose happiness and welfare depended upon her father's +bounty. How she longed in that instant for her father or Captain Lige, +for some man's strength, to depend upon. Would there be wisdom in +flight? + +"Do you want to go, Ned?" she asked. She has seen her aunt swoon before, +and her maid Susan knows well what to do. "Do you want to go, Ned?" + +"Laws Mussy, no, Miss Jinny. One nigger laik me doan't make no +difference. My Marsa he say: 'Whaffor you leave ma house to be ramsacked +by de Dutch?' + +"What I gwineter answer? Oh Miss Jinny, you an' Miss Lill an' Mammy +Easter an' Susan's gwine with Jackson, an' de othah niggahs can walk. +Ephum an' me'll jes' put up de shutters an' load de Colonel's gun." + +By this time the room was filled with excited negroes, some crying, and +some laughing hysterically. Uncle Ben had come in from the kitchen; +Jackson was there, and the women were a wailing bunch in the corner by +the sideboard. Old Ephum, impassive, and Ned stood together. Virginia's +eye rested upon them, and the light of love and affection was in it. She +went to the window. Yes, carriages were indeed rattling outside, though +a sharp shower was falling. Across the street Alphonse, M. Renault's +butler, was depositing bags and bundles on the steps. M. Renault himself +bustled out into the rain, gesticulating excitedly. Spying her at the +window, he put his hands to his mouth, cried out something, and ran in +again. Virginia flung open the sash and listened for the dreaded sound +of drums. Then she crossed quickly over to where her aunt was lying on +the lounge. + +"O Jinny," murmured that lady, who had revived, "can't you do something? +Haven't you done anything? They will be here any moment to burn us, to +murder us--to--oh, my poor boy! Why isn't he here to protect his mother! +Why was Comyn so senseless, so thoughtless, as to leave us at such a +time!" + +"I don't think there is any need to be frightened," said Virginia, with a +calmness that made her aunt tremble with anger. "It is probably only a +rumor. Ned, run to Mr. Brinsmade's and ask him about it." + +However loath to go, Ned departed at once. All honor to those old-time +negroes who are now memories, whose devotion to their masters was next to +their love of God. A great fear was in Ned's heart, but he went. And he +believed devoutly that he would never see his young mistress any more. + +And while Ned is running to Mr. Brinsmade's, Mrs. Colfax is summoning +that courage which comes to persons of her character at such times. She +gathers her jewels into a bag, and her fine dresses into her trunk, with +trembling hands, although she is well enough now. The picture of +Clarence in the diamond frame she puts inside the waist of her gown. +No, she will not go to Bellegarde. That is too near the city. With +frantic haste she closes the trunk, which Ephum and Jackson carry +downstairs and place between the seats of the carriage. Ned had had the +horses in it since church time. It is not safe outside. But where to +go? + +To Glencoe? It is three in the afternoon, and Jackson explains that, +with the load, they would not reach there until midnight, if at all. To +Kirkwood or Webster? Yes; many of the first families live there, and +would take them in for the night. Equipages of all sorts are passing,-- +private carriages and public, and corner-stand hacks. The black drivers +are cracking whips over galloping horses. + +Pedestrians are hurrying by with bundles under their arms, some running +east, and some west, and some stopping to discuss excitedly the chances +of each direction. From the river comes the hoarse whistle of the boats +breaking the Sabbath stillness there. It is a panic to be remembered. + +Virginia leaned against the iron railing of the steps, watching the +scene, and waiting for Ned to return from Mr. Brinsmade's. Her face was +troubled, as well it might be. The most alarming reports were cried up +to her from the street, and she looked every moment for the black smoke +of destruction to appear to the southward. Around her were gathered the +Carvel servants, most of them crying, and imploring her not to leave +them. And when Mrs. Colfax's trunk was brought down and placed in the +carriage where three of them might have ridden to safety, a groan of +despair and entreaty rose from the faithful group that went to her heart. + +"Miss Jinny, you ain't gwineter leave yo' ol mammy?" + +"Hush, Mammy," she said. "No, you shall all go, if I have to stay +myself. Ephum, go to the livery stable and get another carriage." + +She went up into her own deserted room to gather the few things she would +take with her--the little jewellery case with the necklace of pearls +which her great-grandmother had worn at her wedding. Rosetta and Mammy +Easter were of no use, and she had sent them downstairs again. With a +flutter she opened her wardrobe door, to take one last look at the gowns +there. You will pardon her. They were part of happier days gone by. +She fell down on her knees and opened the great drawer at the bottom, and +there on the top lay the dainty gown which had belonged to Dorothy +Manners. A tear fell upon one of the flowers of the stays. Irresistibly +pressed into her mind the memory of Anne's fancy dress ball,--of the +episode by the gate, upon which she had thought so often with burning +face. + +The voices below grow louder, but she does not hear. She is folding the +gown hurriedly into a little package. It was her great-grandmother's; +her chief heirloom after the pearls. Silk and satin from Paris are left +behind. With one glance at the bed in which she had slept since +childhood, and at the picture over it which had been her mother's, she +hurries downstairs. And Dorothy Manners's gown is under her arm. On the +landing she stops to brush her eyes with her handkerchief. If only her +father were here! + +Ah, here is Ned back again. Has Mr. Brinsmade come? + +What did he say? Ned simply pointed out a young man standing on the +steps behind the negroes. Crimson stains were on Virginia's cheeks, +and the package she carried under her arm was like lead. The young man, +although he showed no signs of excitement, reddened too as he came +forward and took off his hat. But the sight of him had acurious effect +upon Virginia, of which she was at first unconscious. A sense of +security came upon her as she looked at his face and listened to his +voice. + +"Mr. Brinsmade has gone to the hospital, Miss Carvel," he said. "Mrs. +Brinsmade asked me to come here with your man in the hope that I might +persuade you to stay where you are." + +"Then the Germans are not moving on the city?" she said. + +In spite of himself, Stephen smiled. It was that smile that angered her, +that made her rebel against the advice he had to offer; that made her +forget the insult he had risked at her hands by coming there. For she +believed him utterly, without reservation. The moment he had spoken she +was convinced that the panic was a silly scare which would be food for +merriment in future years. And yet--was not that smile in derision of +herself--of her friends who were running away? Was it not an assumption +of Northern superiority, to be resented? + +"It is only a malicious rumor, Miss Carvel," he answered. "You have been +told so upon good authority, I suppose," she said dryly. And at the +change in her tone she saw his face fall. + +"I have not," he replied honestly, "but I will submit it to your own +judgment. Yesterday General Harney superseded Captain Lyon in command in +St. Louis. Some citizens of prominence begged the General to send the +troops away, to avoid further ill-feeling and perhaps--bloodshed." +(They both winced at the word.) "Colonel Blair represented to the +General that the troops could not be sent away, as they had been enlisted +to serve only in St. Louis; whereupon the General in his proclamation +states that he has no control over these Home Guards. That sentence has +been twisted by some rascal into a confession that the Home Guards are +not to be controlled. I can assure you, Miss Carvel," added Stephen, +speaking with a force which made her start and thrill, "I can assure you +from a personal knowledge of the German troops that they are not a +riotous lot, and that they are under perfect control. If they were not, +there are enough regulars in the city to repress them." + +He paused. And she was silent, forgetful of the hub-bub around her. It +was then that her aunt called out to her, with distressing shrillness, +from the carriage:-- + +"Jinny, Jinny, how can you stand there talking to young men when our +lives are in danger?" + +She glanced hurriedly at Stephen, who said gently; "I do not wish to +delay you, Miss Carvel, if you are bent upon going." + +She wavered. His tone was not resentful, simply quiet. Ephum turned the +corner of the street, the perspiration running on his black face. + +"Miss Jinny, dey ain't no carridges to be had in this town. No'm, not +for fifty dollars." + +This was the occasion for another groan from the negroes, and they began +once more to beseech her not to leave them. In the midst of their cries +she heard her aunt calling from the carriage, where, beside the trunk, +there was just room for her to squeeze in. + +"Jinny," cried that lady, frantically, "are you to go or stay? The +Hessians will be here at any moment. Oh, I cannot stay here to be +murdered!" + +Unconsciously the girl glanced again at Stephen. He had not gone, but +was still standing in the rain on the steps, the one figure of strength +and coolness she had seen this afternoon. Distracted, she blamed the +fate which had made this man an enemy. How willingly would she have +leaned upon such as he, and submitted to his guidance. Unluckily at that +moment came down the street a group which had been ludicrous on any other +day, and was, in truth, ludicrous to Stephen then. At the head of it was +a little gentleman with red mutton-chop whiskers, hatless, in spite of +the rain beginning to fall. His face was the very caricature of terror. +His clothes, usually neat, were awry, and his arms were full of various +things, not the least conspicuous of which was a magnificent bronze +clock. It was this object that caught Virginia's eye. But years passed +before she laughed over it. Behind Mr. Cluyme (for it was he) trotted +his family. Mrs. Cluyme, in a pink wrapper, carried an armful of the +family silver; then came Belle with certain articles of feminine apparel +which need not be enumerated, and the three small Cluymes of various ages +brought up the rear. + +Mr. Cluyme, at the top of his speed, was come opposite to the carriage +when the lady occupant got out of it. Clutching at his sleeve, she +demanded where he was going. The bronze clock had a narrow escape. + +"To the river," he gasped. "To the river, madame!" His wife coming +after him had a narrower escape still. Mrs. Colfax retained a handful of +lace from the wrapper, the owner of which emitted a shriek of fright. + +"Virginia, I am going to the river," said Mrs. Colfax. "You may go where +you choose. I shall send the carriage back for you. Ned, to the levee!" +Ned did not lift a rein. + +"What, you black rascal! You won't obey me?" + +Ned swung on his seat. "No, indeedy, Miss Lilly, I ain't a-gwine 'thout +young Miss. The Dutch kin cotch me an' hang me, but I ain't a-gwine +'thout Miss Jinny." + +Mrs. Colfax drew her shawl about her shoulders with dignity. + +"Very well, Virginia," she said. "Ill as I am, I shall walk. Bear +witness that I have spent a precious hour trying to save you. If I live +to see your father again, I shall tell him that you preferred to stay +here and carry on disgracefully with a Yankee, that you let your own aunt +risk her life alone in the rain. Come, Susan!" + +Virginia was very pale. She did not run down the steps, but she caught +her aunt by the arm ere that lady had taken six paces. The girl's face +frightened Mrs. Colfax into submission, and she let herself be led back +into the carriage beside the trunk. Those words of Mrs. Colfax's stung +Stephen to righteous anger and resentment--for Virginia. + +As to himself, he had looked for insult. He turned to go that he might +not look upon her confusion; and hanging on the resolution, swung on his +heel again, his eyes blazeing. He saw in hers the deep blue light of the +skies after an evening's storm. She was calm, and save for a little +quiver of the voice, mistress of herself as she spoke to the group of +cowering servants. + +"Mammy," she said, "get up on the box with Ned. And, Ned, walk the horses +to the levee, so that the rest may follow. Ephum, you stay here with the +house, and I will send Ned back to keep you company." + +With these words, clasping tightly the precious little bundle under her +arm, she stepped into the carriage. Heedless of the risk he ran, sheer +admiration sent Stephen to the carriage door. + +"If I can be of any service, Miss Carvel," he said, "I shall be happy." + +She glanced at him wildly. + +"No," she cried, "no. Drive on, Ned!" + +And as the horses slipped and started she slammed the door in his face. + +Down on the levee wheels rattled over the white stones washed clean by +the driving rain. The drops pelted the chocolate water into froth, and a +blue veil hid the distant bluffs beyond the Illinois bottom-lands. Down +on the Levee rich and poor battled for places on the landing-stages, and +would have thrown themselves into the flood had there been no boats to +save them from the dreaded Dutch. Attila and his Huns were not more +feared. Oh, the mystery of that foreign city! What might not its +Barbarians do when roused? The rich and poor struggled together; but +money was a power that day, and many were pitilessly turned off because +they did not have the high price to carry them--who knew where? + +Boats which screamed, and boats which had a dragon's roar were backing +out of the close ranks where they had stood wheel-house to wheel-house, +and were dodging and bumping in the channel. See, their guards are black +with people! Mrs. Colfax, when they are come out of the narrow street +into the great open space, remarks this with alarm. All the boats will +be gone before they can get near one. But Virginia does not answer. She +is thinking of other things than the steamboats, and wondering whether it +had not been preferable to be killed by Hessians. + +Ned spies the 'Barbara Lane'. He knows that her captain, Mr. Vance, is a +friend of the family. What a mighty contempt did Ned and his kind have +for foot passengers! Laying about him with his whip, and shouting at the +top of his voice to make himself heard, he sent the Colonel's Kentucky +bays through the crowd down to the Barbara's landing stage, the people +scampering to the right and left, and the Carvel servants, headed by +Uncle Ben, hanging on to the carriage springs, trailing behind. + +Here was a triumph for Ned, indeed! He will tell you to this day how +Mr. Catherwood's carriage was pocketed by drays and bales, and how Mrs. +James's horses were seized by the bridles and turned back. Ned had a +head on his shoulders, and eyes in his head. He spied Captain Vance +himself on the stage, and bade Uncle Ben hold to the horses while he +shouldered his way to that gentleman. The result was that the Captain +came bowing to the carriage door, and offered his own cabin to the +ladies. But the niggers---he would take no niggers except a maid for +each; and he begged Mrs. Colfax's pardon--he could not carry her trunk. + +So Virginia chose Mammy Easter, whose red and yellow turban was awry from +fear lest she be left behind and Ned was instructed to drive the rest +with all haste to Bellegarde. Captain Vance gave Mrs. Colfax his arm, +and Virginia his eyes. He escorted the ladies to quarters in the texas, +and presently was heard swearing prodigiously as the boat was cast off. +It was said of him that he could turn an oath better than any man on the +river, which was no mean reputation. + +Mrs. Colfax was assisted to bed by Susan. Virginia stood by the little +window of the cabin, and as the Barbara paddled and floated down the +river she looked anxiously for signals of a conflagration. Nay, in that +hour she wished that the city might burn. So it is that the best of us +may at times desire misery to thousands that our own malice may be fed. +Virginia longed to see the yellow flame creep along the wet, gray clouds. +Passionate tears came to her eyes at the thought of the humiliation she +had suffered,--and before him, of all men. Could she ever live with her +aunt after what she had said? "Carrying on with that Yankee!" The +horrible injustice of it! + +Her anger, too, was still against Stephen. Once more he had been sent by +circumstances to mock her and her people. If the city would only burn, +that his cocksure judgment might for once be mistaken, his calmness for +once broken! + +The rain ceased, the clouds parted, and the sun turned the muddy river to +gold. The bluffs shone May-green in the western flood of light, and a +haze hung over the bottom-lands. Not a sound disturbed the quiet of the +city receding to the northward, and the rain had washed the pall of smoke +from over it. On the boat excited voices died down to natural tones; men +smoked on the guards and promenaded on the hurricane deck, as if this +were some pleasant excursion. Women waved to the other boats flocking +after. Laughter was heard, and joking. Mrs. Colfax stirred in her berth +and began to talk. + +"Virginia, where are we going?" Virginia did not move + +"Jinny!" + +She turned. In that hour she remembered that great good-natured man, her +mother's brother, and for his sake Colonel Carvel had put up with much +from his wife's sister in-law. She could pass over, but never forgive +what her aunt had said to her that afternoon. Mrs. Colfax had often been +cruel before, and inconsiderate. But as the girl thought of the speech, +staring out on the waters, it suddenly occurred to her that no lady would +have uttered it. In all her life she had never realized till now that +her aunt was not a lady. From that time forth Virginia's attitude toward +her aunt was changed. + +She controlled herself, however, and answered something, and went out +listlessly to find the Captain and inquire the destination of the boat. +Not that this mattered much to her. At the foot of the companionway +leading to the saloon deck she saw, of all people, Mr. Eliphalet Hopper +leaning on the rail, and pensively expectorating on the roof of the +wheel-house. In another mood Virginia would have laughed, for at sight +of her he straightened convulsively, thrust his quid into his cheek, and +removed his hat with more zeal than the grudging deference he usually +accorded to the sex. Clearly Eliphalet would not have chosen the +situation. + +"I cal'late we didn't get out any too soon, Miss Carvel," he remarked, +with a sad attempt at jocoseness. "There won't be a great deal in that +town when the Dutch get through with it." + +"I think that there are enough men left in it to save it," said Virginia. + +Apparently Mr. Hopper found no suitable answer to this, for he made none. +He continued to glance at her uneasily. There was an impudent tribute in +his look which she resented strongly. + +"Where is the Captain?" she demanded. + +"He's down below--ma'am," he replied. "Can--can I do anything?" + +"Yes," she said, with abrupt maliciousness, "you may tell me where you +are going." + +"I cal'late, up the Cumberland River. That's where she's bound for, if +she don't stop before she gets there Guess there ain't many of 'em +inquired where she was goin', or cared much," he added, with a ghastly +effort to be genial. + +"Do you care?" she demanded, curiously. Eliphalet grinned. + +"Not a great deal," he said. Then he felt called upon to defend +himself. "I didn't see any use in gettin' murdered, when I couldn't do +anything." + +She left him. He stared after her up the companionway, bit off a +generous piece of tobacco, and ruminated. If to be a genius is to +possess an infinite stock of patience, Mr. Hopper was a genius. There +was patience in his smile. But it was not a pleasant smile to look upon. + +Virginia did not see it. She had told her aunt the news, and stood in +the breeze on the hurricane deck looking southward, with her hand shading +her eyes. The 'Barbara Lane' happened to be a boat with a record, and +her name was often in the papers. She had already caught up with and +distanced others which had had half an hour's start of her, and was near +the head of the procession. + +Virginia presently became aware that people were gathering around her in +knots, gazing at a boat coming toward them. Others had been met which, +on learning the dread news, turned back. But this one kept her bow +steadily up the current, although she had passed within a biscuit-toss of +the leader of the line of refugees. It was then that Captain Vance's +hairy head appeared above the deck. + +"Dang me!" he said, "if here ain't pig-headed Brent, steaming the +'Jewanita' straight to destruction." + +"Oh, are you sure it's Captain Brent?" cried Virginia. The Captain +looked around in surprise. + +"If that there was Shreve's old Enterprise come to life again, I'd lay +cotton to sawdust that Brent had her. Danged if be wouldn't take her +right into the jaws of the Dutch." + +The Captain's words spread, and caused considerable excitement. On board +the Barbara Lane were many gentlemen who had begun to be shamefaced over +their panic, and these went in a body to the Captain and asked him to +communicate with the 'Juanita'. Whereupon a certain number of whistles +were sounded, and the Barbara's bows headed for the other side of the +channel. + +As the Juanita drew near, Virginia saw the square figure and clean, +smooth-shaven face of Captain Lige standing in front of his wheel-house +Peace crept back into her soul, and she tingled with joy as the bells +clanged and the bucket-planks churned, and the great New Orleans packet +crept slowly to the Barbara's side. + +"You ain't goin' in, Brent?" shouted the Barbara's captain. + +"Why not?" responded Mr. Brent. At the sound of his voice Virginia +could have wept. + +"The Dutch are sacking the city," said Vance. "Didn't they tell you?" + +"The Dutch--hell!" said Mr, Brent, calmly. "Who's afraid of the Dutch?" + +A general titter went along the guards, and Virginia blushed. Why could +not the Captain see her? + +"I'm on my reg'lar trip, of course," said Vance. Out there on the sunlit +river the situation seemed to call for an apology. + +"Seems to be a little more loaded than common," remarked Captain Lige, +dryly, at which there was another general laugh. + +"If you're really goin' up," said Captain Vance, I reckon there's a few +here would like to be massacred, if you'll take 'em." + +"Certainly," answered Mr. Brent; "I'm bound for the barbecue." And he +gave a command. + +While the two great boats were manoeuvring, and slashing with one wheel +and the other, the gongs sounding, Virginia ran into the cabin. + +"Oh, Aunt Lillian," she exclaimed, "here is Captain Lige and the Juanita, +and he is going to take us back with him. He says there is no danger." + +It its unnecessary here to repeat the moral persuasion which Virginia +used to get her aunt up and dressed. That lady, when she had heard the +whistle and the gongs, had let her imagination loose. Turning her face +to the wall, she was in the act of repeating her prayers as her niece +entered. + +A big stevedore carried her down two decks to where the gang-plank was +thrown across. Captain Lige himself was at the other end. His face +lighted, Pushing the people aside, he rushed across, snatched the lady +from the negro's arms, crying: + +"Jinny! Jinny Carvel! Well, if this ain't fortunate." The stevedore's +services were required for Mammy Easter. And behind the burly shield +thus formed, a stoutish gentleman slipped over, all unnoticed, with a +carpet-bag in his hand It bore the initials E. H. + +The plank was drawn in. The great wheels began to turn and hiss, the +Barbara's passengers waved good-by to the foolhardy lunatics who had +elected to go back into the jaws of destruction. Mrs. Colfax was put +into a cabin; and Virginia, in a glow, climbed with Captain Lige to the +hurricane deck. There they stood for a while in silence, watching the +broad stern of the Barbara growing smaller. "Just to think," Miss Carvel +remarked, with a little hysterical sigh, "just to think that some of +those people brought bronze clocks instead of tooth-brushes." + +"And what did you bring, my girl?" asked the Captain, glancing at the +parcel she held so tightly under her arm. + +He never knew why she blushed so furiously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE STRAINING OF ANOTHER FRIENDSHIP + +Captain Lige asked but two questions: where was the Colonel, and was it +true that Clarence had refused to be paroled? Though not possessing +over-fine susceptibilities, the Captain knew a mud-drum from a lady's +watch, as he himself said. In his solicitude for Virginia, he saw that +she was in no state of mind to talk of the occurrences of the last few +days. So he helped her to climb the little stair that winds to the top +of the texas,--that sanctified roof where the pilot-house squats. The +girl clung to her bonnet Will you like her any the less when you know +that it was a shovel bonnet, with long red ribbons that tied under her +chin? It became her wonderfully. "Captain Lige," she said, almost +tearfully, as she took his arm, "how I thank heaven that you came up the +river this afternoon!" + +"Jinny," said the Captain, "did you ever know why cabins are called +staterooms?" + +"Why, no," answered she, puzzled. + +"There was an old fellow named Shreve who ran steamboats before Jackson +fought the redcoats at New Orleans. In Shreve's time the cabins were +curtained off, just like these new-fangled sleeping-car berths. The old +man built wooden rooms, and he named them after the different states, +Kentuck, and Illinois, and Pennsylvania. So that when a fellow came +aboard he'd say: 'What state am I in, Cap?' And from this river has the +name spread all over the world--stateroom. That's mighty interesting," +said Captain Lige. + +"Yea," said Virginia; "why didn't you tell me long ago." + +"And I'll bet you can't say," the Captain continued, "why this house +we're standing on is called the texas." Because it is annexed to the +states," she replied, quick a flash. + +"Well, you're bright," said he. "Old Tufts got that notion, when Texas +came in. Like to see Bill Jenks?" + +"Of course," said Virginia. + +Bill Jenks was Captain Brent's senior pilot. His skin hung on his face +in folds, like that of a rhinoceros It was very much the same color. +His grizzled hair was all lengths, like a worn-out mop; his hand reminded +one of an eagle's claw, and his teeth were a pine yellow. He greeted +only such people as he deemed worthy of notice, but he had held Virginia +in his arms. + +"William," said the young lady, roguishly, "how is the eye, location, and +memory?" + +William abandoned himself to a laugh. When this happened it was put in +the Juanita's log. + +"So the Cap'n be still harpin' on that?" he said, "Miss Jinny, he's +just plumb crazy on a pilot's qualifications," + +"He says that you are the best pilot on the river, but I don't believe +it," said Virginia. + +William cackled again. He made a place for her on the leather-padded +seat at the back of the pilot house, where for a long time she sat +staring at the flag trembling on the jackstaff between the great sombre +pipes. The sun fell down, but his light lingered in the air above as the +big boat forged abreast the foreign city of South St. Louis. There was +the arsenal--grim despite its dress of green, where Clarence was confined +alone. + +Captain Lige came in from his duties below. "Well, Jinny, we'll soon be +at home," he said. "We've made a quick trip against the rains." + +"And--and do you think the city is safe?" + +"Safe!" he cried. "As safe as London!" He checked himself. "Jinny, +would you like to blow the whistle?" + +"I should just love to," said Virginia. And following Mr. Jenks's +directions she put her toe on the tread, and shrank back when the monster +responded with a snort and a roar. River men along the levee heard that +signal and laughed. The joke was certainly not on sturdy Elijah Brent. + +An hour later, Virginia and her aunt and the Captain, followed by Mammy +aster and Rosetta and Susan, were walking through the streets of the +stillest city in the Union. All that they met was a provost's guard, for +St. Louis was under Martial Law. Once in a while they saw the light of +some contemptuous citizen of the residence district who had stayed to +laugh. Out in the suburbs, at the country houses of the first families, +people of distinction slept five and six in a room--many with only +a quilt between body and matting. Little wonder that these dreamed of +Hessians and destruction. In town they slept with their doors open, +those who remained and had faith. Martial law means passes and +explanations, and walking generally in the light of day. Martial law +means that the Commander-in-chief, if he be an artist in well doing, may +use his boot freely on politicians bland or beetle-browed. No police +force ever gave the sense of security inspired by a provost's guard. + +Captain Lige sat on the steps of Colonel Carvel's house that night, long +after the ladies were gone to bed. The only sounds breaking the silence +of the city were the beat of the feet of the marching squads and the call +of the corporal's relief. But the Captain smoked in agony until the +clouds of two days slipped away from under the stars, for he was trying +to decide a Question. Then he went up to a room in the house which had +been known as his since the rafters were put down on that floor. + +The next morning, as the Captain and Virginia sit at breakfast together +with only Mammy Easter to cook and Rosetta to wait on them, the Colonel +bursts in. He is dusty and travel-stained from his night on the train, +but his gray eyes light with affection as he sees his friend beside his +daughter. + +"Jinny," he cries as he kisses her, "Jinny, I'm proud oil you, my girl! +You didn't let the Yankees frighten you--But where is Jackson?" + +And so the whole miserable tale has to be told over again, between +laughter and tears on Virginia's part, and laughter and strong language +on Colonel Carvel's. What--blessing that Lige met them, else the Colonel +might now be starting for the Cumberland River in search of his daughter. +The Captain does not take much part in the conversation, and he refuses +the cigar which is offered him. Mr. Carvel draws back in surprise. + +"Lige," he says, "this is the first time to my knowledge." I smoked too +many last night," says the Captain. The Colonel sat down, with his feet +against the mantel, too full of affairs to take much notice of Mr. +Brent's apathy. + +"The Yanks have taken the first trick--that's sure," he said. "But I +think we'll laugh last, Jinny. Jefferson City isn't precisely quiet. +The state has got more militia, or will have more militia in a day or +two. We won't miss the thousand they stole in Camp Jackson. They're +organizing up there. And I've got a few commissions right here," and he +tapped his pocket. + +"Pa," said Virginia, "did you volunteer?" + +The Colonel laughed. + +"The Governor wouldn't have me," he answered. "He said I was more good +here in St. Louis. I'll go later. What's this I hear about Clarence?" + +Virginia related the occurrences of Saturday. The Colonel listened with +many exclamations, slapping his knee from time to time as she proceeded. + +"By gum!" he cried, when she had finished, "the boy has it in him, after +all! They can't hold him a day--can they, Lige?" (No answer from the +Captain, who is eating his breakfast in silence.) "All that we have to +do is to go for Worington and get a habeas corpus from the United States +District Court. Come on, Lige." The Captain got up excitedly, his face +purple. + +"I reckon you'll have to excuse me, Colonel," he said. "There's a cargo +on my boat which has got to come off." And without more ado he left the +room. In consternation they heard the front door close behind him. And +yet, neither father nor daughter dared in that hour add to the trial of +the other by speaking out the dread that was in their hearts. The +Colonel smoked for a while, not a word escaping him, and then he patted +Virginia's cheek. + +"I reckon I'll run over and see Russell, Jinny," he said, striving to be +cheerful. "We must get the boy out. I'll see a lawyer." He stopped +abruptly in the hall and pressed his hand to his forehead. "My God," he +whispered to himself, "if I could only go to Silas!" + +The good Colonel got Mr. Russell, and they went to Mr. Worington, Mrs. +Colfax's lawyer, of whose politics it is not necessary to speak. There +was plenty of excitement around the Government building where his Honor +issued the writ. There lacked not gentlemen of influence who went with +Mr. Russell and Colonel Carvel and the lawyer and the Commissioner to the +Arsenal. They were admitted to the presence of the indomitable Lyon, who +informed them that Captain Colfax was a prisoner of war, and, since the +arsenal was Government property, not in the state. The Commissioner +thereupon attested the affidavit to Colonel Carvel, and thus the +application for the writ was made legal. + +These things the Colonel reported to Virginia; and to Mrs. Colfax, who +received them with red eyes and a thousand queries as to whether that +Yankee ruffian would pay any attention to the Sovereign law which he +pretended to uphold; whether the Marshal would not be cast over the +Arsenal wall by the slack of his raiment when he went to serve the writ. +This was not the language, but the purport, of the lady's questions. +Colonel Carvel had made but a light breakfast: he had had no dinner, and +little rest on the train. But he answered his sister-in-law with +unfailing courtesy. He was too honest to express a hope which he did not +feel. He had returned that evening to a dreary household. During the +day the servants had straggled in from Bellegarde, and Virginia had had +prepared those dishes which her father loved. Mrs. Colfax chose to keep +her room, for which the two were silently thankful. Jackson announced +supper. The Colonel was humming a tune as he went down the stairs, but +Virginia was not deceived. He would not see the yearning in her eyes as +he took his chair; he would not glance at Captain Lige's empty seat. It +was because he did not dare. She caught her breath when she saw that the +food on his plate lay untouched. + +"Pa, are you ill?" she faltered. + +He pushed his chair away, such suffering in his look as she had never +seen. + +"Jinny," he said, "I reckon Lige is for the Yankees." + +"I have known it all along," she said, but faintly. + +"Did he tell you?" her father demanded. "No." + +"My God," cried the Colonel, in agony, "to think that he kept it from me +I to think that Lige kept it from me!" + +"It is because he loves you, Pa," answered the girl, gently, "it is +because he loves us." + +He said nothing to that. Virginia got up, and went softly around the +table. She leaned over his shoulder. "Pa!" + +"Yes," he said, his voice lifeless. + +But her courage was not to be lightly shaken. "Pa, will you forbid him +to come here--now?" + +A long while she waited for his answer, while the big clock ticked out +the slow seconds in the hall, and her heart beat wildly. + +"No," said the Colonel. "As long as I have a roof, Lige may come under +it." + +He rose abruptly and seized his bat. She did not ask him where he was +going, but ordered Jackson to keep the supper warm, and went into the +drawing-room. The lights were out, then, but the great piano that was +her mother's lay open. Her fingers fell upon the keys. That wondrous +hymn which Judge Whipple loved, which for years has been the comfort of +those in distress, floated softly with the night air out of the open +window. It was "Lead, Kindly Light." Colonel Carvel heard it, and +paused. + +Shall we follow him? + +He did not stop again until he reached the narrow street at the top of +the levee bank, where the quaint stone houses of the old French residents +were being loaded with wares. He took a few steps back-up the hill. +Then he wheeled about, walked swiftly down the levee, and on to the +landing-stage beside which the big 'Juanita' loomed in the night. On her +bows was set, fantastically, a yellow street-car. + +The Colonel stopped mechanically. Its unexpected appearance there had +served to break the current of his meditations. He stood staring at it, +while the roustabouts passed and repassed, noisily carrying great logs of +wood on shoulders padded by their woollen caps. + +"That'll be the first street-car used in the city of New Orleans, if it +ever gets there, Colonel." + +The Colonel jumped. Captain Lige was standing beside him. + +"Lige, is that you? We waited supper for you." + +"Reckon I'll have to stay here and boss the cargo all night. Want to +get in as many trips as I can before--navigation closes," the Captain +concluded significantly. + +Colonel Carvel shook his head. "You were never too busy to come for +supper, Lige. I reckon the cargo isn't all." + +Captain Lige shot at him a swift look. He gulped. + +"Come over here on the levee," said the Colonel, sternly. They walked +out together, and for some distance in silence. + +"Lige," said the elder gentleman, striking his stick on the stones, "if +there ever was a straight goer, that's you. You've always dealt squarely +with me, and now I'm going to ask you a plain question. Are you North or +South?" + +"I'm North, I reckon," answered the Captain, bluntly. The Colonel bowed +his head. It was a long time before he spoke again. The Captain waited +like a man who expects and deserve, the severest verdict. But there was +no anger in Mr. Carvel's voice--only reproach. + +"And you wouldn't tell me, Lige? You kept it from me." + +"My God, Colonel," exclaimed the other, passionately, "how could I? +I owe what I have to your charity. But for you and--and Jinny I should +have gone to the devil. If you and she are taken away, what have I left +in life? I was a coward, sir, not to tell you. You must have guessed +it. And yet,--God help me,--I can't stand by and see the nation go to +pieces. Your nation as well as mine, Colonel. Your fathers fought that +we Americans might inherit the earth--" He stopped abruptly. Then he +continued haltingly, "Colonel, I know you're a man of strong feelings +and convictions. All I ask is that you and Jinny will think of me as +a friend--" + +He choked, and turned away, not heeding the direction of his feet. The +Colonel, his stick raised, stood looking after him. He was folded in the +near darkness before he called his name. + +"Lige!" + +"Yes, Colonel." + +He came back, wondering, across the rough stones until he stood beside +the tall figure. Below them, the lights glided along the dark water. + +"Lige, didn't I raise you? Haven't I taught you that my house was your +home? Come back, Lige. But--but never speak to me again of this night! +Jinny is waiting for us." + +Not a word passed between them as they went up the quiet street. At the +sound of their feet in the entry the door was flung open, and Virginia, +with her hands out stretched, stood under the hall light. + +"Oh, Pa, I knew you would bring him back," she said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +OF CLARENCE + +Captain Clarence Colfax, late of the State Dragoons, awoke on Sunday +morning the chief of the many topics of the conversation of a big city. +His conduct drew forth enthusiastic praise from the gentlemen and ladies +who had thronged Beauregard and Davis avenues, and honest admiration from +the party which had broken up the camp. The boy had behaved well. There +were many doting parents, like Mr. Catherwood, whose boys had accepted +the parole, whose praise was a trifle lukewarm, to be sure. But popular +opinion, when once aroused, will draw a grunt from the most grudging. + +We are not permitted, alas, to go behind these stern walls and discover +how Captain Colfax passed that eventful Sunday of the Exodus. We know +that, in his loneliness, he hoped for a visit from his cousin, and took +to pacing his room in the afternoon, when a smarting sense of injustice +crept upon him. Clarence was young. And how was he to guess, as he +looked out in astonishment upon the frightened flock of white boats +swimming southward, that his mother and his sweetheart were there? + +On Monday, while the Colonel and many prominent citizens were busying +themselves about procuring the legal writ which was at once to release +Mr. Colfax, and so cleanse the whole body of Camp Jackson's defenders +from any, veiled intentions toward the Government, many well known +carriages drew up before the Carvel House in Locust Street to +congratulate the widow and the Colonel upon the possession of such a son +and nephew. There were some who slyly congratulated Virginia, whose +martyrdom it was to sit up with people all the day long. For Mrs, Colfax +kept her room, and admitted only a few of her bosom friends to cry with +her. When the last of the callers was gone, Virginia was admitted to her +aunt's presence. + +"Aunt Lillian, to-morrow morning Pa and I are going to the Arsenal with a +basket for Max. Pa seems to think there is a chance that he may come +back with us. You will go, of course." + +The lady smiled wearily at the proposal, and raised her hands in protest, +the lace on the sleeves of her dressing gown falling away from her white +arms. + +"Go, my dear?" she exclaimed, "when I can't walk to my bureau after that +terrible Sunday. You are crazy, Jinny. No," she added, with conviction, +"I never again expect to see him alive. Comyn says they may release +him, does he? Is he turning Yankee, too?" + +The girl went away, not in anger or impatience, but in sadness. Brought +up to reverence her elders, she had ignored the shallowness of her aunt's +character in happier days. But now Mrs. Colfax's conduct carried a +prophecy with it. Virginia sat down on the landing to ponder on the +years to come,--on the pain they were likely to bring with them from this +source--Clarence gone to the war; her father gone (for she felt that he +would go in the end), Virginia foresaw the lonely days of trial in +company with this vain woman whom accident made her cousin's mother. +Ay, and more, fate had made her the mother of the man she was to marry. +The girl could scarcely bear the thought--through the hurry and swing of +the events of two days she had kept it from her mind. + +But now Clarence was to be released. To-morrow he would be coming home +to her joyfully for his reward, and she did not love him. She was bound +to face that again and again. She had cheated herself again and again +with other feelings. She had set up intense love of country in the +shrine where it did not belong, and it had answered--for a while. She +saw Clarence in a hero's light--until a fatal intimate knowledge made her +shudder and draw back. And yet her resolution should not be water. She +would carry it through. + +Captain Lige's cheery voice roused her from below--and her father's +laugh. And as she went down to them she thanked God that this friend had +been spared to him. Never had the Captain's river yarns been better told +than at the table that evening. Virginia did not see him glance at the +Colonel when at last he had brought a smile to her face. + +"I'm going to leave Jinny with you, Lige," said Mr. Carvel, presently. +"Worington has some notion that the Marshal may go to the Arsenal +to-night with the writ. I mustn't neglect the boy." + +Virginia stood in front of him. "Won't you let me go?" she pleaded + +The Colonel was taken aback. He stood looking down at her, stroking his +goatee, and marvelling at the ways of woman. + +"The horses have been out all day, Jinny," he said, "I am going in the +cars." + +"I can go in the cars, too." + +The Colonel looked at Captain Lige. + +"There is only a chance that we shall see Clarence," he went on, +uneasily. + +"It is better than sitting still," cried Virginia, as she ran away to get +the bonnet with the red strings. + +"Lige,--" said the Colonel, as the two stood awaiting her in the hall, +"I can't make her out. Can you?" + +The Captain did not answer. + +It was a long journey, in a bumping car with had springs that rattled +unceasingly, past the string of provost guards. The Colonel sat in the +corner, with his head bent down over his stick At length, cramped and +weary, they got out, and made their way along the Arsenal wall, past the +sentries to the entrance. The sergeant brought his rifle to a "port". + +"Commandant's orders, sir. No one admitted," he said, + +"Is Captain Colfax here?" asked Mr. Carver + +"Captain Colfax was taken to Illinois in a skiff, quarter of an hour +since." + +Captain Lige gave vent to a long, low whistle. + +"A skiff!" he exclaimed, "and the river this high! A skiff!" + +Virginia clasped his arm in terror. "Is there danger?" + +Before he could answer came the noise of steps from the direction of the +river, and a number of people hurried up excitedly. Colonel Carvel +recognized Mr. Worington, the lawyer, and caught him by the sleeve. + +"Anything happened?" he demanded. + +Worington glanced at the sentry, and pulled the Colonel past the entrance +and into the street. Virginia and Captain Lige followed, + +"They have started across with him in a light skiff----four men and a +captain. The young fool! We had him rescued." + +"Rescued!" + +"Yes. There were but five in the guard. And a lot of us, who suspected +what they were up to, were standing around. When we saw 'em come down, +we made a rush and had the guard overpowered But Colfax called out to +stand back." + +"Well, sir." + +"Cuss me if I understand him," said Mr. Worington. "He told us to +disperse, and that he proposed to remain a prisoner and go where they +sent him." + +There was a silence. Then-- + +"Move on please, gentlemen," said the sentry, and they started to walk +toward the car line, the lawyer and the Colonel together. Virginia put +her hand through the Captain's arm. In the darkness he laid his big one +over it. + +"Don't you be frightened, Jinny, at what I said, I reckon they'll fetch +up in Illinois all right, if I know Lyon. There, there," said Captain +Lige, soothingly. Virginia was crying softly. She had endured more in +the past few days than often falls to the lot of one-and-twenty. + +"There, there, Jinny." He felt like crying himself. He thought of the +many, many times he had taken her on his knee and kissed her tears. He +might do that no more, now. There was the young Captain, a prisoner on +the great black river, who had a better right, Elijah Brent wondered, as +they waited in the silent street for the lonely car, if Clarence loved +her as well as he. + +It was vary late when they reached home, and Virginia went silently up +to her room. Colonel Carvel stared grimly after her, then glanced at his +friend as he turned down the lights. The eyes of the two met, as of old, +in true understanding. + +The sun was still slanting over the tops of the houses the next morning +when Virginia, a ghostly figure, crept down the stairs and withdrew the +lock and bolt on the front door. The street was still, save for the +twittering of birds and the distant rumble of a cart in its early rounds. +The chill air of the morning made her shiver as she scanned the entry for +the newspaper. Dismayed, she turned to the clock in the hall. Its hands +were at quarter past five. + +She sat long behind the curtains in her father's little library, the +thoughts whirling in her brain as she watched the growing life of another +day. What would it bring forth? Once she stole softly back to the +entry, self-indulgent and ashamed, to rehearse again the bitter and +the sweet of that scene of the Sunday before. She summoned up the image +of the young man who had stood on these steps in front of the frightened +servants. She seemed to feel again the calm power and earnestness of his +face, to hear again the clear-cut tones of his voice as he advised her. +Then she drew back, frightened, into the sombre library, conscience- +stricken that she should have yielded to this temptation then, when +Clarence--She dared not follow the thought, but she saw the light skiff +at the mercy of the angry river and the dark night. + +This had haunted her. If he were spared, she prayed for strength to +consecrate herself to him A book lay on the table, and Virginia took +refuge in it. And her eyes. glancing over the pages, rested on this +verse:-- + + "Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums, + That beat to battle where he stands; + Thy face across his fancy comes, + And gives the battle to his hands." + +The paper brought no news, nor mentioned the ruse to which Captain Lyon +had resorted to elude the writ by transporting his prisoner to Illinois. +Newspapers were not as alert then as now. Colonel Carvel was off early +to the Arsenal in search of tidings. He would not hear of Virginia's +going with him. Captain Lige, with a surer instinct, went to the river. +What a morning of suspense! Twice Virginia was summoned to her aunt, and +twice she made excuse. It was the Captain who returned first, and she +met him at the door, + +"Oh, what have you heard?" she cried. + +"He is alive," said the Captain, tremulously, "alive and well, and +escaped South." + +She took a step toward him, and swayed. The Captain caught her. For a +brief instant he held her in his arms and then he led her to the great +armchair that was the Colonel's. + +"Lige," she said,--are you sure that this is not--a kindness?" + +"No, Jinny," he answered quickly, "but things were mighty close. I was +afraid last night. The river was roarin'. They struck out straight +across, but they drifted and drifted like log-wood. And then she began +to fill, and all five of 'em to bail. Then---then she went down. The +five soldiers came up on that bit of an island below the Arsenal. They +hunted all night, but they didn't find Clarence. And they got taken off +to the Arsenal this morning." + +"And how do you know?" she faltered. + +"I knew that much this morning," he continued, "and so did your pa. But +the Andrew Jackson is just in from Memphis, and the Captain tells me that +he spoke the Memphis packet off Cape Girardeau, and that Clarence was +aboard. She picked him up by a miracle, after he had just missed a round +trip through her wheel-house." + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +Most dangerous of gifts, the seeing of two sides of a quarrel +She could pass over, but never forgive what her aunt had said + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRISIS, V5, BY CHURCHILL *** + +********* This file should be named wc55w10.txt or wc55w10.zip ******** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, wc55w11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, wc55w10a.txt + +This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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