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diff --git a/6872-h/6872-h.htm b/6872-h/6872-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b7624c --- /dev/null +++ b/6872-h/6872-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17918 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Battle Ground, by Ellen Glasgow + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; fon +t-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Battle Ground, by Ellen Glasgow + +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 Battle Ground + +Author: Ellen Glasgow + + +Release Date: November, 2004 [EBook #6872] +This file was first posted on February 5, 2003 +Last Updated: March 15, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BATTLE GROUND *** + + + + +Text file produced by Wendy Crockett, Tiffany Vergon, Juliet +Sutherland, Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE BATTLE GROUND + </h1> + <h2> + By Ellen Glasgow + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0001}.jpg" alt="{0001}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0001}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <h4> + To <br /> <br /> The Beloved Memory of My Mother + </h4> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK FIRST — GOLDEN YEARS</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. — “DE HINE FOOT ER A HE FRAWG” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. — AT THE FULL OF THE MOON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. — THE COMING OF THE BOY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV — A HOUSE WITH AN OPEN DOOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. — THE SCHOOL FOR GENTLEMEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI. — COLLEGE DAYS </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> <b>BOOK SECOND — YOUNG BLOOD</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> I. — THE MAJOR'S CHRISTMAS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> II. — BETTY DREAMS BY THE FIRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> III. — DAN AND BETTY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> IV — LOVE IN A MAZE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> V. — THE MAJOR LOSES HIS TEMPER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> VI. — THE MEETING IN THE TURNPIKE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> VII. — IF THIS BE LOVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> VIII. — BETTY'S UNBELIEF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> IX. — THE MONTJOY BLOOD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> X. — THE ROAD AT MIDNIGHT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XI. — AT MERRY OAKS TAVERN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XII. — THE NIGHT OF FEAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XIII. — CRABBED AGE AND CALLOW YOUTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XIV. — THE HUSH BEFORE THE STORM </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> <b>BOOK THIRD — THE SCHOOL OF WAR</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> I. — HOW MERRY GENTLEMEN WENT TO WAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> II. — THE DAY'S MARCH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> III. — THE REIGN OF THE BRUTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> IV. — AFTER THE BATTLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> V. — THE WOMAN'S PART </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> VI. — ON THE ROAD TO ROMNEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> VII. — “I WAIT MY TIME” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> VIII. — THE ALTAR OF THE WAR GOD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> IX. — THE MONTJOY BLOOD AGAIN </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> <b>BOOK FOURTH — THE RETURN OF THE + VANQUISHED</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> I. — THE RAGGED ARMY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> II. — A STRAGGLER FROM THE RANKS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> III. — THE CABIN IN THE WOODS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> IV. — IN THE SILENCE OF THE GUNS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> V. — “THE PLACE THEREOF” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> VI. — THE PEACEFUL SIDE OF WAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> VII. — THE SILENT BATTLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> VIII. — THE LAST STAND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> IX. — IN THE HOUR OF DEFEAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> X. — ON THE MARCH AGAIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> XI. — THE RETURN </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK FIRST — GOLDEN YEARS + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. — “DE HINE FOOT ER A HE FRAWG” + </h2> + <p> + Toward the close of an early summer afternoon, a little girl came running + along the turnpike to where a boy stood wriggling his feet in the dust. + </p> + <p> + “Old Aunt Ailsey's done come back,” she panted, “an' she's conjured the + tails off Sambo's sheep. I saw 'em hanging on her door!” + </p> + <p> + The boy received the news with an indifference from which it blankly + rebounded. He buried one bare foot in the soft white sand and withdrew it + with a jerk that powdered the blackberry vines beside the way. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Virginia?” he asked shortly. + </p> + <p> + The little girl sat down in the tall grass by the roadside and shook her + red curls from her eyes. She gave a breathless gasp and began fanning + herself with the flap of her white sunbonnet. A fine moisture shone on her + bare neck and arms above her frock of sprigged chintz calico. + </p> + <p> + “She can't run a bit,” she declared warmly, peering into the distance of + the long white turnpike. “I'm a long ways ahead of her, and I gave her the + start. Zeke's with her.” + </p> + <p> + With a grunt the boy promptly descended from his heavy dignity. + </p> + <p> + “You can't run,” he retorted. “I'd like to see a girl run, anyway.” He + straightened his legs and thrust his hands into his breeches pockets. “You + can't run,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + The little girl flashed a clear defiance; from a pair of beaming hazel + eyes she threw him a scornful challenge. “I bet I can beat you,” she + stoutly rejoined. Then as the boy's glance fell upon her hair, her + defiance waned. She put on her sunbonnet and drew it down over her brow. + “I reckon I can run some,” she finished uneasily. + </p> + <p> + The boy followed her movements with a candid stare. “You can't hide it,” + he taunted; “it shines right through everything. O Lord, ain't I glad my + head's not red!” + </p> + <p> + At this pharisaical thanksgiving the little girl flushed to the ruffled + brim of her bonnet. Her sensitive lips twitched, and she sat meekly gazing + past the boy at the wall of rough gray stones which skirted a field of + ripening wheat. Over the wheat a light wind blew, fanning the even heads + of the bearded grain and dropping suddenly against the sunny mountains in + the distance. In the nearer pasture, where the long grass was strewn with + wild flowers, red and white cattle were grazing beside a little stream, + and the tinkle of the cow bells drifted faintly across the slanting + sunrays. It was open country, with a peculiar quiet cleanliness about its + long white roads and the genial blues and greens of its meadows. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't I glad, O Lord!” chanted the boy again. + </p> + <p> + The little girl stirred impatiently, her gaze fluttering from the + landscape. + </p> + <p> + “Old Aunt Ailsey's conjured all the tails off Sambo's sheep,” she + remarked, with feminine wile. “I saw 'em hanging on her door.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shucks! she can't conjure!” scoffed the boy. “She's nothing but a + free nigger, anyway—and besides, she's plum crazy—” + </p> + <p> + “I saw 'em hanging on her door,” steadfastly repeated the little girl. + “The wind blew 'em right out, an' there they were.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they wan't Sambo's sheep tails,” retorted the boy, conclusively, + “'cause Sambo's sheep ain't got any tails.” + </p> + <p> + Brought to bay, the little girl looked doubtfully up and down the + turnpike. “Maybe she conjured 'em <i>on</i> first,” she suggested at last. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're a regular baby, Betty,” exclaimed the boy, in disgust. “You'll + be saying next that she can make rattlesnake's teeth sprout out of the + ground.” + </p> + <p> + “She's got a mighty funny garden patch,” admitted Betty, still credulous. + Then she jumped up and ran along the road. “Here's Virginia!” she called + sharply, “an' I beat her! I beat her fair!” + </p> + <p> + A second little girl came panting through the dust, followed by a small + negro boy with a shining black face. “There's a wagon comin' roun' the + curve,” she cried excitedly, “an' it's filled with old Mr. Willis's + servants. He's dead, and they're sold—Dolly's sold, too.” + </p> + <p> + She was a fragile little creature, coloured like a flower, and her smooth + brown hair hung in silken braids to her sash. The strings of her white + pique bonnet lined with pink were daintily tied under her oval chin; there + was no dust on her bare legs or short white socks. + </p> + <p> + As she spoke there came the sound of voices singing, and a moment later + the wagon jogged heavily round a tuft of stunted cedars which jutted into + the long curve of the highway. The wheels crunched a loose stone in the + road, and the driver drawled a patient “gee-up” to the horses, as he + flicked at a horse-fly with the end of his long rawhide whip. There was + about him an almost cosmic good nature; he regarded the landscape, the + horses and the rocks in the road with imperturbable ease. + </p> + <p> + Behind him, in the body of the wagon, the negro women stood chanting the + slave's farewell; and as they neared the children, he looked back and + spoke persuasively. “I'd set down if I was you all,” he said. “You'd feel + better. Thar, now, set down and jolt softly.” + </p> + <p> + But without turning the women kept up their tremulous chant, bending their + turbaned heads to the imaginary faces upon the roadside. They had left + their audience behind them on the great plantation, but they still sang to + the empty road and courtesied to the cedars upon the way. Excitement + gripped them like a frenzy—and a childish joy in a coming change + blended with a mother's yearning over broken ties. + </p> + <p> + A bright mulatto led, standing at full height, and her rich notes rolled + like an organ beneath the shrill plaint of her companions. She was large, + deep-bosomed, and comely after her kind, and in her careless gestures + there was something of the fine fervour of the artist. She sang boldly, + her full body rocking from side to side, her bared arms outstretched, her + long throat swelling like a bird's above the gaudy handkerchief upon her + breast. + </p> + <p> + The others followed her, half artlessly, half in imitation, mingling with + their words grunts of self-approval. A grin ran from face to face as if + thrown by the grotesque flash of a lantern. Only a little black woman + crouching in one corner bowed herself and wept. + </p> + <p> + The children had fallen back against the stone wall, where they hung + staring. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Dolly!” they called cheerfully, and the woman answered with a + long-drawn, hopeless whine:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Gawd A'moughty bless you twel we + Meet agin.” + </pre> + <p> + Zeke broke from the group and ran a few steps beside the wagon, shaking + the outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + The driver nodded peaceably to him, and cut with a single stroke of his + whip an intricate figure in the sand of the road. “Git up an' come along + with us, sonny,” he said cordially; but Zeke only grinned in reply, and + the children laughed and waved their handkerchiefs from the wall. + “Good-by, Dolly, and Mirandy, and Sukey Sue!” they shouted, while the + women, bowing over the rolling wheels, tossed back a fragment of the song:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “We hope ter meet you in heaven, whar we'll + Part no mo', + Whar we'll part no mo'; + Gawd A'moughty bless you twel we + Me—et a—gin.” + </pre> + <p> + “Twel we meet agin,” chirped the little girls, tripping into the chorus. + </p> + <p> + Then, with a last rumble, the wagon went by, and Zeke came trotting back + and straddled the stone wall, where he sat looking down upon the loose + poppies that fringed the yellowed edge of the wheat. + </p> + <p> + “Dey's gwine way-way f'om hyer, Marse Champe,” he said dreamily. “Dey's + gwine right spang over dar whar de sun done come f'om.” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Minor bought 'em,” Champe explained, sliding from the wall, “and + he bought Dolly dirt cheap—I heard Uncle say so—” With a grin + he looked up at the small black figure perched upon the crumbling stones. + “You'd better look out how you steal any more of my fishing lines, or I'll + sell you,” he threatened. + </p> + <p> + “Gawd er live! I ain' stole one on 'em sence las' mont',” protested Zeke, + as he turned a somersault into the road, “en dat warn' stealin' 'case hit + warn' wu'th it,” he added, rising to his feet and staring wistfully after + the wagon as it vanished in a sunny cloud of dust. + </p> + <p> + Over the broad meadows, filled with scattered wild flowers, the sound of + the chant still floated, with a shrill and troubled sweetness, upon the + wind. As he listened the little negro broke into a jubilant refrain, + beating his naked feet in the dust:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Gawd A'moughty bless you twel we + Me—et a—gin.” + </pre> + <p> + Then he looked slyly up at his young master. + </p> + <p> + “I 'low dar's one thing you cyarn do, Marse Champe.” + </p> + <p> + “I bet there isn't,” retorted Champe. + </p> + <p> + “You kin sell me ter Marse Minor—but Lawd, Lawd, you cyarn mek mammy + leave off whuppin' me. You cyarn do dat widout you 'uz a real ole marster + hese'f.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon I can,” said Champe, indignantly. “I'd just like to see her lay + hands on you again. I can make mammy leave off whipping him, can't I, + Betty?” + </p> + <p> + But Betty, with a toss of her head, took her revenge. + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't so long since yo' mammy whipped you,” she rejoined. “An' I reckon + 'tain't so long since you needed it.” + </p> + <p> + As she stood there, a spirited little figure, in a patch of faint + sunshine, her hair threw a halo of red gold about her head. When she + smiled—and she smiled now, saucily enough—her eyes had a trick + of narrowing until they became mere beams of light between her lashes. Her + eyes would smile, though her lips were as prim as a preacher's. + </p> + <p> + Virginia gave a timid pull at Betty's frock. “Champe's goin' home with + us,” she said, “his uncle told him to—You're goin' home with us, + ain't you, Champe?” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't goin' home,” responded Betty, jerking from Virginia's grasp. She + stood warm yet resolute in the middle of the road, her bonnet swinging in + her hands. “I ain't goin' home,” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + Turning his back squarely upon her, Champe broke into a whistle of + unconcern. “You'd just better come along,” he called over his shoulder as + he started off. “You'd just better come along, or you'll catch it.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't comin',” answered Betty, defiantly, and as they passed away + kicking the dust before them, she swung her bonnet hard, and spoke aloud + to herself. “I ain't comin',” she said stubbornly. + </p> + <p> + The distance lengthened; the three small figures passed the wheat field, + stopped for an instant to gather green apples that had fallen from a stray + apple tree, and at last slowly dwindled into the white streak of the road. + She was alone on the deserted turnpike. + </p> + <p> + For a moment she hesitated, caught her breath, and even took three steps + on the homeward way; then turning suddenly she ran rapidly in the opposite + direction. Over the deepening shadows she sped as lightly as a hare. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a half mile, when her breath came in little pants, she + stopped with a nervous start and looked about her. The loneliness seemed + drawing closer like a mist, and the cry of a whip-poor-will from the + little stream in the meadow sent frightened thrills, like needles, through + her limbs. + </p> + <p> + Straight ahead the sun was setting in a pale red west, against which the + mountains stood out as if sculptured in stone. On one side swept the + pasture where a few sheep browsed; on the other, at the place where two + roads met, there was a blasted tree that threw its naked shadow across the + turnpike. Beyond the tree and its shadow a well-worn foot-path led to a + small log cabin from which a streak of smoke was rising. Through the open + door the single room within showed ruddy with the blaze of resinous pine. + </p> + <p> + The little girl daintily picked her way along the foot-path and through a + short garden patch planted in onions and black-eyed peas. Beside a bed of + sweet sage she faltered an instant and hung back. “Aunt Ailsey,” she + called tremulously, “I want to speak to you, Aunt Ailsey.” She stepped + upon the smooth round stone which served for a doorstep and looked into + the room. “It's me, Aunt Ailsey! It's Betty Ambler,” she said. + </p> + <p> + A slow shuffling began inside the cabin, and an old negro woman hobbled + presently to the daylight and stood peering from under her hollowed palm. + She was palsied with age and blear-eyed with trouble, and time had ironed + all the kink out of the thin gray locks that straggled across her brow. + She peered dimly at the child as one who looks from a great distance. + </p> + <p> + “I lay dat's one er dese yer ole hoot owls,” she muttered querulously, “en + ef'n 'tis, he des es well be a-hootin' along home, caze I ain' gwine be + pestered wid his pranks. Dar ain' but one kind er somebody es will sass + you at yo' ve'y do,' en dat's a hoot owl es is done loss count er de time + er day—” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't an owl, Aunt Ailsey,” meekly broke in Betty, “an' I ain't hootin' + at you—” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Ailsey reached out and touched her hair. “You ain' none er Marse + Peyton's chile,” she said. “I'se done knowed de Amblers sence de fu'st one + er dem wuz riz, en dar ain' never been a'er Ambler wid a carrot haid—” + </p> + <p> + The red ran from Betty's curls into her face, but she smiled politely as + she followed Aunt Ailsey into the cabin and sat down in a split-bottomed + chair upon the hearth. The walls were formed of rough, unpolished logs, + and upon them, as against an unfinished background, the firelight threw + reddish shadows of the old woman and the child. Overhead, from the + uncovered rafters, hung several tattered sheepskins, and around the great + fireplace there was a fringe of dead snakes and lizards, long since as dry + as dust. Under the blazing logs, which filled the hut with an almost + unbearable heat, an ashcake was buried beneath a little gravelike mound of + ashes. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Ailsey took up a corncob pipe from the stones and fell to smoking. + She sank at once into a senile reverie, muttering beneath her breath with + short, meaningless grunts. Warm as the summer evening was, she shivered + before the glowing logs. + </p> + <p> + For a time the child sat patiently watching the embers; then she leaned + forward and touched the old woman's knee. “Aunt Ailsey, O Aunt Ailsey!” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Ailsey stirred wearily and crossed her swollen feet upon the hearth. + </p> + <p> + “Dar ain' nuttin' but a hoot owl dat'll sass you ter yo' face,” she + muttered, and, as she drew her pipe from her mouth, the gray smoke circled + about her head. + </p> + <p> + The child edged nearer. “I want to speak to you, Aunt Ailsey,” she said. + She seized the withered hand and held it close in her own rosy ones. “I + want you—O Aunt Ailsey, listen! I want you to conjure my hair coal + black.” + </p> + <p> + She finished with a gasp, and with parted lips sat waiting. “Coal black, + Aunt Ailsey!” she cried again. + </p> + <p> + A sudden excitement awoke in the old woman's face; her hands shook and she + leaned nearer. “Hi! who dat done tole you I could conjure, honey?” she + demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you can, I know you can. You conjured back Sukey's lover from Eliza + Lou, and you conjured all the pains out of Uncle Shadrach's leg.” She fell + on her knees and laid her head in the old woman's lap. “Conjure quick and + I won't holler,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Gawd in heaven!” exclaimed Aunt Ailsey. Her dim old eyes brightened as + she gently stroked the child's brow with her palsied fingers. “Dis yer + ain' no way ter conjure, honey,” she whispered. “You des wait twel de full + er de moon, w'en de devil walks de big road.” She was wandering again + after the fancies of dotage, but Betty threw herself upon her. “Oh, change + it! change it!” cried the child. “Beg the devil to come and change it + quick.” + </p> + <p> + Brought back to herself, Aunt Ailsey grunted and knocked the ashes from + her pipe. “I ain' gwine ter ax no favors er de devil,” she replied + sternly. “You des let de devil alont en he'll let you alont. I'se done + been young, en I'se now ole, en I ain' never seed de devil stick his mouf + in anybody's bizness 'fo' he's axed.” + </p> + <p> + She bent over and raked the ashes from her cake with a lightwood splinter. + “Dis yer's gwine tase moughty flat-footed,” she grumbled as she did so. + </p> + <p> + “O Aunt Ailsey,” wailed Betty in despair. The tears shone in her eyes and + rolled slowly down her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Dar now,” said Aunt Ailsey, soothingly, “you des set right still en wait + twel ter-night at de full er de moon.” She got up and took down one of the + crumbling skins from the chimney-piece. “Ef'n de hine foot er a he frawg + cyarn tu'n yo' hyar decent,” she said, “dar ain' nuttin' de Lawd's done + made es'll do hit. You des wrop er hank er yo' hyar roun' de hine foot, + honey, en' w'en de night time done come, you teck'n hide it unner a rock + in de big road. W'en de devil goes a-cotin' at de full er de moon—en + he been cotin' right stiddy roun' dese yer parts—he gwine tase dat + ar frawg foot a mile off.” + </p> + <p> + “A mile off?” repeated the child, stretching out her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Lawd, he gwine tase dat ar frawg foot a mile off, en w'en he tase + hit, he gwine begin ter sniff en ter snuff. He gwine sniff en he gwine + snuff, en he gwine sniff en he gwine snuff twel he run right spang agin de + rock in de middle er de road. Den he gwine paw en paw twel he root de rock + clean up.” + </p> + <p> + The little girl looked up eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “An' my hair, Aunt Ailsey?” + </p> + <p> + “De devil he gwine teck cyar er yo' hyar, honey. W'en he come a-sniffin' + en a-snuffin' roun' de rock in de big road, he gwine spit out flame en + smoke en yo' hyar hit's gwine ter ketch en hit's gwine ter bu'n right + black. Fo' de sun up yo' haid's gwine ter be es black es a crow's foot.” + </p> + <p> + The child dried her tears and sprang up. She tied the frog's skin tightly + in her handkerchief and started toward the door; then she hesitated and + looked back. “Were you alive at the flood, Aunt Ailsey?” she politely + inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Des es live es I is now, honey.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must have seen Noah and the ark and all the animals?” + </p> + <p> + “Des es plain es I see you. Marse Noah? Why, I'se done wash en i'on Marse + Noah's shuts twel I 'uz right stiff in de j'ints. He ain' never let nobody + flute his frills fur 'im 'cep'n' me. Lawd, Lawd, Marse Peyton's shuts + warn' nuttin ter Marse Noah's!” + </p> + <p> + Betty's eyes grew big. “I reckon you're mighty old, Aunt Ailsey—'most + as old as God, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Ailsey pondered the question. “I ain' sayin' dat, honey,” she + modestly replied. + </p> + <p> + “Then you're certainly as old as the devil—you must be,” hopefully + suggested the little girl. + </p> + <p> + The old woman wavered. “Well, de devil, he ain' never let on his age,” she + said at last; “but w'en I fust lay eyes on 'im, he warn' no mo'n a brat.” + </p> + <p> + Standing upon the threshold for an instant, the child reverently regarded + her. Then, turning her back upon the fireplace and the bent old figure, + she ran out into the twilight. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. — AT THE FULL OF THE MOON + </h2> + <p> + By the light of the big moon hanging like a lantern in the topmost pine + upon a distant mountain, the child sped swiftly along the turnpike. + </p> + <p> + It was a still, clear evening, and on the summits of the eastern hills a + fringe of ragged firs stood out illuminated against the sky. In the warm + June weather the whole land was fragrant from the flower of the wild + grape. + </p> + <p> + When she had gone but a little way, the noise of wheels reached her + suddenly, and she shrank into the shadow beside the wall. A cloud of dust + chased toward her as the wheels came steadily on. They were evidently + ancient, for they turned with a protesting creak which was heard long + before the high, old-fashioned coach they carried swung into view—long + indeed before the driver's whip cracked in the air. + </p> + <p> + As the coach neared the child, she stepped boldly out into the road—it + was only Major Lightfoot, the owner of the next plantation, returning, + belated, from the town. + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0003}.jpg" alt="{0003}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0003}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + “W'at you doin' dar, chile?” demanded a stern voice from the box, and, at + the words, the Major's head was thrust through the open window, and his + long white hair waved in the breeze. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Betty?” he asked, in surprise. “Why, I thought it was the + duty of that nephew of mine to see you home.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't let him,” replied the child. “I don't like boys, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't, eh?” chuckled the Major. “Well, there's time enough for that, + I suppose. You can make up to them ten years hence,—and you'll be + glad enough to do it then, I warrant you,—but are you all alone, + young lady?” As Betty nodded, he opened the door and stepped gingerly + down. “I can't turn the horses' heads, poor things,” he explained; “but if + you will allow me, I shall have the pleasure of escorting you on foot.” + </p> + <p> + With his hat in his hand, he smiled down upon the little girl, his face + shining warm and red above his pointed collar and broad black stock. He + was very tall and spare, and his eyebrows, which hung thick and dark above + his Roman nose, gave him an odd resemblance to a bird of prey. The smile + flashed like an artificial light across his austere features. + </p> + <p> + “Since my arm is too high for you,” he said, “will you have my hand?—Yes, + you may drive on, Big Abel,” to the driver, “and remember to take out + those bulbs of Spanish lilies for your mistress. You will find them under + the seat.” + </p> + <p> + The whip cracked again above the fat old roans, and with a great creak the + coach rolled on its way. + </p> + <p> + “I—I—if you please, I'd rather you wouldn't,” stammered the + child. + </p> + <p> + The Major chuckled again, still holding out his hand. Had she been eighty + instead of eight, the gesture could not have expressed more deference. “So + you don't like old men any better than boys!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, sir, I do—heaps,” said Betty. She transferred the frog's + foot to her left hand, and gave him her right one. “When I marry, I'm + going to marry a very old gentleman—as old as you,” she added + flatteringly. + </p> + <p> + “You honour me,” returned the Major, with a bow; “but there's nothing like + youth, my dear, nothing like youth.” He ended sadly, for he had been a gay + young blood in his time, and the enchantment of his wild oats had + increased as he passed further from the sowing of them. He had lived to + regret both the loss of his gayety and the languor of his blood, and, as + he drifted further from the middle years, he had at last yielded to + tranquillity with a sigh. In his day he had matched any man in Virginia at + cards or wine or women—to say nothing of horseflesh; now his white + hairs had brought him but a fond, pale memory of his misdeeds and the + boast that he knew his world—that he knew all his world, indeed, + except his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, there's nothing like youth!” he sighed over to himself, and the child + looked up and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say that?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “You will know some day,” replied the Major. He drew himself erect in his + tight black broadcloth, and thrust out his chin between the high points of + his collar. His long white hair, falling beneath his hat, framed his ruddy + face in silver. “There are the lights of Uplands,” he said suddenly, with + a wave of his hand. + </p> + <p> + Betty quickened her pace to his, and they went on in silence. Through the + thick grove that ended at the roadside she saw the windows of her home + flaming amid the darkness. Farther away there were the small lights of the + negro cabins in the “quarters,” and a great one from the barn door where + the field hands were strumming upon their banjos. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon supper's ready,” she remarked, walking faster. “Yonder comes + Peter, from the kitchen with the waffles.” + </p> + <p> + They entered an iron gate that opened from the road, and went up a lane of + lilac bushes to the long stuccoed house, set with detached wings in a + grove of maples. “Why, there's papa looking for me,” cried the child, as a + man's figure darkened the square of light from the hall and came between + the Doric columns of the portico down into the drive. + </p> + <p> + “You won't have to search far, Governor,” called the Major, in his ringing + voice, and, as the other came up to him, he stopped to shake hands. “Miss + Betty has given me the pleasure of a stroll with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, it was like you, Major,” returned the other, heartily. “I'm afraid it + isn't good for your gout, though.” + </p> + <p> + He was a small, soldierly-looking man, with a clean-shaven, classic face, + and thick, brown hair, slightly streaked with gray. Beside the Major's + gaunt figure he appeared singularly boyish, though he held himself + severely to the number of his inches, and even added, by means of a + simplicity almost august, a full cubit to his stature. Ten years before he + had been governor of his state, and to his friends and neighbours the + empty honour, at least, was still his own. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! pooh!” the older man protested airily, “the gout's like a woman, my + dear sir—if you begin to humour it, you'll get no rest. If you deny + yourself a half bottle of port, the other half will soon follow. No, no, I + say—put a bold foot on the matter. Don't give up a good thing for + the sake of a bad one, sir. I remember my grandfather in England telling + me that at his first twinge of gout he took a glass of sherry, and at the + second he took two. 'What! would you have my toe become my master?' he + roared to the doctor. 'I wouldn't give in if it were my whole confounded + foot, sir!' Oh, those were ripe days, Governor!” + </p> + <p> + “A little overripe for the toe, I fear, Major.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, we're sober enough now, sir, sober enough and to spare. Even + the races are dull things. I've just been in to have a look at that new + mare Tom Bickels is putting on the track, and bless my soul, she can't + hold a candle to the Brown Bess I ran twenty years ago—you don't + remember Brown Bess, eh, Governor?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to be sure,” said the Governor. “I can see her as if it were + yesterday,—and a beauty she was, too,—but come in to supper + with us, my dear Major; we were just sitting down. No, I shan't take an + excuse—come in, sir, come in.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, thank you,” returned the Major. “Molly's waiting, and Molly + doesn't like to wait, you know. I got dinner at Merry Oaks tavern by the + way, and a mighty bad one, too, but the worst thing about it was that they + actually had the impudence to put me at the table with an abolitionist. + Why, I'd as soon eat with a darkey, sir, and so I told him, so I told + him!” + </p> + <p> + The Governor laughed, his fine, brown eyes twinkling in the gloom. “You + were always a man of your word,” he said; “so I must tell Julia to mend + her views before she asks you to dine. She has just had me draw up my will + and free the servants. There's no withstanding Julia, you know, Major.” + </p> + <p> + “You have an angel,” declared the other, “and she gets lovelier every day; + my regards to her,—and to her aunts, sir. Ah, good night, good + night,” and with a last cordial gesture he started rapidly upon his + homeward way. + </p> + <p> + Betty caught the Governor's hand and went with him into the house. As they + entered the hall, Uncle Shadrach, the head butler, looked out to reprimand + her. “Ef'n anybody 'cep'n Marse Peyton had cotch you, you'd er des been + lammed,” he grumbled. “An' papa was real mad!” called Virginia from the + table. + </p> + <p> + “That's jest a story!” cried Betty. Still clinging to her father's hand, + she entered the dining room; “that's jest a story, papa,” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm not angry,” laughed the Governor. “There, my dear, for heaven's + sake don't strangle me. Your mother's the one for you to hang on. Can't + you see what a rage she's in?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mr. Ambler,” remonstrated his wife, looking over the high old + silver service. She was very frail and gentle, and her voice was hardly + more than a clear whisper. “No, no, Betty, you must go up and wash your + face first,” she added decisively. + </p> + <p> + The Governor sat down and unfolded his napkin, beaming hospitality upon + his food and his family. He surveyed his wife, her two maiden aunts and + his own elder brother with the ineffable good humour he bestowed upon the + majestic home-cured ham fresh from a bath of Madeira. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you looking so well, my dear,” he remarked to his wife, + with a courtliness in which there was less polish than personality. “Ah, + Miss Lydia, I know whom to thank for this,” he added, taking up a pale tea + rosebud from his plate, and bowing to one of the two old ladies seated + beside his wife. “Have you noticed, Julia, that even the roses have become + more plentiful since your aunts did us the honour to come to us?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure the garden ought to be grateful to Aunt Lydia,” said his wife, + with a pleased smile, “and the quinces to Aunt Pussy,” she added quickly, + “for they were never preserved so well before.” + </p> + <p> + The two old ladies blushed and cast down their eyes, as they did every + evening at the same kindly by-play. “You know I am very glad to be of use, + my dear Julia,” returned Miss Pussy, with conscious virtue. Miss Lydia, + who was tall and delicate and bent with the weight of potential sanctity, + shook her silvery head and folded her exquisite old hands beneath the + ruffles of her muslin under-sleeves. She wore her hair in shining folds + beneath her thread-lace cap, and her soft brown eyes still threw a + youthful lustre over the faded pallor of her face. + </p> + <p> + “Pussy has always had a wonderful talent for preserving,” she murmured + plaintively. “It makes me regret my own uselessness.” + </p> + <p> + “Uselessness!” warmly protested the Governor. “My dear Miss Lydia, your + mere existence is a blessing to mankind. A lovely woman is never useless, + eh, Brother Bill?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bill, a stout and bashful gentleman, who never wasted words, merely + bowed over his plate, and went on with his supper. There was a theory in + the family—a theory romantic old Miss Lydia still hung hard by—that + Mr. Bill's peculiar apathy was of a sentimental origin. Nearly thirty + years before he had made a series of mild advances to his second cousin, + Virginia Ambler—and her early death before their polite vows were + plighted had, in the eyes of his friends, doomed the morose Mr. Bill to + the position of a perpetual mourner. + </p> + <p> + Now, as he shook his head and helped himself to chicken, Miss Lydia sighed + in sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid Mr. Bill must find us very flippant,” she offered as a gentle + reproof to the Governor. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bill started and cast a frightened glance across the table. Thirty + years are not as a day, and, after all, his emotion had been hardly more + than he would have felt for a prize perch that had wriggled from his line + into the stream. The perch, indeed, would have represented more + appropriately the passion of his life—though a lukewarm lover, he + was an ardent angler. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Brother Bill understands us,” cheerfully interposed the Governor. His + keen eyes had noted Mr. Bill's alarm as they noted the emptiness of Miss + Pussy's cup. “By the way, Julia,” he went on with a change of the subject, + “Major Lightfoot found Betty in the road and brought her home. The little + rogue had run away.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler filled Miss Pussy's cup and pressed Mr. Bill to take a slice + of Sally Lunn. “The Major is so broken that it saddens me,” she said, when + these offices of hostess were accomplished. “He has never been himself + since his daughter ran away, and that was—dear me, why that was + twelve years ago next Christmas. It was on Christmas Eve, you remember, he + came to tell us. The house was dressed in evergreens, and Uncle Patrick + was making punch.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Patrick was a hard drinker,” sighed Miss Lydia; “but he was a + citizen of the world, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I perfectly recall the evening,” said the Governor, + thoughtfully. “The young people were just forming for a reel and you and I + were of them, my dear,—it was the year, I remember, that the + mistletoe was brought home in a cart,—when the door opened and in + came the Major. 'Jane has run away with that dirty scamp Montjoy,' he + said, and was out again and on his horse before we caught the words. He + rode like a madman that night. I can see him now, splashing through the + mud with Big Abel after him.” + </p> + <p> + Betty came running in with smiling eyes, and fluttered into her seat. “I + got here before the waffles,” she cried. “Mammy said I wouldn't. Uncle + Shadrach, I got here before you!” + </p> + <p> + “Dat's so, honey,” responded Uncle Shadrach from behind the Governor's + chair. He was so like his master—commanding port, elaborate + shirt-front, and high white stock—that the Major, in a moment of + merry-making, had once dubbed him “the Governor's silhouette.” + </p> + <p> + “Say your grace, dear,” remonstrated Miss Lydia, as the child shook out + her napkin. “It's always proper to offer thanks standing, you know. I + remember your great-grandmother telling me that once when she dined at the + White House, when her father was in Congress, the President forgot to say + grace, and made them all get up again after they were seated. Now, for + what are we about—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, papa thanked for me,” cried Betty. “Didn't you, papa?” + </p> + <p> + The Governor smiled; but catching his wife's eyes, he quickly forced his + benign features into a frowning mask. + </p> + <p> + “Do as your aunt tells you, Betty,” said Mrs. Ambler, and Betty got up and + said grace, while Virginia took the brownest waffle. When the thanksgiving + was ended, she turned indignantly upon her sister. “That was just a sly, + mean trick!” she cried in a flash of temper. “You saw my eye on that + waffle!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, my dear,” murmured Miss Lydia. + </p> + <p> + “She's des an out'n out fire bran', dat's w'at she is,” said Uncle + Shadrach. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the Lord oughtn't to have let her take it just as I was thanking + Him for it!” sobbed Betty, and she burst into tears and left the table, + upsetting Mr. Bill's coffee cup as she went by. + </p> + <p> + The Governor looked gravely after her. “I'm afraid the child is really + getting spoiled, Julia,” he mildly suggested. + </p> + <p> + “She's getting a—a vixenish,” declared Mr. Bill, mopping his + expansive white waistcoat. + </p> + <p> + “You des better lemme go atter a twig er willow, Marse Peyton,” muttered + Uncle Shadrach in the Governor's ear. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, Shadrach,” retorted the Governor, which was the + harshest command he was ever known to give his servants. + </p> + <p> + Virginia ate her waffle and said nothing. When she went upstairs a little + later, she carried a pitcher of buttermilk for Betty's face. + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0002}.jpg" alt="{0002}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0002}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + “It isn't usual for a young lady to have freckles, Aunt Lydia says,” she + remarked, “and you must rub this right on and not wash it off till morning—and, + after you've rubbed it well in, you must get down on your knees and ask + God to mend your temper.” + </p> + <p> + Betty was lying in her little trundle bed, while Petunia, her small black + maid, pulled off her stockings, but she got up obediently and laved her + face in buttermilk. “I don't reckon there's any use about the other,” she + said. “I believe the Lord's jest leavin' me in sin as a warnin' to you and + Petunia,” and she got into her trundle bed and waited for the lights to go + out, and for the watchful Virginia to fall asleep. + </p> + <p> + She was still waiting when the door softly opened and her mother came in, + a lighted candle in her hand, the pale flame shining through her profile + as through delicate porcelain, and illumining her worn and fragile figure. + She moved with a slow step, as if her white limbs were a burden, and her + head, with its smoothly parted bright brown hair, bent like a lily that + has begun to fade. + </p> + <p> + She sat down upon the bedside and laid her hand on the child's forehead. + “Poor little firebrand,” she said gently. “How the world will hurt you!” + Then she knelt down and prayed beside her, and went out again with the + white light streaming upon her bosom. An hour later Betty heard her soft, + slow step on the gravelled drive and knew that she was starting on a + ministering errand to the quarters. Of all the souls on the great + plantation, the mistress alone had never rested from her labours. + </p> + <p> + The child tossed restlessly, beat her pillow, and fell back to wait more + patiently. At last the yellow strip under the door grew dark, and from the + other trundle bed there came a muffled breathing. With a sigh, Betty sat + up and listened; then she drew the frog's skin from beneath her pillow and + crept on bare feet to the door. It was black there, and black all down the + wide, old staircase. The great hall below was like a cavern underground. + Trembling when a board creaked under her, she cautiously felt her way with + her hands on the balustrade. The front door was fastened with an iron + chain that rattled as she touched it, so she stole into the dining room, + unbarred one of the long windows, and slipped noiselessly out. It was + almost like sliding into sunshine, the moon was so large and bright. + </p> + <p> + From the wide stone portico, the great white columns, looking grim and + ghostly, went upward to the roof, and beyond the steps the gravelled drive + shone hard as silver. As the child went between the lilac bushes, the + moving shadows crawled under her bare feet like living things. + </p> + <p> + At the foot of the drive ran the big road, and when she came out upon it + her trailing gown caught in a fallen branch, and she fell on her face. + Picking herself up again, she sat on a loosened rock and looked about her. + </p> + <p> + The strong night wind blew on her flesh, and she shivered in the + moonlight, which felt cold and brazen. Before her stretched the turnpike, + darkened by shadows that bore no likeness to the objects from which they + borrowed shape. Far as eye could see, they stirred ceaselessly back and + forth like an encamped army of grotesques. + </p> + <p> + She got up from the rock and slipped the frog's skin into the earth + beneath it. As she settled it in place, her pulses gave a startled leap, + and she stood terror-stricken beside the stone. A thud of footsteps was + coming along the road. + </p> + <p> + For an instant she trembled in silence; then her sturdy little heart took + courage, and she held up her hand. + </p> + <p> + “If you'll wait a minute, Mr. Devil, I'm goin' in,” she cried. + </p> + <p> + From the shadows a voice laughed at her, and a boy came forward into the + light—a half-starved boy, with a white, pinched face and a dusty + bundle swinging from the stick upon his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here?” he snapped out. + </p> + <p> + Betty gave back a defiant stare. She might have been a tiny ghost in the + moonlight, with her trailing gown and her flaming curls. + </p> + <p> + “I live here,” she answered simply. “Where do you live?” + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere.” He looked her over with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere?” + </p> + <p> + “I did live somewhere, but I ran away a week ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Did they beat you? Old Rainy-day Jones beat one of his servants and he + ran away.” + </p> + <p> + “There wasn't anybody,” said the boy. “My mother died, and my father went + off—I hope he'll stay off. I hate him!” + </p> + <p> + He sent the words out so sharply that Betty's lids flinched. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you come by here?” she questioned. “Are you looking for the + devil, too?” + </p> + <p> + The boy laughed again. “I am looking for my grandfather. He lives + somewhere on this road, at a place named Chericoke. It has a lot of elms + in the yard; I'll know it by that.” + </p> + <p> + Betty caught his arm and drew him nearer. “Why, that's where Champe + lives!” she cried. “I don't like Champe much, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I never saw him,” replied the boy; “but I don't like him—” + </p> + <p> + “He's mighty good,” said Betty, honestly; then, as she looked at the boy + again, she caught her breath quickly. “You do look terribly hungry,” she + added. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't had anything since—since yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + The little girl thoughtfully tapped her toes on the road. “There's a + currant pie in the safe,” she said. “I saw Uncle Shadrach put it there. + Are you fond of currant pie?—then you just wait!” + </p> + <p> + She ran up the carriage way to the dining-room window, and the boy sat + down on the rock and buried his face in his hands. His feet were set + stubbornly in the road, and the bundle lay beside them. He was dumb, yet + disdainful, like a high-bred dog that has been beaten and turned adrift. + </p> + <p> + As the returning patter of Betty's feet sounded in the drive, he looked up + and held out his hands. When she gave him the pie, he ate almost + wolfishly, licking the crumbs from his fingers, and even picking up a bit + of crust that had fallen to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry there isn't any more,” said the little girl. It had seemed a + very large pie when she took it from the safe. + </p> + <p> + The boy rose, shook himself, and swung his bundle across his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me the way?” he asked, and she gave him a few childish + directions. “You go past the wheat field an' past the maple spring, an' at + the dead tree by Aunt Ailsey's cabin you turn into the road with the + chestnuts. Then you just keep on till you get there—an' if you don't + ever get there, come back to breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + The boy had started off, but as she ended, he turned and lifted his hat. + </p> + <p> + “I am very much obliged to you,” he said, with a quaint little bow; and + Betty bobbed a courtesy in her nightgown before she fled back into the + house. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. — THE COMING OF THE BOY + </h2> + <p> + The boy trudged on bravely, his stick sounding the road. Sharp pains ran + through his feet where his shoes had worn away, and his head was swimming + like a top. The only pleasant fact of which he had consciousness was that + the taste of the currants still lingered in his mouth. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the maple spring, he swung himself over the stone wall and + knelt down for a drink, dipping the water in his hand. The spring was low + and damp and fragrant with the breath of mint which grew in patches in the + little stream. Overhead a wild grapevine was festooned, and he plucked a + leaf and bent it into a cup from which he drank. Then he climbed the wall + again and went on his way. + </p> + <p> + He was wondering if his mother had ever walked along this road on so + brilliant a night. There was not a tree beside it of which she had not + told him—not a shrub of sassafras or sumach that she had not carried + in her thoughts. The clump of cedars, the wild cherry, flowering in the + spring like snow, the blasted oak that stood where the branch roads met, + the perfume of the grape blossoms on the wall—these were as familiar + to him as the streets of the little crowded town in which he had lived. It + was as if nature had stood still here for twelve long summers, or as if he + were walking, ghostlike, amid the ever present memories of his mother's + heart. + </p> + <p> + His mother! He drew his sleeve across his eyes and went on more slowly. + She was beside him on the road, and he saw her clearly, as he had seen her + every day until last year—a bright, dark woman, with slender, + blue-veined hands and merry eyes that all her tears had not saddened. He + saw her in a long, black dress, with upraised arm, putting back a crepe + veil from her merry eyes, and smiling as his father struck her. She had + always smiled when she was hurt—even when the blow was heavier than + usual, and the blood gushed from her temple, she had fallen with a smile. + And when, at last, he had seen her lying in her coffin with her baby under + her clasped hands, that same smile had been fixed upon her face, which had + the brightness and the chill repose of marble. + </p> + <p> + Of all that she had thrown away in her foolish marriage, she had retained + one thing only—her pride. To the end she had faced her fate with all + the insolence with which she faced her husband. And yet—“the + Lightfoots were never proud, my son,” she used to say; “they have no false + pride, but they know their place, and in England, between you and me, they + were more important than the Washingtons. Not that the General wasn't a + great man, dear, he was a very great soldier, of course—and in his + youth, you know, he was an admirer of your Great-great-aunt Emmeline. But + she—why, she was the beauty and belle of two continents—there's + an ottoman at home covered with a piece of her wedding dress.” + </p> + <p> + And the house? Was the house still as she had left it on that Christmas + Eve? “A simple gentleman's home, my child—not so imposing as + Uplands, with its pillars reaching to the roof, but older, oh, much older, + and built of brick that was brought all the way from England, and over the + fireplace in the panelled parlour you will find the Lightfoot arms. + </p> + <p> + “It was in that parlour, dear, that grandmamma danced a minuet with + General Lafayette; it looks out, you know, upon a white thorn planted by + the General himself, and one of the windows has not been opened for fifty + years, because the spray of English ivy your Great-aunt Emmeline set out + with her own hands has grown across the sash. Now the window is quite dark + with leaves, though you can still read the words Aunt Emmeline cut with + her diamond ring in one of the tiny panes, when young Harry Fitzhugh came + in upon her just as she had written a refusal to an English earl. She was + sitting in the window seat with the letter in her hand, and, when your + Great-uncle Harry—she afterwards married him, you know—fell on + his knees and cried out that others might offer her fame and wealth, but + that he had nothing except love, she turned, with a smile, and wrote upon + the pane 'Love is best.' You can still see the words, very faint against + the ivy that she planted on her wedding day—” + </p> + <p> + Oh, yes, he knew it all—Great-aunt Emmeline was but the abiding + presence of the place. He knew the lawn with its grove of elms that + overtopped the peaked roof, the hall, with its shining floor and detached + staircase that crooked itself in the centre where the tall clock stood, + and, best of all, the white panels of the parlour where hung the portrait + of that same fascinating great-aunt, painted, in amber brocade, as Venus + with the apple in her hand. + </p> + <p> + And his grandmother, herself, in her stiff black silk, with a square of + lace turned back from her thin throat and a fluted cap above her corkscrew + curls—her daguerreotype, taken in all her pride and her precision, + was tied up in the bundle swinging on his arm. + </p> + <p> + He passed Aunt Ailsey's cabin, and turned into the road with the + chestnuts. A mile farther he came suddenly upon the house, standing amid + the grove of elms, dwarfed by the giant trees that arched above it. A + dog's bark sounded snappily from a kennel, but he paid no heed. He went up + the broad white walk, climbed the steps to the square front porch, and + lifted the great brass knocker. When he let it fall, the sound echoed + through the shuttered house. + </p> + <p> + The Major, who was sitting in his library with a volume of Mr. Addison + open before him and a decanter of Burgundy at his right hand, heard the + knock, and started to his feet. “Something's gone wrong at Uplands,” he + said aloud; “there's an illness—or the brandy is out.” He closed the + book, pushed aside the bedroom candle which he had been about to light, + and went out into the hall. As he unbarred the door and flung it open, he + began at once:— + </p> + <p> + “I hope there's no ill news,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + The boy came into the hall, where he stood blinking from the glare of the + lamplight. His head whirled, and he reached out to steady himself against + the door. Then he carefully laid down his bundle and looked up with his + mother's smile. + </p> + <p> + “You're my grandfather, and I'm very hungry,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The Major caught the child's shoulders and drew him, almost roughly, under + the light. As he towered there above him, he gulped down something in his + throat, and his wide nostrils twitched. + </p> + <p> + “So you're poor Jane's boy?” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + The boy nodded. He felt suddenly afraid of the spare old man with his long + Roman nose and his fierce black eyebrows. A mist gathered before his eyes + and the lamp shone like a great moon in a cloudy circle. + </p> + <p> + The Major looked at the bundle on the floor, and again he swallowed. Then + he stooped and picked up the thing and turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, sir, come in,” he said in a knotty voice. “You are at home.” + </p> + <p> + The boy followed him, and they passed the panelled parlour, from which he + caught a glimpse of the painting of Great-aunt Emmeline, and went into the + dining room, where his grandfather pulled out a chair and bade him to be + seated. As the old man opened the huge mahogany sideboard and brought out + a shoulder of cold lamb and a plate of bread and butter, he questioned him + with a quaint courtesy about his life in town and the details of his + journey. “Why, bless my soul, you've walked two hundred miles,” he cried, + stopping on his way from the pantry, with the ham held out. “And no money! + Why, bless my soul!” + </p> + <p> + “I had fifty cents,” said the boy, “that was left from my steamboat fare, + you know.” + </p> + <p> + The Major put the ham on the table and attacked it grimly with the + carving-knife. + </p> + <p> + “Fifty cents,” he whistled, and then, “you begged, I reckon?” + </p> + <p> + The boy flushed. “I asked for bread,” he replied, stung to the defensive. + “They always gave me bread and sometimes meat, and they let me sleep in + the barns where the straw was, and once a woman took me into her house and + offered me money, but I would not take it. I—I think I'd like to + send her a present, if you please, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “She shall have a dozen bottles of my best Madeira,” cried the Major. The + word recalled him to himself, and he got up and raised the lid of the + cellaret, lovingly running his hand over the rows of bottles. + </p> + <p> + “A pig would be better, I think,” said the boy, doubtfully, “or a cow, if + you could afford it. She is a poor woman, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Afford it!” chuckled the Major. “Why, I'll sell your grandmother's + silver, but I'll afford it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He took out a bottle, held it against the light, and filled a wine glass. + “This is the finest port in Virginia,” he declared; “there is life in + every drop of it. Drink it down,” and, when the boy had taken it, he + filled his own glass and tossed it off, not lingering, as usual, for the + priceless flavour. “Two hundred miles!” he gasped, as he looked at the + child with moist eyes over which his red lids half closed. “Ah, you're a + Lightfoot,” he said slowly. “I should know you were a Lightfoot if I + passed you in the road.” He carved a slice of ham and held it out on the + end of the knife. “It's long since you've tasted a ham like this—browned + in bread crumbs,” he added temptingly, but the boy gravely shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I've had quite enough, thank you, sir,” he answered with a quaint + dignity, not unlike his grandfather's and as the Major rose, he stood up + also, lifting his black head to look in the old man's face with his keen + gray eyes. + </p> + <p> + The Major took up the bundle and moved toward the door. “You must see your + grandmother,” he said as they went out, and he led the way up the crooked + stair past the old clock in the bend. On the first landing he opened a + door and stopped upon the threshold. “Molly, here is poor Jane's boy,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + In the centre of a big four-post bed, curtained in white dimity, a little + old lady was lying between lavender-scented sheets. On her breast stood a + tall silver candlestick which supported a well-worn volume of “The + Mysteries of Udolpho,” held open by a pair of silver snuffers. The old + lady's face was sharp and wizened, and beneath her starched white nightcap + rose the knots of her red flannel curlers. Her eyes, which were very small + and black, held a flickering brightness like that in live embers. + </p> + <p> + “Whose boy, Mr. Lightfoot?” she asked sharply. + </p> + <p> + Holding the child by the hand, the Major went into the room. + </p> + <p> + “It's poor Jane's boy, Molly,” he repeated huskily. + </p> + <p> + The old lady raised her head upon her high pillows, and looked at him by + the light of the candle on her breast. “Are you Jane's boy?” she + questioned in suspicion, and at the child's “Yes, ma'am,” she said, “Come + nearer. There, stand between the curtains. Yes, you are Jane's boy, I + see.” She gave the decision flatly, as if his parentage were a matter of + her pleasure. “And what is your name?” she added, as she snuffed the + candle. + </p> + <p> + The boy looked from her stiff white nightcap to the “log-cabin” quilt on + the bed, and then at her steel hoops which were hanging from a chair back. + He had always thought of her as in her rich black silk, with the tight + gray curls about her ears, and at this revelation of her inner mysteries, + his fancy received a checkmate. + </p> + <p> + But he met her eyes again and answered simply, “Dandridge—they call + me Dan—Dan Montjoy.” + </p> + <p> + “And he has walked two hundred miles, Molly,” gasped the Major. + </p> + <p> + “Then he must be tired,” was the old lady's rejoinder, and she added with + spirit: “Mr. Lightfoot, will you show Dan to Jane's old room, and see that + he has a blanket on his bed. He should have been asleep hours ago—good + night, child, be sure and say your prayers,” and as they crossed the + threshold, she laid aside her book and blew out her light. + </p> + <p> + The Major led the way to “Jane's old room” at the end of the hall, and + fetched a candle from somewhere outside. “I think you'll find everything + you need,” he said, stooping to feel the covering on the bed. “Your + grandmother always keeps the rooms ready. God bless you, my son,” and he + went out, softly closing the door after him. + </p> + <p> + The boy sat down on the steps of the tester bed, and looked anxiously + round the three-cornered room, with its sloping windows filled with small, + square panes of glass. By the candlelight, flickering on the plain, white + walls and simple furniture, he tried to conjure back the figure of his + mother,—handsome Jane Lightfoot. Over the mantel hung two crude + drawings from her hand, and on the table at the bedside there were several + books with her name written in pale ink on the fly leaves. The mirror to + the high old bureau seemed still to hold the outlines of her figure, very + shadowy against the greenish glass. He saw her in her full white skirts—she + had worn nine petticoats, he knew, on grand occasions—fastening her + coral necklace about her stately throat, the bands of her black hair drawn + like a veil above her merry eyes. Had she lingered on that last Christmas + Eve, he wondered, when her candlestick held its sprig of mistletoe and her + room was dressed in holly? Did she look back at the cheerful walls and the + stately furniture before she blew out her light and went downstairs to + ride madly off, wrapped in his father's coat? And the old people drank + their eggnog and watched the Virginia reel, and, when they found her gone, + shut her out forever. + </p> + <p> + Now, as he sat on the bed-steps, it seemed to him that he had come home + for the first time in his life. All this was his own by right,—the + queer old house, his mother's room, and beyond the sloping windows, the + meadows with their annual yield of grain. He felt the pride of it swelling + within him; he waited breathlessly for the daybreak when he might go out + and lord it over the fields and the cattle and the servants that were his + also. And at last—his head big with his first day's vanity—he + climbed between the dimity curtains and fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + When he awaked next morning, the sun was shining through the small square + panes, and outside were the waving elm boughs and a clear sky. He was + aroused by a knock on his door, and, as he jumped out of bed, Big Abel, + the Major's driver and confidential servant, came in with the warm water. + He was a strong, finely-formed negro, black as the ace of spades (so the + Major put it), and of a singularly open countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Hi! ain't you up yit, young Marster?” he exclaimed. “Sis Rhody, she sez + she done save you de bes' puffovers you ever tase, en ef'n you don' come + 'long down, dey'll fall right flat.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is Sis Rhody?” inquired the boy, as he splashed the water on his + face. + </p> + <p> + “Who she? Why, she de cook.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, tell her I'm coming,” and he dressed hurriedly and ran down + into the hall where he found Champe Lightfoot, the Major's great-nephew, + who lived at Chericoke. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” called Champe at once, plunging his hands into his pockets and + presenting an expression of eager interest. “When did you get here?” + </p> + <p> + “Last night,” Dan replied, and they stood staring at each other with two + pairs of the Lightfoot gray eyes. + </p> + <p> + “How'd you come?” + </p> + <p> + “I walked some and I came part the way on a steamboat. Did you ever see a + steamboat?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shucks! A steamboat ain't anything. I've seen George Washington's + sword. Do you like to fish?” + </p> + <p> + “I never fished. I lived in a city.” + </p> + <p> + Zeke came in with a can of worms, and Champe gave them the greater share + of his attention. “I tell you what, you'd better learn,” he said at last, + returning the can to Zeke and taking up his fishing-rod. “There're a lot + of perch down yonder in the river,” and he strode out, followed by the + small negro. + </p> + <p> + Dan looked after him a moment, and then went into the dining room, where + his grandmother was sitting at the head of her table, washing her pink + teaset in a basin of soapsuds. She wore her stiff, black silk this morning + with its dainty undersleeves of muslin, and her gray curls fell beneath + her cap of delicate yellowed lace. “Come and kiss me, child,” she said as + he entered. “Did you sleep well?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't wake once,” answered the boy, kissing her wrinkled cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Then you must eat a good breakfast and go to your grandfather in the + library. Your grandfather is a very learned man, Dan, he reads Latin every + morning in the library.—Cupid, has Rhody a freshly broiled chicken + for your young master?” + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0004}.jpg" alt="{0004}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0004}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + She got up and rustled about the room, arranging the pink teaset behind + the glass doors of the corner press. Then she slipped her key basket over + her arm and fluttered in and out of the storeroom, stopping at intervals + to scold the stream of servants that poured in at the dining-room door. + “Ef'n you don' min', Ole Miss, Paisley, she done got de colick f'om a hull + pa'cel er green apples,” and “Abram he's des a-shakin' wid a chill en he + say he cyarn go ter de co'n field.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute and be quiet,” the old lady responded briskly, for, as the + boy soon learned, she prided herself upon her healing powers, and suffered + no outsider to doctor her husband or her slaves. “Hush, Silas, don't say a + word until I tell you. Cupid—you are the only one with any sense—measure + Paisley a dose of Jamaica ginger from the bottle on the desk in the + office, and send Abram a drink of the bitters in the brown jug—why, + Car'line, what do you mean by coming into the house with a slit in your + apron?” + </p> + <p> + “Fo' de Lawd, Ole Miss, hit's des done cotch on de fence. All de ducks + Aun' Meeley been fattenin' up fur you done got loose en gone ter water.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you go, too, every one of you!” and she dismissed them with waves + of her withered, little hands. “Send them out, Cupid. No, Car'line, not a + word. Don't 'Ole Miss' me, I tell you!” and the servants streamed out + again as they had come. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished his breakfast the boy went back into the hall where + Big Abel was taking down the Major's guns from the rack, and, as he caught + sight of the strapping figure and kindly black face, he smiled for the + first time since his home-coming. With a lordly manner, he went over and + held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I like <i>you</i>, Big Abel,” he said gravely, and he followed him out + into the yard. + </p> + <p> + For the next few weeks he did not let Big Abel out of his sight. He rode + with him to the pasture, he sat with him on his doorstep of a fine + evening, and he drove beside him on the box when the old coach went out. + “Big Abel says a gentleman doesn't go barefooted,” he said to Champe when + he found him without his shoes in the meadow, “and I'm a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to know what Big Abel knows about it,” promptly retorted Champe, + and Dan grew white with rage and proceeded to roll up his sleeves. “I'll + whip any man who says Big Abel doesn't know a gentleman!” he cried, making + a lunge at his cousin. In point of truth, it was Champe who did the + whipping in such free fights; but bruises and a bleeding nose had never + scared the savage out of Dan. He would spring up from his last tumble as + from his first, and let fly at his opponent until Big Abel rushed, in + tears, between them. + </p> + <p> + From the garrulous negro, the boy soon learned the history of his family—learned, + indeed, much about his grandfather of which the Major himself was quite + unconscious. He heard of that kindly, rollicking early life, half wild and + wholly good-humoured, in which the eldest male Lightfoot had squandered + his time and his fortune. Why, was not the old coach itself but an + existing proof of Big Abel's stories? “'Twan' mo'n twenty years back dat + Ole Miss had de fines' car'ige in de county,” he began one evening on the + doorstep, and the boy drove away a brood of half-fledged chickens and + settled himself to listen. “Hadn't you better light your pipe, Big Abel?” + he inquired courteously. + </p> + <p> + Big Abel shuffled into the cabin and came back with his corncob pipe and a + lighted taper. “We all ain' rid in de ole coach den,” he said with a sigh, + as he sucked at the long stem, and threw the taper at the chickens. “De + ole coach hit uz th'owed away in de out'ouse, en I 'uz des stiddyin' 'bout + splittin' it up fer kindlin' wood—en de new car'ige hit cos' mos' a + mint er money. Ole Miss she uz dat sot up dat she ain' let de hosses git + no sleep—nor me nurr. Ef'n she spy out a speck er dus' on dem ar + wheels, somebody gwine year f'om it, sho's you bo'n—en dat somebody + wuz me. Yes, Lawd, Ole Miss she 'low dat dey ain' never been nuttin' like + dat ar car'ige in Varginny sence befo' de flood.” + </p> + <p> + “But where is it, Big Abel?” + </p> + <p> + “You des wait, young Marster, you des wait twel I git dar. I'se gwine git + dar w'en I come ter de day me an Ole Marster rid in ter git his gol' f'om + Mars Tom Braxton. De car'ige hit sutney did look spick en span dat day, en + I done shine up my hosses twel you could 'mos' see yo' face in dey sides. + Well, we rid inter town en we got de gol' f'om Marse Braxton,—all + tied up in a bag wid a string roun' de neck er it,—en we start out + agin (en Ole Miss she settin' up at home en plannin' w'at she gwine buy), + w'en we come ter de tave'n whar we all use ter git our supper, en meet + Marse Plaintain Dudley right face to face. Lawd! Lawd! I'se done knowed + Marse Plaintain Dudley afo' den, so I des tech up my hosses en wuz + a-sailin' 'long by, w'en he shake his han' en holler out, 'Is yer wife + done tied you ter 'er ap'on, Maje?' (He knowed Ole Miss don' w'ar no ap'on + des es well es I knowed hit—dat's Marse Plaintain all over agin); + but w'en he holler out dat, Ole Marster sez, 'Stop, Abel,' en I 'bleeged + ter stop, you know, I wuz w'en Ole Marster tell me ter. + </p> + <p> + “'I ain' tied, Plaintain, I'm tired,' sez Ole Marster, 'I'm tired losin' + money.' Den Marse Plaintain he laugh like a devil. 'Oh, come in, suh, come + in en win, den,' he sez, en Ole Marster step out en walk right in wid + Marse Plaintain behint 'im—en I set dar all night,—yes, suh, I + set dar all night a-hol'n' de hosses' haids. + </p> + <p> + “Den w'en de sun up out come Ole Marster, white es a sheet, with his han's + a-trem'lin', en de bag er gol' gone. I look at 'im fur a minute, en den I + let right out, 'Ole Marster, whar de gol'?' en he stan' still en ketch his + breff befo' he say, 'Hit's all gone, Abel, en de car'ige en de hosses + dey's gone, too.” En w'en I bust out cryin' en ax 'im, 'My hosses gone, + Ole Marster?' he kinder sob en beckon me fer ter git down f'om my box, en + den we put out ter walk all de way home. + </p> + <p> + “W'en we git yer 'bout'n dinner time, dar wuz Ole Miss at de do' wid de + sun in her eyes, en soon es she ketch sight er Ole Marster, she put up her + han' en holler out, 'Marse Lightfoot, whar de car'ige?' But Ole Marster, + he des hang down his haid, same es a dawg dat's done been whupped fur + rabbit runnin', en he sob, 'Hit's gone, Molly en de bag er gol' en de + hosses, dey's gone, too, I done loss 'em all cep'n Abel—en I'm a bad + man, Molly.' Dat's w'at Ole Marster say, 'I'm a bad man, Molly,' en I + stiddy 'bout my hosses en Ole Miss' car'ige en shet my mouf right tight.” + </p> + <p> + “And Grandma? Did she cry?” asked the boy, breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Who cry? Ole Miss? Huh! She des th'ow up her haid en low, 'Well, Marse + Lightfoot, I'm glad you kep' Abel—en we'll use de ole coach agin',' + sez she—en den she tu'n en strut right in ter dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Was that all she ever said about it, Big Abel?” + </p> + <p> + “Dat's all I ever hyern, honey, en I b'lieve hit's all Ole Marster ever + hyern eeder, case w'en I tuck his gun out er de rack de nex' day, he was + settin' up des es prim in de parlour a-sippin' a julep wid Marse Peyton + Ambler, en I hyern 'im kinder whisper, 'Molly, she's en angel, Peyton—' + en he ain' never call Ole Miss en angel twel he loss 'er car'ige.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV — A HOUSE WITH AN OPEN DOOR + </h2> + <p> + The master of Uplands was standing upon his portico behind the Doric + columns, looking complacently over the fat lands upon which his fathers + had sown and harvested for generations. Beyond the lane of lilacs and the + two silver poplars at the gate, his eyes wandered leisurely across the + blue green strip of grass-land to the tawny wheat field, where the slaves + were singing as they swung their cradles. The day was fine, and the + outlying meadows seemed to reflect his gaze with a smile as beneficent as + his own. He had cast his bread upon the soil, and it had returned to him + threefold. + </p> + <p> + As he stood there, a small, yet imposing figure, in his white duck suit, + holding his broad slouch hat in his hand, he presented something of the + genial aspect of the country—as if the light that touched the + pleasant hills and valleys was aglow in his clear brown eyes and comely + features. Even the smooth white hand in which he held his hat and + riding-whip had about it a certain plump kindliness which would best + become a careless gesture of concession. And, after all, he looked but + what he was—a bland and generous gentleman, whose heart was as open + as his wine cellar. + </p> + <p> + A catbird was singing in one of the silver poplars, and he waited, with + upraised head, for the song to end. Then he stooped beside a column and + carefully examined a newly planted coral honeysuckle before he went into + the wide hall, where his wife was seated at her work-table. + </p> + <p> + From the rear door, which stood open until frost, a glow of sunshine + entered, brightening the white walls with their rows of antlers and + gunracks, and rippling over the well-waxed floor upon which no drop of + water had ever fallen. A faint sweetness was in the air from the + honeysuckle arbour outside, which led into the box-bordered walks of the + garden. + </p> + <p> + As the Governor hung up his hat, he begun at once with his daily news of + the farm. “I hope they'll get that wheat field done to-day,” he said: “but + it doesn't look much like it—they've been dawdling over it for the + last three days. I am afraid Wilson isn't much of a manager, after all; if + I take my eyes off him, he seems to lose his head.” + </p> + <p> + “I think everything is that way,” returned his wife, looking up from one + of the elaborately tucked and hemstitched shirt fronts which served to + gratify the Governor's single vanity. “I'm sure Aunt Pussy says she can't + trust Judy for three days in the dairy without finding that the cream has + stood too long for butter—and Judy has been churning for twenty + years.” She cut off her thread and held the linen out for the Governor's + inspection. “I really believe that is the prettiest one I've made. How do + you like this new stitch?” + </p> + <p> + “Exquisite!” exclaimed her husband, as he took the shirt front in his + hand. “Simply exquisite, my love. There isn't a woman in Virginia who can + do such needlework; but it should go upon a younger and handsomer man, + Julia.” + </p> + <p> + His wife blushed and looked up at him, the colour rising to her beautiful + brow and giving a youthful radiance to her nunlike face. “It could + certainly go upon a younger man, Mr. Ambler,” she rejoined, with a touch + of the coquetry for which she had once been noted; “but I should like to + know where I'd find a handsomer one.” + </p> + <p> + A pleased smile broadened the Governor's face, and he settled his + waistcoat with an approving pat. “Ah, you're a partial witness, my dear,” + he said; “but I've an error to confess, so I mustn't forego your favour—I—I + bought several of Mr. Willis's servants, my love.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Ambler!” remonstrated his wife, reproach softening her voice + until it fell like a caress. “Why, Mr. Ambler, you bought six of Colonel + Blake's last year, you know and one of the house servants has been nursing + them ever since. The quarters are filled with infirm darkies.” + </p> + <p> + “But I couldn't help it, Julia, I really couldn't,” pleaded the Governor. + “You'd have done it yourself, my dear. They were sold to a dealer going + south, and one of them wants to marry that Mandy of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if it's Mandy's lover,” broke in Mrs. Ambler, with rising interest, + “of course you had to buy him, and you did right about the others—you + always do right.” She put out her delicate blue-veined hand and touched + his arm. “I shall see them to-day,” she added, “and Mandy may as well be + making her wedding dress.” + </p> + <p> + “What an eye to things you have,” said the Governor, proudly. “You might + have been President, had you been a man, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + His wife rose and took up her work-box with a laugh of protest. “I am + quite content with the mission of my sex, sir,” she returned, half in + jest, half in wifely humility. “I'm sure I'd much rather make shirt fronts + for you than wear them myself.” Then she nodded to him and went, with her + stately step, up the broad staircase, her white hand flitting over the + mahogany balustrade. + </p> + <p> + As he looked after her, the Governor's face clouded, and he sighed beneath + his breath. The cares she met with such serenity had been too heavy for + her strength; they had driven the bloom from her cheeks and the lustre + from her eyes; and, though she had not faltered at her task, she had + drooped daily and grown older than her years. The master might live with a + lavish disregard of the morrow, not the master's wife. For him were the + open house, the shining table, the well-stocked wine cellar and the + morning rides over the dewy fields; for her the cares of her home and + children, and of the souls and bodies of the black people that had been + given into her hands. In her gentle heart it seemed to her that she had a + charge to keep before her God; and she went her way humbly, her thoughts + filled with things so vital as the uses of her medicine chest and the + unexpounded mysteries of salvation. + </p> + <p> + Now, as she reached the upper landing, she met Betty running to look for + her. + </p> + <p> + “O, mamma, may I go to fish with Champe and the new boy and Big Abel? And + Virginia wants to go, too, she says.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, child,” said Mrs. Ambler. “You have torn the trimming on + your frock. Stand still and I'll mend it for you,” and she got out her + needle and sewed up the rent, while Betty hopped impatiently from foot to + foot. + </p> + <p> + “I think the new boy's a heap nicer than Champe, mamma,” she remarked as + she waited. + </p> + <p> + “Do you, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “An' he says I'm nicer than Champe, too. He fought Champe 'cause he said I + didn't have as much sense as he had—an' I have, haven't I, mamma?” + </p> + <p> + “Women do not need as much sense as men, my dear,” replied Mrs. Ambler, + taking a dainty stitch. + </p> + <p> + “Well, anyway, Dan fought Champe about it,” said Betty, with pride. “He'll + fight about 'most anything, he says, if he jest gets roused—an' that + cert'n'y did rouse him. His nose bled a long time, too, and Champe whipped + him, you know. But, when it was over, I asked him if I had as much sense + as he had, and he said, 'Psha! you're just a girl.' Wasn't that funny, + mamma?” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Betty,” was Mrs. Ambler's rejoinder. “I'm afraid he's a + wicked boy, and you mustn't get such foolish thoughts into your head. If + the Lord had wanted you to be clever, He would have made you a man. Now, + run away, and don't get your feet wet; and if you see Aunt Lydia in the + garden, you may tell her that the bonnet has come for her to look at.” + </p> + <p> + Betty bounded away and gave the message to Aunt Lydia over the whitewashed + fence of the garden. “They've sent a bonnet from New York for you to look + at, Aunt Lydia,” she cried. “It came all wrapped up in tissue paper, with + mamma's gray silk, and it's got flowers on it—a lot of them!” with + which parting shot, she turned her back upon the startled old lady and + dashed off to join the boys and Big Abel, who, with their fishing-poles, + had gathered in the cattle pasture. + </p> + <p> + Miss Lydia, who was lovingly bending over a bed of thyme, raised her eyes + and looked after the child, all in a gentle wonder. Then she went slowly + up and down the box-bordered walks, the full skirt of her “old lady's + gown” trailing stiffly over the white gravel, her delicate face rising + against the blossomless shrubs of snowball and bridal-wreath, like a + faintly tinted flower that had been blighted before it fully bloomed. + Around her the garden was fragrant as a rose-jar with the lid left off, + and the very paths beneath were red and white with fallen petals. Hardy + cabbage roses, single pink and white dailies, yellow-centred damask, and + the last splendours of the giant of battle, all dipped their colours to + her as she passed, while the little rustic summer-house where the walks + branched off was but a flowering bank of maiden's blush and microphylla. + </p> + <p> + Amid them all, Miss Lydia wandered in her full black gown, putting aside + her filmy ruffles as she tied back a hanging spray or pruned a broken + stalk, sometimes even lowering her thread lace cap as she weeded the + tangle of sweet Williams and touch-me-not. Since her gentle girlhood she + had tended bountiful gardens, and dreamed her virgin dreams in the purity + of their box-trimmed walks. In a kind of worldly piety she had bound her + prayer book in satin and offered to her Maker the incense of flowers. She + regarded heaven with something of the respectful fervour with which she + regarded the world—that great world she had never seen; for “the + proper place for a spinster is her father's house,” she would say with her + conventional primness, and send, despite herself, a mild imagination in + pursuit of the follies from which she so earnestly prayed to be delivered—she, + to whom New York was as the terror of a modern Babylon, and a Jezebel but + a woman with paint upon her cheeks. “They tell me that other women have + painted since,” she had once said, with a wistful curiosity. “Your + grandmamma, my dear Julia, had even seen one with an artificial colour. + She would not have mentioned it to me, of course,—an unmarried lady,—but + I was in the next room when she spoke of it to old Mrs. Fitzhugh. She was + a woman of the world, was your grandmamma, my dear, and the most finished + dancer of her day.” The last was said with a timid pride, though to Miss + Lydia herself the dance was the devil's own device, and the teaching of + the catechism to small black slaves the chief end of existence. But the + blood of the “most finished dancer of her day” still circulated beneath + the old lady's gown and the religious life, and in her attenuated romances + she forever held the sinner above the saint, unless, indeed, the sinner + chanced to be of her own sex, when, probably, the book would never have + reached her hands. For the purely masculine improprieties, her charity was + as boundless as her innocence. She had even dipped into Shakespeare and + brought away the memory of Mercutio; she had read Scott, and enshrined in + her pious heart the bold Rob Roy. “Men are very wicked, I fear,” she would + gently offer, “but they are very a—a—engaging, too.” + </p> + <p> + To-day, when Betty came with the message, she lingered a moment to + convince herself that the bonnet was not in her thoughts, and then swept + her trailing bombazine into the house. “I have come to tell you that you + may as well send the bonnet back, Julia,” she began at once. “Flowers are + much too fine for me, my dear. I need only a plain black poke.” + </p> + <p> + “Come up and try it on,” was Mrs. Ambler's cheerful response. “You have no + idea how lovely it will look on you.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lydia went up and took the bonnet out of its wrapping of tissue + paper. “No, you must send it back, my love,” she said in a resigned voice. + “It does not become me to dress as a married woman. It may as well go + back, Julia.” + </p> + <p> + “But do look in the glass, Aunt Lydia—there, let me put it straight + for you. Why, it suits you perfectly. It makes you look at least ten years + younger.” + </p> + <p> + “A plain black poke, my dear,” insisted Aunt Lydia, as she carefully + swathed the flowers in the tissue paper. “And, besides, I have my old one, + which is quite good enough for me, my love. It was very sweet of you to + think of it, but it may as well go back.” She pensively gazed at the + mirror for a moment, and then went to her chamber and took out her Bible + to read Saint Paul on Woman. + </p> + <p> + When she came down a few hours later, her face wore an angelic meekness. + “I have been thinking of that poor Mrs. Brown who was here last week,” she + said softly, “and I remember her telling me that she had no bonnet to wear + to church. What a loss it must be to her not to attend divine service.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler quickly looked up from her needlework. “Why, Aunt Lydia, it + would be really a charity to give her your old one!” she exclaimed. “It + does seem a shame that she should be kept away from church because of a + bonnet. And, then, you might as well keep the new one, you know, since it + is in the house; I hate the trouble of sending it back.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a charity,” murmured Miss Lydia, and the bonnet was brought + down and tried on again. They were still looking at it when Betty rushed + in and threw herself upon her mother. “O, mamma, I can't help it!” she + cried in tears, “an' I wish I hadn't done it! Oh, I wish I hadn't; but I + set fire to the Major's woodpile, and he's whippin' Dan!” + </p> + <p> + “Betty!” exclaimed Mrs. Ambler. She took the child by her shoulders and + drew her toward her. “Betty, did you set fire to the Major's woodpile?” + she questioned sternly. + </p> + <p> + Betty was sobbing aloud, but she stopped long enough to gasp out an + answer. + </p> + <p> + “We were playin' Injuns, mamma, an' we couldn't make believe 'twas real,” + she said, “an' it isn't any fun unless you can make believe, so I lit the + woodpile and pretended it was a fort, an' Big Abel, he was an Injun with + the axe for a tomahawk; but the woodpile blazed right up, an' the Major + came runnin' out. He asked Dan who did it, an' Dan wouldn't say 'twas me,—an' + I wouldn't say, either,—so he took Dan in to whip him. Oh, I wish + I'd told! I wish I'd told!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Betty,” said Mrs. Ambler, and she called to the Governor in the + hall, “Mr. Ambler, Betty has set fire to the Major's woodpile!” Her voice + was hopeless, and she looked up blankly at her husband as he entered. + </p> + <p> + “Set fire to the woodpile!” whistled the Governor. “Why, bless my soul, we + aren't safe in our beds!” + </p> + <p> + “He whipped Dan,” wailed Betty. + </p> + <p> + “We aren't safe in our beds,” repeated the Governor, indignantly. “Julia, + this is really too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you will have to ride right over there,” said his wife, decisively. + “Petunia, run down and tell Hosea to saddle his master's horse. Betty, I + hope this will be a lesson to you. You shan't have any preserves for + supper for a week.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want any preserves,” sobbed Betty, her apron to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Then you mustn't go fishing for two weeks. Mr. Ambler, you'd better be + starting at once, and don't forget to tell the Major that Betty is in + great distress—you are, aren't you, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am,” wept Betty. + </p> + <p> + The Governor went out into the hall and took down his hat and riding-whip. + </p> + <p> + “The sins of the children are visited upon the fathers,” he remarked + gloomily as he mounted his horse and rode away from his supper. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. — THE SCHOOL FOR GENTLEMEN + </h2> + <p> + The Governor rode up too late to avert the punishment. Dan had taken his + whipping and was sitting on a footstool in the library, facing the Major + and a couple of the Major's cronies. His face wore an expression in which + there was more resentment than resignation; for, though he took blows + doggedly, he bore the memory of them long after the smart had ceased—long, + indeed, after light-handed justice, in the Major's person, had forgotten + alike the sin and the expiation. For the Major's hand was not steady at + the rod, and he had often regretted a weakness of heart which interfered + with a physical interpretation of the wisdom of Solomon. “If you get your + deserts, you'd get fifty lashes,” was his habitual reproof to his + servants, though, as a matter of fact, he had never been known to order + one. His anger was sometimes of the kind that appalls, but it usually + vented itself in a heightened redness of face or a single thundering oath; + and a woman's sob would melt his stoniest mood. It was only because his + daughter had kept out of his sight that he had never forgiven her, people + said; but there was, perhaps, something characteristic in the proof that + he was most relentless where he had most loved. + </p> + <p> + As for Dan's chastisement, he had struck him twice across the shoulders, + and when the boy had turned to him with the bitter smile which was Jane + Lightfoot's own, the Major had choked in his wrath, and, a moment later, + flung the whip aside. “I'll be damned,—I beg your pardon, sir,—I'll + be ashamed of myself if I give you another lick,” he said. “You are a + gentleman, and I shall trust you.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his hand, but he had not counted on the Montjoy blood. The boy + looked at him and stubbornly shook his head. “I can't shake hands yet + because I am hating you just now,” he answered. “Will you wait awhile, + sir?” and the Major choked again, half in awe, half in amusement. + </p> + <p> + “You don't bear malice, I reckon?” he ventured cautiously. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” replied the boy, “I rather think I do.” + </p> + <p> + Then he put on his coat, and they went out to meet Mr. Blake and Dr. + Crump, two hale and jolly gentlemen who rode over every Thursday to spend + the night. + </p> + <p> + As the visitors came panting up the steps, the Major stood in the doorway + with outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + “You are late, gentlemen, you are late,” was his weekly greeting, to which + they as regularly responded, “We could never come too early for our + pleasure, my dear Major; but there are professional duties, you know, + professional duties.” + </p> + <p> + After this interchange of courtesies, they would enter the house and + settle themselves, winter or summer, in their favourite chairs upon the + hearth-rug, when it was the custom of Mrs. Lightfoot to send in a + fluttering maid to ask if Mrs. Blake had done her the honour to accompany + her husband. As Mrs. Blake was never known to leave her children and her + pet poultry, this was merely a conventionalism by which the elder lady + meant to imply a standing welcome for the younger. + </p> + <p> + On this evening, Mr. Blake—the rector of the largest church in + Leicesterburg—straightened his fat legs and folded his hands as he + did at the ending of his sermons, and the others sat before him with the + strained and reverential faces which they put on like a veil in church and + took off when the service was over. That it was not a prayer, but a + pleasantry of which he was about to deliver himself, they quite + understood; but he had a habit of speaking on week days in his Sunday + tones, which gave, as it were, an official weight to his remarks. He was a + fleshy wide-girthed gentleman, with a bald head, and a face as radiant as + the full moon. + </p> + <p> + “I was just asking the doctor when I was to have the honour of making the + little widow Mrs. Crump?” he threw out at last, with a laugh that shook + him from head to foot. “It is not good for man to live alone, eh, Major?” + </p> + <p> + “That sentence is sufficient to prove the divine inspiration of the + Scriptures,” returned the Major, warmly, while the doctor blushed and + stammered, as he always did, at the rector's mild matrimonial jokes. It + was twenty years since Mr. Blake began teasing Dr. Crump about his + bachelorship, and to them both the subject was as fresh as in its + beginning. + </p> + <p> + “I—I declare I haven't seen the lady for a week,” protested the + doctor, “and then she sent for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Sent for you?” roared Mr. Blake. “Ah, doctor, doctor!” + </p> + <p> + “She sent for me because she had heart trouble,” returned the doctor, + indignantly. The lady's name was never mentioned between them. + </p> + <p> + The rector laughed until the tears started. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you're a success with the ladies,” he exclaimed, as he drew out a + neatly ironed handkerchief and shook it free from its folds, “and no + wonder—no wonder! We'll be having an epidemic of heart trouble + next.” Then, as he saw the doctor wince beneath his jest, his kindly heart + reproached him, and he gravely turned to politics and the dignity of + nations. + </p> + <p> + The two friends were faithful Democrats, though the rector always began + his very forcible remarks with: “A minister knows nothing of politics, and + I am but a minister of the Gospel. If you care, however, for the opinion + of an outsider—” + </p> + <p> + As for the Major, he had other leanings which were a source of unending + interest to them all. “I am a Whig, not from principle, but from + prejudice, sir,” he declared. “The Whig is the gentleman's party. I never + saw a Whig that didn't wear broadcloth.” + </p> + <p> + “And some Democrats,” politely protested the doctor, with a glance at his + coat. + </p> + <p> + The Major bowed. + </p> + <p> + “And many Democrats, sir; but the Whig party, if I may say so, is the + broadcloth party—the cloth stamps it; and besides this, sir, I think + its 'parts are solid and will wear well.'” + </p> + <p> + Now when the Major began to quote Mr. Addison, even the rector was silent, + save for an occasional prompting, as, “I was reading the <i>Spectator</i> + until eleven last night, sir,” or “I have been trying to recall the lines + in <i>The Campaign</i> before. 'Twas then great Marlborough's mighty soul + was proved.” + </p> + <p> + This was the best of the day to Dan, and, as he turned on his footstool, + he did not even glare at Champe, who, from the window seat, was regarding + him with the triumphant eye with which the young behold the downfall of a + brother. For a moment he had forgotten the whipping, but Champe had not; + he was thinking of it in the window seat. + </p> + <p> + But the Major was standing on the hearth-rug, and the boy's gaze went to + him. Tossing back his long white hair, and fixing his eagle glance on his + friends, the old gentleman, with a free sweep of his arm, thundered his + favourite lines:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “So, when an angel by divine command + With rising tempests shakes a guilty land + (Such as of late o'er pale Britannia passed), + Calm and serene he drives the furious blast; + And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform, + Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.” + </pre> + <p> + He had got so far when the door opened and the Governor entered—a + little hurriedly, for he was thinking of his supper. + </p> + <p> + “I am the bearer of an apology, my dear Major,” he said, when he had + heartily shaken hands all round. “It seems that Betty—I assure you + she is in great distress—set fire to your woodpile this afternoon, + and that your grandson was punished for her mischief. My dear boy,” he + laid his hand on Dan's shoulder and looked into his face with the winning + smile which had made him the most popular man in his State, “my dear boy, + you are young to be such a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + A hot flush overspread Dan's face; he forgot the smart and the wounded + pride—he forgot even Champe staring from the window seat. The + Governor's voice was like salve to his hurt; the upright little man with + the warm brown eyes seemed to lift him at once to the plane of his own + chivalry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I couldn't tell on a girl, sir,” he answered, and then his smothered + injury burst forth; “but she ought to be ashamed of herself,” he added + bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “She is,” said the Governor with a smile; then he turned to the others. + “Major, the boy is a Lightfoot!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, so I said, so I said!” cried the Major, clapping his hand on Dan's + head in a racial benediction. “'I'd know you were a Lightfoot if I met you + in the road' was what I said the first evening.” + </p> + <p> + “And a Virginian,” added Mr. Blake, folding his hands on his stomach and + smiling upon the group. “My daughter in New York wrote to me last week for + advice about the education of her son. 'Shall I send him to the school of + learning at Cambridge, papa?' she asked; and I answered, 'Send him there, + if you will, but, when he has finished with his books, by all means let + him come to Virginia—the school for gentlemen.'” + </p> + <p> + “The school for gentlemen!” cried the doctor, delightedly. “It is a + prouder title than the 'Mother of Presidents.'” + </p> + <p> + “And as honourably earned,” added the rector. “If you want polish, come to + Virginia; if you want chivalry, come to Virginia. When I see these two + things combined, I say to myself, 'The blood of the Mother of Presidents + is here.'” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, sir, you are right!” cried the Major, shaking back his + hair, as he did when he was about to begin the lines from <i>The Campaign</i>. + “Nothing gives so fine a finish to a man as a few years spent with the + influences that moulded Washington. Why, some foreigners are perfected by + them, sir. When I met General Lafayette in Richmond upon his second visit, + I remember being agreeably impressed with his dignity and ease, which, I + have no doubt, sir, he acquired by his association, in early years, with + the Virginia gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor looked at them with a twinkle in his eye. He was aware of the + humorous traits of his friends, but, in the peculiar sweetness of his + temper, he loved them not the less because he laughed at them—perhaps + the more. In the rector's fat body and the Major's lean one, he knew that + there beat hearts as chivalrous as their words. He had seen the Major doff + his hat to a beggar in the road, and the rector ride forty miles in a + snowstorm to read a prayer at the burial of a slave. So he said with a + pleasant laugh, “We are surely the best judges, my dear sirs,” and then, + as Mrs. Lightfoot rustled in, they rose and fell back until she had taken + her seat, and found her knitting. + </p> + <p> + “I am so sorry not to see Mrs. Blake,” she said to the rector. “I have a + new recipe for yellow pickle which I must write out and send to her.” And, + as the Governor rose to go, she stood up and begged him to stay to supper. + “Mr. Lightfoot, can't you persuade him to sit down with us?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Where you have failed, Molly, it is useless for me to try,” gallantly + responded the Major, picking up her ball of yarn. + </p> + <p> + “But I must bear your pardon to my little girl, I really must,” insisted + the Governor. “By the way, Major,” he added, turning at the door, “what do + you think of the scheme to let the Government buy the slaves and ship them + back to Africa? I was talking to a Congressman about it last week.” + </p> + <p> + “Sell the servants to the Government!” cried the Major, hotly. “Nonsense! + nonsense! Why, you are striking at the very foundation of our society! + Without slavery, where is our aristocracy, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I beg your pardon,” said the Governor lightly. “Well, we shall keep + them a while longer, I expect. Good night, madam, good night, gentlemen,” + and he went out to where his horse was standing. + </p> + <p> + The Major looked after him with a sigh. “When I hear a man talking about + the abolition of slavery,” he remarked gloomily, “I always expect him to + want to do away with marriage next—” he checked himself and + coloured, as if an improper speech had slipped out in the presence of Mrs. + Lightfoot. The old lady rose primly and, taking the rector's arm, led the + way to supper. + </p> + <p> + Dan was not noticed at the table,—it was a part of his grandmother's + social training to ignore children before visitors,—but when he went + upstairs that night, the Major came to the boy's room and took him in his + arms. + </p> + <p> + “I am proud of you, my child,” he said. “You are my grandson, every inch + of you, and you shall have the finest riding horse in the stables on your + birthday.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd rather have Big Abel, if you please, sir,” returned Dan. “I think Big + Abel would like to belong to me, grandpa.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless my soul!” cried the Major. “Why, you shall have Big Abel and his + whole family, if you like. I'll give you every darky on the place, if you + want them—and the horses to boot,” for the old gentleman was as + unwise in his generosity as in his wrath. + </p> + <p> + “Big Abel will do, thank you,” responded the boy; “and I'd like to shake + hands now, grandpa,” he added gravely; but before the Major left that + night he had won not only the child's hand, but his heart. It was the + beginning of the great love between them. + </p> + <p> + For from that day Dan was as the light of his grandfather's eyes. As the + boy strode manfully across the farm, his head thrown back, his hands + clasped behind him, the old man followed, in wondering pride, on his + footsteps. To see him stand amid the swinging cradles in the wheat field, + ordering the slaves and arguing with the overseer, was sufficient delight + unto the Major's day. “Nonsense, Molly,” he would reply half angrily to + his wife's remonstrances. “The child can't be spoiled. I tell you he's too + fine a boy. I couldn't spoil him if I tried,” and once out of his + grandmother's sight, Dan's arrogance was laughed at, and his recklessness + was worshipped. “Ah, you will make a man, you will make a man!” the Major + had exclaimed when he found him swearing at the overseer, “but you mustn't + curse, you really mustn't, you know. Why, your grandmother won't let me do + it.” + </p> + <p> + “But I told him to leave that haystack for me to slide on,” complained the + boy, “and he said he wouldn't, and began to pull it down. I wish you'd + send him away, grandpa.” + </p> + <p> + “Send Harris away!” whistled the Major. “Why, where could I get another, + Dan? He has been with me for twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + “Hi, young Marster, who gwine min' de han's?” cried Big Abel, from behind. + </p> + <p> + “Do you like him, Big Abel?” asked the child, for the opinion of Big Abel + was the only one for which he ever showed respect. “It's because he's not + free, grandpa,” he had once explained at the Major's jealous questioning. + “I wouldn't hurt his feelings because he's not free, you know, and he + couldn't answer back,” and the Major had said nothing more. + </p> + <p> + Now “Do you like him, Big Abel?” he inquired; and to the negro's “He's + done use me moughty well, suh,” he said gravely, “Then he shall stay, + grandpa—and I'm sorry I cursed you, Harris,” he added before he left + the field. He would always own that he was wrong, if he could once be made + to see it, which rarely happened. + </p> + <p> + “The boy's kind heart will save him, or he is lost,” said the Governor, + sadly, as Dan tore by on his little pony, his black hair blown from his + face, his gray eyes shining. + </p> + <p> + “He has a kind heart, I know,” returned Mrs. Ambler, gently; “the servants + and the animals adore him—but—but do you think it well for + Betty to be thrown so much with him? He is very wild, and they deny him + nothing. I wish she went with Champe instead—but what do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, I don't know,” answered the Governor, uneasily. “He told + the doctor to mind his own business, yesterday—and that is not + unlike Betty, herself, I am sorry to say—but this morning I saw him + give his month's pocket money to that poor free negro, Levi. I can't say, + I really do not know,” his eyes followed Betty as she flew out to climb + behind Dan on the pony's back. “I wish it were Champe, myself,” he added + doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + For Betty—independent Betty—had become Dan's slave. Ever since + the afternoon of the burning woodpile, she had bent her stubborn little + knees to him in hero-worship. She followed closer than a shadow on his + footsteps; no tortures could wring his secrets from her lips. Once, when + he hid himself in the mountains for a day and night and played Indian, she + kept silence, though she knew his hiding-place, and a search party was out + with lanterns until dawn. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't tell,” she said triumphantly, when he came down again. + </p> + <p> + “No, you didn't tell,” he frankly acknowledged. + </p> + <p> + “So I can keep a secret,” she declared at last. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you can keep a secret—for a girl,” he returned, and added, + “I tell you what, I like you better than anybody about here, except + grandpa and Big Abel.” + </p> + <p> + She shone upon him, her eyes narrowing; then her face darkened. “Not + better than Big Abel?” she questioned plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I have to like Big Abel best,” he replied, “because he belongs to + me, you know—you ought to love the thing that belongs to you.” + </p> + <p> + “But I might belong to you,” suggested Betty. She smiled again, and, + smiling or grave, she always looked as if she were standing in a patch of + sunshine, her hair made such a brightness about her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you couldn't, you're white,” said Dan; “and, besides, I reckon Big + Abel and the pony are as much as I can manage. It's a dreadful weight, + having people belong to you.” + </p> + <p> + Then he loaded his gun, and Betty ran away with her fingers in her ears, + because she couldn't bear to have things killed. + </p> + <p> + A month later Dan and Champe settled down to study. The new tutor came—a + serious young man from the North, who wore spectacles, and read the Bible + to the slaves on the half-holidays. He was kindly and conscientious, and, + though the boys found him unduly weighed down by responsibility for the + souls of his fellows, they soon loved him in a light-hearted fashion. In a + society where even the rector harvested alike the true grain and the + tares, and left the Almighty to do His own winnowing, Mr. Bennett's + free-handed fight with the flesh and the devil was looked upon with + smiling tolerance, as if he were charging a windmill with a wooden sword. + </p> + <p> + On Saturdays he would ride over to Uplands, and discuss his schemes for + the uplifting of the negroes with the Governor and Mrs. Ambler; and once + he even went so far as to knock at Rainy-day Jones's door and hand him a + pamphlet entitled “The Duties of the Slaveholder.” Old Rainy-day, who was + the biggest bully in the county, set the dogs on him, and lit his pipe + with the pamphlet; but the Major, when he heard the story, laughed, and + called the young man “a second David.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bennett looked at him seriously through his glasses, and then his eyes + wandered to the small slave, Mitty, whose chief end in life was the + finding of Mrs. Lightfoot's spectacles. He was an earnest young man, but + he could not keep his eyes away from Mitty when she was in the room; and + at the old lady's, “Mitty, my girl, find me my glasses,” he felt like + jumping from his seat and calling upon her to halt. It seemed a survival + of the dark ages that one immortal soul should spend her life hunting for + the spectacles of another. To Mr. Bennett, a soul was a soul in any + colour; to the Major the sons of Ham were under a curse which the Lord + would lighten in His own good time. + </p> + <p> + But before many months, the young man had won the affection of the boys + and the respect of their grandfather, whose candid lack of logic was + overpowered by the reasons which Mr. Bennett carried at every finger tip. + He not only believed things, he knew why he believed them; and to the + Major, with whom feelings were convictions, this was more remarkable than + the courage with which he had handed his tract to old Rainy-day Jones. + </p> + <p> + As for Mr. Bennett, he found the Major a riddle that he could not read; + but the Governor's first smile had melted his reserve, and he declared + Mrs. Ambler to be “a Madonna by Perugino.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler had never heard of Perugino, and the word “Madonna” suggested + to her vague Romanist snares, but her heart went out to the stranger when + she found that he was in mourning for his mother. She was not a clever + woman in a worldly sense, yet her sympathy, from the hourly appeals to it, + had grown as fine as intellect. She was hopelessly ignorant of ancient + history and the Italian Renaissance; but she had a genius for the + affections, and where a greater mind would have blundered over a wound, + her soft hand went by intuition to the spot. It was very pleasant to sit + in a rosewood chair in her parlour, to hear her gray silk rustle as she + crossed her feet, and to watch her long white fingers interlace. + </p> + <p> + So she talked to the young man of his mother, and he showed her the + daguerrotype of the girl he loved; and at last she confided to him her + anxieties for Betty's manners and the Governor's health, and her timid + wonder that the Bible “countenanced” slavery. She was rare and elegant + like a piece of fine point lace; her hands had known no harder work than + the delicate hemstitching, and her mind had never wandered over the nearer + hills. + </p> + <p> + As time went on, Betty was given over to the care of her governess, and + she was allowed to run wild no more in the meadows. Virginia, a pretty + prim little girl, already carried her prayer book in her hands when she + drove to church, and wore Swiss muslin frocks in the evenings; but Betty + when she was made to hem tablecloths on sunny mornings, would weep until + her needle rusted. + </p> + <p> + On cloudy days she would sometimes have her ambitions to be ladylike, and + once, when she had gone to a party in town and seen Virginia dancing while + she sat against the wall, she had come home to throw herself upon the + floor. + </p> + <p> + “It's not that I care for boys, mamma,” she wailed, “for I despise them; + but they oughtn't to have let me sit against the wall. And none of them + asked me to dance—not even Dan.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are nothing but a child, Betty,” said Mrs. Ambler, in dismay. + “What on earth does it matter to you whether the boys notice you or not?” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't,” sobbed Betty; “but you wouldn't like to sit against the + wall, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “You can make them suffer for it six years hence, daughter,” suggested the + Governor, revengefully. + </p> + <p> + “But suppose they don't have anything to do with me then,” cried Betty, + and wept afresh. + </p> + <p> + In the end, it was Uncle Bill who brought her to her feet, and, in doing + so, he proved himself to be the philosopher that he was. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what, Betty,” he exclaimed, “if you get up and stop crying, + I'll give you fifty cents. I reckon fifty cents will make up for any boy, + eh?” + </p> + <p> + Betty lay still and looked up from the floor. + </p> + <p> + “I—I reckon a dol-lar m-i-g-h-t,” she gasped, and caught a sob + before it burst out. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you get up and I'll give you a dollar. There ain't many boys worth + a dollar, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Betty got up and held out one hand as she wiped her eyes with the other. + </p> + <p> + “I shall never speak to a boy again,” she declared, as she took the money. + </p> + <p> + That was when she was thirteen, and a year later Dan went away to college. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. — COLLEGE DAYS + </h2> + <p> + “My dear grandpa,” wrote Dan during his first weeks at college, “I think I + am going to like it pretty well here after I get used to the professors. + The professors are a great nuisance. They seem to forget that a fellow of + seventeen isn't a baby any longer. + </p> + <p> + “The Arcades are very nice, and the maples on the lawn remind me of those + at Uplands, only they aren't nearly so fine. My room is rather small, but + Big Abel keeps everything put away, so I manage to get along. Champe + sleeps next to me, and we are always shouting through the wall for Big + Abel. I tell you, he has to step lively now. + </p> + <p> + “The night after we came, we went to supper at Professor Ball's. There was + a Miss Ball there who had a pair of big eyes, but girls are so silly. + Champe talked to her all the evening and walked out to the graveyard with + her the next afternoon. I don't see why he wants to spend so much of his + time with young ladies. It's because they think him good-looking, I + reckon. + </p> + <p> + “We are the only men who have horses here, so I am glad you made me bring + Prince Rupert, after all. When I ride him into town, everybody turns to + look at him, and Batt Horsford, the stableman, says his trot is as clean + as a razor. At first I wished I'd brought my hunter instead, they made + such a fuss over Champe's, and I tell you he's a regular timber-topper. + </p> + <p> + “A week ago I rode to the grave of Mr. Jefferson, as I promised you, but I + couldn't carry the wreath for grandma because it would have looked silly—Champe + said so. However, I made Big Abel get down and pull a few flowers on the + way. + </p> + <p> + “You know, I had always thought that only gentlemen came to the + University, but whom do you think I met the first evening?—why, the + son of old Rainy-day Jones. What do you think of that? He actually had the + impudence to pass himself off as one of the real Joneses, and he was going + with all the men. Of course, I refused to shake hands with him—so + did Champe—and, when he wanted to fight me, I said I fought only + gentlemen. I wish you could have seen his face. He looked as old Rainy-day + did when he hit the free negro Levi, and I knocked him down. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, I wish you would please send me my half-year's pocket money + in a lump, if you can conveniently do so. There is a man here who is + working his way through Law, and his mother has just lost all her money, + so, unless some one helps him, he'll have to go out and work before he + takes his degree. I've promised to lend him my half-year's allowance—I + said 'lend' because it might hurt his feelings; but, of course, I don't + want him to pay it back. He's a great fellow, but I can't tell you his + name—I shouldn't like it in his place, you know. + </p> + <p> + “The worst thing about college life is having to go to classes. If it + wasn't for that I should be all right, and, anyway, I am solid on my Greek + and Latin—but I can't get on with the higher mathematics. Mr. + Bennett couldn't drive them into my head as he did into Champe's. + </p> + <p> + “I hope grandma has entirely recovered from her lumbago. Tell her Mrs. + Ball says she was cured by using red pepper plasters. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, by the way, that I left my half-dozen best waistcoats—the + embroidered ones—in the bottom drawer of my bureau, at least Big + Abel swears that's where he put them. I should be very much obliged if + grandma would have them fixed up and sent to me—I can't do without + them. A great many gentlemen here are wearing coloured cravats, and + Charlie Morson's brother, who came up from Richmond for a week, has a pair + of side whiskers. He says they are fashionable down there, but I don't + like them. + </p> + <p> + “With affectionate greeting to grandma and yourself, + </p> + <p> + “Your dutiful grandson, + </p> + <h3> + “DANDRIDGE MONTJOY.” + </h3> + <p> + “P.S. I am using my full name now—it will look better if I am ever + President. I wonder if Mr. Jefferson was ever called plain Tom. + </p> + <h3> + “DAN.” + </h3> + <p> + “N.B. Give my love to the little girls at Uplands. + </p> + <h3> + “D.” + </h3> + <p> + The Major read the letter aloud to his wife while she sat knitting by the + fireside, with Mitty holding the ball of yarn on a footstool at her feet. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that, Molly?” he asked when he had finished, his + voice quivering with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Red pepper plasters!” returned the old lady, contemptuously. “As if I + hadn't been making them for Cupid for the last twenty years. Red pepper + plasters, indeed! Why, they're no better than mustard ones. I reckon I've + made enough of them to know.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean that, Molly,” explained the Major, a little crestfallen. “I + was speaking of the letter. That's a fine letter, now, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “It might be worse,” admitted Mrs. Lightfoot, coolly; “but for my part, I + don't care to have my grandson upon terms of equality with any of that + rascal Jones's blood. Why, the man whips his servants.” + </p> + <p> + “But he isn't upon any terms, my dear. He refused to shake hands with him, + didn't you hear that? Perhaps I'd better read the letter again.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all very well, Mr. Lightfoot,” said his wife, clicking her + needles, “but it can't prevent his being in classes with him, all the + same. And I am sure, if I had known the University was so little select, I + should have insisted upon sending him to Oxford, where his + great-grandfather went before him.” + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious, Molly! You don't wish the lad was across the ocean, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “It matters very little where he is so long as he is a gentleman,” + returned the old lady, so sharply that Mitty began to unwind the worsted + rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Molly,” protested the Major, irritably, for he could not stand + opposition upon his own hearth-rug. “The boy couldn't be hurt by sitting + in the same class with the devil himself—nor could Champe, for that + matter. They are too good Lightfoots.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not uneasy about Champe,” rejoined his wife. “Champe has never been + humoured as Dan has been, I'm glad to say.” + </p> + <p> + The Major started up as red as a beet. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that I humour him, madam?” he demanded in a terrible voice. + </p> + <p> + “Do pray, Mr. Lightfoot, you will frighten Mitty to death,” said his wife, + reprovingly, “and it is really very dangerous for you to excite yourself + so—you remember the doctor cautioned you against it.” And, by the + time the Major was thoroughly depressed, she skilfully brought out her + point. “Of course you spoil the child to death. You know it as well as I + do.” + </p> + <p> + The Major, with the fear of apoplexy in his mind, had no answer on his + tongue, though a few minutes later he showed his displeasure by ordering + his horse and riding to Uplands to talk things over with the Governor. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid Molly is breaking,” he thought gloomily, as he rode along. + “She isn't what she was when I married her fifty years ago.” + </p> + <p> + But at Uplands his ill humour was dispelled. The Governor read the letter + and declared that Dan was a fine lad, “and I'm glad you haven't spoiled + him, Major,” he said heartily. “Yes, they're both fine lads and do you + honour.” + </p> + <p> + “So they do! so they do!” exclaimed the Major, delightedly. “That's just + what I said to Molly, sir. And Dan sends his love to the little girls,” he + added, smiling upon Betty and Virginia, who stood by. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” responded Virginia, prettily, looking at the old man + with her dovelike eyes; but Betty tossed her head—she had an + imperative little toss which she used when she was angry. “I am only three + years younger than he is,” she said, “and I'm not a little girl any longer—Mammy + has had to let down all my dresses. I am fourteen years old, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And quite a young lady,” replied the Major, with a bow. “There are not + two handsomer girls in the state, Governor, which means, of course, that + there are not two handsomer girls in the world, sir. Why, Virginia's eyes + are almost a match for my Aunt Emmeline's, and poets have immortalized + hers. Do you recall the verses by the English officer she visited in + prison?— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'The stars in Rebel skies that shine + Are the bright orbs of Emmeline.'” + </pre> + <p> + “Yes, I remember,” said the Governor. “Emmeline Lightfoot is as famous as + Diana,” then his quick eyes caught Betty's drooping head, “and what of + this little lady?” he asked, patting her shoulder. “There's not a brighter + smile in Virginia than hers, eh, Major?” + </p> + <p> + But the Major was not to be outdone when there were compliments to be + exchanged. + </p> + <p> + “Her hair is like the sunshine,” he began, and checked himself, for at the + first mention of her hair Betty had fled. + </p> + <p> + It was on this afternoon that she brewed a dye of walnut juice and carried + it in secret to her room. She had loosened her braids and was about to + plunge her head into the basin when Mrs. Ambler came in upon her. “Why, + Betty! Betty!” she cried in horror. + </p> + <p> + Betty turned with a start, wrapped in her shining hair. “It is the only + thing left to do, mamma,” she said desperately. “I am going to dye it. It + isn't ladylike, I know, but red hair isn't ladylike either. I have tried + conjuring, and it won't conjure, so I'm going to dye it.” + </p> + <p> + “Betty! Betty!” was all Mrs. Ambler could say, though she seized the basin + and threw it from the window as if it held poison. “If you ever let that + stuff touch your hair, I—I'll shave your head for you,” she declared + as she left the room; but a moment afterward she looked in again to add, + “Your grandmamma had red hair, and she was the beauty of her day—there, + now, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!” + </p> + <p> + So Betty smiled again, and when Virginia came in to dress for supper, she + found her parading about in Aunt Lydia's best bombazine gown. + </p> + <p> + “This is how I'll look when I'm grown up,” she said, the corner of her eye + on her sister. + </p> + <p> + “You'll look just lovely,” returned Virginia, promptly, for she always + said the sweetest thing at the sweetest time. + </p> + <p> + “And I'm going to look like this when Dan comes home next summer,” resumed + Betty, sedately. + </p> + <p> + “Not in Aunt Lydia's dress?” + </p> + <p> + “You goose! Of course not. I'm going to get Mammy to make me a Swiss + muslin down to the ground, and I'm going to wear six starched petticoats + because I haven't any hoops. I'm just wild to wear hoops, aren't you, + Virginia?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon so,” responded Virginia, doubtfully; “but it will be hard to sit + down, don't you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I know how,” said Betty. “Aunt Lydia showed me how to do it + gracefully. You give a little kick—ever so little and nobody sees it—and + then you just sink into your seat. I can do it well.” + </p> + <p> + “You were always clever,” exclaimed Virginia, as sweetly as before. She + was parting her satiny hair over her forehead, and the glass gave back a + youthful likeness of Mrs. Ambler. She was the beauty of the family, and + she knew it, which made her all the lovelier to Betty. + </p> + <p> + “I declare, your freckles are all gone,” she said, as her sister's head + looked over her shoulder. “I wonder if it is the buttermilk that has made + you so white?” + </p> + <p> + “It must be that,” admitted Betty, who had used it faithfully for the + sixty nights. “Aunt Lydia says it works wonders.” Then, as she looked at + herself, her eyes narrowed and she laughed aloud. “Why, Dan won't know + me,” she cried merrily. + </p> + <p> + But whatever hopes she had of Dan withered in the summer. When he came + home for the holidays, he brought with him an unmistakable swagger and a + supply of coloured neckerchiefs. On his first visit to Uplands he called + Virginia “my pretty child,” and said “Good day, little lady,” to Betty. He + carried himself like an Indian, as the Governor put it, and he was very + lithe and muscular, though he did not measure up to Champe by half a head. + It was the Montjoy blood in him, people thought, for the Lightfoots were + all of great height, and he had, too, a shock of his father's coarse black + hair, which flared stiffly above the brilliant Lightfoot eyes. As he + galloped along the turnpike on Prince Rupert, the travelling countrymen + turned to look after him, and muttered that “dare-devil Jack Montjoy had + risen from his grave—if he had a grave.” + </p> + <p> + Once he met Betty at the gate, and catching her up before him, dashed with + her as far as Aunt Ailsey's cabin and back again. “You are as light as a + fly,” he said with a laugh, “and not much bigger. There, take your hair + out of my eyes, or I'll ride amuck.” + </p> + <p> + Betty caught her hair in one hand and drew it across her breast. “This is + like—” she began gayly, and checked herself. She was thinking of + “that devil Jack Montjoy and Jane Lightfoot.” + </p> + <p> + “I must take my chance now,” said Dan, in his easy, masterful way. “You + will be too old for this by next year. Why, you will be in long dresses + then, and Virginia—have you noticed, by the way, what a beauty + Virginia is going to be?” + </p> + <p> + “She is just lovely,” heartily agreed Betty. “She's prettier than your + Great-aunt Emmeline, isn't she?” + </p> + <p> + “By George, she is. And I've been in love with Great-aunt Emmeline for ten + years because I couldn't find her match. I say, don't let anybody go off + with Virginia while I'm at college, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Betty, and though she smiled at him through her hair, + her smile was not so bright as it had been. It was all very well to hear + Virginia praised, she told herself, but she should have liked it better + had Dan been a little less emphatic. “I don't think any one is going to + run off with her,” she added gravely, and let the subject of her sister's + beauty pass. + </p> + <p> + But at the end of the week, when Dan went back to college, her loyal heart + reproached her, and she confided to Virginia that “he thought her a great + deal lovelier than Great-aunt Emmeline.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” asked Virginia, and determined to be very nice to him when he + came home for the holidays. + </p> + <p> + “But what does he say about you?” she inquired after a moment. + </p> + <p> + “About me?” returned Betty. “Oh, he doesn't say anything about me, except + that I am kind.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia stooped and kissed her. “You are kind, dear,” she said in her + sweetest voice. + </p> + <p> + And “kind,” after all, was the word for Betty, unless Big Abel had found + one when he said, “She is des all heart.” It was Betty who had tramped + three miles through the snow last Christmas to carry her gifts to the free + negro Levi, who was “laid up” and could not come to claim his share; and + it was Betty who had asked as a present for herself the lame boy Micah, + that belonged to old Rainy-day Jones. She had met Micah in the road, and + from that day the Governor's life was a burden until he sent the negro up + to her door on Christmas morning. There was never a sick slave or a + homeless dog that she would not fly out to welcome, bareheaded and a + little breathless, with the kindness brimming over from her eyes. “She has + her father's head and her mother's heart,” said the Major to his wife, + when he saw the girl going by with the dogs leaping round her and a young + fox in her arms. “What a wife she would make for Dan when she grows up! I + wish he'd fancy her. They'd be well suited, eh, Molly?” + </p> + <p> + “If he fancies the thing that is suited to him, he is less of a man than I + take him to be,” retorted Mrs. Lightfoot, with a cynicism which confounded + the Major. “He will lose his head over her doll baby of a sister, I + suppose—not that she isn't a good girl,” she added briskly. “Julia + Ambler couldn't have had a bad child if she had tried, though I confess I + am surprised that she could have helped having a silly one; but Betty, + why, there hasn't been a girl since I grew up with so much sense in her + head as Betty Ambler has in her little finger.” + </p> + <p> + “When I think of you fifty years ago, I must admit that you put a high + standard, Molly,” interposed the Major, who was always polite when he was + not angry. + </p> + <p> + “She spent a week with me while you were away,” Mrs. Lightfoot went on in + an unchanged voice, though with a softened face, “and, I declare, she kept + house as well as I could have done it myself, and Cupid says she washed + the pink teaset every morning with her own hands, and she actually cured + Rhody's lameness with a liniment she made out of Jimson weed. I tell you + now, Mr. Lightfoot, that, if I get sick, Betty Ambler is the only girl I'm + going to have inside the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, my dear,” said the Major, meekly, “I'll try to remember; and, + in that case, I reckon we'd as well drop a hint to Dan, eh, Molly?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot looked at him a moment in silence. Then she said “Humph!” + beneath her breath, and took up her knitting from the little table at her + side. + </p> + <p> + But Dan was living fast at college, and the Major's hints were thrown + away. He read of “the Ambler girls who are growing into real beauties,” + and he skipped the part that said, “Your grandmother has taken a great + fancy to Betty and enjoys having her about.” + </p> + <p> + “Here's something for you, Champe,” he remarked with a laugh, as he tossed + the letter upon the table. “Gather your beauties while you may, for I + prefer bull pups. Did Batt Horsford tell you I'd offered him twenty-five + dollars for that one of his?” + </p> + <p> + Champe picked up the letter and unfolded it slowly. He was a tall, slender + young fellow, with curling pale brown hair and fine straight features. His + face, in the strong light of the window by which he stood, showed a + tracery of blue veins across the high forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up about bull pups,” he said irritably. “You are as bad as a + breeder, and yet you couldn't tell that thoroughbred of John Morson's from + a cross with a terrier.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet I couldn't,” cried Dan, firing up; but Champe was reading the + letter, and a faint flush had risen to his face. “The girl is like a spray + of golden-rod in the sunshine,” wrote the Major, with his old-fashioned + rhetoric. + </p> + <p> + “What is it he says, eh?” asked Dan, noting the flush and drawing his + conclusions. + </p> + <p> + “He says that Aunt Molly and himself will meet us at the White Sulphur + next summer.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mean that. What is it he says about the girls; they are real + beauties aren't they? By the way, Champe, why don't you marry one of them + and settle down?” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you?” retorted Champe, as Dan got up and called to Big Abel to + bring his riding clothes. “Oh, I'm not a lady's man,” he said lightly. + “I've too moody a face for them,” and he began to dress himself with the + elaborate care which had won for him the title of “Beau” Montjoy. + </p> + <p> + By the next summer, Betty and Virginia had shot up as if in a night, but + neither Champe nor Dan came home. After weeks of excited preparation, the + Major and Mrs. Lightfoot started, with Congo and Mitty, for the White + Sulphur, where the boys were awaiting them. As the months went on, vague + rumours reached the Governor's ears—rumours which the Major did not + quite disprove when he came back in the autumn. “Yes, the boy is sowing + his wild oats,” he said; “but what can you expect, Governor? Why, he is + not yet twenty, and young blood is hot blood, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to hear that he has been losing at cards,” returned the + Governor; “but take my advice, and let him pick himself up when he falls + to hurt. Don't back him up, Major.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! pooh!” exclaimed the Major, testily. “You're like Molly, Governor, + and, bless my soul, one old woman is as much as I can manage. Why, she + wants me to let the boy starve.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor sighed, but he did not protest. He liked Dan, with all his + youthful errors, and he wanted to put out a hand to hold him back from + destruction; but he feared to bring the terrible flush to the Major's + face. It was better to leave things alone, he thought, and so sighed and + said nothing. + </p> + <p> + That was an autumn of burning political conditions, and the excited + slavery debates in the North were reechoing through the Virginia + mountains. The Major, like the old war horse that he was, had already + pricked up his ears, and determined to lend his tongue or his sword, as + his state might require. That a fight could go on in the Union so long as + Virginia or himself kept out of it, seemed to him a possibility little + less than preposterous. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't we fight the Revolution, sir? and didn't we fight the War of 1812? + and didn't we fight the Mexican War to boot?” he would demand. “And, bless + my soul, aren't we ready to fight all the Yankees in the universe, and to + whip them clean out of the Union, too? Why, it wouldn't take us ten days + to have them on their knees, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor did not laugh now; the times were too grave for that. His + clear eyes had seen whither they were drifting, and he had thrown his + influence against the tide, which, he knew, would but sweep over him in + the end. “You are out of place in Virginia, Major,” he said seriously. + “Virginia wants peace, and she wants the Union. Go south, my dear sir, go + south.” + </p> + <p> + During the spring before he had gone south himself to a convention at + Montgomery, and he had spoken there against one of the greatest of the + Southern orators. His state had upheld him, but the Major had not. He came + home to find his old neighbour red with resentment, and refusing for the + first few days to shake the hand of “a man who would tamper with the + honour of Virginia.” At the end of the week the Major's hand was held out, + but his heart still bore his grievance, and he began quoting William L. + Yancey, as he had once quoted Mr. Addison. In the little meetings at + Uplands or at Chericoke, he would now declaim the words of the impassioned + agitator as vigorously as in the old days he had recited those of the + polished gentleman of letters. The rector and the doctor would sit silent + and abashed, and only the Governor would break in now and then with: “You + go too far, Major. There is a step from which there is no drawing back, + and that step means ruin to your state, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Ruin, sir? Nonsense! nonsense! We made the Union, and we'll unmake it + when we please. We didn't make slavery; but, if Virginia wants slaves, by + God, sir, she shall have slaves!” + </p> + <p> + It was after such a discussion in the Governor's library that the old + gentleman rose one evening to depart in his wrath. “The man who sits up in + my presence and questions my right to own my slaves is a damned black + abolitionist, sir,” he thundered as he went, and by the time he reached + his coach he was so blinded by his rage that Congo, the driver, was + obliged to lift him bodily into his seat. “Dis yer ain' no way ter do, Ole + Marster,” said the negro, reproachfully. “How I gwine teck cyar you like + Ole Miss done tole me, w'en you let yo' bile git ter yo' haid like dis? + 'Tain' no way ter do, suh.” + </p> + <p> + The Major was too full for silence; and, ignoring the Governor, who had + hurried out to beseech him to return, he let his rage burst forth. + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it, Congo, I can't help it!” he said. “They want to take you + from me, do you hear? and that black Republican party up north wants to + take you, too. They say I've no right to you, Congo,—bless my soul, + and you were born on my own land!” + </p> + <p> + “Go 'way, Ole Marster, who gwine min' w'at dey say?” returned Congo, + soothingly. “You des better wrop dat ar neck'chif roun' yo' thoat er Ole + Miss'll git atter you sho' es you live!” + </p> + <p> + The Major wiped his eyes on the end of the neckerchief as he tied it about + his throat. “But, if they elect their President, he may send down an army + to free you,” he went on, with something like a sob of anger, “and I'd + like to know what we'd do then, Congo.” + </p> + <p> + “Lawd, Lawd, suh,” said Congo, as he wrapped the robe about his master's + knees. “Did you ever heah tell er sech doin's!” then, as he mounted the + box, he leaned down and called out reassuringly, “Don' you min', Ole + Marster, we'll des loose de dawgs on 'em, dat's w'at we'll do,” and they + rolled off indignantly, leaving the Governor half angry and half + apologetic upon his portico. + </p> + <p> + It was on the way home that evening that Congo spied in the sassafras + bushes beside the road a runaway slave of old Rainy-day Jones's, and + descended, with a shout, to deliver his brother into bondage. + </p> + <p> + “Hi, Ole Marster, w'at I gwine tie him wid?” he demanded gleefully. + </p> + <p> + The Major looked out of the window, and his face went white. + </p> + <p> + “What's that on his cheek, Congo?” he asked in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Dat's des whar dey done hit 'im, Ole Marster. How I gwine tie 'im?” + </p> + <p> + But the Major had looked again, and the awful redness rose to his brow. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up, you fool!” he said with a roar, as he dived under his seat and + brought out his brandy flask. “Give him a swallow of that—be quick, + do you hear? Pour it into your cup, sir, and give him that corn pone in + your pocket. I see it sticking out. There, now hoist him up beside you, + and, if I meet that rascal Jones, I'll blow his damn brains out!” + </p> + <p> + The Major doubtless would have fulfilled his oath as surely as his twelve + peers would have shaken his hand afterwards; but, by the time they came up + with Rainy-day a mile ahead, his wrath had settled and he had decided that + “he didn't want such dirty blood upon his hands.” + </p> + <p> + So he took a different course, and merely swore a little as he threw a + roll of banknotes into the road. “Don't open your mouth to me, you hell + hound,” he cried, “or I'll have you whipped clean out of this county, sir, + and there's not a gentleman in Virginia that wouldn't lend a hand. Don't + open your mouth to me, I tell you; here's the price of your property, and + you can stoop in the dirt to pick it up. There's no man alive that shall + question the divine right of slavery in my presence; but—but it is + an institution for gentlemen, and you, sir, are a damned scoundrel!” + </p> + <p> + With which the Major and old Rainy-day rode on in opposite ways. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK SECOND — YOUNG BLOOD + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. — THE MAJOR'S CHRISTMAS + </h2> + <p> + On Christmas Eve the great logs blazed at Chericoke. From the open door + the red light of the fire streamed through the falling snow upon the broad + drive where the wheel ruts had frozen into ribbons of ice. The naked + boughs of the old elms on the lawn tapped the peaked roof with twigs as + cold and bright as steel, and the two high urns beside the steps had an + iridescent fringe around their marble basins. + </p> + <p> + In the hall, beneath swinging sprays of mistletoe and holly, the Major and + his hearty cronies were dipping apple toddy from the silver punch bowl + half hidden in its wreath of evergreens. Behind them the panelled parlour + was aglow with warmth, and on its shining wainscoting Great-aunt Emmeline, + under her Christmas garland, held her red apple stiffly away from the + skirt of her amber brocade. + </p> + <p> + The Major, who had just filled the rector's glass, let the ladle fall with + a splash, and hurried to the open door. + </p> + <p> + “They're coming, Molly!” he called excitedly, “I hear their horses in the + drive. No, bless my soul, it's wheels! The Governor's here, Molly! Fill + their glasses at once—they'll be frozen through!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot, who had been watching from the ivied panes of the parlour, + rustled, with sharp exclamation, into the hall, and began hastily dipping + from the silver punch bowl. “I really think, Mr. Lightfoot, that the house + would be more comfortable if you'd be content to keep the front door + closed,” she found time to remark. “Do take your glass by the fire, Mr. + Blake; I declare, I positively feel the sleet in my face. Don't you think + it would be just as hospitable, Mr. Lightfoot, to open to them when they + knock?” + </p> + <p> + “What, keep the door shut on Christmas Eve, Molly!” exclaimed the Major + from the front steps, where the snow was falling on his bare head. “Why, + you're no better than a heathen. It's time you were learning your + catechism over again. Ah, here they are, here they are! Come in, ladies, + come in. The night is cold, but the welcome's warm.—Cupid, you fool, + bring an umbrella, and don't stand grinning there.—Here, my dear + Miss Lydia, take my arm, and never mind the weather; we've the best apple + toddy in Virginia to warm you with, and the biggest log in the woods for + you to look at. Ah, come in, come in,” and he led Miss Lydia, in her white + wool “fascinator,” into the house where Mrs. Lightfoot stood waiting with + open arms and the apple toddy. The Governor had insisted upon carrying his + wife, lest she chill her feet, and Betty and Virginia, in their long + cloaks, fluttered across the snow and up the steps. As they reached the + hall, the Major caught them in his arms and soundly kissed them. “It isn't + Christmas every day, you know,” he lamented ruefully, “and even our friend + Mr. Addison wasn't steeled against rosy cheeks, though he was but a poor + creature who hadn't been to Virginia. But come to the fire, come to the + fire. There's eggnog to your liking, Mr. Bill, and just a sip of this, + Miss Lydia, to warm you up. You may defy the wind, ma'am, with a single + sip of my apple toddy.” He seized the poker and, while Congo brought the + glasses, prodded the giant log until the flames leaped, roaring, up the + chimney and the wainscoting glowed deep red. + </p> + <p> + “What, not a drop, Miss Lydia?” he cried, in aggrieved tones, when he + turned his back upon the fire. + </p> + <p> + Miss Lydia shook her head, blushing as she untied her “fascinator.” She + was fond of apple toddy, but she regarded the taste as an indelicate one, + and would as soon have admitted, before gentlemen, a liking for cabbage. + </p> + <p> + “Don't drink it, dear,” she whispered to Betty, as the girl took her + glass; “it will give you a vulgar colour.” + </p> + <p> + Betty turned upon her the smile of beaming affection with which she always + regarded her family. She was standing under the mistletoe in her light + blue cloak and hood bordered with swan's-down, and her eyes shone like + lamps in the bright pallor of her face. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is delicious!” she said, with the pretty effusion the old man + loved. “It is better than my eggnog, isn't it, papa?” + </p> + <p> + “If anything can be better than your eggnog, my dear,” replied the + Governor, courteously, “it is the Major's apple toddy.” The Major bowed, + and Betty gave a merry little nod. “If you hadn't put it so nicely, I + should never have forgiven you,” she laughed; “but he always puts it + nicely, Major, doesn't he? I made him the other day a plum pudding of my + very own,—I wouldn't even let Aunt Floretta seed the raisins,—and + when it came on burnt, what do you think he said? Why, I asked him how he + liked it, and he thought for a minute and replied, 'My dear, it's the very + best burnt plum pudding I ever ate.' Now wasn't that dear of him?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but you should have heard how he put things when he was in politics,” + said the Major, refilling his glass. “On my word, he could make the truth + sound sweeter than most men could make a lie.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Major,” protested the Governor. “Julia, can't you induce our + good friend to forbear?” + </p> + <p> + “He knows I like to hear it,” said Mrs. Ambler, turning from a discussion + of her Christmas dinner with Mrs. Lightfoot. + </p> + <p> + “Then you shall hear it, madam,” declared the Major, “and I may as well + say at once that if the Governor hasn't told you about the reply he made + to Plaintain Dudley when he asked him for his political influence, you + haven't the kind of husband, ma'am, that Molly Lightfoot has got. Keep a + secret from Molly! Why, I'd as soon try to keep a keg full of brandy from + following an auger.” + </p> + <p> + “Auger, indeed!” exclaimed the little old lady, to whom the Major's + facetiousness was the only serious thing about him. “Your secrets are like + apples, sir, that hang to every passer-by, until I store them away. Auger, + indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “No offence, my dear,” was the Major's meek apology. “An auger is a very + useful implement, eh, Governor; and it's Plaintain Dudley, after all, that + we're concerned with. Do you remember Plaintain, Mrs. Ambler, a big ruddy + fellow, with ruffled shirts? Oh, he prided himself on his shirts, did + Plaintain!” + </p> + <p> + “A very becoming weakness,” said Mrs. Ambler, smiling at the Governor, who + was blushing above his tucks. + </p> + <p> + “Becoming? Well, well, I dare say,” admitted the Major. “Plaintain thought + so, at any rate. Why, I can see him now, on the day he came to the + Governor, puffing out his front, and twirling his white silk handkerchief. + 'May I ask your opinion of me, sir?' he had the audacity to begin, and the + Governor! Bless my soul, ma'am, the Governor bowed his politest bow, and + replied with his pleasantest smile, 'My opinion of you, sir, is that were + you as great a gentleman as you are a scoundrel, you would be a greater + gentleman than my Lord Chesterfield.' Those were his words, ma'am, on my + oath, those were his words!” + </p> + <p> + “But he was a scoundrel!” exclaimed the Governor. “Why, he swindled women, + Major. It was always a mystery to me how you tolerated him.” + </p> + <p> + “And a mystery to Mrs. Lightfoot,” responded the Major, in a half whisper; + “but as I tell her, sir, you mustn't judge a man by his company, or a + 'possum by his grin.” Then he raised a well-filled glass and gave a toast + that brought even Mr. Bill upon his feet, “To Virginia, the home of brave + men and,” he straightened himself, tossed back his hair, and bowed to the + ladies, “and of angels.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor raised his glass with a smile, “To the angels who take pity + upon the men,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “That more angels may take pity upon men,” added the rector, rising from + his seat by the fireside, with a wink at the doctor. + </p> + <p> + And the toast was drunk, standing, while the girls ran up the crooked + stair to lay aside their wraps in a three-cornered bedroom. + </p> + <p> + As Virginia threw off her pink cloak and twirled round in her flaring + skirts, Betty gave a little gasp of admiration and stood holding the + lighted candle, with its sprig of holly, above her head. The tall girlish + figure, in its flounces of organdy muslin, with the smooth parting of + bright brown hair and the dovelike eyes, had flowered suddenly into a + beauty that took her breath away. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are a vision—a vision!” she cried delightedly. + </p> + <p> + Virginia stopped short in her twirling and settled the illusion ruche over + her slim white shoulders. “It's the first time I've dressed like this, you + know,” she said, glancing at herself in the dim old mirror. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I'm not half so pretty,” sighed Betty, hopelessly, “Is the rose in + place, do you think?” She had fastened a white rose in the thick coil on + her neck, where it lay half hidden by her hair. + </p> + <p> + “It looks just lovely,” replied Virginia, heartily. “Do you hear some one + in the drive?” She went to the window, and looked out into the falling + snow, her bare shoulders shrinking from the frosted pane. “What a long + ride the boys have had, and how cold they'll be. Why, the ground is quite + covered with snow.” Betty, with the candle still in her hand, turned from + the mirror, and gave a quick glance through the sloping window, to the + naked elms outside. “Ah, poor things, poor things!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “But they have their riding cloaks,” said Virginia, in her placid voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mean Dan and Champe and Big Abel,” answered Betty, “I mean + the elms, the poor naked elms that wear their clothes all summer, and are + stripped bare for the cold. How I should like to warm you, you dear + things,” she added, going to the window. Against the tossing branches her + hair made a glow of colour, and her vivid face was warm with tenderness. + “And Jane Lightfoot rode away on a night like this!” she whispered after a + pause. + </p> + <p> + “She wore a muslin dress and a coral necklace, you know,” said Virginia, + in the same low tone, “and she had only a knitted shawl over her head when + she met Jack Montjoy at the end of the drive. He wrapped her in his cape, + and they rode like mad to the town—and she was laughing! Uncle + Shadrach met them in the road, and he says he heard her laughing in the + wind. She must have been very wicked, mustn't she, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + But Betty was looking into the storm, and did not answer. “I wonder if he + were in the least like Dan,” she murmured a moment later. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he had black hair, and Dan has that,” responded Virginia, lightly; + “and he had a square chin, and Dan has that, too. Oh, every one says that + Dan's the image of his father, except for the Lightfoot eyes. I'm glad he + has the Lightfoot eyes, anyway. Are you ready to go down?” + </p> + <p> + Betty was ready, though her face had grown a little grave, and with a last + look at the glass, they caught hands and went sedately down the winding + stair. + </p> + <p> + In the hall below they met Mrs. Lightfoot, who sent Virginia into the + panelled parlour, and bore Betty off to the kitchen to taste the sauce for + the plum pudding. “I can't do a thing on earth with Rhody,” she remarked + uneasily, throwing a knitted scarf over her head as they went from the + back porch along the covered way that led to the brick kitchen. “She + insists that yours is the only palate in all the country she will permit + to pass judgment upon her sauce. I made the Major try it, and he thinks it + needs a dash more of rum, but Rhody says she shan't be induced to change + it until she has had your advice. Here, Rhody, open the door; I've brought + your young lady.” + </p> + <p> + The door swung back with a jerk upon the big kitchen, where before the + Christmas turkeys toasting on the spit, Aunt Rhody was striding to and fro + like an Amazon in charcoal. From the beginning of the covered way they had + been guided by the tones of penetrant contempt, with which she lashed the + circle of house servants who had gathered to her assistance. “You des + lemme alont now,” was the advice she royally offered. “Ef you gwine ax me + w'at you'd better do, I des tell you right now, you'd better lemme alont. + Ca'line, you teck yo' eyes off dat ar roas' pig, er I'll fling dis yer + b'ilin' lard right spang on you. I ain' gwine hev none er my cookin' + conjured fo' my ve'y face. Congo, you shet dat mouf er yourn, er I'll shet + hit wid er flat-iron, en den hit'll be shet ter stay.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as Mrs. Lightfoot and Betty came in, she broke off, and wiped her + large black hands on her apron, before she waved with pride to the shelves + and tables bending beneath her various creations. “I'se done stuff dat ar + pig so full er chestnuts dat he's fitten ter bus',” she exclaimed proudly. + “Lawd, Lawd, hit's a pity he ain' 'live agin des ter tase hese'f!” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little pig,” said Betty, “he looks so small and pink, Aunt Rhody, I + don't see how you have the heart to roast him.” + </p> + <p> + “I'se done stuff 'im full,” returned Aunt Rhody, in justification. + </p> + <p> + “I hope he's well done, Rhody,” briskly broke in Mrs. Lightfoot; “and be + sure to bake the hams until the juice runs through the bread crumbs. Is + everything ready for to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Des es ready es ef 'twuz fer Kingdom Come, Ole Miss, en dar ain' gwine be + no better dinner on Jedgment Day nurr, I don' cyar who gwine cook hit. You + des tase dis yer sass—dat's all I ax, you des tase dis yer sass.” + </p> + <p> + “You taste it, Betty,” begged Mrs. Lightfoot, shrinking from the + approaching spoon; and Betty tasted and pronounced it excellent, “and + there never was an Ambler who wasn't a judge of 'sass,” she added. + </p> + <p> + Moved by the compliment, Aunt Rhody fell back and regarded the girl, with + her arms akimbo. “I d'clar, her eyes do des shoot fire,” she exclaimed + admiringly. “I dunno whar de beaux done hid deyse'ves dese days; hit's a + wonner dey ain' des a-busin' dey sides ter git yer. Marse Dan, now, whynt + he come a-prancin' roun' dese yer parts?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot looked at Betty and saw her colour rise. “That will do, + Rhody,” she cautioned; “you will let the turkeys burn,” but as they moved + toward the door, Betty herself paused and looked back. + </p> + <p> + “I gave your Christmas gift to Uncle Cupid, Aunt Rhody,” she said; “he put + it under the joists in your cabin, so you mustn't look at it till + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Lawd, chile, I'se done got Christmas gifts afo' now,” replied Aunt Rhody, + ungratefully, “en I'se done got a pa'cel er no count ones, too. Folks dey + give Christmas gifts same es de Lawd he give chillun—dey des han's + out w'at dey's got on dey han's, wid no stiddyin' 'bout de tase. Sakes er + live! Ef'n de Lawd hadn't hed a plum sight ter git rid er, he 'ouldn't er + sont Ca'line all dose driblets, fo' he'd done sont 'er a husban'.” + </p> + <p> + “Husban', huh!” exclaimed Ca'line, with a snort from the fireplace. + “Husban' yo'se'f! No mo' niggerisms fer me, ma'am!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, Ca'line,” said Mrs. Lightfoot, sternly; “and, Rhody, + you ought to be ashamed of yourself to talk so before your Miss Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “Husban', huh!” repeated the indignant Ca'line, under her breath. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongues, both of you,” cried the old lady, as she lifted her + silk skirt in both hands and swept from the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the house again, they heard the Major's voice, on its + highest key, demanding: “Molly! Why, bless my soul, what's become of + Molly?” He was calling from the front steps, and the sound of tramping + feet rang in the drive below. Against the whiteness of the storm Big + Abel's face shone in the light from the open door, and about him, as he + held the horses, Dan and Champe and a guest or two were dismounting upon + the steps. + </p> + <p> + As the old lady went forward, Champe rushed into the hall, and caught her + in his arms. + </p> + <p> + “On my word, you're so young I didn't know you,” he cried gayly. “If you + keep this up, Aunt Molly, there'll be a second Lightfoot beauty yet. You + grow prettier every day—I declare you do!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, you scamp,” said the old lady, flushing with pleasure, + “or there'll be a second Ananias as well. Here, Betty, come and wish this + bad boy a Merry Christmas.” + </p> + <p> + Betty looked round with a smile, but as she did so, her eyes went beyond + Champe, and saw Dan standing in the doorway, his soft slouch hat in his + hand, and a powdering of snow on his dark hair. He had grown bigger and + older in the last few months, and the Lightfoot eyes, with the Lightfoot + twinkle in their pupils, gave an expression of careless humour to his + pale, strongly moulded face. The same humour was in his voice even as he + held his grandfather's hand. + </p> + <p> + “By George, we're glad to get here,” was his greeting. “Morson's been + cursing our hospitality for the last three miles. Grandpa, this is my + friend Morson—Jack Morson, you've heard me speak of him; and this is + Bland Diggs, you know of him, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to be sure, to be sure,” cried the Major, heartily, as he held out + both hands. “You're welcome, gentlemen, as welcome as Christmas—what + more can I say? But come in, come in to the fire. Cupid, the glasses!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the ladies first,” suggested Dan, lightly; “grace before meat, you + know. So here you are, grandma, cap and all. And Virginia;—ye gods!—is + this little Virginia?” + </p> + <p> + His laughing eyes were on her as she stood, tall and lovely, beneath a + Christmas garland, and with the laughter still in them, they blazed with + approval of her beauty. “Oh, but do you know, how did you do it?” he + demanded with his blithe confidence, as if it mattered very little how his + words were met. + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't any trouble, believe me,” responded Virginia, blushing, “not + half so much trouble as you took to tie your neckerchief.” + </p> + <p> + Dan's hand went to his throat. “Then I may presume that it is mere natural + genius,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Genius, to grow tall?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, just that—to grow tall,” then he caught sight of Betty, + and held out his hand again. “And you, little comrade, you haven't grown + up to the world, I see.” + </p> + <p> + Betty laughed and looked him over with the smile the Major loved. “I + content myself with merely growing up to you,” she returned. + </p> + <p> + “Up to me? Why, you barely reach my shoulder.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, up to the greater part of you, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, up to my heart,” said Dan, and Betty coloured beneath the twinkle in + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + The colour was still in her face when the Major came out, with Mrs. Ambler + on his arm, and led the way to supper. + </p> + <p> + “All of us are hungry, and some of us have a day's ride behind us,” he + remarked, as, after the rector's grace, he stood waving the carving-knife + above the roasted turkey. “I'd like to know how often during the last hour + you've thought of this turkey, Mr. Morson?” + </p> + <p> + “It has had a fair share of my thoughts, I'm forced to admit, Major,” + responded Jack Morson, readily. He was a hearty, light-haired young + fellow, with a girlish complexion and pale blue eyes, as round as marbles. + “As fair a share as the apple toddy has had of Diggs's, I'll be bound.” + </p> + <p> + “Apple toddy!” protested Diggs, turning his serious face, flushed from the + long ride, upon the Major. “I was too busy thinking we should never get + here; and we were lost once, weren't we, Beau?” he asked of Dan. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I for one am safely housed for the night, doctor,” declared the + rector, with an uneasy glance through the window, “and I trust that Mrs. + Blake's reproach will melt before the snow does. But what's that about + being lost, Dan?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we got off the road,” replied Dan; “but I gave Prince Rupert the rein + and he brought us in. The sense that horse has got makes me fairly ashamed + of going to college in his place; and I may as well warn you, Mr. Blake, + that when I get ready to go to Heaven, I shan't seek your guidance at all—I'll + merely nose Prince Rupert at the Bible and give him his head.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a comfort to know, at least, that you won't be trusting to your own + deserts, my boy,” responded the rector, who dearly loved his joke, as he + helped himself to yellow pickle. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope that the straight and narrow way is a little clearer than the + tavern road to-night,” said Champe. “I'm afraid you'll have trouble + getting back, Governor.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid!” took up the Major, before the Governor could reply. “Why, where + are your manners, my lad? It will be no ill wind that keeps them beneath + our roof. We'll make room for you, ladies, never fear; the house will + stretch itself to fit the welcome, eh, Molly?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot, looking a little anxious, put forward a hearty assent; but + the Governor laughed and threw back the Major's hospitality as easily as + it was proffered. + </p> + <p> + “I know that your welcome's big enough to hold us, my dear Major,” he + said; “but Hosea's driving us, you see, and he could take us along the + turnpike blindfold. Why, he actually discovered in passing just before the + storm that somebody had dug up a sugar berry bush from the corner of your + old rail fence.” + </p> + <p> + “And we really must get back,” insisted Mrs. Ambler, “we haven't even + fixed the servants' Christmas, and Betty has to fill the stockings for the + children in the quarters.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if you will go, go you shall,” cried the Major, as heartily as he + had pressed his invitation. “You shall get back, ma'am, if I have to go + before you with a shovel and clear the snow away. So just a bit more of + this roast pig, just a bit, Governor. My dear Miss Lydia, I beg you to try + that spiced beef—and you, Mr. Bill?—Cupid, Mr. Bill will have + a piece of roast pig.” + </p> + <p> + By the time the Tokay was opened, the Major had grown very jolly, and he + began to exchange jokes with the Governor and the rector. Mr. Bill and the + doctor, neither of whom could have told a story for his life, listened + with a kind of heavy gravity; and the young men, as they rattled off a + college tale or two, kept their eyes on Betty and Virginia. + </p> + <p> + Betty, leaning back in her high mahogany chair, and now and then putting + in a word with the bright effusion which belonged to her, gave ear half to + the Major's anecdotes, and half to a jest of Jack Morson's. Before her + branched a silver candelabrum, and beyond it, with the light in his face, + Dan was sitting. She watched him with a frank curiosity from eyes, where + the smile, with which she had answered the Major, still lingered in a + gleam of merriment. There was a puzzled wonder in her mind that Dan—the + Dan of her childhood—should have become for her, of a sudden, but a + strong, black-haired stranger from whom she shrank with a swift timidity. + She looked at Champe's high blue-veined forehead and curling brown hair; + he was still the big boy she had played with; but when she went back to + Dan, the wonder returned with a kind of irritation, and she felt that she + should like to shake him and have it out between them as she used to do + before he went away. What was the meaning of it? Where the difference? As + he sat across from her, with his head thrown back and his eyes dark with + laughter, her look questioned him half humorously, half in alarm. From his + broad brow to his strong hand, playing idly with a little heap of bread + crumbs, she knew that she was conscious of his presence—with a + consciousness that had quickened into a living thing. + </p> + <p> + To Dan, himself, her gaze brought but the knowledge that her smile was + upon him, and he met her question with lifted eyebrows and perplexed + amusement. What he had once called “the Betty look” was in her face,—so + kind a look, so earnest yet so humorous, with a sweet sane humour at her + own bewilderment, that it held his eyes an instant before they plunged + back to Virginia—an instant only, but long enough for him to feel + the thrill of an impulse which he did not understand. Dear little Betty, + he thought, tenderly, and went back to her sister. + </p> + <p> + The next moment he was telling himself that “the girl was a tearing + beauty.” He liked that modest droop of her head and those bashful soft + eyes, as if, by George, as if she were really afraid of him. Or was it + Champe or Jack Morson that she bent her bewitching glance upon? Well, + Champe, or Morson, or himself, in a week they would all be over head and + ears in love with her, and let him win who might. It was mere folly, of + course, to break one's heart over a girl, and there was no chance of that + so long as he had his horses and the bull pups to fall back upon; but she + was deucedly pretty, and if he ever came to the old house to live it would + be rather jolly to have her about. He would be twenty-one by this time + next year, and a man of twenty-one was old enough to settle down a bit. In + the meantime he laughed and met Virginia's eye, and they both blushed and + looked away quickly. + </p> + <p> + But when they left the dining room an hour later, it was not Virginia that + Dan sought. He had learned the duties of hospitality in the Major's + school, and so he sat down beside Miss Lydia and asked her about her + window garden, while Jack Morson made desperate love to his beautiful + neighbour. Once, indeed, he drew Betty aside for an instant, but it was + only to whisper: “Look here, you'll be real nice to Diggs, won't you? He's + bashful, you know, and besides he's awfully poor, and works like the + devil. You make him enjoy his holidays, and I—well, yes, I'll let + that fox get away next week, I declare I will.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” agreed Betty, “it's a bargain. Mr. Diggs shall have a merry + Christmas, and the fox shall have his life. You'll keep faith with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Sworn,” said Dan, and he went back to Miss Lydia, while Betty danced a + reel with young Diggs, who fell in love with her before he was an hour + older. The terms cost him his heart, perhaps, but there was a life at + stake, and Betty, who had not a touch of the coquette in her nature, would + have flirted open-eyed with the rector could she have saved a robin from + the shot. As for Diggs, he might have been a family portrait or a + Christmas garland for all the sentiment she gave him. + </p> + <p> + When she went upstairs some hours later to put on her wraps, she had + forgotten, indeed, that Diggs or his emotion was in existence. She tied on + her blue hood with the swan's-down, and noticed, as she did so, that the + white rose was gone from her hair. “I hope I lost it after supper,” she + thought rather wistfully, for it was becoming; and then she slipped into + her long cloak and started down again. It was not until she reached the + bend in the staircase, where the tall clock stood, that she looked over + the balustrade and saw Dan in the hall below with the white rose in his + hand. + </p> + <p> + She had come so softly that he had not heard her step. The light from the + candelabra was full upon him, and she saw the half-tender, half-quizzical + look in his face. For an instant he held the white rose beneath his eyes, + then he carefully folded it in his handkerchief and hid it in the pocket + of his coat. As he did so, he gave a queer little laugh and went quickly + back into the panelled parlour, while Betty glowed like a flower in the + darkened bend of the staircase. + </p> + <p> + When they called her and she came down the bright colour was still in her + face, and her eyes were shining happily under the swan's-down border of + her hood. “This little lady isn't afraid of the cold,” said the Major, as + he pinched her cheeks. “Why, she's as warm as a toast, and, bless my soul, + if I were thirty years younger, I'd ride twenty miles tonight to catch a + glimpse of her in that bonny blue hood. Ah, in my day, men were men, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Dan, who had come back from escorting Miss Lydia to the carriage, laughed + and held out his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Let me carry you, Betty; I'll show grandpa that there's still a man + alive.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, no,” said Betty, as she stood on tiptoe and held her cheek to + the Major. “You haven't a chance when your grandfather's by. There, I'll + let you carry the sleeping draught for Aunt Pussy; but my flounces, no, + never!” and she ran past him and slipped into the carriage beside Mrs. + Ambler and Miss Lydia. + </p> + <p> + In a moment Virginia came out under an umbrella that was held by Jack + Morson, and the carriage rolled slowly along the drive, while the young + men stood, bareheaded, in the falling snow. + </p> + <p> + “Keep a brave heart, Morson,” said Champe, with a laugh, as he ran back + into the house, where the Major waited to bar the door, “remember, you've + known her but three hours, and stand it like a man. Well I'm off to bed,” + and he lighted his candle and, with a gay “good night,” went whistling up + the stair. + </p> + <p> + In Dan's bedroom, where he had crowded for the holidays, he found his + cousin, upon the hearth-rug, looking abstractedly into the flames. + </p> + <p> + As Champe entered he turned, with the poker in his hand, and spoke out of + the fulness of his heart:— + </p> + <p> + “She's a beauty, I declare she is.” + </p> + <p> + Champe broke short his whistling, and threw off his coat. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I dare say she was fifty years ago,” he rejoined gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't be an utter ass; you know I mean Virginia.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy, I had supposed Miss Lydia to be the object of your + attentions. You mustn't be a Don Juan, you know, you really mustn't. Spare + the sex, I entreat.” + </p> + <p> + Dan aimed a blow at him with a boot that was lying on the rug. “Shut up, + won't you,” he growled. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Virginia is a beauty,” was Champe's amiable response. “Jack Morson + swears Aunt Emmeline's picture can't touch her. He's writing to his father + now, I don't doubt, to say he can't live without her. Go down, and he'll + read you the letter.” + </p> + <p> + Dan's face grew black. “I'll thank him to mind his own business,” he + grumbled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he thinks he's doing it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, his business isn't either of the Ambler girls, and I'll have him to + know it. What right has he got, I'd like to know, to come up here and fall + in love with our neighbours.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Beau, Beau! Why, it was only last week you ran him away from Batt + Horsford's daughter. Are you going in for a general championship?” + </p> + <p> + “The devil! Sally Horsford's a handsome girl, and a good girl, too; and + I'll fight any man who says she isn't. By George, a woman's a woman, if + she is a stableman's daughter!” + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” cried Champe, with a whistle, “there spoke the Lightfoot.” + </p> + <p> + “She's a good girl,” repeated Dan, furiously, as he flung the other boot + at his cousin. Champe caught the boot, and carefully set it beside the + door. “Well, she's welcome to be, as far as I'm concerned,” he replied + calmly. “Turn not your speaking eye upon me. I harbour no dark intent, Sir + Galahad.” + </p> + <p> + “Damn Sir Galahad!” said Dan, and blew out the light. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. — BETTY DREAMS BY THE FIRE + </h2> + <p> + Betty, lying back in the deep old carriage as it rolled through the storm, + felt a glow at her heart as if a lamp were burning there, shut in from the + night. Above the wind and the groaning of the wheels, she heard Hosea + calling to the horses, but the sound reached her through muffled ears. + </p> + <p> + “Git along dar!” cried Hosea, with sudden spirit, “dar ain' no oats dis + side er home, en dar ain' no co'n, nurr. Git along dar! 'Tain' no use + a-mincin'. Git along dar!” + </p> + <p> + The snow beat softly on the windows, and the Governor's profile was + relieved, fine and straight, against the frosted glass. “Are you asleep, + daughter?” he asked, turning to where the girl lay in her dark corner. + </p> + <p> + “Asleep!” She came back with a start, and caught his hand above the robe + in her demonstrative way. “Why, who can sleep on Christmas Eve? there's + too much to do, isn't there, mamma? Twenty stockings to fill and I don't + know how many bundles to tie up. Oh, no, I shan't sleep tonight.” + </p> + <p> + “We might get up early to-morrow and do them,” suggested Virginia, nodding + in her pink hood. + </p> + <p> + “You, at least, must go to bed, dear,” insisted Mrs. Ambler. “Betty and I + will fix the things.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, you shall go to bed, mamma,” said Betty, sternly. “Papa and I + shall make Christmas this year. You'll help me, won't you, papa?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, I don't see how I can help myself,” returned the Governor; + “I wasn't born to be the father of a Betty for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Get along dar!” sang out Hosea again. “'Tain' no use a-mincin', gemmun. + Dar ain' no fiddlin' roun'. Git along dar!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lydia had fallen asleep, with her head on her breast, but the sound + aroused her, and she opened her eyes and sat up very straight. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I declare I'd almost dropped off,” she said. “Are we nearly there, + Peyton?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” replied the Governor, “but the snow's so thick I can't see;” + he opened the window and put out his head. “Are we nearly there, Hosea?” + </p> + <p> + “We des done pas' de clump er cedars, suh,” yelled Hosea through the + storm. “I'ud a knowd 'em ef dey'd come a-struttin' down de road—dey + cyarn fool me. Den we got ter pas' de wil' cher'y and de gap in de fence, + en dar we are.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we're nearly there,” said the Governor, as he drew in his head, and + Miss Lydia slept again until the carriage turned into the drive and + stopped before the portico. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Shadrach, in the open doorway, was grinning with delight. “Ef'n de + snow had er kep' you, dar 'ouldn't a been no Christmas for de res' er us,” + he declared. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the snow couldn't keep us, Shadrach,” returned the Governor, as he + gave him his overcoat, and set himself to unfastening his wife's wraps. + “We were too anxious to get home. There, Julia, you go to bed, and leave + Betty and myself to manage things. Don't say I can't do it. I tell you + I've been Governor of Virginia, and I'll not be daunted by an empty + stocking. Now go away, and you, too, Virginia—you're as sleepy as a + kitten. Miss Lydia, shall I take Mrs. Lightfoot's mixture to Miss Pussy, + or will you?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lydia took the pitcher, and Betty put her arm about her mother and + led her upstairs, holding her hand and kissing it as she went. She was + always lavish with little ways of love, but to-night she felt tenderer + than ever—she felt that she should like to take the world in her + arms and hold it to her bosom. “Dearest, sweetest,” she said, and her + voice was full and tremulous, though still with its crisp brightness of + tone. It was as if she caressed with her whole being, with those hidden + possibilities of passion which troubled her yet, only as the vibration of + strong music, making her joy pensive and her sadness sweet. She felt that + she was walking in a pleasant and vivid dream; she was happy, she could + not tell why; nor could she tell why she was sorrowful. + </p> + <p> + In Mrs. Ambler's room they found Mammy Riah, awaiting her mistress's + return. + </p> + <p> + “Put her to bed, Mammy,” she said; “she is all chilled by the drive,” and + she gave her mother over to the old negress, and ran down again to the + dining room, where the Governor was standing surrounded by the Christmas + litter. + </p> + <p> + “Do you expect to straighten out all these things, daughter?” he asked + hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, there's hardly anything left to do,” was Betty's cheerful assurance. + “You just sit down at the table and put the nuts into the toes of those + stockings, and I'll count out these print frocks.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor obediently sat down and went to work. “I am moved to offer + thanks that we are not as the beasts that have four legs,” he remarked + thoughtfully. “I shouldn't care to fill stockings for quadrupeds, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you goose, there's only one stocking for each child.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but with four feet our expectations might be doubled,” suggested the + Governor. “You can't convince me that it isn't a merciful providence, my + dear.” + </p> + <p> + When the stockings were filled and the packages neatly tied up and + separated, Uncle Shadrach came with a hamper, and Betty went out to the + kitchen to prepare for the morning gathering of the field hands and their + families. Returning after the work was over, she lingered a moment in the + path to the house, looking far across the white country. The snow had + ceased, and a single star was shining, through a rift in the scudding + clouds, straight overhead. From the northwest the wind blew hard, and the + fleecy covering on the ground was fast freezing a foot deep in ice. With a + shiver she drew her cloak about her and ran indoors and upstairs to where + Virginia lay asleep in the high, white bed. + </p> + <p> + In the great brick fireplace the logs had fallen apart, and she softly + pushed them together again as she threw on a knot of resinous pine. The + blaze shot up quickly, and blowing out the candle upon the bureau, she + undressed by the firelight, crooning gently as she did so in a voice that + was lower than the singing flames. With the glow on her bared arms and her + hair unbound upon her shoulders, she sat close against the chimney; and + while Virginia slept in the tester bed, went dreaming out into the night. + </p> + <p> + At first her dreams went back into her childhood, and somehow, she knew + not why, she could not bring back her childhood but Dan came with it. She + fancied herself in all kinds of impossible places, but she had no sooner + got safely into them than she looked up and Dan was there before her, + standing very still and laughing at her with his eyes. It was the same + thing even when she was a baby. Her earliest memory was of a May morning + when they took her out into a field of buttercups, and told her that she + might pluck her arms full if she could, and then, as she stretched out her + little hands and began to gather very fast, she looked across to where the + waving yellow buttercups stood up against the blue spring sky. That memory + had always been her own before; but now, when she went back to it, she + knew that all the time she had been gathering buttercups for Dan. And she + had plucked faster and faster only that she might have a bigger bunch for + him when the gathering was done. She saw herself working bonnetless in the + sunshine, her baby face red, her lips breathless, working so hard, she did + not know for whom. Oh, how funny that he should have been somewhere all + the time! + </p> + <p> + And again on the day when they gave her her first doll, and she let it + fall and cried her heart out over its broken pink face. She knew, at last, + that somewhere in that ugly town Dan had dropped his toy; and it was for + that she was crying, not for her own poor doll. Yes, all her life she had + had two griefs to weep for, and two joys to be glad over. She had been + really a double self from her babyhood up—from her babyhood up! It + had been always up, up, up—like a lark that rises to the sun. She + had all her life been rising to the sun, and she was warmed at last. + </p> + <p> + Then she asked herself if it were happiness, after all, this new + restlessness of hers. The melancholy of the early spring was there—the + roving impulse that comes on April afternoons when the first buds are on + the trees and the air is keen with the smell of the newly turned earth. + She felt that it was time for the spring to come again; she wanted to walk + alone in the woods and to watch the swallows flying from the north. And + again she wanted only to lie close upon the hearth and to hear the flames + leap up the chimney. One of her selves cried to be up and roaming; the + other to turn over on the rug and sleep again. + </p> + <p> + But gradually her thoughts returned to him, and she went over, bit by bit, + what he had said last evening, asking herself if he had meant much at this + time, or little at another. It seemed to her that she found new meanings + now in things that she had once overlooked. She read words in his eyes + which he had never spoken; and, one by one, she brought back each + sentence, each look, each gesture, holding it up to her remembrance, and + laying it aside to give place to the next. Oh, there were so many, so + many! + </p> + <p> + And then from the past her dreams went groping out into the future, + becoming dimmer, and shaping themselves into unreal forms. Scattered + visions came drifting through her mind,—of herself in romantic + adventures, and of Dan—always of Dan—appearing like the prince + in the fairy tale, at the perilous moment. She saw herself on the breast + of a great river, borne, while she stretched her hands at a white + rose-bush blooming in the clouds, to a cataract which she could not see, + though she heard its thunder far ahead. She tried to call, but no sound + came, for the water filled her mouth. The river went on and on, and the + falling of the cataract was in her ears, when she felt Dan's arm about + her, and saw his eyes laughing at her above the waters. + </p> + <p> + “Betty!” called Virginia, suddenly, rising on her elbow and rubbing her + eyes. “Betty, is it morning?” + </p> + <p> + Betty awoke with a cry, and stood up in the firelight. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, not yet,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing? Aren't you coming to bed?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I was just thinking,” stammered Betty, twisting her hair into a + rope; “yes, I'm coming now,” and she crossed the room and climbed into the + bed beside her sister. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I fell asleep by the fire,” she said, as she turned over. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. — DAN AND BETTY + </h2> + <p> + On the last day of the year the young men from Chericoke, as they rode + down the turnpike, came upon Betty bringing holly berries from the wood. + She was followed by two small negroes laden with branches, and beside her + ran her young setters, Peyton and Bill. + </p> + <p> + As Dan came up with her, he checked his horse and swung himself to the + ground. “Thank God I've passed the boundary!” he exclaimed over his + shoulder to the others. “Ride on, my lads, ride on! Don't prate of the + claims of hospitality to me. My foot is on my neighbours' heath; I'm host + to no man.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, now, Beau,” remonstrated Jack Morson, looking down from his saddle; + “I see in Miss Betty's eyes that she wants me to carry that holly—I + swear I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you see more than is written,” declared Champe, from the other side, + “for it's as plain as day that one eye says Diggs and one Lightfoot—isn't + it, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + Betty looked up, laughing. “If you are so skilled in foreign tongues, what + can I answer?” she asked. “Only that I've been a mile after this holly for + the party to-night, and I wouldn't trust it to all of you together—for + worlds.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go on, go on,” said Dan, impatiently, “doesn't that mean that she'll + trust it to me alone? Good morning, my boys, God be with you,” and he led + Prince Rupert aside while the rest rode by. + </p> + <p> + When they were out of sight he turned to one of the small negroes, his + hand on the bridle. “Shall we exchange burdens, O eater of 'possums?” he + asked blandly. “Will you permit me to tote your load, while you lead my + horse to the house? You aren't afraid of him, are you?” + </p> + <p> + The little negro grinned. “He do look moughty glum, suh,” he replied, half + fearfully. + </p> + <p> + “Glum! Why, the amiability in that horse's face is enough to draw tears. + Come up, Prince Rupert, your highness is to go ahead of me; it's to oblige + a lady, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as Prince Rupert was led away, Dan looked at Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Shall it be the turnpike or the meadow path?” he inquired, with the gay + deference he used toward women, as if a word might turn it to a jest or a + look might make it earnest. + </p> + <p> + “The meadow, but not the path,” replied the girl; “the path is asleep + under the snow.” She cast a happy glance over the white landscape, down + the long turnpike, and across the broad meadow where a cedar tree waved + like a snowy plume. “Jake, we must climb the wall,” she added to the negro + boy, “be careful about the berries.” + </p> + <p> + Dan threw his holly into the meadow and lifted Betty upon the stone wall. + “Now wait a moment,” he cautioned, as he went over. “Don't move till I + tell you. I'm managing this job—there, now jump!” + </p> + <p> + He caught her hands and set her on her feet beside him. “Take your fence, + my beauties,” he called gayly to the dogs, as they came bounding across + the turnpike. + </p> + <p> + Betty straightened her cap and took up her berries. + </p> + <p> + “Your tender mercies are rather cruel,” she complained, as she did so. + “Even my hair is undone.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's all the better,” returned Dan, without looking at her. “I don't + see why girls make themselves so smooth, anyway. That's what I like about + you, you know—you've always got a screw loose somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “But I haven't,” cried Betty, stopping in the snow. + </p> + <p> + “What! if I find a curl where it oughtn't to be, may I have it?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” she answered indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's one hanging over your ear now. Shall I put it straight with + this piece of holly? My hands are full, but I think I might manage it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't touch me with your holly!” exclaimed Betty, walking faster; then in + a moment she turned and stood calling to the dogs. “Have you noticed what + beauties Bill and Peyton have grown to be?” she questioned pleasantly. + “There weren't any boys to be named after papa and Uncle Bill, so I called + the dogs after them, you know. Papa says he would rather have had a son + named Peyton; but I tell him the son might have been wicked and brought + his hairs in sorrow to the grave.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I dare say, you're right,” he stopped with a sweep of his hand, and + stood looking to where a flock of crows were flying over the dried + spectres of carrot flowers that stood up above the snow; “That's fine, + now, isn't it?” he asked seriously. + </p> + <p> + Betty followed his gesture, then she gave a little cry and threw her arms + round the dogs. “The poor crows are so hungry,” she said. “No, no, you + mustn't chase them, Bill and Peyton, it isn't right, you see. Here, Jake, + come and hold the dogs, while I feed the crows.” She drew a handful of + corn from the pocket of her cloak, and flung it out into the meadow. + </p> + <p> + “I always bring corn for them,” she explained; “they get so hungry, and + sometimes they starve to death right out here. Papa says they are + pernicious birds; but I don't care—do you mind their being + pernicious?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Not in the least. I assure you I trouble myself very little about the + morals of my associates. I'm not fond of crows; but it is their voices + rather than their habits I object to. I can't stand their eternal + 'cawing!'—it drives me mad.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose foxes are pernicious beasts, also,” said Betty, as she walked + on; “but there's an old red fox in the woods that I've been feeding for + years. I don't know anything that foxes like to eat except chickens, but I + carry him a basket of potatoes and turnips and bread, and pile them up + under a pine tree; it's just as well for him to acquire the taste for + them, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled at Dan above her fur tippet, and he forgot her words in + watching the animation come and go in her face. He fell to musing over her + decisive little chin, the sensitive curves of her nostrils and sweet wide + mouth, and above all over her kind yet ardent look, which gave the + peculiar beauty to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, is there anything in heaven or earth that you don't like?” he asked, + as he gazed at her. + </p> + <p> + “That I don't like? Shall I really tell you?” + </p> + <p> + He bent toward her over his armful of holly. + </p> + <p> + “I have a capacious breast for secrets,” he assured her. + </p> + <p> + “Then you will never breathe it?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you have me swear?” he glanced about him. + </p> + <p> + “Not by the inconstant moon,” she entreated merrily. + </p> + <p> + “Well, by my 'gracious self'; what's the rest of it?” + </p> + <p> + She coloured and drew away from him. His eyes made her self-conscious, ill + at ease; the very carelessness of his look disconcerted her. + </p> + <p> + “No, do not swear,” she begged. “I shall trust you with even so weighty a + confidence. I do not like—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, why torture me?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + She made a little gesture of alarm. “From fear of the wrath to come,” she + admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Of my wrath?” he regarded her with amazement. “Oh, don't you like <i>me</i>?” + he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “You! Yes, yes—but—have mercy upon your petitioner. I do not + like your cravats.” + </p> + <p> + She shut her eyes and stood before him with lowered head. + </p> + <p> + “My cravats!” cried Dan, in dismay, as his hand went to his throat, “but + my cravats are from Paris—Charlie Morson brought them over. What is + the matter with them?” + </p> + <p> + “They—they're too fancy,” confessed Betty. “Papa wears only white, + or black ones you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Too fancy! Nonsense! do you want to send me back to grandfather's stocks, + I wonder? It's just pure envy—that's what it is. Never mind, I'll + give you the very best one I've got.” + </p> + <p> + Betty shook her head. “And what should I do with it, pray?” she asked. + “Uncle Shadrach wouldn't wear it for worlds—he wears only papa's + clothes, you see. Oh, I might give it to Hosea; but I don't think he'd + like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hosea! Well, I declare,” exclaimed Dan, and was silent. + </p> + <p> + When he spoke a little later it was somewhat awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “I say, did Virginia ever tell you she didn't like my cravats?” he + inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Virginia!” her voice was a little startled. “Oh, Virginia thinks they're + lovely.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don't?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you are a case,” he said, and walked on slowly. + </p> + <p> + They were already in sight of the house, and he did not speak again until + they had passed the portico and entered the hall. There they found + Virginia and the young men, who had ridden over ahead of them, hanging + evergreens for the approaching party. Jack Morson, from the top of the + step-ladder, was suspending a holly wreath above the door, while Champe + was entwining the mahogany balustrade in running cedar. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Betty, would it be disrespectful to put mistletoe above General + Washington's portrait?” called Virginia, as they went into the hall. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think he'd mind—the old dear,” answered Betty, throwing her + armful of holly upon the floor. “There, Dan, the burden of the day is + over.” + </p> + <p> + “And none too soon,” said Dan, as he tossed the holly from him. “Diggs, + you sluggard, what are you sitting there in idleness for? Miss Pussy, + can't you set him to work?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pussy, who was bustling in and out with a troop of servants at her + heels, found time to reply seriously that she really didn't think there + was anything she could trust him with. “Of course, I don't mind your + amusing yourselves with the decorations,” she added briskly, “but the + cooking is quite a different thing, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Amusing myself!” protested Dan, in astonishment. “My dear lady, do you + call carrying a wagon load of brushwood amusement? Now, I'll grant, if you + please, that Morson is amusing himself on the step-ladder.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep off,” implored Morson, in terror; “if you shake the thing, I'm gone, + I declare I am.” + </p> + <p> + He nailed the garland in place and came down cautiously. “Now, that's what + I call an artistic job,” he complacently remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's lovely,” said Virginia, smiling, as he turned to her. “It's + lovely, isn't it, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + “As lovely as a crooked thing can be,” laughed Betty. She was looking + earnestly at Virginia, and wondering if she really liked Jack Morson so + very much. The girl was so bewitching in her red dress, with the flush of + a sudden emotion in her face, and the shyness in her downcast eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that isn't fair, Virginia,” called Champe from the steps. “Save your + favour for the man that deserves it—and look at me.” Virginia did + look at him, sending him the same radiant glance. + </p> + <p> + “But I've many 'lovelies' left,” she said quickly; “it's my favourite + word.” + </p> + <p> + “A most appropriate taste,” faltered Diggs, from his chair beneath the + hall clock. + </p> + <p> + Champe descended the staircase with a bound. + </p> + <p> + “What do I hear?” he exclaimed. “Has the oyster opened his mouth and + brought forth a compliment?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be quiet,” commanded Dan, “I shan't hear Diggs made fun of, and it's + time to get back, anyway. Well, loveliest of lovely ladies, you must put + on your prettiest frock to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia's blush deepened. Did she like Dan so very much? thought Betty. + </p> + <p> + “But you mustn't notice me, please,” she begged, “all the neighbours are + coming, and there are so many girls,—the Powells and the Harrisons + and the Dulaneys. I am going to wear pink, but you mustn't notice it, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” said Jack Morson, “make him do his duty by the County, and + keep your dances for Diggs and me.” + </p> + <p> + “I've done my duty by you, sir,” was Dan's prompt retort, “so I'll begin + to do my pleasure by myself. Now I give you fair warning, Virginia, if you + don't save the first reel for me, I'll dance all the rest with Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it will be a Betty of your own making,” declared Betty over her + shoulder, “for this Betty doesn't dance a single step with you to-night, + so there, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Your punishment be on your own head, rash woman,” said Dan, sternly, as + he took up his riding-whip. “I'll dance with Peggy Harrison,” and he went + out to Prince Rupert, lifting his hat, as he mounted, to Miss Lydia, who + stood at her window above. A moment later they heard his horse's hoofs + ringing in the drive, and his voice gayly whistling:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “They tell me thou'rt the favor'd guest.” + </pre> + <p> + When the others joined him in the turnpike, the four voices took up the + air, and sent the pathetic melody fairly dancing across the snow. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Do I thus haste to hall and bower + Among the proud and gay to shine? + Or deck my hair with gem and flower + To flatter other eyes than thine? + Ah, no, with me love's smiles are past; + Thou hadst the first, thou hadst the last.” + </pre> + <p> + The song ended in a burst of laughter, and up the white turnpike, beneath + the melting snow that rained down from the trees, they rode merrily back + to Chericoke. + </p> + <p> + In the carriage way they found the Major, wrapped in his broadcloth cape, + taking what he called a “breath of air.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen, I hope you had a pleasant ride,” he remarked, following + them into the house. “You didn't see your way to stop by Uplands, I + reckon?” + </p> + <p> + “That we did, sir,” said Diggs, who was never bashful with the Major. “In + fact, we made ourselves rather useful, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “They're charming young ladies over there, eh?” inquired the Major, + genially; and a little later when Dan and he were alone, he put the same + question to his grandson. “They're delightful girls, are they not, my + boy?” he ventured incautiously. “You have noticed, I dare say, how your + grandmother takes to Betty—and she's not a woman of many fancies, is + your grandmother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but Virginia!” exclaimed Dan, with enthusiasm. “I wish you could have + seen her in her red dress to-day. You don't half realize what a thundering + beauty that girl is. Why, she positively took my breath away.” + </p> + <p> + The Major chuckled and rubbed his hands together. + </p> + <p> + “I don't, eh?” he said, scenting a romance as an old war horse scents a + battle. “Well, well, maybe not; but I see where the wind blows anyway, and + you have my congratulations on either hand. I shan't deny that we old + folks had a leaning to Betty; but youth is youth, and we shan't oppose + your fancy. So I congratulate you, my boy, I congratulate you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, she wouldn't look at me, sir,” declared Dan, feeling that the pace + was becoming a little too impetuous. “I only wish she would; but I'd as + soon expect the moon to drop from the skies.” + </p> + <p> + “Not look at you! Pooh, pooh!” protested the old gentleman, indignantly. + “Proper pride is not vanity, sir; and there's never been a Lightfoot yet + that couldn't catch a woman's eye, if I do say it who should not. Pooh, + pooh! it isn't a faint heart that wins the ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you to be an authority, my dear grandpa,” admitted the young man, + lightly glancing into the gilt-framed mirror above the mantel. “If there's + any of your blood in me, it makes for conquest.” From the glass he caught + the laughter in his eyes and turned it on his grandfather. + </p> + <p> + “It ill becomes me to rob the Lightfoots of one of their chief + distinctions,” said the Major, smiling in his turn. “We are not a proud + people, my boy; but we've always fought like men and made love like + gentlemen, and I hope that you will live up to your inheritance.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as his grandson ran upstairs to dress, he followed him as far as + Mrs. Lightfoot's chamber, and informed her with a touch of pomposity: + “That it was Virginia, not Betty, after all. But we'll make the best of + it, my dear,” he added cheerfully. “Either of the Ambler girls is a jewel + of priceless value.” + </p> + <p> + The little old lady received this flower of speech with more than ordinary + unconcern. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Lightfoot, that the boy has begun already?” + she demanded, in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't say so,” replied the Major, with a chuckle; “but I see what he + means—I see what he means. Why, he told me he wished I could have + seen her to-day in her red dress—and, bless my soul, I wish I could, + ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see what good it would do you,” returned his wife, coolly. “But + did he have the face to tell you he was in love with the girl, Mr. + Lightfoot?” + </p> + <p> + “Have the face?” repeated the Major, testily. “Pray, why shouldn't he have + the face, ma'am? Whom should he tell, I'd like to know, before he tells + his grandfather?” and with a final “pooh, pooh!” he returned angrily to + his library and to the <i>Richmond Whig</i>, a paper he breathlessly read + and mightily abused. + </p> + <p> + Dan, meanwhile, upstairs in his room with Champe, was busily sorting his + collection of neckwear. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Champe, I'll give you all these red ties, if you want them,” + he generously concluded. “I believe, after all, I'll take to wearing white + or black ones again.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” asked Champe, in astonishment, turning on his heel. “Have the + skies fallen, or does Beau Montjoy forsake the fashions?” + </p> + <p> + “Confound the fashions!” retorted Dan, impatiently. “I don't care a jot + for the fashions. You may have all these, if you choose,” and he tossed + the neckties upon the bed. + </p> + <p> + Champe picked up one and examined it with interest. + </p> + <p> + “O woman,” he murmured as he did so, “your hand is small but mighty.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV — LOVE IN A MAZE + </h2> + <p> + Despite Virginia's endeavour to efface herself for her guests, she shone + unrivalled at the party, and Dan, who had held her hand for an ecstatic + moment under the mistletoe, felt, as he rode home in the moonlight + afterwards, that his head was fairly on fire with her beauty. She had been + sweetly candid and flatteringly impartial. He could not honestly assert + that she had danced with him oftener than with Morson, or a dozen others, + but he had a pleasant feeling that even when she shook her head and said, + “I cannot,” her soft eyes added for her, “though I really wish to.” There + was something almost pitiable, he told himself in the complacency with + which that self-satisfied ass Morson would come and take her from him. As + if he hadn't sense enough to discover that it was merely because she was + his hostess that she went with him at all. But some men would never + understand women, though they lived to be a thousand, and got rejected + once a day. + </p> + <p> + Out in the moonlight, with the Governor's wine singing in his blood, he + found that his emotions had a way of tripping lightly off his tongue. + There were hot words with Diggs, who hinted that Virginia was not the + beauty of the century, and threats of blows with Morson, who too boldly + affirmed that she was. In the end Champe rode between them, and sent + Prince Rupert on his way with a touch of the whip. + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sake, keep your twaddle to yourselves!” he exclaimed + impatiently, “or take my advice, and make for the nearest duck pond. + You've both gone over your depth in the Governor's Madeira, and I advise + you to keep quiet until you've had your heads in a basin of ice water. + There, get out of my road, Morson. I can't sit here freezing all night.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you dare to imply that I am drunk, sir?” demanded Morson, in a fury. + “Bear witness, gentlemen, that the insult was unprovoked.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, insult be damned!” retorted Champe. “If you shake your fist at me + again, I'll pitch you head over heels into that snowdrift.” + </p> + <p> + “Pitch whom, sir?” roared Morson, riding at the wall, when Diggs caught + his bridle and roughly dragged him back. + </p> + <p> + “Come, now, don't make a beast of yourself,” he implored. + </p> + <p> + “Who's a beast?” was promptly put by Morson; but leaving it unanswered, + Diggs wheeled his horse about and started up the turnpike. “You've let + Beau get out of sight,” he said. “We'd better catch up with him,” and he + set off at a gallop. + </p> + <p> + Dan, who had ridden on at Champe's first words, did not even turn his head + when the three came abreast with him. The moonlight was in his eyes, and + the vision of Virginia floated before him at his saddle bow. He let the + reins fall loosely on Prince Rupert's neck, and as the hoofs rang on the + frozen road, thrust his hands for warmth into his coat. In another dress, + with his dark hair blown backward in the wind, he might have been a + cavalier fresh from the service of his lady or his king, or riding + carelessly to his death for the sake of the drunken young Pretender. + </p> + <p> + But he was only following his dreams, and they hovered round Virginia, + catching their rosy glamour from her dress. In the cold night air he saw + her walking demurely through the lancers, her skirt held up above her + satin shoes, her coral necklace glowing deeper pink against her slim white + throat. Mistletoe and holly hung over her, and the light of the candles + shone brighter where her radiant figure passed. He caught the soft flash + of her shy brown eyes, he heard her gentle voice speaking trivial things + with profound tenderness. His hand still burned from the light pressure of + her finger tips. Oh, his day had come, he told himself, and he was + furiously in love at last. + </p> + <p> + As for going back to college, the very idea was absurd. At twenty years it + was quite time for him to settle down and keep open house like other men. + Virginia, in rose pink, flitted up the crooked stair and across the white + panels of the parlor, and with a leap, his heart went after her. He saw + Great-aunt Emmeline lean down from her faded canvas as if to toss her + apple at the young girl's feet. Ah, poor old beauty, hanging in a gilded + frame, what was her century of dust to a bit of living flesh that had + bright eyes and was coloured like a flower? + </p> + <p> + When he was safely married he would have his wife's portrait hung upon the + opposite wall, only he rather thought he should have the dogs in and let + her be Diana, with a spear instead of an apple in her hand. Two beauties + in one family—that was something to be proud of even in Virginia. + </p> + <p> + It was at this romantic point that Champe shattered his visions by + shooting a jest at him about the “love sick swain.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be off, and let a fellow think, won't you?” he retorted angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear him call it thinking?” jeered Diggs, from the other side. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't call it mooning, oh, no,” scoffed Champe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there's nothing half so sweet in life,” sang Morson, striking an + attitude that almost threw him off his horse. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up, Morson,” commanded Diggs, “you ought to be thankful if you had + enough sense left to moon with.” + </p> + <p> + “Sense, who wants sense?” inquired Morson, on the point of tears. “I have + heart, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then keep it bottled up,” rejoined Champe, coolly, as they turned into + the drive at Chericoke. + </p> + <p> + In Dan's room they found Big Abel stretched before the fire asleep; and as + the young men came in, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Hi! young Marsters, hit's ter-morrow!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow! I wish it were to-morrow,” responded Dan, cheerfully. “The + fire makes my head spin like a top. Here, come and pull off my coat, Big + Abel, or I'll have to go to bed with my clothes on.” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel pulled off the coat and brushed it carefully; then he held out + his hand for Champe's. + </p> + <p> + “I hope dis yer coat ain' gwine lose hit's set 'fo' hit gits ter me,” he + muttered as he hung them up. “Seems like you don' teck no cyar yo' + clothes, nohow, Marse Dan. I'se de wuss dress somebody dis yer side er de + po' w'ite trash. Wat's de use er bein' de quality ef'n you ain' got de + close?” + </p> + <p> + “Stop grumbling, you fool you,” returned Dan, with his lordly air. “If + it's my second best evening suit you're after, you may take it; but I tell + you now, it's the last thing you're going to get out of me till summer.” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel took down the second best suit of clothes and examined them with + an interest they had never inspired before. “I d'clar you sutney does set + hard,” he remarked after a moment, and added, tentatively, “I dunno whar + de shuts gwine come f'om.” + </p> + <p> + “Not from me,” replied Dan, airily; “and now get out of here, for I'm + going to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + But when he threw himself upon his bed it was to toss with feverish + rose-coloured dreams until the daybreak. + </p> + <p> + His blood was still warm when he came down to breakfast; but he met his + grandfather's genial jests with a boyish attempt at counter-buff. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you needn't twit me, sir,” he said with an embarrassed laugh; “to + wear the heart upon the sleeve is hereditary with us, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep clear of the daws, my son, and it does no harm,” responded the + Major. “There's nothing so becoming to a gentleman as a fine heart well + worn, eh, Molly?” + </p> + <p> + He carefully spread the butter upon his cakes, for his day of love-making + was over, and his eye could hold its twinkle while he watched Dan fidget + in his seat. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot promptly took up the challenge. “For my part I prefer one + under a buttoned coat,” she replied briskly; “but be careful, Mr. + Lightfoot, or you will put notions into the boys' heads. They are at the + age when a man has a fancy a day and gets over it before he knows it.” + </p> + <p> + “They are at the age when I had my fancy for you, Molly,” gallantly + retorted the Major, “and I seem to be carrying it with me to my grave.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a dull wit that would go roving from Aunt Molly,” said + Champe, affectionately; “but there aren't many of her kind in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “I never found but one like her,” admitted the Major, “and I've seen a + good deal in my day, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady listened with a smile, though she spoke in a severe voice. + “You mustn't let them teach you how to flatter, Mr. Morson,” she said + warningly, as she filled the Major's second cup of coffee—“Cupid, + Mr. Morson will have a partridge.” + </p> + <p> + “The man who sits at your table will never question your supremacy, dear + madam,” returned Jack Morson, as he helped himself to a bird. “There is + little merit in devotion to such bounty.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I kick him, grandma?” demanded Dan. “He means that we love you + because you feed us, the sly scamp.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot shook her head reprovingly. “Oh, I understand you, Mr. + Morson,” she said amiably, “and a compliment to my housekeeping never goes + amiss. If a woman has any talent, it will come out upon her table.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right, Molly, you're right,” agreed the Major, heartily. “I've + always held that there was nothing in a man who couldn't make a speech or + in a woman who couldn't set a table.” + </p> + <p> + Dan stirred restlessly in his chair, and at the first movement of Mrs. + Lightfoot he rose and went out into the hall. An hour later he ordered + Prince Rupert and started joyously to Uplands. + </p> + <p> + As he rode through the frosted air he pictured to himself a dozen + different ways in which it was possible that he might meet Virginia. Would + she be upon the portico or in the parlour? Was she still in pink or would + she wear the red gown of yesterday? When she gave him her hand would she + smile as she had smiled last night? or would she stand demurely grave with + down dropped lashes? + </p> + <p> + The truth was that she did none of the things he had half expected of her. + She was sitting before a log fire, surrounded by a group of Harrisons and + Powells, who had been prevailed upon to spend the night, and when he + entered she gave him a sleepy little nod from the corner of a rosewood + sofa. As she lay back in the firelight she was like a drowsy kitten that + had just awakened from a nap. Though less radiant, her beauty was more + appealing, and as she stared at him with her large eyes blinking, he + wanted to stoop down and rock her off to sleep. He regarded her calmly + this morning, for, with all his tenderness, she did not fire his brain, + and the glory of the vision had passed away. Half angrily he asked himself + if he were in love with a pink dress and nothing more? + </p> + <p> + An hour afterward he came noisily into the library at Chericoke and + aroused the Major from his Horace by stamping distractedly about the room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's all up with me, sir,” he began despondently. “I might as well go + out and hang myself. I don't know what I want and yet I'm going mad + because I can't get it.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come,” said the Major, soothingly. “I've been through it myself, + sir, and since your grandmother's out of earshot, I'd as well confess that + I've been through it more than once. Cheer up, cheer up, you aren't the + first to dare the venture—<i>Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona</i>, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + His assurance was hardly as comforting as he had intended it to be. “Oh, I + dare say, there've been fools enough before me,” returned Dan, + impatiently, as he flung himself out of the room. + </p> + <p> + He grew still more impatient when the day came for him to return to + college; and as they started out on horseback, with Zeke and Big Abel + riding behind their masters, he declared irritably that the whole system + of education was a nuisance, and that he “wished the ark had gone down + with all the ancient languages on board.” + </p> + <p> + “There would still be law,” suggested Morson, pleasantly. “So cheer up, + Beau, there's something left for you to learn.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as they passed Uplands, they turned, with a single impulse, and + cantered up the broad drive to the portico. Betty and Virginia were in the + library; and as they heard the horses, they came running to the window and + threw it open. + </p> + <p> + “So you will come back in the summer—all of you,” said Virginia, + hopefully, and as she leaned out a white camellia fell from her bosom to + the snow beneath. In an instant Jack Morson was off his horse and the + flower was in his hand. “We'll bring back all that we take away,” he + answered gallantly, his fair boyish face as red as Virginia's. + </p> + <p> + Dan could have kicked him for the words, but he merely said savagely, + “Have you left your pocket handkerchief?” and turned Prince Rupert toward + the road. When he looked back from beneath the silver poplars, the girls + were still standing at the open window, the cold wind flushing their + cheeks and blowing the brown hair and the red together. + </p> + <p> + Virginia was the first to turn away. “Come in, you'll take cold,” she + said, going to the fire. “Peggy Harrison never goes out when the wind + blows, you know, she says it's dreadful for the complexion. Once when she + had to come back from town on a March day, she told me she wore six green + veils. I wonder if that's the way she keeps her lovely colour?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wouldn't be Peggy Harrison,” returned Betty, gayly, and she added + in the same tone, “so Mr. Morson got your camellia, after all, didn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he begged so hard with his eyes,” answered Virginia. “He had seen me + give Dan a white rose on Christmas Eve, you know, and he said it wasn't + fair to be so unfair.” + </p> + <p> + “You gave Dan a white rose?” repeated Betty, slowly. Her face was pale, + but she was smiling brightly. + </p> + <p> + Virginia's soft little laugh pealed out. “And it was your rose, too, + darling,” she said, nestling to Betty like a child. “You dropped it on the + stair and I picked it up. I was just going to take it to you because it + looked so lovely in your hair, when Dan came along and he would have it, + whether or no. But you don't mind, do you, just a little bit of white + rosebud?” She put up her hand and stroked her sister's cheek. “Men are so + silly, aren't they?” she added with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Betty looked down upon the brown head on her bosom; then she + stooped and kissed Virginia's brow. “Oh, no, I don't mind, dear,” she + answered, “and women are very silly, too, sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + She loosened Virginia's arms and went slowly upstairs to her bedroom, + where Petunia was replenishing the fire. “You may go down, Petunia,” she + said as she entered. “I am going to put my things to rights, and I don't + want you to bother me—go straight downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Is you gwine in yo' chist er draws?” inquired Petunia, pausing upon the + threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'm going into my chest of drawers, but you're not,” retorted Betty, + sharply; and when Petunia had gone out and closed the door after her, she + pulled out her things and began to straighten rapidly, rolling up her + ribbons with shaking fingers, and carefully folding her clothes into + compact squares. Ever since her childhood she had always begun to work at + her chest of drawers when any sudden shock unnerved her. After a great + happiness she took up her trowel and dug among the flowers of the garden; + but when her heart was heavy within her, she shut her door and put her + clothes to rights. + </p> + <p> + Now, as she worked rapidly, the tears welled slowly to her lashes, but she + brushed them angrily away, and rolled up a sky-blue sash. She had worn the + sash at Chericoke on Christmas Eve, and as she looked at it, she felt, + with the keenness of pain, a thrill of her old girlish happiness. The + figure of Dan, as he stood upon the threshold with the powdering of snow + upon his hair, rose suddenly to her eyes, and she flinched before the + careless humour of his smile. It was her own fault, she told herself a + little bitterly, and because it was her own fault she could bear it as she + should have borne the joy. There was nothing to cry over, nothing even to + regret; she knew now that she loved him, and she was glad—glad even + of this. If the bitterness in her heart was but the taste of knowledge, + she would not let it go; she would keep both the knowledge and the + bitterness. + </p> + <p> + In the next room Mammy Riah was rocking back and forth upon the hearth, + crooning to herself while she carded a lapful of wool. Her cracked old + voice, still with its plaintive sweetness, came faintly to the girl who + leaned her cheek upon the sky-blue sash and listened, half against her + will:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oh, we'll all be done wid trouble, by en bye, little chillun, + We'll all be done wid trouble, by en bye. + Oh, we'll set en chatter wid de angels, by en bye, little chillun, + We'll set en chatter wid de angels, by en bye.” + </pre> + <p> + The door opened and Virginia came softly into the room, and stopped short + at the sight of Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Why, your things were perfectly straight, Betty,” she exclaimed in + surprise. “I declare, you'll be a real old maid.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I shall,” replied Betty, indifferently; “but if I am, I'm going + to be a tidy one.” + </p> + <p> + “I never heard of one who wasn't,” remarked Virginia, and added, “you've + put all your ribbons into the wrong drawer.” + </p> + <p> + “I like a change,” said Betty, folding up a muslin skirt. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oh, we'll slip en slide on de golden streets, by en bye, + little chillun, + We'll slip en slide on de golden streets, by en bye,” + </pre> + <p> + sang Mammy Riah, in the adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lydia found six red pinks in bloom in her window garden,” observed + Virginia, cheerfully. “Why, where are you going, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + “Just for a walk,” answered Betty, as she put on her bonnet and cloak. + “I'm not afraid of the cold, you know, and I'm so tired sitting still,” + and she added, as she fastened her fur tippet, “I shan't be long, dear.” + </p> + <p> + She opened the door, and Mammy Riah's voice followed her across the hall + and down the broad staircase:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oh, we'll ride on de milk w'ite ponies, by en bye, little chillun, + We'll ride on de milk w'ite ponies, by en bye.” + </pre> + <p> + At the foot of the stair she called the dogs, and they came bounding + through the hall and leaped upon her as she crossed the portico. Then, as + she went down the drive and up the desolate turnpike, they ran ahead of + her with short, joyous barks. + </p> + <p> + The snow had melted and frozen again, and the long road was like a gray + river winding between leafless trees. The gaunt crows were still flying + back and forth over the meadows, but she did not have corn for them + to-day. Had she been happy, she would not have forgotten them; but the + pain in her breast made her selfish even about the crows. + </p> + <p> + With the dogs leaping round her, she pressed bravely against the wind, + flying breathlessly from the struggle at her heart. There was nothing to + cry over, she told herself again, nothing even to regret. It was her own + fault, and because it was her own fault she could bear it quietly as she + should have borne the joy. + </p> + <p> + She had reached the spot where he had lifted her upon the wall, and + leaning against the rough stones she looked southward to where the + swelling meadows dipped into the projecting line of hills. He was before + her then, as he always would be, and shrinking back, she put up her hand + to shut out the memory of his eyes. She could have hated that shallow + gayety, she told herself, but for the tenderness that lay beneath it—since + jest as he might at his own scars, when had he ever made mirth of + another's? Had she not seen him fight the battles of free Levi? and when + Aunt Rhody's cabin was in flames did he not bring out one of the negro + babies in his coat? That dare-devil courage which had first caught her + girlish fancy, thrilled her even to-day as the proof of an ennobling + purpose. She remembered that he had gone whistling into the burning cabin, + and coming out again had coolly taken up the broken air; and to her this + inherent recklessness was clothed with the sublimity of her own ideals. + </p> + <p> + The cold wind had stiffened her limbs, and she ran back into the road and + walked on rapidly. Beyond the whitened foldings of the mountains a deep + red glow was burning in the west, and she wanted to hold out her hands to + it for warmth. Her next thought was that a winter sunset soon died out, + and as she turned quickly to go homeward, she saw that she was before Aunt + Ailsey's cabin, and that the little window was yellow from the light + within. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Ailsey had been dead for years, but the free negro Levi had moved + into her hut, and as Betty looked up she saw him standing beneath the + blasted oak, with a bundle of brushwood upon his shoulder. He was an + honest-eyed, grizzled-haired old negro, who wrung his meagre living from a + blacksmith's trade, bearing alike the scornful pity of his white + neighbours and the withering contempt of his black ones. For twenty years + he had moved from spot to spot along the turnpike, and he had lived in the + dignity of loneliness since the day upon which his master had won for + himself the freedom of Eternity, leaving to his servant Levi the labour of + his own hands. + </p> + <p> + As the girl spoke to him he answered timidly, fingering the edge of his + ragged coat. + </p> + <p> + Yes, he had managed to keep warm through the winter, and he had worn the + red flannel that she had given him. + </p> + <p> + “And your rheumatism?” asked Betty, kindly. + </p> + <p> + He replied that it had been growing worse of late, and with a sympathetic + word the girl was passing by when some newer pathos in his solitary figure + stayed her feet, and she called back quickly, “Uncle Levi, were you ever + married?” + </p> + <p> + “Dar, now,” cried Uncle Levi, halting in the path while a gleam of the + wistful humour of his race leaped to his eyes. “Dar, now, is you ever + hyern de likes er dat? Mah'ed! Cose I'se mah'ed. I'se mah'ed quick'en + Marse Bolling. Ain't you never hyern tell er Sarindy?” + </p> + <p> + “Sarindy?” repeated the girl, questioningly. + </p> + <p> + “Lawd, Lawd, Sarindy wuz a moughty likely nigger,” said Uncle Levi, + proudly; “she warn' nuttin' but a fiel' han', but she 'uz a moughty likely + nigger.” + </p> + <p> + “And did she die?” asked Betty, in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Levi rubbed his hands together, and shifted the brushwood upon his + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Who say Sarindy dead?” he demanded sternly, and added with a chuckle, + “she warn' nuttin' but a fiel' han', young miss, en I 'uz Marse Bolling's + body sarvent, so w'en dey sot me loose, dey des sol' Sarindy up de river. + Lawd, Lawd, she warn' nuttin' but a fiel' han', but she 'uz pow'ful + likely.” + </p> + <p> + He went chuckling up the path, and Betty, with a glance at the fading + sunset, started briskly homeward. As she walked she was asking herself, in + a wonder greater than her own love or grief, if Uncle Levi really thought + it funny that they sold Sarindy up the river. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. — THE MAJOR LOSES HIS TEMPER + </h2> + <p> + When Betty reached home the dark had fallen, and as she entered the house + she heard the crackling of fresh logs from the library, and saw her mother + sitting alone in the firelight, which flickered softly on her pearl-gray + silk and ruffles of delicate lace. + </p> + <p> + She was humming in a low voice one of the old Scotch ballads the Governor + loved, and as she rocked gently in her rosewood chair, her shadow flitted + to and fro upon the floor. One loose bell sleeve hung over the carved arm + of the rocker, and the fingers of her long white hand, so fragile that it + was like a flower, played silently upon the polished wood. + </p> + <p> + As the girl entered she looked up quickly. “You haven't been wandering off + by yourself again?” she asked reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is quite safe, mamma,” replied Betty, impatiently. “I didn't meet + a soul except free Levi.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father wouldn't like it, my dear,” returned Mrs. Ambler, in the tone + in which she might have said, “it is forbidden in the Scriptures,” and she + added after a moment, “but where is Petunia? You might, at least, take + Petunia with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Petunia is such a chatterbox,” said Betty, tossing her wraps upon a + chair, “and if she sees a cricket in the road she shrieks, 'Gawd er live, + Miss Betty,' and jumps on the other side of me. No, I can't stand + Petunia.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down upon an ottoman at her mother's feet, and rested her chin in + her clasped hands. + </p> + <p> + “But did you never go walking in your life, mamma?” she questioned. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler looked a little startled. “Never alone, my dear,” she replied + with dignity. “Why, I shouldn't have thought of such a thing. There was a + path to a little arbour in the glen at my old home, I remember,—I + think it was at least a quarter of a mile away,—and I sometimes + strolled there with your father; but there were a good many briers about, + so I usually preferred to stay on the lawn.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was clear and sweet, but it had none of the humour which gave + piquancy to Betty's. It might soothe, caress, even reprimand, but it could + never jest; for life to Mrs. Ambler was soft, yet serious, like a + continued prayer to a pleasant and tender Deity. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure I don't see how you stood it,” said Betty, sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I rode, my dear,” returned her mother. “I used to ride very often + with your father or—or one of the others. I had a brown mare named + Zephyr.” + </p> + <p> + “And you never wanted to be alone, never for a single instant?” + </p> + <p> + “Alone?” repeated Mrs. Ambler, wonderingly, “why, of course I read my + Bible and meditated an hour every morning. In my youth it would have been + considered very unladylike not to do it, and I'm sure there's no better + way of beginning the day than with a chapter in the Bible and a little + meditation. I wish you would try it, Betty.” Her eyes were upon her + daughter, and she added in an unchanged voice, “Don't you think you might + manage to make your hair lie smoother, dear? It's very pretty, I know; but + the way it curls about your face is just a bit untidy, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Then, as the Governor came in from his day in town, she turned eagerly to + hear the news of his latest speech. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I've had a great day, Julia,” began the Governor; but as he stooped + to kiss her, she gave a little cry of alarm. “Why, you're frozen through!” + she exclaimed. “Betty, stir the fire, and make your father sit down by the + fender. Shall I mix you a toddy, Mr. Ambler?” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut!” protested the Governor, laughing, “a touch of the wind is good + for the blood, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + There was a light track of snow where he had crossed the room, and as he + rested his foot upon the brass knob of the fender, the ice clinging to his + riding-boot melted and ran down upon the hearth. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I've had a great day,” he repeated heartily, holding his plump white + hands to the flames. “It was worth the trip to test the spirit of + Virginia; and it's sound, Julia, as sound as steel. Why, when I said in my + speech—you'll remember the place, my dear—that if it came to a + choice between slavery and the Union, we'd ship the negroes back to + Africa, and hold on to the flag, I was applauded to the echo, and it would + have done you good to hear the cheers.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew it would be so, Mr. Ambler,” returned his wife, with conviction. + “Even if they thought otherwise I was sure your speech would convince + them. Dr. Crump was talking to me only yesterday, and he said that he had + heard both Mr. Yancey and Mr. Douglas, and that neither of them—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, my love, I know,” interposed the Governor, waving his hand. “I + have myself heard the good doctor commit the same error of judgment. But, + remember, it is easy to convince a man who already thinks as you do; and + since the Major has gone over to the Democrats, the doctor has grown + Whiggish, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler flushed. “I'm sure I don't see why you should deny that you + have a talent for oratory,” she said gravely. “I have sometimes thought it + was why I fell in love with you, you made such a beautiful speech the + first day I met you at the tournament in Leicesterburg. Fred Dulany + crowned me, you remember; and in your speech you brought in so many lovely + things about flowers and women.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Julia, Julia,” sighed the Governor, “so the sins of my youth are + rising to confound me,” and he added quickly to Betty, “Isn't that some + one coming up the drive, daughter?” + </p> + <p> + Betty ran to the window and drew back the damask curtains. “It's the + Major, papa,” she said, nodding to the old gentleman through the glass, + “and he does look so cold. Go out and bring him in, and don't—please + don't talk horrid politics to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll not, daughter, on my word, I'll not,” declared the Governor, and he + wore the warning as a breastplate when he went out to meet his guest. + </p> + <p> + The Major, in his tight black broadcloth, entered, with his blandest + smile, and bowed over Mrs. Ambler's hand. + </p> + <p> + “I saw your firelight as I was passing, dear madam,” he began, “and I + couldn't go on without a glimpse of you, though I knew that Molly was + waiting for me at the end of three cold miles.” + </p> + <p> + He put his arm about Betty and drew her to him. + </p> + <p> + “You must borrow some of your sister's blushes, my child,” he said; “it + isn't right to grow pale at your age. I don't like to see it,” and then, + as Virginia came shyly in, he held out his other hand, and accused her of + stealing his boy's heart away from him. “But we old folks must give place + to the young,” he continued cheerfully; “it's nature, and it's human + nature, too.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be a dull day when you give place to any one else, Major,” + returned the Governor, politely. + </p> + <p> + “And a far off one I trust,” added Mrs. Ambler, with her plaintive smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well, maybe so,” responded the Major, settling himself in an easy chair + beside the fire. “Any way, you can't blame an old man for fighting for his + own, as my friend Harry Smith put it when he lost his leg in the War of + 1812. 'By God, it belongs to me,' he roared to the surgeon, 'and if it + comes off, I'll take it off myself, sir.' It took six men to hold him, and + when it was over all he said was, 'Well, gentlemen, you mustn't blame a + man for fighting for his own.' Ah, he was a sad scamp, was Harry, a sad + scamp. He used to say that he didn't know whether he preferred a battle or + a dinner, but he reckoned a battle was better for the blood. And to think + that he died in his bed at last like any Christian.” + </p> + <p> + “That reminds me of Dick Wythe, who never needed any tonic but a fight,” + returned the Governor, thoughtfully. “You remember Dick, don't you, Major?—a + hard drinker, poor fellow, but handsome enough to have stepped out of + Homer. I've been sitting by him at the post-office on a spring day, and + seen him get up and slap a passer-by on the face as coolly as he'd take + his toddy. Of course the man would slap back again, and when it was over + Dick would make his politest bow, and say pleasantly, 'Thank you, sir, I + felt a touch of the gout.' He told me once that if it was only a twinge, + he chose a man of his own size; but if it was a positive wrench, he struck + out at the biggest he could find.” + </p> + <p> + The Major leaned back, laughing. “That was Dick, sir, that was Dick!” he + exclaimed, “and it was his father before him. Why, I've had my own blows + with Taylor Wythe in his day, and never a hard word afterward, never a + word.” Then his face clouded. “I saw Dick's brother Tom in town this + morning,” he added. “A sneaking fellow, who hasn't the spirit in his whole + body that was in his father's little finger. Why, what do you suppose he + had the impudence to tell me, sir? Some one had asked him, he said, what + he should do if Virginia went to war, and he had answered that he'd stay + at home and build an asylum for the fools that brought it on.” He turned + his indignant face upon Mrs. Ambler, and she put in a modest word of + sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't judge Tom by his jests, sir,” rejoined the Governor, + persuasively. “His wit takes with the town folks, you know, and I hear + that he's becoming famous as a post-office orator.” + </p> + <p> + “There it is, sir, there it is,” retorted the Major. “I've always said + that the post-offices were the ruin of this country—and that proves + my words. Why, if there were no post-offices, there'd be fewer newspapers; + and if there were fewer newspapers, there wouldn't be the <i>Richmond Whig</i>.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor's glance wandered to his writing table. + </p> + <p> + “Then I should never see my views in print, Major,” he added, smiling; and + a moment afterward, disregarding Mrs. Ambler's warning gestures, he + plunged headlong into a discussion of political conditions. + </p> + <p> + As he talked the Major sat trembling in his chair, his stern face flushing + from red to purple, and the heavy veins upon his forehead standing out + like cords. “Vote for Douglas, sir!” he cried at last. “Vote for the + biggest traitor that has gone scot free since Arnold! Why, I'd sooner go + over to the arch-fiend himself and vote for Seward.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not sure that you won't go farther and fare worse,” replied the + Governor, gravely. “You know me for a loyal Whig, sir, but I tell you + frankly, that I believe Douglas to be the man to save the South. Cast him + off, and you cast off your remaining hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Tush, tush!” retorted the Major, hotly. “I tell you I wouldn't vote to + have Douglas President of Perdition, sir. Don't talk to me about your + loyalty, Peyton Ambler, you're mad—you're all mad! I honestly + believe that I am the only sane man in the state.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor had risen from his chair and was walking nervously about the + room. His eyes were dim, and his face was pallid with emotion. + </p> + <p> + “My God, sir, don't you see where you are drifting?” he cried, stretching + out an appealing hand to the angry old gentleman in the easy chair. + </p> + <p> + “Drifting! Pooh, pooh!” protested the Major, “at least I am not drifting + into a nest of traitors, sir.” + </p> + <p> + And with his wrath hot within he rose to take his leave, very red and + stormy, but retaining the presence of mind to assure Mrs. Ambler that the + glimpse of her fireside would send him rejoicing upon his way. + </p> + <p> + Such burning topics went like strong wine to his head, and like strong + wine left a craving which always carried him back to them in the end. He + would quarrel with the Governor, and make his peace, and at the next + meeting quarrel, without peace-making, again. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, oh, please don't talk horrid politics, papa,” Betty would implore, + when she saw the nose of his dapple mare turn into the drive between the + silver poplars. + </p> + <p> + “I'll not, daughter, I give you my word I'll not,” the Governor would + answer, and for a time the conversation would jog easily along the well + worn roads of county changes and by the green graves of many a long dead + jovial neighbour. While the red logs spluttered on the hearth, they would + sip their glasses of Madeira and amicably weigh the dust of “my friend + Dick Wythe—a fine fellow, in spite of his little weakness.” + </p> + <p> + But in the end the live question would rear its head and come hissing from + among the quiet graves; and Dick Wythe, who loved his fight, or Plaintain + Dudley, in his ruffled shirt, would fall back suddenly to make way for the + wrangling figures of the slaveholder and the abolitionist. + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it, Betty, I can't help it,” the Governor would declare, + when he came back from following the old gentleman to the drive; “did you + see Mr. Yancey step out of Dick Wythe's dry bones to-day? Poor Dick, an + honest fellow who loved no man's quarrel but his own; it's too bad, I + declare it's too bad.” And the next day he would send Betty over to + Chericoke to stroke down the Major's temper. “Slippery are the paths of + the peacemaker,” the girl laughed one morning, when she had ridden home + after an hour of persuasion. “I go on tip-toe because of your + indiscretions, papa. You really must learn to control yourself, the Major + says.” + </p> + <p> + “Control myself!” repeated the Governor, laughing, though he looked a + little vexed. “If I hadn't the control of a stoic, daughter, to say + nothing of the patience of Job, do you think I'd be able to listen calmly + to his tirades? Why, he wants to pull the Government to pieces for his + pleasure,” then he pinched her cheek and added, smiling, “Oh, you sly + puss, why don't you play your pranks upon one of your own age?” + </p> + <p> + Through the long winter many visits were exchanged between Uplands and + Chericoke, and once, on a mild February morning, Mrs. Lightfoot drove over + in her old coach, with her knitting and her handmaid Mitty, to spend the + day. She took Betty back with her, and the girl stayed a week in the queer + old house, where the elm boughs tapped upon her window as she slept, and + the shadows on the crooked staircase frightened her when she went up and + down at night. It seemed to her that the presence of Jane Lightfoot still + haunted the home that she had left. When the snow fell on the roof and the + wind beat against the panes, she would open her door and look out into the + long dim halls, as if she half expected to see a girlish figure in a + muslin gown steal softly to the stair. + </p> + <p> + Dan was less with her in that stormy week than was the memory of his + mother; even Great-aunt Emmeline, whose motto was written on the ivied + glass, grew faint beside the outcast daughter of whom but one pale + miniature remained. Before Betty went back to Uplands she had grown to + know Jane Lightfoot as she knew herself. + </p> + <p> + When the spring came she took up her trowel and followed Aunt Lydia into + the garden. On bright mornings the two would work side by side among the + flowers, kneeling in a row with the small darkies who came to their + assistance. Peter, the gardener, would watch them lazily, as he leaned + upon his hoe, and mutter beneath his breath, “Dat dut wuz dut, en de dut + er de flow'r baids warn' no better'n de dut er de co'n fiel'.” + </p> + <p> + Betty would laugh and shake her head as she planted her square of pansies. + She was working feverishly to overcome her longing for the sight of Dan, + and her growing dread of his return. + </p> + <p> + But at last on a sunny morning, when the lilacs made a lane of purple to + the road, the Major drove over with the news that “the boys would not be + back again till autumn. They'll go abroad for the summer,” he added + proudly. “It's time they were seeing something of the world, you know. + I've always said that a man should see the world before thirty, if he + wants to stay at home after forty,” then he smiled down on Virginia, and + pinched her cheek. “It won't hurt Dan, my dear,” he said cheerfully. “Let + him get a glimpse of artificial flowers, that he may learn the value of + our own beauties.” + </p> + <p> + “Of Great-aunt Emmeline, you mean, sir,” replied Virginia, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, my child,” chuckled the Major. “Let him learn the value of + Great-aunt Emmeline, by all means.” + </p> + <p> + When the old gentleman had gone, Betty went into the garden, where the + grass was powdered with small spring flowers, and gathered a bunch of + white violets for her mother. Aunt Lydia was walking slowly up and down in + the mild sunshine, and her long black shadow passed over the girl as she + knelt in the narrow grass-grown path. A slender spray of syringa drooped + down upon her head, and the warm wind was sweet with the heavy perfume of + the lilacs. On the whitewashed fence a catbird was calling over the + meadow, and another answered from the little bricked-up graveyard, where + the gate was opened only when a fresh grave was to be hollowed out amid + the periwinkle. + </p> + <p> + As Betty knelt there, something in the warm wind, the heavy perfume, or + the old lady's flitting shadow touched her with a sudden melancholy, and + while the tears lay upon her lashes, she started quickly to her feet and + looked about her. But a great peace was in the air, and around her she saw + only the garden wrapped in sunshine, the small spring flowers in bloom, + and Aunt Lydia moving up and down in the box-bordered walk. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. — THE MEETING IN THE TURNPIKE + </h2> + <p> + On a late September afternoon Dan rode leisurely homeward along the + turnpike. He had reached New York some days before, but instead of + hurrying on with Champe, he had sent a careless apology to his expectant + grandparents while he waited over to look up a missing trunk. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what difference does a day make?” he had urged in reply to Champe's + remonstrances, “and after going all the way to Paris, I can't afford to + lose my clothes, you know. I'm not a Leander, my boy, and there's no Hero + awaiting me. You can't expect a fellow to sacrifice the proprieties for + his grandmother.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm going, that's all,” rejoined Champe, and Dan heartily + responded, “God be with you,” as he shook his hand. + </p> + <p> + Now, as he rode slowly up the turnpike on a hired horse, he was beginning + to regret, with an impatient self-reproach, the three tiresome days he had + stolen from his grandfather's delight. It was characteristic of him at the + age of twenty-one that he began to regret what appeared to be a pleasure + only after it had proved to be a disappointment. Had the New York days + been gay instead of dull, it is probable that he would have ridden home + with an easy conscience and a lordly belief that there was something + generous in the spirit of his coming back at all. + </p> + <p> + A damp wind was blowing straight along the turnpike, and the autumn + fields, brilliant with golden-rod and sumach, stretched under a sky which + had clouded over so suddenly that the last rays of sun were still shining + upon the mountains. + </p> + <p> + He had left Uplands a mile behind, throwing, as he passed, a wistful + glance between the silver poplars. A pink dress had fluttered for an + instant beyond the Doric columns, and he had wondered idly if it meant + Virginia, and if she were still the pretty little simpleton of six months + ago. At the thought of her he threw back his head and whistled gayly into + the threatening sky, so gayly that a bluebird flying across the road + hovered round him in the air. The joy of living possessed him at the + moment, a mere physical delight in the circulation of his blood, in the + healthy beating of his pulses. Old things which he had half forgotten + appealed to him suddenly with all the force of fresh impressions. The + beauty of the September fields, the long curve in the white road where the + tuft of cedars grew, the falling valley which went down between the hills, + stood out for him as if bathed in a new and tender light. The youth in him + was looking through his eyes. + </p> + <p> + And the thought of Virginia went merrily with his mood. What a pretty + little simpleton she was, by George, and what a dull world this would be + were it not for the pretty simpletons in pink dresses! Why, in that case + one might as well sit in a library and read Horace and wear red flannel. + One might as well—a drop of rain fell in his face and he lowered his + head. When he did so he saw that Betty was coming along the turnpike, and + that she wore a dress of blue dimity. + </p> + <p> + In a flash of light his first wonder was that he should ever have + preferred pink to blue; his second that a girl in a dimity gown and a + white chip bonnet should be fleeing from a storm along the turnpike. As he + jumped from his horse he faced her a little anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “There's a hard shower coming, and you'll be wet,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And my bonnet!” cried Betty, breathlessly. She untied the blue strings + and swung them over her arm. There was a flush in her cheeks, and as he + drew nearer she fell back quickly. + </p> + <p> + “You—you came so suddenly,” she stammered. + </p> + <p> + He laughed aloud. “Doesn't the Prince always come suddenly?” he asked. + “You are like the wandering princess in the fairy tale—all in blue + upon a lonely road; but this isn't just the place for loitering, you know. + Come up behind me and I'll carry you to shelter in Aunt Ailsey's cabin; it + isn't the first time I've run away, with you, remember.” He lifted her + upon the horse, and started at a gallop up the turnpike. “I'm afraid the + steed doesn't take the romantic view,” he went on lightly. “There, get up, + Barebones, the lady doesn't want to wet her bonnet. Lean against me, + Betty, and I'll try to shelter you.” + </p> + <p> + But the rain was in their faces, and Betty shut her eyes to keep out the + hard bright drops. As she clung with both hands to his arm, her wet cheek + was hidden against his coat, and the blue ribbons on her breast were blown + round them in the wind. It was as if one of her dreams had awakened from + sleep and come boldly out into the daylight; and because it was like a + dream she trembled and was half ashamed of its reality. + </p> + <p> + “Here we are!” he exclaimed, in a moment, as he turned the horse round the + blasted tree into the little path amid the vegetables. “If you are soaked + through, we might as well go on; but if you're half dry, build a fire and + get warm.” He put her down upon the square stone before the doorway, and + slipping the reins over the branch of a young willow tree, followed her + into the cabin. “Why, you're hardly damp,” he said, with his hand on her + arm. “I got the worst of it.” + </p> + <p> + He crossed over to the great open fireplace, and kneeling upon the hearth + raked a hollow in the old ashes; then he kindled a blaze from a pile of + lightwood knots, and stood up brushing his hands together. “Sit down and + get warm,” he said hospitably. “If I may take upon myself to do the duties + of free Levi's castle, I should even invite you to make yourself at home.” + With a laugh he glanced about the bare little room,—at the uncovered + rafters, the rough log walls, and the empty cupboard with its swinging + doors. In one corner there was a pallet hidden by a ragged patchwork + quilt, and facing it a small pine table upon which stood an ash-cake ready + for the embers. + </p> + <p> + The laughter was still in his eyes when he looked at Betty. “Now where's + the sense of going walking in the rain?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't,” replied Betty, quickly. “It was clear when I started, and the + clouds came up before I knew it. I had been across the fields to the + woods, and I was coming home along the turnpike.” She loosened her hair, + and kneeling upon the smooth stones, dried it before the flames. As she + shook the curling ends a sparkling shower of rain drops was scattered over + Dan. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't see much sense in that,” he returned slowly, with his gaze + upon her. + </p> + <p> + She laughed and held out her moist hands to the fire. “Well, there was + more than you see,” she responded pleasantly, and added, while she smiled + at him with narrowed eyes, “dear me, you've grown so much older.” + </p> + <p> + “And you've grown so much prettier,” he retorted boldly. + </p> + <p> + A flush crossed her face, and her look grew a little wistful. “The rain + has bewitched you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You may call me a fool if you like,” he pursued, as if she had not + spoken, “but I did not know until to-day that you had the most beautiful + hair in the world. Why, it is always sunshine about you.” He put out his + hand to touch a loose curl that hung upon her shoulder, then drew it + quickly back. “I don't suppose I might,” he asked humbly. + </p> + <p> + Betty gathered up her hair with shaking hands, which gleamed white in the + firelight, and carelessly twisted it about her head. + </p> + <p> + “It is not nearly so pretty as Virginia's,” she said in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Virginia's? Oh, nonsense!” he exclaimed, and walked rapidly up and down + the room. + </p> + <p> + Beyond the open door the rain fell heavily; he heard it beating softly on + the roof and dripping down upon the smooth square stone before the + threshold. A red maple leaf was washed in from the path and lay a wet bit + of colour upon the floor. “I wonder where old man Levi is?” he said + suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “In the rain, I'm afraid,” Betty answered, “and he has rheumatism, too; he + was laid up for three months last winter.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke quietly, but she was conscious of a quiver from head to foot, as + if a strong wind had swept over her. Through the doorway she saw the young + willow tree trembling in the storm and felt curiously akin to it. + </p> + <p> + Dan came slowly back to the hearth, and leaning against the crumbling + mortar of the chimney, looked thoughtfully down upon her. “Do you know + what I thought of when I saw you with your hair down, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I don't suppose I'd thought of it for years,” he went on quickly; “but + when you took your hair down, and looked up at me so small and white, it + all came back to me as if it were yesterday. I remembered the night I + first came along this road—God-forsaken little chap that I was—and + saw you standing out there in your nightgown—with your little cold + bare feet. The moonlight was full upon you, and I thought you were a + ghost. At first I wanted to run away; but you spoke, and I stood still and + listened. I remember what it was, Betty.—'Mr. Devil, I'm going in,' + you said. Did you take me for the devil, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled up at him, and he saw her kind eyes fill with tears. The + wavering smile only deepened the peculiar tenderness of her look. + </p> + <p> + “I had been sitting in the briers for an hour,” he resumed, after a + moment; “it was a day and night since I had eaten a bit of bread, and I + had been digging up sassafras roots with my bare fingers. I remember that + I rooted at one for nearly an hour, and found that it was sumach, after + all. Then I got up and went on again, and there you were standing in the + moonlight—” He broke off, hesitated an instant, and added with the + gallant indiscretion of youth, “By George, that ought to have made a man + of me!” + </p> + <p> + “And you are a man,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “A man!” he appeared to snap his fingers at the thought. “I am a + weather-vane, a leaf in the wind, a—an ass. I haven't known my own + mind ten minutes during the last two years, and the only thing I've ever + gone honestly about is my own pleasure. Oh, yes, I have the courage of my + inclinations, I admit.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't understand—what does it mean?—I don't + understand,” faltered Betty, vaguely troubled by his mood. + </p> + <p> + “Mean? Why, it means that I've been ruined, and it's too late to mend me. + I'm no better than a pampered poodle dog. It means that I've gotten + everything I wanted, until I begin to fancy there's nothing under heaven I + can't get.” Then, in one of his quick changes of temper, his face cleared + with a burst of honest laughter. + </p> + <p> + She grew merry instantly, and as she smiled up at him, he saw her eyes + like rays of hazel light between her lashes. “Has the black crow gone?” + she asked. “Do you know when I have a gray day Mammy calls it the black + crow flying by. As long as his shadow is over you, there's always a gloom + at the brain, she says. Has he quite gone by?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he flew by quickly,” he answered, laughing, “he didn't even stay to + flap his wings.” Then he became suddenly grave. “I wonder what kind of a + man you'll fall in love with, Betty?” he said abruptly. + </p> + <p> + She drew back startled, and her eyes reminded him of those of a frightened + wild thing he had come upon in the spring woods one day. As she shrank + from him in her dim blue dress, her hair fell from its coil and lay like a + gold bar across her bosom, which fluttered softly with her quickened + breath. + </p> + <p> + “I? Why, how can I tell?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “He'll not be black and ugly, I dare say?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, regaining her composure. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, fair and beautiful,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, as unlike me as day from night?” + </p> + <p> + “As day from night,” she echoed, and went on after a moment, her girlish + visions shining in her eyes:— + </p> + <p> + “He will be a man, at least,” she said slowly, “a man with a faith to + fight for—to live for—to make him noble. He may be a beggar by + the roadside, but he will be a beggar with dreams. He will be forever + travelling to some great end—some clear purpose.” The last words + came so faintly that he bent nearer to hear. A deep flush swept to her + forehead, and she turned from him to the fire. These were things that she + had hidden even from Virginia. + </p> + <p> + But as he looked steadily down upon her, something of her own pure fervour + was in his face. Her vivid beauty rose like a flame to his eyes, and for a + single instant it seemed to him that he had never looked upon a woman + until to-day. + </p> + <p> + “So you would sit with him in the dust of the roadside?” he asked, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “But the dust is beautiful when the sun shines on it,” answered the girl; + “and on wet days we should go into the pine woods, and on fair ones rest + in the open meadows; and we should sing with the robins, and make friends + with the little foxes.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed softly. “Ah, Betty, Betty, I know you now for a dreamer of + dreams. With all your pudding-mixing and your potato-planting you are + moon-mad like the rest of us.” + </p> + <p> + She made a disdainful little gesture. “Why, I never planted a potato in my + life.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't scoff, dear lady,” he returned warningly; “too great literalness is + the sin of womankind, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't care in the least for vegetable-growing,” she persisted + seriously. + </p> + <p> + The humour twinkled in his eyes. “Thriftless woman, would you prefer to + beg?” + </p> + <p> + “When the Major rode by,” laughed Betty; “but when I heard you coming, I'd + lie hidden among the briers, and I'd scatter signs for other gypsies that + read, 'Beware the Montjoy.'” + </p> + <p> + His face darkened and he frowned. “So it's the Montjoy you're afraid of,” + he rejoined gloomily. “I'm not all Lightfoot, though I'm apt to forget it; + the Montjoy blood is there, all the same, and it isn't good blood.” + </p> + <p> + “Your blood is good,” said Betty, warmly. + </p> + <p> + He laughed again and met her eyes with a look of whimsical tenderness. + “Make me your beggar, Betty,” he prayed, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “You a beggar!” She shook a scornful head. “I can shut my eyes and see + your fortune, sir, and it doesn't lie upon the roadside. I see a well-fed + country gentleman who rises late to breakfast and storms when the birds + are overdone, who drinks his two cups of coffee and eats syrup upon his + cakes—” + </p> + <p> + “O pleasant prophetess!” he threw in. + </p> + <p> + “I look and see him riding over the rich fields in the early morning, + watching from horseback the planting and the growing and the ripening of + the corn. He has a dozen servants to fetch the whip he drops, and a dozen + others to hold his bridle when he pleases to dismount; the dogs leap round + him in the drive, and he brushes away the one that licks his face. I see + him grow stout and red-faced as he reads a dull Latin volume beside his + bottle of old port—there's your fortune, sir, the silver, if you + please.” She finished in a whining voice, and rose to drop a courtesy. + </p> + <p> + “On my word, you're a witch, Betty,” he exclaimed, laughing, “a regular + witch on a broomstick.” + </p> + <p> + “Does the likeness flatter you? Shall I touch it up a bit? Just a dash + more of red in the face?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I reckon it's true as prophecy ever was,” he said easily. “It isn't + likely that I'll ever be a beggar, despite your kindly wishes for my + soul's welfare; and, on the whole, I think I'd rather not. When all's said + and done, I'd rather own my servants and my cultivated acres, and come + down late to hot cakes than sit in the dust by the roadside and eat sour + grapes. It may not be so good for the soul, but it's vastly more + comfortable; and I'm not sure that a fat soul in a lean body is the best + of life, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “At least it doesn't give one gout,” retorted Betty, mercilessly, adding + as she went to the door: “but the rain is holding up, and I must be going. + I'll borrow your horse, if you please, Dan.” She tied on her flattened + bonnet, and with her foot on the threshold, stood looking across the wet + fields, where each spear of grass pieced a string of shining rain drops. + Over the mountains the clouds tossed in broken masses, and loose streamers + of vapour drifted down into the lower foldings of the hills. The cool + smell of the moist road came to her on the wind. + </p> + <p> + Dan unfastened the reins from the young willow, and led the horse to the + stone at the entrance. Then he threw his coat over the dampened saddle and + lifted Betty upon it. “Pooh! I'm as tough as a pine knot.” He scoffed at + her protests. “There, sit steady; I'd better hold you on, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + Slipping the reins loosely over his arm, he laid his hand upon the blue + folds of her skirt. “If you feel yourself going, just catch my shoulder,” + he added; “and now we're off.” + </p> + <p> + They left the little path and went slowly down the turnpike, under the + dripping trees. Across the fields a bird was singing after the storm, and + the notes were as fresh as the smell of the rain-washed earth. A fuller + splendour seemed to have deepened suddenly upon the meadows, and the + golden-rod ran in streams of fire across the landscape. + </p> + <p> + “Everything looks so changed,” said Betty, wistfully; “are you sure that + we are still in the same world, Dan?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure?” he looked up at her gayly. “I'm sure of but one thing in this + life, Betty, and that is that you should thank your stars you met me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't doubt that I should have gotten home somehow,” responded Betty, + ungratefully, “so don't flatter yourself that you have saved even my + bonnet.” From its blue-lined shadow she smiled brightly down upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, all the same, I dare to be grateful,” he rejoined. “Even if you + haven't saved my hat,—and I can't honestly convince myself that you + have,—I thank my stars I met you, Betty.” He threw back his head and + sang softly to himself as they went on under the scudding clouds. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. — IF THIS BE LOVE + </h2> + <p> + An hour later, Cephas, son of Cupid, gathering his basketful of chips at + the woodpile, beheld his young master approaching by the branch road, and + started shrieking for the house. “Hi! hit's Marse Dan! hit's Marse Dan!” + he yelled to his father Cupid in the pantry; “I seed 'im fu'st! Fo' de + Lawd, I seed 'im fu'st!” and the Major, hearing the words, appeared + instantly at the door of his library. + </p> + <p> + “It's the boy,” he called excitedly. “Bless my soul, Molly, the boy has + come!” + </p> + <p> + The old lady came hurriedly downstairs, pinning on her muslin cap, and by + the time Dan had dismounted at the steps the whole household was assembled + to receive him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, my boy,” exclaimed the Major, moving nervously about, “this + is a surprise, indeed. We didn't look for you until next week. Well, + well.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away to wipe his eyes, while Dan caught his grandmother in his + arms and kissed her a dozen times. The joy of these simple souls touched + him with a new tenderness; he felt unworthy of his grandmother's kisses + and the Major's tears. Why had he stayed away when his coming meant so + much? What was there in all the world worth the closer knitting of these + strong blood ties? + </p> + <p> + “By George, but I'm glad to get here,” he said heartily. “There's nothing + I've seen across the water that comes up to being home again; and the + sight of your faces is better than the wonders of the world, I declare. + Ah, Cupid, old man, I'm glad to see you. And Aunt Rhody and Congo, how are + you all? Why, where's Big Abel? Don't tell me he isn't here to welcome + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hyer I is, young Marster, hyer I is,” cried Big Abel, stretching out his + hand over Congo's head, and “Hyer I is, too,” shouted Cephas from behind + him. “I seed you fu'st, fo' de Lawd, I seed you fu'st!” + </p> + <p> + They gathered eagerly round him, and with a laugh, and a word for one and + all, he caught the outstretched hands, scattering his favours like a young + Jove. “Yes, I've remembered you—there, don't smother me. Did you + think I'd dare to show my face, Aunt Rhody, without the gayest neckerchief + in Europe? Why, I waited over in New York just to see that it was safe. + Oh, don't smother me, I say.” The dogs came bounding in, and he greeted + them with much the same affectionate condescension, caressing them as they + sprang upon him, and pushing away the one that licked his face. When the + overseer ran in hastily to shake his hand, there was no visible change in + his manner. He greeted black and white with a courtesy which marked the + social line, with an affability which had a touch of the august. Had the + gulf between them been less impassable, he would not have dared the hearty + handshake, the genial word, the pat upon the head—these were a + tribute which he paid to the very humble. + </p> + <p> + When the servants had streamed chattering out through the back door, he + put his arms about the old people and led them into the library. “Why, + what's become of Champe?” he inquired, glancing complacently round the + book-lined walls. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you mustn't expect to see anything of Champe these days,” replied the + Major, waiting for Mrs. Lightfoot to be seated before he drew up his + chair. “His heart's gone roving, I tell him, and he follows mighty closely + after it. If you don't find him at Uplands, you've only to inquire at + Powell Hall.” + </p> + <p> + “Uplands!” exclaimed Dan, hearing the one word. “What is he doing at + Uplands?” + </p> + <p> + The Major chuckled as he settled himself in his easy chair and stretched + out his slippered feet. “Well, I should say that he was doing a very + commendable thing, eh, Molly?” he rejoined jokingly. + </p> + <p> + “He's losing his head, if that's what you mean,” retorted the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “Not his head, but his heart, my dear,” blandly corrected the Major, “and + I repeat that it is a very commendable thing to do—why, where would + you be to-day, madam, if I hadn't fallen in love with you?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot sniffed as she unwound her knitting. “I don't doubt that I + should be quite as well off, Mr. Lightfoot,” she replied convincingly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, maybe so, maybe so,” admitted the Major, with a sigh; “but I'm very + sure that I shouldn't be, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady softened visibly, but she only remarked:— + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad that you have found it out, sir,” and clicked her needles. + </p> + <p> + Dan, who had been wandering aimlessly about the room, threw himself into a + chair beside his grandmother and caught at her ball of yarn. + </p> + <p> + “It's Virginia, I suppose,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + The Major laughed until his spectacles clouded. + </p> + <p> + “Virginia!” he gasped, wiping the glasses upon his white silk + handkerchief. “Listen to the boy, Molly, he believes every last one of us—myself + to boot, I reckon—to be in love with Miss Virginia.” + </p> + <p> + “If he does, he believes as many men have done before him,” interposed + Mrs. Lightfoot, with a homely philosophy. + </p> + <p> + “Well, isn't it Virginia?” asked Dan. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you frankly,” pursued the Major, in a confidential voice, “that if + you want a rival with Virginia, you'll be apt to find a stout one in Jack + Morson. He was back a week ago, and he's a fine fellow—a first-rate + fellow. I declare, he came over here one evening and I couldn't begin a + single quotation from Horace that he didn't know the end of it. On my + word, he's not only a fine fellow, but a cultured gentleman. You may + remember, sir, that I have always maintained that the two most refining + influences upon the manners were to be found in the society of ladies and + a knowledge of the Latin language.” + </p> + <p> + Dan gave the yarn an impatient jerk. “Tell me, grandma,” he besought her. + </p> + <p> + As was her custom, the old lady came quickly to the point and appeared to + transfix the question with the end of her knitting-needle. “I really think + that it is Betty, my child,” she answered calmly. + </p> + <p> + “What does he mean by falling in love with Betty?” demanded Dan, while he + rose to his feet, and the ball of yarn fell upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask me what he means, sir,” protested the Major. “If a man in love + has any meaning in him, it takes a man in love to find it out. Maybe + you'll be better at it than I am; but I give it up—I give it up.” + </p> + <p> + With a gloomy face Dan sat down again, and resting his arms on his knees, + stared at the vase of golden-rod between the tall brass andirons. Cupid + came in to light the lamps, and stopped to inquire if Mrs. Lightfoot would + like a blaze to be started in the fireplace. “It's a little chilly, my + dear,” remarked the Major, slapping his arm. “There's been a sharp change + in the weather;” and Cupid removed the vase of golden-rod and laid an + armful of sticks crosswise on the andirons. + </p> + <p> + “Draw up to the hearth, my boy,” said the Major, when the fire burned. + “Even if you aren't cold, it looks cheerful, you know—draw up, draw + up,” and he at once began to question his grandson about the London + streets, evoking as he talked dim memories of his own early days in + England. He asked after St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey half as if they + were personal friends of whose death he feared to hear; and upon being + answered that they still stood unchanged, he pressed eagerly for the + gossip of the Strand and Fleet Street. Was Dr. Johnson's coffee-house + still standing? and did Dan remember to look up the haunts of Mr. Addison + in his youth? “I've gotten a good deal out of Champe,” he confessed, “but + I like to hear it again—I like to hear it. Why, it takes me back + forty years, and makes me younger.” + </p> + <p> + And when Champe came in from his ride, he found the old gentleman upon the + hearth-rug, his white hair tossing over his brow, as he recited from Mr. + Addison with the zest of a schoolboy of a hundred years ago. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Beau! I hope you got your clothes,” was Champe's greeting, as he + shook his cousin's hand. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they turned up all right,” said Dan, carelessly, “and, by-the-way, + there was an India shawl for grandma in that very trunk.” + </p> + <p> + Champe crossed to the fireplace and stood fingering one of the tall vases. + “It's a pity you didn't stop by Uplands,” he observed. “You'd have found + Virginia more blooming than ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, is that so?” returned Dan, flushing, and a moment afterward he added + with an effort, “I met Betty in the turnpike, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Six months ago, he remembered, he had raved out his passion for Virginia, + and to-day he could barely stammer Betty's name. A great silence; seemed + to surround the thought of her. + </p> + <p> + “So she told me,” replied Champe, looking steadily at Dan. For a moment he + seemed about to speak again; then changing his mind, he left the room with + a casual remark about dressing for supper. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go, too,” said Dan, rising from his seat. “If you'll believe me, I + haven't spoken to my old love, Aunt Emmeline. So proud a beauty is not to + be treated with neglect.” + </p> + <p> + He lighted one of the tall candles upon the mantel-piece, and taking it in + his hand, crossed the hall and went into the panelled parlour, where + Great-aunt Emmeline, in the lustre of her amber brocade, smiled her + changeless smile from out the darkened canvas. There was wit in her curved + lip and spirit in her humorous gray eyes, and the marble whiteness of her + brow, which had brought her many lovers in her lifetime, shone undimmed + beneath the masses of her chestnut hair. With her fair body gone to dust, + she still held her immortal apple by the divine right of her remembered + beauty. + </p> + <p> + As Dan looked at her it seemed to him for the first time that he found a + likeness to Betty—to Betty as she smiled up at him from the hearth + in Aunt Ailsey's cabin. It was not in the mouth alone, nor in the eyes + alone, but in something indefinable which belonged to every feature—in + the kindly fervour that shone straight out from the smiling face. Ah, he + knew now why Aunt Emmeline had charmed a generation. + </p> + <p> + He blew out the candle, and went back into the hall where the front door + stood half open. Then taking down his hat, he descended the steps and + strolled thoughtfully up and down the gravelled drive. + </p> + <p> + The air was still moist, and beyond the gray meadows the white clouds + huddled like a flock of sheep upon the mountain side. From the branches of + the old elms fell a few yellowed leaves, and among them birds were flying + back and forth with short cries. A faint perfume came from the high urns + beside the steps, where a flowering creeper was bruised against the marble + basins. + </p> + <p> + With a cigar in his mouth, Dan passed slowly to and fro against the + lighted windows, and looked up tenderly at the gray sky and the small + flying birds. There was a glow in his face, for, with a total cessation of + time, he was back in Aunt Ailsey's cabin, and the rain was on the roof. + </p> + <p> + In one of those rare moods in which the least subjective mind becomes that + of a mystic, he told himself that this hour had waited for him from the + beginning of time—had bided patiently at the crossroads until he + came up with it at last. All his life he had been travelling to meet it, + not in ignorance, but with half-unconscious knowledge, and all the while + the fire had burned brightly on the hearth, and Betty had knelt upon the + flat stones drying her hair. Again it seemed to him that he had never + looked into a woman's face before, and the shame of his wandering fancies + was heavy upon him. He called himself a fool because he had followed for a + day the flutter of Virginia's gown, and a dotard for the many loves he had + sworn to long before. In the twilight he saw Betty's eyes, grave, + accusing, darkened with reproach; and he asked himself half hopefully if + she cared—if it were possible for a moment that she cared. There had + been humour in her smile, but, for all his effort, he could bring back no + deeper emotion than pity or disdain—and it seemed to him that both + the pity and the disdain were for himself. + </p> + <p> + The library window was lifted suddenly, as the Major called out to him + that “supper was on its way”; and, with an impatient movement of the + shoulders, he tossed his cigar into the grass and went indoors. + </p> + <p> + The next afternoon he rode over to Uplands, and found Virginia alone in + the dim, rose-scented parlour, where the quaint old furniture stood in the + gloom of a perpetual solemnity. The girl, herself, made a bright spot of + colour against the damask curtains, and as he looked at her he felt the + same delight in her loveliness that he felt in Great-aunt Emmeline's. + Virginia had become a picture to him, and nothing more. + </p> + <p> + When he entered she greeted him with her old friendliness, gave him both + her cool white hands, and asked him a hundred shy questions about the + countries over sea. She was delicately cordial, demurely glad. + </p> + <p> + “It seems an age since you went away,” she said flatteringly, “and so many + things have happened—one of the big trees blew down on the lawn, and + Jack Powell broke his arm—and—and Mr. Morson has been back + twice, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” he answered, “but I rather think the tree's the biggest + thing, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is the biggest,” admitted Virginia, sweetly. “I couldn't get my + arms halfway round it—and Betty was so distressed when it fell that + she cried half the day, just as if it were a human being. Aunt Lydia has + been trying to build a rockery over the root, and she's going to cover it + with portulaca.” She went to the long window and pointed out the spot + where it had stood. “There are so many one hardly misses it,” she added + cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour Dan asked timidly for Betty, to hear that she had + gone riding earlier with Champe. “She is showing him a new path over the + mountain,” said Virginia. “I really think she knows them all by heart.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope she hasn't taken to minding cattle,” observed Dan, irritably. “I + believe in women keeping at home, you know,” and as he rose to go he told + Virginia that she had “an Irish colour.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been sitting in the sun,” she answered shyly, going back to the + window when he left the room. + </p> + <p> + Dan went quickly out to Prince Rupert, but with his foot in the stirrup, + he saw Miss Lydia training a coral honeysuckle at the end of the portico, + and turned away to help her fasten up a broken string. “It blew down + yesterday,” she explained sadly. “The storm did a great deal of damage to + the flowers, and the garden looked almost desolate this morning, but Betty + and I worked there until dinner. I tell Betty she must take my place among + the flowers, she has such a talent for making them bloom. Why, if you will + come into the garden, you will be surprised to see how many summer plants + are still in blossom.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke wistfully, and Dan looked down on her with a tender reverence + which became him strangely. “Why, I shall be delighted to go with you,” he + answered. “Do you know I never see you without thinking of your roses? You + seem to carry their fragrance in your clothes.” There was a touch of the + Major's flattery in his manner, but Miss Lydia's pale cheeks flushed with + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Smiling faintly, she folded her knitted shawl over her bosom, and he + followed her across the grass to the little whitewashed gate of the + garden. There she entered softly, as if she were going into church, her + light steps barely treading down the tall grass strewn with rose leaves. + Beyond the high box borders the gay October roses bent toward her beneath + a light wind, and in the square beds tangles of summer plants still + flowered untouched by frost. The splendour of the scarlet sage and the + delicate clusters of the four-o'clocks and sweet Williams made a single + blur of colour in the sunshine, and under the neatly clipped box hedges, + blossoms of petunias and verbenas straggled from their trim rows across + the walk. + </p> + <p> + As he stood beside her, Dan drew in a long breath of the fragrant air. “I + declare, it is like standing in a bunch of pinks,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “There has been no hard frost as yet,” returned Miss Lydia, looking up at + him. “Even the verbenas were not nipped, and I don't think I ever had them + bloom so late. Why, it is almost the first of October.” + </p> + <p> + They strolled leisurely up and down the box-bordered paths, Miss Lydia + talking in her gentle, monotonous voice, and Dan bending his head as he + flicked at the tall grass with his riding-whip. + </p> + <p> + “He is a great lover of flowers,” said the old lady after he had gone, and + thought in her simple heart that she spoke the truth. + </p> + <p> + For two days Dan's pride held him back, but the third being Sunday, he + went over in the afternoon with the pretence of a message from his + grandmother. As the day was mild the great doors were standing open, and + from the drive he saw Mrs. Ambler sitting midway of the hall, with her + Bible in her hand and her class of little negroes at her feet. Beyond her + there was a strip of green and the autumn glory of the garden, and the + sunlight coming from without fell straight upon the leaves of the open + book. + </p> + <p> + She was reading from the gospel of St. John, and she did not pause until + the chapter was finished; then she looked up and said, smiling: “Shall I + ask you to join my class, or will you look for the girls out of doors? + Virginia, I think, is in the garden, and Betty has just gone riding down + the tavern road.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll go after Betty,” replied Dan, promptly, and with a gay “good-by” + he untied Prince Rupert and started at a canter for the turnpike. + </p> + <p> + A quarter of a mile beyond Uplands the tavern road branched off under a + deep gloom of forest trees. The white sand of the turnpike gave place to a + heavy clay soil, which went to dust in summer and to mud in winter, + impeding equally the passage of wheels. On either side a thick wood ran + for several miles, and the sunshine filtered in bright drops through the + green arch overhead. + </p> + <p> + When Dan first caught sight of Betty she was riding in a network of sun + and shade, her face lifted to the bit of blue sky that showed between the + tree-tops. At the sound of his horse she threw a startled look behind her, + and then, drawing aside from the sunken ruts in the “corduroy” road, + waited, smiling, until he galloped up. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's never you!” she exclaimed, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's not my fault, Betty,” he gayly returned. “If I had my way, I + assure you it would be always I. You mustn't blame a fellow for his ill + luck, you know.” Then he laid his hand on her bridle and faced her + sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Betty, you haven't been treating me right,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She threw out a deprecating little gesture. “Do I need to put on more + humility?” she questioned, humbly. “Is it respect that I have failed in, + sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, bosh!” he interposed, rudely. “I want to know why you went riding + three afternoons with Champe—it wasn't fair of you, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Betty sighed sadly. “No one has ever asked me before why I went riding + with Champe,” she confessed, “and the mighty secret has quite gnawed into + my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Share it with me,” begged Dan, gallantly, “only I warn you that I shall + have no mercy upon Champe.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Champe,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “At least he went riding with you three afternoons—lucky Champe!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, so he did; and must I tell you why?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. “You shan't go home until you do,” he declared grimly. + </p> + <p> + Betty reached up and plucked a handful of aspen leaves, scattering them + upon the road. + </p> + <p> + “By what right, O horse-taming Hector (isn't that the way they talk in + Homer?)” + </p> + <p> + “By the right of the strongest, O fair Helena (it's the way they talk in + translations of Homer).” + </p> + <p> + “How very learned you are!” sighed Betty. + </p> + <p> + “How very lovely you are!” sighed Dan. + </p> + <p> + “And you will really force me to tell you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “For your own sake, don't let it come to that,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “But are you sure that you are strong enough to hear it?” + </p> + <p> + “I am strong enough for anything,” he assured her, “except suspense.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if I must, then let me whisper it—I went because—” she + drew back, “I implore you not to uproot the forest in your wrath.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak quickly,” urged Dan, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “I went because—brace yourself—I went because he asked me.” + </p> + <p> + “O Betty!” he cried, and caught her hand. + </p> + <p> + “O Dan!” she laughed, and drew her hand away. + </p> + <p> + “You deserve to be whipped,” he went on sternly. “How dare you play with + the green-eyed monster I'm wearing on my sleeve? Haven't you heard his + growls, madam?” + </p> + <p> + “He's a pretty monster,” said Betty. “I should like to pat him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he needs to be gently stroked, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he wake often—poor monster?” + </p> + <p> + Dan lowered his abashed eyes to the road. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that—ah, that depends—” he began awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that depends upon your fancies,” finished Betty, and rode on rapidly. + </p> + <p> + It was a moment before he came up with her, and when he did so his face + was flushed. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind about my fancies, Betty?” he asked humbly. + </p> + <p> + “I?” said Betty, disdainfully. “Why, what have I to do with them?” + </p> + <p> + “With my fancies? nothing—so help me God—nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear it,” she replied quietly, stroking her horse. Her + cheeks were glowing and she let the overhanging branches screen her face. + As they rode on silently they heard the rustling of the leaves beneath the + horses' feet, and the soft wind playing through the forest. A chain of + lights and shadows ran before them into the misty purple of the distance, + where the dim trees went up like gothic spires. + </p> + <p> + Betty's hands were trembling, but fearing the stillness, she spoke in a + careless voice. + </p> + <p> + “When do you go back to college?” she inquired politely. + </p> + <p> + “In two days—but it's all the same to you, I dare say.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it isn't. I shall be very sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't lie to me,” he returned irritably. “I beg your pardon, but a + lie is a lie, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “So I suppose, but I wasn't lying—I shall be very sorry.” + </p> + <p> + A fiery maple branch fell between them, and he impatiently thrust it + aside. + </p> + <p> + “When you treat me like this you raise the devil in me,” he said angrily. + “As I told you before, Betty, when I'm not Lightfoot I'm Montjoy—it + may be this that makes you plague me so.” + </p> + <p> + “O Dan, Dan!” she laughed, but in a moment added gravely: “When you're + neither Lightfoot nor Montjoy, you're just yourself, and it's then, after + all, that I like you best. Shall we turn now?” She wheeled her horse about + on the rustling leaves, and they started toward the sunset light shining + far up the road. + </p> + <p> + “When you like me best,” said Dan, passionately. “Betty, when is that?” + His ardent look was on her face, and she, defying her fears, met it with + her beaming eyes. “When you're just yourself, Dan,” she answered and + galloped on. Her lips were smiling, but there was a prayer in her heart, + for it cried, “Dear God, let him love me, let him love me.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. — BETTY'S UNBELIEF + </h2> + <p> + “Dear God, let him love me,” she prayed again in the cool twilight of her + chamber. Before the open window she put her hands to her burning cheeks + and felt the wind trickle between her quivering fingers. Her heart + fluttered like a bird and her blood went in little tremours through her + veins. For a single instant she seemed to feel the passage of the earth + through space. “Oh, let him love me! let him love me!” she cried upon her + knees. + </p> + <p> + When Virginia came in she rose and turned to her with the brightness of + tears on her lashes. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to help you, dear?” she asked, gently. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm all dressed,” answered Virginia, coming toward her. She held a + lamp in her hand, and the light fell over her girlish figure in its muslin + gown. “You are so late, Betty,” she added, stopping before the bureau. + “Were you by yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Not all the way,” replied Betty, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Who was with you? Champe?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not Champe—Dan,” said Betty, stooping to unfasten her boots. + </p> + <p> + Virginia was pinning a red verbena in her hair, and she turned to catch a + side view of her face. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know I really believe Dan likes you best,” she carelessly + remarked. “I asked him the other afternoon what colour hair he preferred, + and he snapped out, 'red' as suddenly as that. Wasn't it funny?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Betty did not speak; then she came over and stood beside her + sister. + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind if he liked me better than you, dear?” she asked, + doubtfully. “Would you mind the least little bit?” + </p> + <p> + Virginia laughed merrily and stooped to kiss her. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't mind if every man in the world liked you better,” she + answered gayly. “If they only had as much sense as I've got, they would, + foolish things.” + </p> + <p> + “I never knew but one who did,” returned Betty, “and that was the Major.” + </p> + <p> + “But Champe, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps,—but Champe's afraid of you. He calls you Penelope, + you know, because of the 'wooers.' We counted six horses at the portico + yesterday, and he made a bet with me that all of them belonged to the + 'wooers'—and they really did, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but wooing isn't winning,” laughed Virginia, going toward the door. + “You'd better hurry, Betty, supper's ready. I wouldn't touch my hair, if I + were you, it looks just lovely.” Her white skirts fluttered across the + dimly lighted hall, and in a moment Betty heard her soft step on the + stair. + </p> + <p> + Two days later Betty told Dan good-by with smiling lips. He rode over in + the early morning, when she was in the garden gathering loose rose leaves + to scatter among her clothes. There had been a sharp frost the night + before, and now as it melted in the slanting sun rays, Miss Lydia's summer + flowers hung blighted upon their stalks. Only the gay October roses were + still in their full splendour. + </p> + <p> + “What an early Betty,” said Dan, coming up to her as she stood in the wet + grass beside one of the quaint rose squares. “You are all dewy like a + flower.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I had breakfast an hour ago,” she answered, giving him her moist hand + to which a few petals were clinging. + </p> + <p> + “Ye Gods! have I missed an hour? Why, I expected to sit waiting on the + door-step until you had had your sleep out.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you know if you gather rose leaves with the dew on them, their + sweetness lasts twice as long?” asked Betty. + </p> + <p> + “So you got up to gather ye rosebuds, after all, and not to wish me God + speed?” he said despondently. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should have been up anyway,” replied Betty, frankly. “This is the + loveliest part of the day, you know. The world looks so fresh with the + first frost over it—only the poor silly summer flowers take cold and + die.” + </p> + <p> + “If you weren't a rose, you'd take cold yourself,” remarked Dan, pointing, + with his riding-whip, to the hem of her dimity skirt. “Don't stand in the + grass like that, you make me shiver.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the sun will dry me,” she laughed, stepping from the path to the bare + earth of the rose bed. “Why, when you get well into the sunshine it feels + like summer.” She talked on merrily, and he, paying small heed to what she + said, kept his ardent look upon her face. His joy was in her bright + presence, in the beauty of her smile, in the kind eyes that shone upon + him. Speech meant so little when he could put out his arm and touch her if + he dared. + </p> + <p> + “I am going away in an hour, Betty,” he said, at last. + </p> + <p> + “But you will be back again at Christmas.” + </p> + <p> + “At Christmas! Heavens alive! You speak as if it were to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but time goes very quickly, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Dan shook his head impatiently. “I dare say it does with you,” he + returned, irritably, “but it wouldn't if you were as much in love as I + am.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you ought to be used to it by now,” urged Betty, mercilessly. “You + were in love last year, I remember.” + </p> + <p> + “Betty, don't punish me for what I couldn't help. You know I love you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Betty, nervously plucking rose leaves. “You have been too + often in love before, my good Dan.” + </p> + <p> + “But I was never in love with you before,” retorted Dan, decisively. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, smiling. “And you are not in love with me now,” she + replied, gravely. “You have found out that my hair is pretty, or that I + can mix a pudding; but I do not often let down my hair, and I seldom cook, + so you'll get over it, my friend, never fear.” + </p> + <p> + He flushed angrily. “And if I do not get over it?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “If you do not get over it?” repeated Betty, trembling. She turned away + from him, strewing a handful of rose leaves upon the grass. “Then I shall + think that you value neither my hair nor my housekeeping,” she added, + lightly. + </p> + <p> + “If I swear that I love you, will you believe me, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't tempt my faith, Dan, it's too small.” + </p> + <p> + “Whether you believe it or not, I do love you,” he went on. “I may have + been a fool now and then before I found it out, but you don't think that + was falling in love, do you? I confess that I liked a pair of fine eyes or + rosy cheeks, but I could laugh about it even while I thought it was love I + felt. I can't laugh about being in love with you, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, sir,” replied Betty, saucily. + </p> + <p> + “When I saw you kneeling by the fire in free Levi's cabin, I knew that I + loved you,” he said, hotly. + </p> + <p> + “But I can't always kneel to you, Dan,” she interposed. + </p> + <p> + He put her words impatiently aside, “and what's more I knew then that I + had loved you all my life without knowing it,” he pursued. “You may taunt + me with fickleness, but I'm not fickle—I was merely a fool. It took + me a long time to find out what I wanted, but I've found out at last, and, + so help me God, I'll have it yet. I never went without a thing I wanted in + my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it will be good for you,” responded Betty. “Shall I put some rose + leaves into your pocket?” She spoke indifferently, but all the while she + heard her heart singing for joy. + </p> + <p> + In the rage of his boyish passion, he cut brutally at the flowers growing + at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “If you keep this up, you'll send me to the devil!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She caught his hand and took the whip from his fingers. “Ah, don't hurt + the poor flowers,” she begged, “they aren't to blame.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is to blame, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + She looked up wistfully into his angry face. “You are no better than a + child, Dan,” she said, almost sadly, “and you haven't the least idea what + you are storming so about. It's time you were a man, but you aren't, + you're just—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know, I'm just a pampered poodle dog,” he finished, bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you ought to be something better, and you must be.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be anything you please, Betty; I'll be President, if you wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you, I don't care in the least for Presidents.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll be a beggar, you like beggars.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll be just yourself, if you want to please me, Dan,” she said + earnestly. “You will be your best self—neither the flattering + Lightfoot, nor the rude Montjoy. You will learn to work, to wait + patiently, and to love one woman. Whoever she may be, I shall say, God + bless her.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless her, Betty,” he echoed fervently, and added, “Since it's a man + you want, I'll be a man, but I almost wish you had said a President. I + could have been one for you, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + Then he held out his hand. “I don't suppose you will kiss me good-by?” he + pleaded. + </p> + <p> + “No, I shan't kiss you good-by,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Never, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + Smiling brightly, she gave him her hand. “When you have loved me two + years, perhaps,—or when you marry another woman. Good-by, dear, + good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He turned quickly away and went up the little path to the gate. There he + paused for an instant, looked back, and waved his hand. “Good-by, my + darling!” he called, boldly, and passed under the honeysuckle arbour. As + he mounted his horse in the drive he saw her still standing as he had left + her, the roses falling about her, and the sunshine full upon her bended + head. + </p> + <p> + Until he was hidden by the trees she watched him breathlessly, then, + kneeling in the path, she laid her cheek upon the long grass he had + trodden underfoot. “O my love, my love,” she whispered to the ground. + </p> + <p> + Miss Lydia called her from the house, and she went to her with some loose + roses in her muslin apron. “Did you call me, Aunt Lydia?” she asked, + lifting her radiant eyes to the old lady's face. “I haven't gathered very + many leaves.” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted you to pot some white violets for me, dear,” answered Miss + Lydia, from the back steps. “My winter garden is almost full, but there's + a spot where I can put a few violets. Poor Mr. Bill asked for a geranium + for his window, so I let him take one.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let me pot them for you,” begged Betty, eager to be of service. “Send + Petunia for the trowel, and I'll choose you a lovely plant. It's too bad + to see all the dear verbenas bitten by the frost.” She tossed a rose into + Miss Lydia's hands, and went back gladly into the garden. + </p> + <p> + A fortnight after this the Major came over and besought her to return with + him for a week at Chericoke. Mrs. Lightfoot had taken to her bed, he said + sadly, and the whole place was rapidly falling to rack and ruin. “We need + your hands to put it straight again,” he added, “and Molly told me on no + account to come back without you. I am at your mercy, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I should love to go,” replied Betty, with the thought of Dan at her + heart. “I'll be ready in a minute,” and she ran upstairs to find her + mother, and to pack her things. + </p> + <p> + The Major waited for her standing; and when she came down, followed by + Petunia with her clothes, he helped her, with elaborate courtesy, into the + old coach before the portico. + </p> + <p> + “It takes me back to my wedding day, Betty,” he said, as he stepped in + after her and slammed the door. “It isn't often that I carry off a pretty + girl so easily.” + </p> + <p> + “Now I know that you didn't carry off Mrs. Lightfoot easily,” returned + Betty, laughing from sheer lightness of spirits. “She has told me the + whole story, sir, from the evening that she wore the peach-blow brocade, + that made you fall in love with her on the spot, to the day that she + almost broke down at the altar. You had a narrow escape from bachelorship, + sir, so you needn't boast.” + </p> + <p> + The Major chuckled in his corner. “I don't doubt that Molly told you so,” + he replied, “but, between you and me, I don't believe it ever occurred to + her until forty years afterwards. She got it out of one of those silly + romances she reads in bed—and, take my word for it, you'll find it + somewhere in the pages of her Mrs. Radcliffe, or her Miss Burney. Molly's + a sensible woman, my child,—I'm the last man to deny it—but + she always did read trash. You won't believe me, I dare say, but she + actually tried to faint when I kissed her in the carriage after her + wedding—and, bless my soul, I came to find that she had 'Evelina' + tucked away under her cape.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, she is the most sensible woman in the world,” said Betty, “and I'm + quite sure that she was only fitting herself to your ideas, sir. No, you + can't make me believe it of Mrs. Lightfoot.” + </p> + <p> + “My ideas never took the shape of an Evelina,” dissented the Major, + warmly, “but it's a dangerous taste, my dear, the taste for trash. I've + always said that it ruined poor Jane, with all her pride. She got into her + head all kind of notions about that scamp Montjoy, with his pale face and + his long black hair. Poor girl, poor girl! I tried to bring her up on + Homer and Milton, but she took to her mother's bookshelf as a duck to + water.” He wiped his eyes, and Betty patted his hand, and wondered if “the + scamp Montjoy” looked the least bit like his son. + </p> + <p> + When they reached Chericoke she shook hands with the servants and ran + upstairs to Mrs. Lightfoot's chamber. The old lady, in her ruffled + nightcap, which she always put on when she took to bed, was sitting + upright under her dimity curtains, weeping over “Thaddeus of Warsaw.” + There was a little bookstand at her bedside filled with her favourite + romances, and at the beginning of the year she would start systematically + to read from the first volume upon the top shelf to the last one in the + corner near the door. “None of your newfangled writers for me, my dear,” + she would protest, snapping her fingers at literature. “Why, they haven't + enough sentiment to give their hero a title—and an untitled hero! I + declare, I'd as lief have a plain heroine, and, before you know it, + they'll be writing about their Sukey Sues, with pug noses, who eloped with + their Bill Bates, from the nearest butcher shop. Ugh! don't talk to me + about them! I opened one of Mr. Dickens's stories the other day and it was + actually about a chimney sweep—a common chimney sweep from a + workhouse! Why, I really felt as if I had been keeping low society.” + </p> + <p> + Now, as she caught sight of Betty, she laid aside her book, wiped her eyes + on a stiffly folded handkerchief, and became cheerful at once. “I warned + Mr. Lightfoot not to dare to show his face without you,” she began; “so I + suppose he brought you off by force.” + </p> + <p> + “I was only too glad to come,” replied Betty, kissing her; “but what must + I do for you first? Shall I rub your head with bay rum?” + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing on earth the matter with my head, child,” retorted Mrs. + Lightfoot, promptly, “but you may go downstairs, as soon as you take off + your things, and make me some decent tea and toast. Cupid brought me up + two waiters at dinner, and I wouldn't touch either of them with a ten-foot + pole.” + </p> + <p> + Betty took off her bonnet and shawl and hung them on a chair. “I'll go + down at once and see about it,” she answered, “and I'll make Car'line put + away my things. It's my old room I'm to have, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “It's the whole house, if you want it, only don't let any of the darkies + have a hand at my tea. It's their nature to slop.” + </p> + <p> + “But it isn't mine,” Betty answered her, and ran, laughing, down into the + dining room. + </p> + <p> + “Dar ain' been no sich chunes sense young Miss rid away in de dead er de + night time,” muttered Cupid, in the pantry. “Lawd, Lawd, I des wish you'd + teck up wid Marse Champe, en move 'long over hyer fer good en all. I + reckon dar 'ud be times, den, I reckon, dar 'ould.” + </p> + <p> + “There are going to be times now, Uncle Cupid,” responded Betty, + cheerfully, as she arranged the tray for Mrs. Lightfoot. “I'm going to + make some tea and toast right on this fire for your old Miss. You bring + the kettle, and I'll slice the bread.” + </p> + <p> + Cupid brought the kettle, grumbling. “I ain' never hyern tell er sich a + mouf es ole Miss es got,” he muttered. “I ain' sayin' nuttin' agin er + stomick, case she ain' never let de stuff git down dat fur—en de + stomick hit ain' never tase it yit.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, stop grumbling, Uncle Cupid,” returned Betty, moving briskly about + the room. She brought the daintiest tea cup from the old sideboard, and + leaned out of the window to pluck a late microphylla rosebud from the + creeper upon the porch. Then, with the bread on the end of a long fork, + she sat before the fire and asked Cupid about the health and fortunes of + the house servants and the field hands. + </p> + <p> + “I ain' mix wid no fiel' han's,” grunted Cupid, with a social pride + befitting the Major. “Dar ain' no use er my mixin' en I ain' mix. Dey stay + in dere place en I stay in my place—en dere place hit's de quarters, + en my place hit's de dinin' 'oom.” + </p> + <p> + “But Aunt Rhody—how's she?” inquired Betty, pleasantly, “and Big + Abel? He didn't go back to college, did he?” + </p> + <p> + “Zeke, he went,” replied Cupid, “en Big Abel he wuz bleeged ter stay + behint 'case his wife Saphiry she des put 'er foot right down. Ef'n he 'uz + gwine off again, sez she, she 'uz des gwine tu'n right in en git mah'ed + agin. She ain' so sho', nohow, dat two husban's ain' better'n one, is + Saphiry, en she got 'mos' a min' ter try hit. So Big Abel he des stayed + behint.” + </p> + <p> + “That was wise of Big Abel,” remarked Betty. “Now open the door, Uncle + Cupid, and I'll carry this upstairs,” and as Cupid threw open the door, + she went out, holding the tray before her. + </p> + <p> + The old lady received her graciously, ate the toast and drank the tea, and + even admitted that it couldn't have been better if she had made it with + her own hands. “I think that you will have to come and live with me, + Betty,” she said good-humouredly. “What a pity you can't fancy one of + those useless boys of mine. Not that I'd have you marry Dan, child, the + Major has spoiled him to death, and now he's beginning to repent it; but + Champe, Champe is a good and clever lad and would make a mild and amiable + husband, I am sure. Don't marry a man with too much spirit, my dear; if a + man has any extra spirit, he usually expends it in breaking his wife's.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shan't marry yet awhile,” replied Betty, looking out upon the + falling autumn leaves. + </p> + <p> + “So I said the day before I married Mr. Lightfoot,” rejoined the old lady, + settling her pillows, “and now, if you have nothing better to do, you + might read me a chapter of 'Thaddeus of Warsaw'; you will find it to be a + book of very pretty sentiment.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. — THE MONTJOY BLOOD + </h2> + <p> + In the morning Betty was awakened by the tapping of the elm boughs on the + roof above her. An autumn wind was blowing straight from the west, and + when she looked out through the small greenish panes of glass, she saw + eddies of yellowed leaves beating gently against the old brick walls. + Overhead light gray clouds were flying across the sky, and beyond the + waving tree-tops a white mist hung above the dim blue chain of mountains. + </p> + <p> + When she went downstairs she found the Major, in his best black + broadcloth, pacing up and down before the house. It was Sunday, and he + intended to drive into town where the rector held his services. + </p> + <p> + “You won't go in with me, I reckon?” he ventured hopefully, when Betty + smiled out upon him from the library window. “Ah, my dear, you're as fresh + as the morning, and only an old man to look at you. Well, well, age has + its consolations; you'll spare me a kiss, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must come in to get it,” answered Betty, her eyes narrowing. + “Breakfast is getting cold, and Cupid is calling down Aunt Rhody's wrath + upon your head.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll come, I'll come,” returned the Major, hurrying up the steps, and + adding as he entered the dining room, “My child, if you'd only take a + fancy to Champe, I'd be the happiest man on earth.” + </p> + <p> + “Now I shan't allow any matchmaking on Sunday,” said Betty, warningly, as + she prepared Mrs. Lightfoot's breakfast. “Sit down and carve the chicken + while I run upstairs with this.” + </p> + <p> + She went out and came back in a moment, laughing merrily. “Do you know, + she threatens to become bedridden now that I am here to fix her trays,” + she explained, sitting down between the tall silver urns and pouring out + the Major's coffee. “What an uncertain day you have for church,” she added + as she gave his cup to Cupid. + </p> + <p> + With his eyes on her vivid face the old man listened rapturously to her + fresh young voice—the voice, he said, that always made him think of + clear water falling over stones. It was one of the things that came to her + from Peyton Ambler, he knew, with her warm hazel eyes and the sweet, + strong curve of her mouth. “Ah, but you're like your father,” he said as + he watched her. “If you had brown hair you'd be his very image.” + </p> + <p> + “I used to wish that I had,” responded Betty, “but I don't now—I'd + just as soon have red.” She was thinking that Dan did not like brown hair + so much, and the thought shone in her face—only the Major, in his + ignorance, mistook its meaning. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast he got into the coach and started off, and Betty, with the + key basket on her arm, followed Cupid and Aunt Rhody into the storeroom. + Then she gathered fresh flowers for the table, and went upstairs to read a + chapter from the Bible to Mrs. Lightfoot. + </p> + <p> + The Major stayed to dinner in town, returning late in a moody humour and + exhausted by his drive. As Betty brushed her hair before her bureau, she + heard him talking in a loud voice to Mrs. Lightfoot, and when she went in + at supper time the old, lady called her to her bedside and took her hand. + </p> + <p> + “He has had a touch of the gout, Betty,” she whispered in her ear, “and he + heard some news in town which upset him a little. You must try to cheer + him up at supper, child.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it bad news?” asked Betty, in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “It may not be true, my dear. I hope it isn't, but, as I told Mr. + Lightfoot, it is always better to believe the worst, so if any surprise + comes it may be a pleasant one. Somebody told him in church—and they + had much better have been attending to the service, I'm sure,—that + Dan had gotten into trouble again, and Mr. Lightfoot is very angry about + it. He had a talk with the boy before he went away, and made him promise + to turn over a new leaf this year—but it seems this is the most + serious thing that has happened yet. I must say I always told Mr. + Lightfoot it was what he had to expect.” + </p> + <p> + “In trouble again?” repeated Betty, kneeling by the bed. Her hands went + cold, and she pressed them nervously together. + </p> + <p> + “Of course we know very little about it, my dear,” pursued Mrs. Lightfoot. + “All we have heard is that he fought a duel and was sent away from the + University. He was even put into gaol for a night, I believe—a + Lightfoot in a common dirty gaol! Well, well, as I said before, all we can + do now is to expect the worst.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is that all?” cried Betty, and the leaping of her heart told her the + horror of her dim foreboding. She rose to her feet and smiled brightly + down upon the astonished old lady. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what more you want,” replied Mrs. Lightfoot, tartly. “If he + ever gets clean again after a whole night in a common gaol, I must say I + don't see how he'll manage it. But if you aren't satisfied I can only tell + you that the affair was all about some bar-room wench, and that the papers + will be full of it. Not that the boy was anything but foolish,” she added + hastily. “I'll do him the justice to admit that he's more of a fool than a + villain—and I hardly know whether it's a compliment that I'm paying + him or not. He got some quixotic notion into his head that Harry Maupin + insulted the girl in his presence, and he called him to account for it. As + if the honour of a barkeeper's daughter was the concern of any gentleman!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Betty, and caught her breath. The word went out of her in a + sudden burst of joy, but the joy was so sharp that a moment afterwards she + hid her wet face in the bedclothes and sobbed softly to herself. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think Mr. Lightfoot would have taken it so hard but for + Virginia,” said the old lady, with her keen eyes on the girl. “You know he + has always wanted to bring Dan and Virginia together, and he seems to + think that the boy has been dishonourable about it.” + </p> + <p> + “But Virginia doesn't care—she doesn't care,” protested Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm glad to hear it,” returned Mrs. Lightfoot, relieved, “and I + hope the foolish boy will stay away long enough for his grandfather to + cool off. Mr. Lightfoot is a high-tempered man, my child. I've spent fifty + years in keeping him at peace with the world. There now, run down and + cheer him up.” + </p> + <p> + She lay back among her pillows, and Betty leaned over and kissed her with + cold lips before she dried her eyes and went downstairs to find the Major. + </p> + <p> + With the first glance at his face she saw that Dan's cause was hopeless + for the hour, and she set herself, with a cheerful countenance, to a + discussion of the trivial happenings of the day. She talked pleasantly of + the rector's sermon, of the morning reading with Mrs. Lightfoot, and of a + great hawk that had appeared suddenly in the air and raised an outcry + among the turkeys on the lawn. When these topics were worn threadbare she + bethought herself of the beauty of the autumn woods, and lamented the + ruined garden with its last sad flowers. + </p> + <p> + The Major listened gloomily, putting in a word now and then, and keeping + his weak red eyes upon his plate. There was a heavy cloud on his brow, and + the flush that Betty had learned to dread was in his face. Once when she + spoke carelessly of Dan, he threw out an angry gesture and inquired if she + “found Mrs. Lightfoot easier to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I think so,” replied the girl, and then, as they rose from the table, + she slipped her hand through his arm and went with him into the library. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I sit with you this evening?” she asked timidly. “I'd be so glad to + read to you, if you would let me.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head, patted her affectionately upon the shoulder, and smiled + down into her upraised face. “No, no, my dear, I've a little work to do,” + he replied kindly. “There are a few papers I want to look over, so run up + to Molly and tell her I sent my sunshine to her.” + </p> + <p> + He stooped and kissed her cheek; and Betty, with a troubled heart, went + slowly up to Mrs. Lightfoot's chamber. + </p> + <p> + The Major sat down at his writing table, and spread his papers out before + him. Then he raised the wick of his lamp, and with his pen in his hand, + resolutely set himself to his task. When Cupid came in with the decanter + of Burgundy, he filled a glass and held it absently against the light, but + he did not drink it, and in a moment he put it down with so tremulous a + hand that the wine spilled upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + “I've a touch of the gout, Cupid,” he said testily. “A touch of the gout + that's been hanging over me for a month or more.” + </p> + <p> + “Huccome you ain' fit hit, Ole Marster?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I've been fighting it tooth and nail,” answered the old gentleman, + “but there are some things that always get the better of you in the end, + Cupid, and the gout's one of them.” + </p> + <p> + “En rheumaticks hit's anurr,” added Cupid, rubbing his knee. + </p> + <p> + He rolled a fresh log upon the andirons and went out, while the Major + returned, frowning, to his work. + </p> + <p> + He was still at his writing table, when he heard the sound of a horse + trotting in the drive, and an instant afterwards the quick fall of the old + brass knocker. The flush deepened in his face, and with a look at once + angry and appealing, he half rose from his chair. As he waited the outside + bars were withdrawn, there followed a few short steps across the hall, and + Dan came into the library. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know what's brought me back, grandpa?” he said quietly as + he entered. + </p> + <p> + The Major started up and then sat down again. + </p> + <p> + “I do know, sir, and I wish to God I didn't,” he replied, choking in his + anger. + </p> + <p> + Dan stood where he had halted upon his entrance, and looked at him with + eyes in which there was still a defiant humour. His face was pale and his + hair hung in black streaks across his forehead. The white dust of the + turnpike had settled upon his clothes, and as he moved it floated in a + little cloud about him. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you think it's a pretty bad thing, eh?” he questioned coolly, + though his hands trembled. + </p> + <p> + The Major's eyes flashed ominously from beneath his heavy brows. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty bad?” he repeated, taking a long breath. “If you want to know what + I think about it, sir, I think that it's a damnable disgrace. Pretty bad!—By + God, sir, do you call having a gaol-bird for a grandson pretty bad?” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, sir!” called Dan, sharply. He had steadied himself to withstand the + shock of the Major's temper, but, in the dash of his youthful folly, he + had forgotten to reckon with his own. “For heaven's sake, let's talk about + it calmly,” he added irritably. + </p> + <p> + “I am perfectly calm, sir!” thundered the Major, rising to his feet. The + terrible flush went in a wave to his forehead, and he put up one quivering + hand to loosen his high stock. “I tell you calmly that you've done a + damnable thing; that you've brought disgrace upon the name of Lightfoot.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not my name,” replied Dan, lifting his head. “My name is Montjoy, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And it's a name to hang a dog for,” retorted the Major. + </p> + <p> + As they faced each other with the same flash of temper kindling in both + faces, the likeness between them grew suddenly more striking. It was as if + the spirit of the fiery old man had risen, in a finer and younger shape, + from the air before him. + </p> + <p> + “At all events it is not yours,” said Dan, hotly. Then he came nearer, and + the anger died out of his eyes. “Don't let's quarrel, grandpa,” he + pleaded. “I've gotten into a mess, and I'm sorry for it—on my word I + am.” + </p> + <p> + “So you've come whining to me to get you out,” returned the Major, shaking + as if he had gone suddenly palsied. + </p> + <p> + Dan drew back and his hand fell to his side. + </p> + <p> + “So help me God, I'll never whine to you again,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to know what you have done, sir?” demanded the Major. “You + have broken your grandmother's heart and mine—and made us wish that + we had left you by the roadside when you came crawling to our door. And, + on my oath, if I had known that the day would ever come when you would try + to murder a Virginia gentleman for the sake of a bar-room hussy, I would + have left you there, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” said Dan again, looking at the old man with his mother's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You have broken your grandmother's heart and mine,” repeated the Major, + in a trembling voice, “and I pray to God that you may not break Virginia + Ambler's—poor girl, poor girl!” + </p> + <p> + “Virginia Ambler!” said Dan, slowly. “Why, there was nothing between us, + nothing, nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “And you dare to tell me this to my face, sir?” cried the Major. + </p> + <p> + “Dare! of course I dare,” returned Dan, defiantly. “If there was ever + anything at all it was upon my side only—and a mere trifling fancy.” + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman brought his hand down upon his table with a blow that + sent the papers fluttering to the floor. “Trifling!” he roared. “Would you + trifle with a lady from your own state, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I was never in love with her,” exclaimed Dan, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Not in love with her? What business have you not to be in love with her?” + retorted the Major, tossing back his long white hair. “I have given her to + understand that you are in love with her, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The blood rushed to Dan's head, and he stumbled over an ottoman as he + turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Then I call it unwarrantable interference,” he said brutally, and went + toward the door. There the Major's flashing eyes held him back an instant. + </p> + <p> + “It was when I believed you to be worthy of her,” went on the old man, + relentlessly, “when—fool that I was—I dared to hope that dirty + blood could be made clean again; that Jack Montjoy's son could be a + gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment only Dan stood motionless and looked at him from the + threshold. Then, without speaking, he crossed the hall, took down his hat, + and unbarred the outer door. It slammed after him, and he went out into + the night. + </p> + <p> + A keen wind was still blowing, and as he descended the steps he felt it + lifting the dampened hair from his forehead. With a breath of relief he + stood bareheaded in the drive and raised his face to the cool elm leaves + that drifted slowly down. After the heated atmosphere of the library there + was something pleasant in the mere absence of light, and in the soft + rustling of the branches overhead. The humour of his blood went suddenly + quiet as if he had plunged headlong into cold water. + </p> + <p> + While he stood there motionless his thoughts were suspended, and his + senses, gaining a brief mastery, became almost feverishly alert; he felt + the night wind in his face, he heard the ceaseless stirring of the leaves, + and he saw the sparkle of the gravel in the yellow shine that streamed + from the library windows. But with his first step, his first movement, + there came a swift recoil of his anger, and he told himself with a touch + of youthful rhetoric, “that come what would, he was going to the devil—and + going speedily.” + </p> + <p> + He had reached the gate and his hand was upon the latch, when he heard the + house door open and shut behind him and his name called softly from the + steps. + </p> + <p> + He turned impulsively and stood waiting, while Betty came quickly through + the lamplight that fell in squares upon the drive. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come back, Dan, come back,” she said breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + With his hand still on the gate he faced her, frowning. + </p> + <p> + “I'd die first, Betty,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + She came swiftly up to him and stood, very pale, in the faint starlight + that shone between the broken clouds. A knitted shawl was over her + shoulders, but her head was bare and her hair made a glow around her face. + Her eyes entreated him before she spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dan, come back,” she pleaded. + </p> + <p> + He laughed angrily and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'll die first, Betty,” he repeated. “Die! I'd die a hundred times + first!” + </p> + <p> + “He is so old,” she said appealingly. “It is not as if he were young and + quite himself, Dan—Oh, it is not like that—but he loves you, + and he is so old.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't, Betty,” he broke in quickly, and added bitterly, “Are you, too, + against me?” + </p> + <p> + “I am for the best in you,” she answered quietly, and turned away from + him. + </p> + <p> + “The best!” he snapped his fingers impatiently. “Are you for the shot at + Maupin? the night I spent in gaol? or the beggar I am now? There's an + equal choice, I reckon.” + </p> + <p> + She looked gravely up at him. + </p> + <p> + “I am for the boy I've always known,” she replied, “and for the man who + was here two weeks ago—and—yes, I am for the man who stands + here now. What does it matter, Dan? What does it matter?” + </p> + <p> + “O, Betty!” he cried breathlessly, and hid his face in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “And most of all, I am for the man you are going to be,” she went on + slowly, “for the great man who is growing up. Dan, come back!” + </p> + <p> + His hands fell from his eyes. “I'll not do that even for you, Betty,” he + answered, “and, God knows, there's little else I wouldn't do for you—there's + nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + “What will you do for yourself, Dan?” + </p> + <p> + “For myself?” his anger leaped out again, and he steadied himself against + the gate. “For myself I'll go as far as I can from this damned place. I + wish to God I'd fallen in the road before I came here. I wish I'd gone + after my father and followed in his steps. I'll live on no man's charity, + so help me God. Am I a dog to be kicked out and to go whining back when + the door opens? Go—I'll go to the devil, and be glad of it!” For a + moment Betty did not answer. Her hands were clasped on her bosom, and her + eyes were dark and bright in the pallor of her face. As he looked at her + the rage died out of his voice, and it quivered with a deeper feeling. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, my dearest, are you, too, against me?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She met his gaze without flinching, but the bright colour swept suddenly + to her cheeks and dyed them crimson. + </p> + <p> + “Then if you will go, take me with you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He fell back as if a star had dropped at his feet. For a breathless + instant she saw only his eyes, and they drew her step by step. Then he + opened his arms and she went straight into them. + </p> + <p> + “Betty, Betty,” he said in a whisper, and kissed her lips. + </p> + <p> + She put her hands upon his shoulders, and stood with his arms about her, + looking up into his face. + </p> + <p> + “Take me with you—oh, take me with you,” she entreated. “I can't be + left. Take me with you.” + </p> + <p> + “And you love me—Betty, do you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “I have loved you all my life—all my life,” she answered; “how can I + begin to unlove you now—now when it is too late? Do you think I am + any the less yours if you throw me away? If you break my heart can I help + its still loving you?” + </p> + <p> + “Betty, Betty,” he said again, and his voice quivered. + </p> + <p> + “Take me with you,” she repeated passionately, saying it over and over + again with her lips upon his arm. + </p> + <p> + He stooped and kissed her almost roughly, and then put her gently away + from him. + </p> + <p> + “It is the way my mother went,” he said, “and God help me, I am my + father's son. I am afraid,—afraid—do you know what that + means?” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not afraid,” answered the girl steadily. + </p> + <p> + He shivered and turned away; then he came back and knelt down to kiss her + skirt. “No, I can't take you with me,” he went on rapidly, “but if I live + to be a man I shall come back—I <i>will</i> come back—and you—” + </p> + <p> + “And I am waiting,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + He opened the gate and passed out into the road. + </p> + <p> + “I will come back, beloved,” he said again, and went on into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Leaning over the gate she strained her eyes into the shadows, crying his + name out into the night. Her voice broke and she hid her face in her arm; + then, fearing to lose the last glimpse of him, she looked up quickly and + sobbed to him to come back for a moment—but for a moment. It seemed + to her, clinging there upon the gate, that when he went out into the + darkness he had gone forever—that the thud of his footsteps in the + dust was the last sound that would ever come from him to her ears. + </p> + <p> + Had he looked back she would have gone straight out to him, had he raised + a finger she would have followed with a cheerful face; but he did not look + back, and at last his footsteps died away upon the road. + </p> + <p> + When she could see or hear nothing more of him, she turned slowly and + crept toward the house. Her feet dragged under her, and as she walked she + cast back startled glances at the gate. The rustling of the leaves made + her stand breathless a moment, her hand at her bosom; but it was only the + wind, and she went step by step into the house, turning upon the threshold + to throw a look behind her. + </p> + <p> + In the hall she paused and laid her hand upon the library door, but the + Major had bolted her out, and she heard him pacing with restless strides + up and down the room. She listened timidly awhile, then, going softly by, + went up to Mrs. Lightfoot. + </p> + <p> + The old lady was asleep, but as the girl entered she awoke and sat up, + very straight, in bed. “My pain is much worse, Betty,” she complained. “I + don't expect to get a wink of sleep this entire night.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were asleep when I came in,” answered Betty, keeping away + from the candlelight; “but I am so sorry you are in pain. Shall I make you + a mustard plaster?” + </p> + <p> + Though she smiled, her voice was spiritless and she moved with an effort. + She felt suddenly very tired, and she wanted to lie down somewhere alone + in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “I'd just dropped off when Mr. Lightfoot woke me slamming the doors,” + pursued the old lady, querulously. “Men have so little consideration that + nothing surprises me, but I do think he might be more careful when he + knows I am suffering. No, I won't take the mustard plaster, but you may + bring me a cup of hot milk, if you will. It sometimes sends me off into a + doze.” + </p> + <p> + Betty went slowly downstairs again and heated the milk on the dining-room + fire. When it was ready she daintily arranged it upon a tray and carried + it upstairs. “I hope it will do you good,” she said gently as she gave it + to the old lady. “You must try to lie quiet—the doctor told you so.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot drank the milk and remarked amiably that it was “very nice + though a little smoked—and now, go to bed, my dear,” she added + kindly. “I mustn't keep you from your beauty sleep. I'm afraid I've worn + you out as it is.” + </p> + <p> + Betty smiled and shook her head; then she placed the tray upon a chair, + and went out, softly closing the door after her. + </p> + <p> + In her own room she threw herself upon her bed, and cried for Dan until + the morning. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. — THE ROAD AT MIDNIGHT + </h2> + <p> + When Dan went down into the shadows of the road, he stopped short before + he reached the end of the stone wall, and turned for his last look at + Chericoke. He saw the long old house, with its peaked roof over which the + elm boughs arched, the white stretch of drive before the door, and the + leaves drifting ceaselessly against the yellow squares of the library + windows. As he looked Betty came slowly from the shadow by the gate, where + she had lingered, and crossed the lighted spaces amid the falling leaves. + On the threshold, as she turned to throw a glance into the night, it + seemed to him, for a single instant, that her eyes plunged through the + darkness into his own. Then, while his heart still bounded with the hope, + the door opened, and shut after her, and she was gone. + </p> + <p> + For a moment he saw only blackness—so sharp was the quick shutting + off of the indoor light. The vague shapes upon the lawn showed like mere + drawings in outline, the road became a pallid blur in the formless + distance, and the shine of the lamplight on the drive shifted and grew dim + as if a curtain had dropped across the windows. Like a white thread on the + blackness he saw the glimmer beneath his grandmother's shutters, and it + was as if he had looked in from the high top of an elm and seen her lying + with her candle on her breast. + </p> + <p> + As he stood there the silence of the old house knocked upon his heart like + sound—and quick fears sprang up within him of a sudden death, or of + Betty weeping for him somewhere alone in the stillness. The long roof + under the waving elm boughs lost, for a heartbeat, the likeness of his + home, and became, as the clouds thickened in the sky, but a great mound of + earth over which the wind blew and the dead leaves fell. + </p> + <p> + But at last when he turned away and followed the branch road, his racial + temperament had triumphed over the forebodings of the moment; and with the + flicker of a smile upon his lips, he started briskly toward the turnpike. + As the mind in the first ecstasy of a high passion is purified from the + stain of mere emotion, so the Major, and the Major's anger, were + forgotten, and his own bitter resentment swept as suddenly from his + thoughts. He was overpowered and uplifted by the one supreme feeling from + which he still trembled. All else seemed childish and of small + significance beside the memory of Betty's lips upon his own. What room had + he for anger when he was filled to overflowing with the presence of love? + </p> + <p> + The branch road ran out abruptly into the turnpike, and once off the + familiar way by his grandfather's stone wall, he felt the blackness of the + night close round him like a vault. Without a lantern there was small hope + of striking the tavern or the tavern road till morning. To go on meant a + night upon the roadside or in the fields. + </p> + <p> + As he stretched out his arm, groping in the blackness, he struck suddenly + upon the body of the blasted tree, and coming round it, his eyes caught + the red light of free Levi's fire, and he heard the sound of a hammer + falling upon heated iron. The little path was somewhere in the darkness, + and as he vainly sought for it, he stumbled over a row of stripped and + headless cornstalks which ran up to the cabin door. Once upon the smooth + stone before the threshold, he gave a boyish whistle and lifted his hand + to knock. “It is I, Uncle Levi—there are no 'hants' about,” he + cried. + </p> + <p> + The hammer was thrown aside, and fell upon the stones, and a moment + afterward, the door flew back quickly, showing the blanched face of free + Levi and the bright glow of the hearth. “Dis yer ain' no time fur pranks,” + said the old man, angrily. “Ain't yer ever gwine ter grow up, yit?” and he + added, slowly, “Praise de Lawd hit's you instid er de devil.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's I, sure enough,” returned Dan, lightly, as he came into the + cabin. “I'm on my way to Merry Oaks Tavern, Uncle Levi,—it's ten + miles off, you know, and this blessed night is no better than an ink-pot. + I'd positively be ashamed to send such a night down on a respectable + planet. It's that old lantern of yours I want, by the way, and in case it + doesn't turn up again, take this to buy a new one. No, I can't rest + to-night. This is my working time, and I must be up and doing.” He reached + for the rusty old lantern behind the door, and lighted it, laughing as he + did so. His face was pale, and there was a nervous tremor in his hands, + but his voice had lost none of its old heartiness. “Ah, that's it, old + man,” he said, when the light was ready. “We'll shake hands in case it's a + long parting. This is a jolly world. Uncle Levi,—good-by, and God + bless you,” and, leaving the old man speechless on the hearth, he closed + the door and went out into the night. + </p> + <p> + On the turnpike again, with the lantern swinging in his hand, he walked + rapidly in the direction of the tavern road, throwing quick flashes of + light before his footsteps. Behind him he heard the falling of free Levi's + hammer, and knew that the old negro was toiling at his rude forge for the + bread which he would to-morrow eat in freedom. + </p> + <p> + With the word he tossed back his hair and quickened his steps, as if he + were leaving servitude behind him in the house at Chericoke; and, as the + anger blazed up within his heart he found pleasure in the knowledge that + at last he was starting out to level his own road. Under the clouds on the + long turnpike it all seemed so easy—as easy as the falling of free + Levi's hammer, which had faded in the distance. + </p> + <p> + What was it, after all? A year or two of struggle and of attainment, and + he would come back flushed with success, to clasp Betty in his arms. In a + dozen different ways he pictured to himself the possible manner of that + home-coming, obliterating the year or two that lay between. He saw himself + a great lawyer from a little reading and a single speech, or a judge upon + his bench, famed for his classic learning and his grave decisions. He had + only to choose, he felt, and he might be anything—had they not told + him so at college? did not even his grandfather admit it? He had only to + choose—and, oh, he would choose well—he would choose to be a + man, and to come riding back with his honours thick upon him. + </p> + <p> + Looking ahead, he saw himself a few years hence, as he rode leisurely + homeward up the turnpike, while the stray countrymen he met took off their + harvest hats, and stared wonderingly long after he was gone. He saw the + Governor hastening to the road to shake his hand, he saw his grandfather + bowed with the sense of his injustice, tremulous with the flutter of his + pride; and, best of all, he saw Betty—Betty, with the rays of light + beneath her lashes, coming straight across the drive into his arms. + </p> + <p> + And then all else faded slowly from him to give place to Betty, and he saw + her growing, changing, brightening, as he had seen her from her childhood + up. The small white figure in the moonlight, the merry little playmate, + hanging on his footsteps, eager to run his errands, the slender girl, with + the red braids and the proud shy eyes, and the woman who knelt upon the + hearth in Aunt Ailsey's cabin, smiling up at him as she dried her hair—all + gathered round him now illuminated against the darkness of the night. + Betty, Betty,—he whispered her name softly beneath his breath, he + spoke it aloud in the silence of the turnpike, he even cried it out + against the mountains, and waited for the echo—Betty, Betty. There + was not only sweetness in the thought of her, there was strength also. The + hand that had held him back when he would have gone out blindly in his + passion was the hand of a woman, not of a girl—of a woman who could + face life smiling because she felt deep in herself the power to conquer + it. Two days ago she had been but the girl he loved, to-night, with her + kisses on his lips, she had become for him at once a shield and a + religion. He looked outward and saw her influence a light upon his + pathway; he turned his gaze within and found her a part of the sacred + forces of his life—of his wistful childhood, his boyish purity, and + the memory of his mother. + </p> + <p> + He had passed Uplands, and now, as he followed the tavern way, he held the + flash of his lantern near the ground, and went slowly by the crumbling + hollows in the strip of “corduroy” road. There was a thick carpet of moist + leaves underfoot, and above the wind played lightly among the overhanging + branches. His lantern made a shining circle in the midst of a surrounding + blackness, and where the light fell the scattered autumn leaves sent out + gold and scarlet flashes that came and went as quickly as a flame. Once an + owl flew across his path, and startled by the lantern, blindly fluttered + off again. Somewhere in the distance he heard the short bark of a fox; + then it died away, and there was no sound except the ceaseless rustle of + the trees. + </p> + <p> + By the time he came out of the wood upon the open road, his high spirits + had gone suddenly down, and the visions of an hour ago showed stale and + lifeless to his clouded eyes. After a day's ride and a poor dinner, the + ten-mile walk had left him with aching limbs, and a growing conviction + that despite his former aspirations, he was fast going to the devil along + the tavern road. When at last he swung open the whitewashed gate before + the inn, and threw the light of his lantern on the great oaks in the yard, + the relief he felt was hardly brighter than despair, and it made very + little difference, he grimly told himself, whether he put up for the night + or kept the road forever. With a clatter he went into the little wooden + porch and knocked upon the door. + </p> + <p> + He was still knocking when a window was raised suddenly above him, and a + man's voice called out, “if he wanted a place for night-hawks to go on to + hell.” Then, being evidently a garrulous body, the speaker leaned + comfortably upon the sill, and sent down a string of remarks, which Dan + promptly shortened with an oath. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, Jack Hicks,” he cried, angrily, “and come down and open + this door before I break it in. I've walked ten miles to-night and I can't + stand here till morning. How long has it been since you had a guest?” + </p> + <p> + “There was six of 'em changin' stages this mornin',” drawled Jack, in + reply, still hanging from the sill. “I gave 'em a dinner of fried chicken + and battercakes, and two of 'em being Yankees hadn't never tasted it befo'—and + a month ago one dropped in to spend the night—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off hastily, for his wife had joined him at the window, and as + Dan looked up with the flash of the lantern in his face, she gave a cry + and called his name. + </p> + <p> + “Put on your clothes and go down, you fool,” she said, “it's Mr. Dan—don't + you see it's Mr. Dan, and he's as white as yo' nightshirt. Go down, I tell + you,—go down and let him in.” There was a skurrying in the room and + on the staircase, and a moment later the door was flung open and a lamp + flashed in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Walk in, suh, walk right in,” said Jack Hicks, hospitably, “day or night + you're welcome—as welcome as the Major himself.” He drew back and + stood with the lamplight full upon him—a loose, ill-proportioned + figure, with a flabby face and pale blue eyes set under swollen lids. + </p> + <p> + “I want something to eat, Jack,” returned Dan, as he entered and put down + his lantern, “and a place to sleep—in fact I want anything you have + to offer.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as Mrs. Hicks appeared upon the stair, he greeted her, despite his + weariness, with something of his old jesting manner. “I am begging a + supper,” he remarked affably, as he shook her hand, “and I may as well + confess, by the way, that I am positively starving.” + </p> + <p> + The woman beamed upon him, as women always did, and while she led the way + into the little dining room, and set out the cold meat and bread upon the + oil-cloth covering of the table, she asked him eager questions about the + Major and Mrs. Lightfoot, which he aroused himself to parry with a tired + laugh. She was tall and thin, with a wrinkled brown face, and a row of + curl papers about her forehead. Her faded calico wrapper hung loosely over + her nightgown, and he saw her bare feet through the cracks in her worn-out + leather slippers. + </p> + <p> + “The poor young gentleman is all but dead,” she said at last. “You give + him his supper, Jack, and I'll go right up to fix his room. To think of + his walkin' ten miles in the pitch blackness—the poor young + gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + She went out, her run down slippers flapping on the stair, and Dan, as he + ate his ham and bread, listened impatiently to the drawling voice of Jack + Hicks, who discussed the condition of the country while he drew apple + cider from a keg into a white china pitcher. As he talked, his fat face + shone with a drowsy good-humour, and his puffed lids winked sleepily over + his expressionless blue eyes. He moved heavily as if his limbs were + forever coming in the way of his intentions. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, suh, I never was one of them folks as ain't satisfied unless they're + always a-fussin',” he remarked, as he placed the pitcher upon the table. + “Thar's a sight of them kind in these here parts, but I ain't one of 'em. + Lord, Lord, I tell 'em, befo' you git ready to jump out of the fryin' pan, + you'd better make mighty sure you ain't fixin' to land yo'self in the + fire. That's what I always had agin these here abolitionists as used to + come pokin' round here—they ain't never learned to set down an' + cross thar hands, an' leave the Lord to mind his own business. Bless my + soul, I reckon they'd have wanted to have a hand in that little fuss of + Lucifer's if they'd been alive—that's what I tell 'em, suh. An' now + thar's all this talk about the freein' of the niggers—free? What are + they goin' to do with 'em after they're done set 'em free? Ain't they the + sons of Ham? I ask 'em; an' warn't they made to be servants of servants + like the Bible says? It's a bold man that goes plum agin the Bible, and + flies smack into the face of God Almighty—it's a bold man, an' he + ain't me, suh. What I say is, if the Lord can stand it, I reckon the rest + of the country—” + </p> + <p> + He paused to draw breath, and Dan laid down his knife and fork and pushed + back his chair. “Before you begin again, Jack,” he said coolly, “will you + spare enough wind to carry me upstairs?” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I tell 'em,” pursued Jack amiably, as he lighted a candle and + led the way into the hall. “They used to come down here every once in a + while an' try to draw me out; and one of 'em 'most got a coat of tar an' + feathers for meddlin' with my man Lacy; but if the Lord—here we are, + here we are.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped upon the landing and opened the door of a long room, in which + Mrs. Hicks was putting the last touches to the bed. She stopped as Dan + came in, and by the pale flicker of a tallow candle stood looking at him + from the threshold. “If you'll jest knock on the floor when you wake up, + I'll know when to send yo' hot water,” she said, “and if thar's anything + else you want, you can jest knock agin.” + </p> + <p> + With a smile he thanked her and promised to remember; and then as she went + out into the hall, he bolted the door, and threw himself into a chair + beside the window. Sleep had quite deserted him, and the dawn was on the + mountains when at last he lay down and closed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. — AT MERRY OAKS TAVERN + </h2> + <p> + Upon awaking his first thought was that he had got “into a deucedly + uncomfortable fix,” and when he stretched out his hand from the bedside + the need of fresh clothes appeared less easy to be borne than the more + abstract wreck of his career. For the first time he clearly grasped some + outline of his future—a future in which a change of linen would + become a luxury; and it was with smarting eyes and a nervous tightening of + the throat that he glanced about the long room, with its whitewashed + walls, and told himself that he had come early to the end of his ambition. + In the ill-regulated tenor of his thoughts but a hair's breadth divided + assurance from despair. Last night the vaguest hope had seemed to be a + certainty; to-day his fat acres and the sturdy slaves upon them had + vanished like a dream, and the building of his fortunes had become + suddenly a very different matter from the rearing of airy castles along + the road. + </p> + <p> + As he lay there, with his strong white hands folded upon the quilt, his + eyes went beyond the little lattice at the window, and rested upon the + dark gray chain of mountains over which the white clouds sailed like + birds. Somewhere nearer those mountains he knew that Chericoke was + standing under the clouded sky, with the half-bared elms knocking night + and day upon the windows. He could see the open doors, through which the + wind blew steadily, and the crooked stair down which his mother had come + in her careless girlhood. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him, lying there, that in this one hour he had drawn closer + into sympathy with his mother, and when he looked up from his pillow, he + half expected to see her merry eyes bending over him, and to feel her thin + and trembling hand upon his brow. His old worship of her awoke to life, + and he suffered over again the moment in his childhood when he had called + her and she had not answered, and they had pushed him from the room and + told him she was dead. He remembered the clear white of her face, with the + violet shadows in the hollows; and he remembered the baby lying as if + asleep upon her bosom. For a moment he felt that he had never grown older + since that day—that he was still a child grieving for her loss—while + all the time she was not dead, but stood beside him and smiled down upon + his pillow. Poor mother, with the merry eyes and the bitter mouth. + </p> + <p> + Then as he looked the face grew younger, though the smile did not change, + and he saw that it was Betty, after all—Betty with the tenderness in + her eyes and the motherly yearning in her outstretched arms. The two women + he loved were forever blended in his thoughts, and he dimly realized that + whatever the future made of him, he should be moulded less by events than + by the hands of these two women. Events might subdue, but love alone could + create the spirit that gave him life. + </p> + <p> + There was a tap at his door, and when he arose and opened it, Mrs. Hicks + handed in a pitcher of hot water and inquired “if he had recollected to + knock upon the floor?” + </p> + <p> + He set the water upon the table, and after he had dressed brushed + hopelessly, with a trembling hand, at the dust upon his clothes. Then he + went to the window and stood gloomily looking down among the great oak + trees to the strip of yard where a pig was rooting in the acorns. + </p> + <p> + A small porch ran across the entrance to the inn, and Jack Hicks was + already seated on it, with a pipe in his mouth, and his feet upon the + railing. His drowsy gaze was turned upon the woodpile hard by, where an + old negro slave was chopping aimlessly into a new pine log, and a black + urchin gathering chips into a big split basket. At a little distance the + Hopeville stage was drawn out under the trees, the empty shafts lying upon + the ground, and on the box a red and black rooster stood crowing. Overhead + there was a dull gray sky, and the scene, in all its ugliness, showed + stripped of the redeeming grace of lights and shadows. + </p> + <p> + Jack Hicks, smoking on his porch, presented a picture of bodily comfort + and philosophic ease of mind. He was owner of some rich acres, and his + possessions, it was said, might have been readily doubled had he chosen to + barter for them the peace of perfect inactivity. To do him justice the + idea had never occurred to him in the light of a temptation, and when a + neighbour had once remarked in his hearing that he “reckoned Jack would + rather lose a dollar than walk a mile to fetch it,” he had answered + blandly, and without embarrassment, that “a mile was a goodish stretch on + a sandy road.” So he sat and dozed beneath his sturdy oaks, while his wife + went ragged at the heels and his swarm of tow-headed children rolled + contentedly with the pigs among the acorns. + </p> + <p> + Dan was still looking moodily down into the yard, when he heard a gentle + pressure upon the handle of his door, and as he turned, it opened quickly + and Big Abel, bearing a large white bundle upon his shoulders, staggered + into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Ef'n you'd des let me knowed hit, I could er brung a bigger load,” he + remarked sternly. + </p> + <p> + While he drew breath Dan stared at him with the blankness of surprise. + “Where did you come from, Big Abel?” he questioned at last, speaking in a + whisper. + </p> + <p> + Big Abel was busily untying the sheet he had brought, and spreading out + the contents upon the bed, and he did not pause as he sullenly answered:— + </p> + <p> + “Ole Marster's.” + </p> + <p> + “Who sent you?” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel snorted. “Who gwine sen' me?” he demanded in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I declare,” said Dan, and after a moment, “how did you get away, + man?” + </p> + <p> + “Lawd, Lawd,” returned Big Abel, “I wa'n' bo'n yestiddy nur de day befo'. + Terreckly I seed you a-cuttin' up de drive, I knowed dar wuz mo' den wuz + in de tail er de eye, en w'en you des lit right out agin en bang de do' + behint you fitten ter bus' hit, den I begin ter steddy 'bout de close in + de big wa'drobe. I got out one er ole Miss's sheets w'en she wa'n' lookin, + en I tie up all de summer close de bes' I kin—caze dat ar do' bang + hit ain' soun' like you gwine be back fo' de summer right plum hyer. I'se + done heah a do' bang befo' now, en dars mo' in it den des de shettin' ter + stay shet.” + </p> + <p> + “So you ran away?” said Dan, with a long whistle. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you done run away?” + </p> + <p> + “I—oh, I was turned out,” answered the young man, with his eyes on + the negro. “But—bless my soul, Big Abel, why did you do it?” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel muttered something beneath his breath, and went on laying out the + things. + </p> + <p> + “How you gwine git dese yer close ef I ain' tote 'em 'long de road?” he + asked presently. “How you gwine git dis yer close bresh ef I ain' brung + hit ter you? Whar de close you got? Whar de close bresh?” + </p> + <p> + “You're a fool, Big Abel,” retorted Dan. “Go back where you belong and + don't hang about me any more. I'm a beggar, I tell you, and I'm likely to + be a beggar at the judgment day.” + </p> + <p> + “Whar de close bresh?” repeated Big Abel, scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “What would Saphiry say, I'd like to know?” went on Dan. “It isn't fair to + Saphiry to run off this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Don' you bodder 'bout Saphiry,” responded Big Abel. “I'se done loss my + tase fur Saphiry, young Marster.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you you're a fool,” snapped out Dan, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “De Lawd he knows,” piously rejoined Big Abel, and he added: “Dar ain' no + use a-rumpasin' case hyer I is en hyer I'se gwine ter stay. Whar you run, + dar I'se gwine ter run right atter, so 'tain' no use a-rumpasin'. Hit's a + pity dese yer ain' nuttin' but summer close.” + </p> + <p> + Dan looked at him a moment in silence, then he put out his hand and + slapped him upon the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “You're a fool—God bless you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Go 'way f'om yer, young Marster,” responded the negro, in a high + good-humour. “Dar's a speck er dut right on yo' shut.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give me another,” cried Dan, gayly, and threw off his coat. + </p> + <p> + When he went down stairs, carefully brushed, a half-hour afterward, the + world had grown suddenly to wear a more cheerful aspect. He greeted Mrs. + Hicks with his careless good-humour, and spoke pleasantly to the dirty + white-haired children that streamed through the dining room. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'll take my breakfast now, if you please,” he said as he sat down + at one end of the long, oilcloth-covered table. Mrs. Hicks brought him his + coffee and cakes, and then stood, with her hands upon a chair back, and + watched him with a frank delight in his well-dressed comely figure. + </p> + <p> + “You do favour the Major, Mr. Dan,” she suddenly remarked. + </p> + <p> + He started impatiently. “Oh, the Lightfoots are all alike, you know,” he + responded. “We are fond of saying that a strain of Lightfoot blood is good + for two centuries of intermixing.” Then, as he looked up at her faded + wrapper and twisted curl papers, he flinched and turned away as if her + ugliness afflicted his eyes. “Do not let me keep you,” he added hastily. + </p> + <p> + But the woman stooped to shake a child that was tugging at her dress, and + talked on in her drawling voice, while a greedy interest gave life to her + worn and sallow face. “How long do you think of stayin'?” she asked + curiously, “and do you often take a notion to walk so fur in the dead of + night? Why, I declar, when I looked out an' saw you I couldn't believe my + eyes. That's not Mr. Dan, I said, you won't catch Mr. Dan out in the pitch + darkness with a lantern and ten miles from home.” + </p> + <p> + “I really do not want to keep you,” he broke in shortly, all the + good-humour gone from his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Thar ain't nothin' to do right now,” she answered with a searching look + into his face. “I was jest waitin' to bring you some mo' cakes.” She went + out and came in presently with a fresh plateful. “I remember jest as well + the first time you ever took breakfast here,” she said. “You wa'n't more'n + twelve, I don't reckon, an' the Major brought you by in the coach, with + Big Abel driving. The Major didn't like the molasses we gave him, and he + pushed the pitcher away and said it wasn't fit for pigs; and then you + looked about real peart and spoke up, 'It's good molasses, grandpa, I like + it.' Sakes alive, it seems jest like yestiddy. I don't reckon the Major is + comin' by to-day, is he?” + </p> + <p> + He pushed his plate away and rose hurriedly, then, without replying, he + brushed past her, and went out upon the porch. + </p> + <p> + There he found Jack Hicks, and forced himself squarely into a discussion + of his altered fortunes. “I may as well tell you, Jack,” he said, with a + touch of arrogance, “that I'm turned out upon the world, at last, and I've + got to make a living. I've left Chericoke for good, and as I've got to + stay here until I find a place to go, there's no use making a secret of + it.” + </p> + <p> + The pipe dropped from Jack's mouth, and he stared back in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Bless my soul and body!” he exclaimed. “Is the old gentleman crazy or is + you?” + </p> + <p> + “You forget yourself,” sharply retorted Dan. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” pursued Jack, good-naturedly, as he knocked the ashes from + his pipe and slowly refilled it. “If you hadn't have told me, I wouldn't + have believed you—well, well.” He put his pipe into his mouth and + hung on it for a moment; then he took it out and spoke thoughtfully. “I + reckon I've known you from a child, haven't I, Mr. Dan?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “That's so, Jack,” responded the young man, “and if you can recommend me, + I want you to help me to a job for a week or two—then I'm off to + town.” + </p> + <p> + “I've known you from a child year in an' year out,” went on Jack, blandly + disregarding the interruption. “From the time you was sech a + pleasant-spoken little boy that it did me good to bow to you when you rode + by with the Major. 'Thar's not another like him in the country,' I said to + Bill Bates, an' he said to me, 'Thar's not a man between here an' + Leicesterburg as ain't ready to say the same.' Then time went on an' you + got bigger, an' the year came when the crops failed an' Sairy got sick, + an' I took a mortgage on this here house—an' what should happen but + that you stepped right up an' paid it out of yo' own pocket. And you kept + it from the Major. Lord, Lord, to think the Major never knew which way the + money went.” + </p> + <p> + “We won't speak of that,” said Dan, throwing back his head. The thought + that the innkeeper might be going to offer him the money stung him into + anger. + </p> + <p> + But Jack knew his man, and he would as soon have thought of throwing a + handful of dust into his face. “Jest as you like, suh, jest as you like,” + he returned easily, and went on smoking. + </p> + <p> + Dan sat down in a chair upon the porch, and taking out his knife began + idly whittling at the end of a stick. A small boy, in blue jean breeches, + watched him eagerly from the steps, and he spoke to him pleasantly while + he cut into the wood. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever see a horse's head on a cane, sonny?” + </p> + <p> + The child sucked his dirty thumb and edged nearer. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, suh, but I've seen a dawg's,” he answered, drawing out his thumb + like a stopper and sticking it in again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you watch this and you'll see a horse's. There, now don't take your + eyes away.” + </p> + <p> + He whittled silently for a time, then as he looked up his glance fell on + the stagecoach in the yard, and he turned from it to Jack Hicks. + </p> + <p> + “There's one thing on earth I know about, Jack,” he said, “and that's a + horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a better jedge in the county, suh,” was Jack's response. + </p> + <p> + As Dan whittled a flush rose to his face. “Does Tom Hyden still drive the + Hopeville stage?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see it's this way,” answered Jack, weighing his words. “Tom + he's a first-rate hand at horses, but he drinks like a fish, and last week + he married a wife who owns a house an' farm up the road. So long as he had + to earn his own livin' he kept sober long enough to run the stage, but + since he's gone and married, he says thar's no call fur him to keep a + level head—so he don't keep it. Yes, that's about how 'tis, suh.” + </p> + <p> + Dan finished the stick and handed it to the child. “I tell you what, + Jack,” he said suddenly, “I want Tom Hyden's place, and I'm going to drive + that stage over to Hopeville this afternoon. Phil Banks runs it, doesn't + he?—well, I know him.” He rose and stood humorously looking out upon + the coach. “There's no time like the present,” he added, “so I begin work + to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Jack Hicks silently stared up at him for a moment; then he coughed and + exclaimed hoarsely:— + </p> + <p> + “The jedgment ain't fur off,” but Dan laughed the prophecy aside and went + upstairs to write to Betty. + </p> + <p> + “I've got a job, Big Abel,” he began, going into his room, where the negro + was pressing a pair of trousers with a flatiron, “and what's more it will + keep me till I get another.” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel gloomily shook his head. “We all 'ud des better go 'long home ter + Ole Miss,” he returned, for he was in no mood for compromises. “Caze I + ain' use ter de po' w'ite trash en dey ain' use ter me.” + </p> + <p> + “Go if you want to,” retorted Dan, sternly, “but you go alone,” and the + negro, protesting under his breath, laid the clothes away and went down to + his breakfast. + </p> + <p> + Dan sat down by the window and wrote a letter to Betty which he never + sent. When he thought of her now it was as if half the world instead of + ten miles lay between them; and quickly as he would have resented the hint + of it from Jack Hicks, to himself he admitted that he was fast sinking + where Betty could not follow him. What would the end be? he asked, and + disheartened by the question, tore the paper into bits and walked moodily + up and down the room. He had lived so blithely until to-day! His lines had + fallen so smoothly in the pleasant places! Not without a grim humour he + remembered now that last year his grievance had been that his tailor + failed to fit him. Last year he had walked the floor in a rage because of + a wrinkled coat, and to-day—His road had gone rough so suddenly that + he stumbled like a blind man when he tried to go over it in his old + buoyant manner. + </p> + <p> + An hour later he was still pacing restlessly to and fro, when the door + softly opened and Mrs. Hicks looked in upon him with a deprecating smile. + As she lingered on the threshold, he stopped in the middle of the room and + threw her a sharp glance over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything you wish?” he questioned irritably. + </p> + <p> + Shaking her head, she came slowly toward him and stood in her soiled + wrapper and curl papers, where the gray light from the latticed window + fell full upon her. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't nothin',” she answered hurriedly. “Nothin' except Jack's been + tellin' me you're in trouble, Mr. Dan.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he has been telling you something that concerns nobody but myself,” + he replied coolly, and continued his walking. + </p> + <p> + There was a nervous flutter of her wrapper, and she passed her knotted + hand over her face. + </p> + <p> + “You are like yo' mother, Mr. Dan,” she said with an unexpectedness that + brought him to a halt. “An' I was the last one to see her the night she + went away. She came in here, po' thing, all shiverin' with the cold, an' + she wouldn't set down but kep' walkin' up an' down, up an' down, jest like + you've been doin' fur this last hour. Po' thing! Po' thing! I tried to + make her take a sip of brandy, but she laughed an' said she was quite + warm, with her teeth chatterin' fit to break—” + </p> + <p> + “You are very good, Mrs. Hicks,” interrupted Dan, in an affected drawl + which steadied his voice, “but do you know, I'd really rather that you + wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + Her sallow face twitched and she looked wistfully up at him. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't that, Mr. Dan,” she went on slowly, “but I've had trouble + myself, God knows, and when I think of that po' proud young lady, an' the + way she went, I can't help sayin' what I feel—it won't stay back. So + if you'll jest keep on here, an' give up the stage drivin' an' wait twil + the old gentleman comes round—Jack an' I'll do our best fur you—we'll + do our best, even if it ain't much.” + </p> + <p> + Her lips quivered, and as he watched her it seemed to him that a new + meaning passed into her face—something that made her look like Betty + and his mother—that made all good women who had loved him look + alike. For the moment he forgot her ugliness, and with the beginning of + that keener insight into life which would come to him as he touched with + humanity, he saw only the dignity with which suffering had endowed this + plain and simple woman. The furrows upon her cheeks were no longer mere + disfigurements; they raised her from the ordinary level of the ignorant + and the ugly into some bond of sympathy with his dead mother. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mrs. Hicks,” he stammered, abashed and reddening. “Why, I shall + take a positive pleasure in driving the stage, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + He crossed to the mirror and carefully brushed a stray lock of hair into + place; then he took up his hat and gloves and turned toward the door. “I + think it is waiting for me now,” he added lightly; “a pleasant evening to + you.” + </p> + <p> + But she stood straight before him and as he met her eyes his affected + jauntiness dropped from him. With a boyish awkwardness he took her hand + and held it for an instant as he looked at her. “My dear madam, you are a + good woman,” he said, and went whistling down to take the stage. + </p> + <p> + Upon the porch he found Jack Hicks seated between a stout gentleman and a + thin lady, who were to be the passengers to Hopeville; and as Dan appeared + the innkeeper started to his feet and swung open the door of the coach for + the thin lady to pass inside. “You'll find it a pleasant ride, mum,” he + heartily assured her. “I've often taken it myself an', rain or shine, + thar's not a prettier road in all Virginny,” then he moved humbly back as + Dan, carelessly drawing on his gloves, came down the steps. “I hope we + haven't hurried you, suh,” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit—not a bit,” returned Dan, affably, slipping on his + overcoat, which Big Abel had run up to hold for him. + </p> + <p> + “You gwine git right soakin' wet, Marse Dan,” said Big Abel, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll not melt,” responded Dan, and bowing to the thin lady he stepped + upon the wheel and mounted lightly to the box. + </p> + <p> + “There's no end to this eternal drizzle,” he called down, as he tucked the + waterproof robe about him and took up the reins. + </p> + <p> + Then, with a merry crack of the whip, the stage rolled through the gate + and on its way. + </p> + <p> + As it turned into the road, a man on horseback came galloping from the + direction of the town, and when he neared the tavern he stood up in his + stirrups and shouted his piece of news. + </p> + <p> + “Thar was a raid on Harper's Ferry in the night,” he yelled hoarsely. “The + arsenal has fallen, an' they're armin' the damned niggers.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. — THE NIGHT OF FEAR + </h2> + <p> + Late in the afternoon, as the Governor neared the tavern, he was met by a + messenger with the news; and at once turning his horse's head, he started + back to Uplands. A dim fear, which had been with him since boyhood, seemed + to take shape and meaning with the words; and in a lightning flash of + understanding he knew that he had lived before through the horror of this + moment. If his fathers had sinned, surely the shadow of their wrong had + passed them by to fall the heavier upon their sons; for even as his blood + rang in his ears, he saw a savage justice in the thing he feared—a + recompense to natural laws in which the innocent should weigh as naught + against the guilty. + </p> + <p> + A fine rain was falling; and as he went on, the end of a drizzling + afternoon dwindled rapidly into night. Across the meadows he saw the lamps + in scattered cottages twinkle brightly through the dusk which rolled like + fog down from the mountains. The road he followed sagged between two gray + hills into a narrow valley, and regaining its balance upon the farther + side, stretched over a cattle pasture into the thick cover of the woods. + </p> + <p> + As he reached the summit of the first hill, he saw the Major's coach + creeping slowly up the incline, and heard the old gentleman scolding + through the window at Congo on the box. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Major, home's the place for you,” he said as he drew rein. “Is it + possible that the news hasn't reached you yet?” + </p> + <p> + Remembering Congo, he spoke cautiously, but the Major, in his anger, + tossed discretion to the winds. + </p> + <p> + “Reached me?—bless my soul!—do you take me for a ground hog?” + he cried, thrusting his red face through the window. “I met Tom Bickels + four miles back, and the horses haven't drawn breath since. But it's what + I expected all along—I was just telling Congo so—it all comes + from the mistaken tolerance of black Republicans. Let me open my doors to + them to-day, and they'll be tempting Congo to murder me in my bed + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Go 'way f'om yer, Ole Marster,” protested Congo from the box, flicking at + the harness with his long whip. + </p> + <p> + The Governor looked a little anxiously at the negro, and then shook his + head impatiently. Though a less exacting master than the Major, he had not + the same childlike trust in the slaves he owned. + </p> + <p> + “Shall you not turn back?” he asked, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Champe's there,” responded the Major, “so I came on for the particulars. + A night in town isn't to my liking, but I can't sleep a wink until I hear + a thing or two. You're going out, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm riding home,” said the Governor, “it makes me uneasy to be away from + Uplands.” He paused, hesitated an instant, and then broke out suddenly. + “Good God, Major, what does it mean?” + </p> + <p> + The Major shook his head until his long white hair fell across his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Mean, sir?” he thundered in a rage. “It means, I reckon, that those + damned friends of yours have a mind to murder you. It means that after all + your speech-making and your brotherly love, they're putting pitchforks + into the hands of savages and loosening them upon you. Oh, you needn't + mind Congo, Governor. Congo's heart's as white as mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Dat's so, Ole Marster,” put in Congo, approvingly. + </p> + <p> + The Governor was trembling as he leaned down from his saddle. + </p> + <p> + “We know nothing as yet, sir,” he began, “there must be some—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go on, go on,” cried the Major, striking the carriage window. “Keep + up your speech-making and your handshaking until your wife gets murdered + in her bed—but, by God, sir, if Virginia doesn't secede after this, + I'll secede without her!” + </p> + <p> + The coach moved on and the Governor, touching his horse with the whip, + rode rapidly down the hill. + </p> + <p> + As he descended into the valley, a thick mist rolled over him and the road + lost itself in the blur of the surrounding fields. Without slackening his + pace, he lighted the lantern at his saddle-bow and turned up the collar of + his coat about his ears. The fine rain was soaking through his clothes, + but in the tension of his nerves he was oblivious of the weather. The sun + might have risen overhead and he would not have known it. + </p> + <p> + With the coming down of the darkness a slow fear crept, like a physical + chill, from head to foot. A visible danger he felt that he might meet face + to face and conquer; but how could he stand against an enemy that crept + upon him unawares?—against the large uncertainty, the utter + ignorance of the depth or meaning of the outbreak, the knowledge of a + hidden evil which might be even now brooding at his fireside? + </p> + <p> + A thousand hideous possibilities came toward him from out the stretch of + the wood. The light of a distant window, seen through the thinned edge of + the forest; the rustle of a small animal in the underbrush; the drop of a + walnut on the wet leaves in the road; the very odours which rose from the + moist earth and dripped from the leafless branches—all sent him + faster on his way, with a sound within his ears that was like the drumming + of his heart. + </p> + <p> + To quiet his nerves, he sought to bring before him a picture of the house + at Uplands, of the calm white pillars and the lamplight shining from the + door; but even as he looked the vision of a slave-war rushed between, and + the old buried horrors of the Southampton uprising sprang suddenly to life + and thronged about the image of his home. Yesterday those tales had been + for him as colourless as history, as dry as dates; to-night, with this new + fear at his heart, the past became as vivid as the present, and it seemed + to him that beyond each lantern flash he saw a murdered woman, or an + infant with its brains dashed out at its mother's breast. This was what he + feared, for this was what the message meant to him: “The slaves are armed + and rising.” + </p> + <p> + And yet with it all, he felt that there was some wild justice in the thing + he dreaded, in the revolt of an enslaved and ignorant people, in the + pitiable and ineffectual struggle for a freedom which would mean, in the + beginning, but the power to go forth and kill. It was the recognition of + this deeper pathos that made him hesitate to reproach even while his + thoughts dwelt on the evils—that would, if the need came, send him + fearless and gentle to the fight. For what he saw was that behind the new + wrongs were the old ones, and that the sinners of to-day were, perhaps, + the sinned against of yesterday. + </p> + <p> + When at last he came out into the turnpike, he had not the courage to look + among the trees for the lights of Uplands; and for a while he rode with + his eyes following the lantern flash as it ran onward over the wet ground. + The small yellow circle held his gaze, and as if fascinated he watched it + moving along the road, now shining on the silver grains in a ring of sand, + now glancing back from the standing water in a wheelrut, and now + illuminating a mossy stone or a weed upon the roadside. It was the one + bright thing in a universe of blackness, until, as he came suddenly upon + an elevation, the trees parted and he saw the windows of his home glowing + upon the night. As he looked a great peace fell over him, and he rode on, + thanking God. + </p> + <p> + When he turned into the drive, his past anxiety appeared to him to be + ridiculous, and as he glanced from the clear lights in the great house to + the chain of lesser ones that stretched along the quarters, he laughed + aloud in the first exhilaration of his relief. This at least was safe, God + keep the others. + </p> + <p> + At his first call as he alighted before the portico, Hosea came running + for his horse, and when he entered the house, the cheerful face of Uncle + Shadrach looked out from the dining room. + </p> + <p> + “Hi! Marse Peyton, I 'lowed you wuz gwine ter spen' de night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I had to get back, Shadrach,” replied the Governor. “No, I won't take + any supper—you needn't bring it—but give me a glass of + Burgundy, and then go to bed. Where is your mistress, by the way? Has she + gone to her room?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Shadrach brought the bottle of Burgundy from the cellaret and placed + it upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, suh, Miss July she set out ter de quarters ter see atter Mahaley,” + he returned. “Mahaley she's moughty bad off, but 'tain' no night fur Miss + July—dat's w'at I tell 'er—one er dese yer spittin' nights + ain' no night ter be out in.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right, Shadrach, you're right,” responded the Governor; and rising + he drank the wine standing. “It isn't a fit night for her to be out, and + I'll go after her at once.” + </p> + <p> + He took up his lantern, and as the old negro opened the doors before him, + went out upon the back porch and down the steps. + </p> + <p> + From the steps a narrow path ran by the kitchen, and skirting the + garden-wall, straggled through the orchard and past the house of the + overseer to the big barn and the cabins in the quarters. There was a light + from the barn door, and as he passed he heard the sound of fiddles and the + shuffling steps of the field hands in a noisy “game.” The words they sang + floated out into the night, and with the squeaking of the fiddles followed + him along his path. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the quarters, he went from door to door, asking for his + wife. “Is this Mahaley's cabin?” he anxiously inquired, “and has your + mistress gone by?” + </p> + <p> + In the first room an old negro woman sat on the hearth wrapping the hair + of her grandchild, and she rose with a courtesy and a smile of welcome. At + the question her face fell and she shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Dis yer ain' Mahaley, Marster,” she replied. “En dis yer ain' Mahaley's + cabin—caze Mahaley she ain' never set foot inside my do', en I ain' + gwine set foot at her buryin'.” She spoke shrilly, moved by a hidden + spite, but the Governor, without stopping, went on along the line of open + doors. In one a field negro was roasting chestnuts in the embers of a log + fire, and while waiting he had fallen asleep, with his head on his breast + and his gnarled hands hanging between his knees. The firelight ran over + him, and as he slept he stirred and muttered something in his dreams. + </p> + <p> + After the first glance, his master passed him by and moved on to the + adjoining cabin. “Does Mahaley live here?” he asked again and yet again, + until, suddenly, he had no need to put the question for from the last room + he heard a low voice praying, and upon looking in saw his wife kneeling + with her open Bible near the bedside. + </p> + <p> + With his hat in his hand, he stood within the shadow of the doorway and + waited for the earnest voice to fall silent. Mahaley was dying, this he + saw when his glance wandered to the shrunken figure beneath the patchwork + quilt; and at the same instant he realized how small a part was his in + Mahaley's life or death. He should hardly have known her had he met her + last week in the corn field; and it was by chance only that he knew her + now when she came to die. + </p> + <p> + As he stood there the burden of his responsibility weighed upon him like + old age. Here in this scant cabin things so serious as birth and death + showed in a pathetic bareness, stripped of all ceremonial trappings, as + mere events in the orderly working out of natural laws—events as + seasonable as the springing up and the cutting down of the corn. In these + simple lives, so closely lived to the ground, grave things were sweetened + by an unconscious humour which was of the soil itself; and even death lost + something of its strangeness when it came like the grateful shadow which + falls over a tired worker in the field. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler finished her prayer and rose from her knees; and as she did so + two slave women, crouching in a corner by the fire, broke into loud + moaning, which filled the little room with an animal and inarticulate + sound of grief. + </p> + <p> + “Come away, Julia,” implored the Governor in a whisper, resisting an + impulse to close his ears against the cry. + </p> + <p> + But his wife shook her head and spoke for a moment with the sick woman + before she wrapped her shawl about her and came out into the open air. + Then she gave a sigh of relief, and, with her hand through her husband's + arm, followed the path across the orchard. + </p> + <p> + “So you came home, after all,” she said. For a moment he made no response; + then, glancing about him in the darkness, he spoke in a low voice, as if + fearing the sound of his own words. + </p> + <p> + “Bad news brought me home, Julia,” he replied, “At the tavern they told me + a message had come to Leicesterburg from Harper's Ferry. An attack was + made on the arsenal at midnight, and, it may be but a rumour, my dear, it + was feared that the slaves for miles around were armed for an uprising.” + </p> + <p> + His voice faltered, and he put out his hand to steady her, but she looked + up at him and he saw her clear eyes shining in the gloom. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, poor creatures,” she murmured beneath her breath. + </p> + <p> + “Julia, Julia,” he said softly, and lifted the lantern that he might look + into her face. As the light fell on her he knew that she was as much a + mystery to him now as she had been twenty years ago on her wedding-day. + </p> + <p> + When they went into the house, he followed Uncle Shadrach about and + carefully barred the windows, shooting bolts which were rusted from + disuse. After the old negro had gone out he examined the locks again; and + then going into the hall took down a bird gun and an army pistol from + their places on the rack. These he loaded and laid near at hand beside the + books upon his table. + </p> + <p> + There was no sleep for him that night, and until dawn he sat, watchful, in + his chair, or moved softly from window to window, looking for a torch upon + the road and listening for the sound of approaching steps. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. — CRABBED AGE AND CALLOW YOUTH + </h2> + <p> + With the morning came trustier tidings. The slaves had taken no part in + the attack, the weapons had dropped from the few dark hands into which + they had been given, and while the shots that might bring them freedom yet + rang at Harper's Ferry, the negroes themselves went with cheerful faces to + their work, or looked up, singing, from their labours in the field. In the + green valley, set amid blue mountains, they moved quietly back and forth, + raking the wind-drifts of fallen leaves, or ploughing the rich earth for + the autumn sowing of the grain. + </p> + <p> + As the Governor was sitting down to breakfast, the Lightfoot coach rolled + up to the portico, and the Major stepped down to deliver himself of his + garnered news. He was in no pleasant humour, for he had met Dan face to + face that morning as he passed the tavern, and as if this were not + sufficient to try the patience of an irascible old gentleman, a spasm of + gout had seized him as he made ready to descend. + </p> + <p> + But at the sight of Mrs. Ambler, he trod valiantly upon his gouty toe, and + screwed his features into his blandest smile—an effort which drew so + heavily upon the source of his good-nature, that he arrived at Chericoke + an hour later in what was known to Betty as “a purple rage.” + </p> + <p> + “You know I have always warned you, Molly,” was his first offensive thrust + as he entered Mrs. Lightfoot's chamber, “that your taste for trash would + be the ruin of the family. It has ruined your daughter, and now it is + ruining your grandson. Well, well, you can't say that it is for lack of + warning.” + </p> + <p> + From the centre of her tester bed, the old lady calmly regarded him. “I + told you to bring back the boy, Mr. Lightfoot,” she returned. “You surely + saw him in town, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I saw him,” replied the Major, loosening his high black stock. + “But where do you suppose I saw him, ma'am? and how? Why, the young + scapegrace has actually gone and hired himself out as a stagedriver—a + common stagedriver. And, bless my soul, he had the audacity to tip his hat + to me from the box—from the box with the reins in his hand, ma'am!” + </p> + <p> + “What stage, Mr. Lightfoot?” inquired his wife, with an eye for + particulars. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wash my hands of him,” pursued the Major, waving her question + aside. “I wash my hands of him, and that's the end of it. In my day, the + young were supposed to show some respect for their elders, and every calf + wasn't of the opinion that he could bellow like a bull—but things + are changed now, and I wash my hands of it all. A more ungrateful family, + I am willing to maintain, no man was ever blessed with—which comes, + I reckon, from sparing the rod and spoiling the child—but I'm sure I + don't see how it is that it is always your temper that gets inherited.” + </p> + <p> + The personal note fell unheeded upon his wife's ears. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to tell me that you came away and left the boy sitting on + the box of a stagecoach?” she demanded sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Would you have me claim a stagedriver as a grandson?” retorted the Major, + “because I may as well say now, ma'am, that there are some things I'll not + stoop to. Why, I'd as lief have an uncle who was a chimney sweep.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot turned uneasily in bed. “It means, I suppose, that I shall + have to get up and go after him,” she remarked, “and you yourself heard + the doctor tell me not to move out of bed for a week. It does seem to me, + Mr. Lightfoot, that you might show some consideration for my state of + health. Do ride in this afternoon, and tell Dan that I say he must behave + himself properly.” + </p> + <p> + But the Major turned upon her the terrific countenance she had last seen + on Jane's wedding day, and she fell silent from sheer inability to utter a + protest befitting the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “If that stagedriver enters my house, I leave it, ma'am,” thundered the + old gentleman, with a stamp of his gouty foot. “You may choose between us, + if you like,—I have never interfered with your fancies—but, by + God, if you bring him inside my doors I—I will horsewhip him, + madam,” and he went limping out into the hall. + </p> + <p> + On the stair he met Betty, who looked at him with pleading eyes, but fled, + affrighted, before the colour of his wrath; and in his library he found + Champe reading his favourite volume of Mr. Addison. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you aren't scratching up my books, sir,” he observed, eying the + pencil in his great-nephew's hand. + </p> + <p> + Champe looked at him with his cool glance, and rose leisurely to his feet. + “Why, I'd as soon think of scrawling over Aunt Emmeline's window pane,” he + returned pleasantly, and added, “I hope you had a successful trip, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I got a lukewarm supper and a cold breakfast,” replied the Major + irritably, “and I heard that the Marines had those Kansas raiders + entrapped like rats in the arsenal, if that is what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I wasn't thinking of that,” replied Champe, as quietly as before. “I + came home to find out about Dan, you know, and I hoped you went into town + to look him up.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I didn't, sir,” declared the Major, “and as for that scamp—I + have as much knowledge of his whereabouts as I care for.—Do you + know, sir,” he broke out fiercely, “that he has taken to driving a common + stage?” + </p> + <p> + Champe was sharpening his pencil, and he did not look up as he answered. + “Then the sooner he leaves off the better, eh, sir?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there's your everlasting wrangling!” exclaimed the Major with a + hopeless gesture. “You catch it from Molly, I reckon, and between you, + you'll drive me into dotage yet. Always arguing! Never any peace. Why, I + believe if I were to take it into my head to remark that white is white, + you would both be setting out to convince me that it is black. I tell you + now, sir, that the sooner you curb that tendency of yours, the better it + will be.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren't we rather straying from the point?” interposed Champe half + angrily. + </p> + <p> + “There it is again,” gasped the Major. + </p> + <p> + The knife slipped in Champe's hand and scratched his finger. “Surely you + don't intend to leave Dan to knock about for himself much longer?” he said + coolly. “If you do, sir, I don't mind saying that I think it is a damn + shame.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you use such language in my presence?” roared the old gentleman, + growing purple to the neck. “Have you, also, been fighting for barmaids + and taking up with gaol-birds? It is what I have to expect, I suppose, and + I may as well accustom my ears to profanity; but damn you, sir, you must + learn some decency;” and going into the hall he shouted to Congo to bring + him a julep. + </p> + <p> + Champe said nothing more; and when the julep appeared on a silver tray, he + left the room and went upstairs to where Betty was waiting. “He's awful, + there's no use mincing words, he's simply awful,” he remarked in an + exhausted voice. + </p> + <p> + “But what does he say? tell me,” questioned Betty, as she moved to a + little peaked window which overlooked the lawn. + </p> + <p> + “What doesn't he say?” groaned Champe with his eyes upon her as she stood + relieved against the greenish panes of glass. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I might speak to him?” she persisted eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear girl, do you want to have your head bitten off for your pains? + His temper is positively tremendous. By Jove, I didn't know he had it in + him after all these years; I thought he had worn it out on dear Aunt + Molly. And Beau, by the way, isn't going to be the only one to suffer for + his daring, which makes me wish that he had chosen to embrace the saintly + instead of the heroic virtues. I confess that I could find it in my heart + to prefer less of David and more of Job.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you?” remonstrated Betty. She pressed her hands together and + looked wistfully up at him. “But what are you going to do about it?” she + demanded. + </p> + <p> + For a moment his eyes dwelt on her. + </p> + <p> + “Betty, Betty, how you care!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Care?” she laughed impatiently. “Oh, I care, but what good does that do?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you care as much for me, I wonder?” She smiled up at him and shook + her head. + </p> + <p> + “No, I shouldn't, Champe,” she answered honestly. + </p> + <p> + He turned his gaze away from her, and looked through the dim old window + panes out upon the clustered elm boughs. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll do this much,” he said in a cheerful voice. “I'll ride to the + tavern this morning and find out how the land lies there. I'll see Beau, + and I'll do my best for him, and for you, Betty.” She put out her hand and + touched his arm. “Dear Champe!” she exclaimed impulsively. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I dare say,” he scoffed, “but is there any message?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him to come back,” she answered, “to come back now, or when he + will.” + </p> + <p> + “Or when he will,” he repeated smiling, and went down to order his horse. + </p> + <p> + At the tavern he found Jack Hicks and a neighbouring farmer or two, seated + upon the porch discussing the raid upon Harper's Ferry. They would have + drawn him into the talk, but he asked at once for Dan, and upon learning + the room in which he lodged, ran up the narrow stair and rapped upon the + door. Then, without waiting for a response, he burst into the room with + outstretched hand. “Why, they've put you into a tenpin alley,” were his + words of greeting. + </p> + <p> + With a laugh Dan sprang up from his chair beside the window. “What on + earth are you doing here, old man?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, just at present I'm trying to pull you out of the hole you've + stumbled into. I say, in the name of all that's rational, why did you + allow yourself to get into such a scrape?” + </p> + <p> + Dan sat down again and motioned to a split-bottomed chair he had used for + a footstool. + </p> + <p> + “There's no use going into that,” he replied frowning, “I raised the row + and I'm ready to bear the consequences.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that's the point, my dear fellow; Aunt Molly and I have been bearing + them all the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I'm sorry for that, but I may as well tell you now that things + are settled so far as I am concerned. I've been kicked out and I wouldn't + go back again if they came for me in a golden chariot.” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly think that's likely to happen,” was Champe's cheerful rejoinder. + “The old gentleman has had his temper touched, as, I dare say, you're + aware, and, as ill-luck would have it, he saw you on the stagecoach this + morning. My dear Beau, you ought to have crawled under the box.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” protested Dan, “it's no concern of his.” He turned his flushed + boyish face angrily away. + </p> + <p> + Champe looked at him steadily with a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I hope + your independence will come buttered,” he remarked. “I doubt if you will + find the taste of dry bread to your liking. By the way, do you intend to + enter Jack Hicks's household?” + </p> + <p> + “For a fortnight, perhaps. I've written to Judge Compton, and if he'll + take me into his office, I shall study law.” + </p> + <p> + Champe gave a long whistle. “I should have supposed that your taste would + be for tailoring,” he observed, “your genius for the fashions is immense.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope to cultivate that also,” said Dan, smiling, as he glanced at his + coat. + </p> + <p> + “What? on bread and cheese and Blackstone?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Blackstone! I never heard he wasn't a well-dressed old chap.” + </p> + <p> + “At least you'll take half my allowance?” + </p> + <p> + Dan shook his head. “Not a cent—not a copper cent.” + </p> + <p> + “But how will you live, man?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, somehow,” he laughed carelessly. “I'll live somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “It's rather a shame, you know,” responded Champe, “but there's one thing + of which I am very sure—the old gentleman will come round. We'll + make him do it, Aunt Molly and I—and Betty.” + </p> + <p> + Dan started. + </p> + <p> + “Betty sent you a message, by the way,” pursued Champe, looking through + the window. “It was something about coming home; she says you are to come + home now—or when you will.” He rose and took up his hat and + riding-whip. + </p> + <p> + “Or when I will,” said Dan, rising also. “Tell her—no, don't tell + her anything—what's the use?” + </p> + <p> + “She doesn't need telling,” responded Champe, going toward the door; and + he added as they went together down the stair, “She always understands + without words, somehow.” + </p> + <p> + Dan followed him into the yard, and watched him, from under the oaks + beside the empty stagecoach, as he mounted and rode away. + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sake, remember my warning,” said Champe, turning in the + saddle, “and don't insist upon eating dry bread if you're offered butter.” + </p> + <p> + “And you will look after Aunt Molly and Betty?” Dan rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll look after them,” replied the other lightly, and rode off at an + amble. + </p> + <p> + Dan looked after the horse and rider until they passed slowly out of + sight; then, coming back to the porch, he sat down among the farmers, and + listened, abstractedly, to the drawling voice of Jack Hicks. + </p> + <p> + When Champe reached Chericoke, he saw Betty looking for him from Aunt + Emmeline's window seat; and as he dismounted, she ran out and joined him + upon the steps. + </p> + <p> + “And you saw him?” she asked breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “It was pleasant to think that you came to meet me for my own sake,” he + returned; and at her impatient gesture, caught her hand and looked into + her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I saw him, my dear,” he said, “and he was in a temper that would have + proved his descent had he been lost in infancy.” + </p> + <p> + She eagerly questioned him, and he answered with forbearing amusement. “Is + that all?” she asked at last, and when he nodded, smiling, she went up to + Mrs. Lightfoot's bedside and besought her “to make the Major listen to + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “He never listened to it in his life, my child,” the old lady replied, + “and I think it is hardly to be expected of him that he should begin at + his present age.” Then she gathered, bit by bit, the news that Champe had + brought, and ended by remarking that “the ways of men and boys were past + finding out.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think the Major will ever forgive him?” asked Betty, hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + “He never forgave poor Jane,” answered Mrs. Lightfoot, her voice breaking + at the mention of her daughter. “But whether he forgives him or not, the + silly boy must be made to come home; and as soon as I am out of this bed, + I must get into the coach and drive to that God-forsaken tavern. After ten + years, nothing will content them, I suppose, but that I should jolt my + bones to pieces.” + </p> + <p> + Betty looked at her anxiously. “When will you be up?” she inquired, + flushing, as the old lady's sharp eyes pierced her through. + </p> + <p> + “I really think, my dear, that you are less sensible than I took you to + be,” returned Mrs. Lightfoot. “It was very foolish of you to allow + yourself to take a fancy to Dan. You should have insisted upon preferring + Champe, as I cautioned you to do. In entering into marriage it is always + well to consider first, family connections and secondly, personal + disposition; and in both of these particulars there is no fault to be + found with Champe. His mother was a Randolph, my child, which is greatly + to his credit. As for Dan, I fear he will make anything but a safe + husband.” + </p> + <p> + “Safe!” exclaimed Betty indignantly, “did you marry the Major because he + was 'safe,' I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot accepted the rebuke with meekness. + </p> + <p> + “Had I done so, I should certainly have proved myself to be a fool,” she + returned with grim humour, “but since you have fully decided that you + prefer to be miserable, I shall take you with me tomorrow when I go for + Dan.” + </p> + <p> + But on the morrow the old lady did not leave her bed, and the doctor, who + came with his saddlebags from Leicesterburg, glanced her over and ordered + “perfect repose of mind and body” before he drank his julep and rode away. + </p> + <p> + “Perfect repose, indeed!” scoffed his patient, from behind her curtains, + when the visit was over. “Why, the idiot might as well have ordered me a + mustard plaster. If he thinks there's any 'repose' in being married to Mr. + Lightfoot, I'd be very glad to have him try it for a week.” + </p> + <p> + Betty made no response, for her throat was strained and aching; but in a + moment Mrs. Lightfoot called her to her bedside and patted her upon the + arm. + </p> + <p> + “We'll go next week, child,” she said gently. “When you have been married + as long as I have been, you will know that a week the more or the less of + a man's society makes very little difference in the long run.” + </p> + <p> + And the next week they went. On a ripe October day, when the earth was all + red and gold, the coach was brought out into the drive, and Mrs. Lightfoot + came down, leaning upon Champe and Betty. + </p> + <p> + The Major was reading his Horace in the library, and though he heard the + new pair of roans pawing on the gravel, he gave no sign of displeasure. + His age had oppressed him in the last few days, and he carried stains, + like spilled wine, on his cheeks. He could not ease his swollen heart by + outbursts of anger, and the sensitiveness of his temper warned off the + sympathy which he was too proud to unbend and seek. So he sat and stared + at the unturned Latin page, and the hand he raised to his throat trembled + slightly in the air. + </p> + <p> + Outside, Betty, in her most becoming bonnet, with her blue barege shawl + over her soft white gown, wrapped Mrs. Lightfoot in woollen robes, and + fluttered nervously when the old lady remembered that she had left her + spectacles behind. + </p> + <p> + “I brought the empty case; here it is, my dear,” she said, offering it to + the girl. “Surely you don't intend to take me off without my glasses?” + </p> + <p> + Mitty was sent upstairs on a search for them, and in her absence her + mistress suddenly decided that she needed an extra wrap. “The little white + nuby in my top drawer, Betty—I felt a chill striking the back of my + neck.” + </p> + <p> + Betty threw her armful of robes into the coach, and ran hurriedly up to + the old lady's room, coming down, in a moment, with the spectacles in one + hand and the little white shawl in the other. + </p> + <p> + “Now, we must really start, Congo,” she called, as she sat down beside + Mrs. Lightfoot, and when the coach rolled along the drive, she leaned out + and kissed her hand to Champe upon the steps. + </p> + <p> + “It is a heavenly day,” she said with a sigh of happiness. “Oh, isn't it + too good to be real weather?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot did not answer, for she was busily examining the contents + of her black silk bag. + </p> + <p> + “Stop Congo, Betty,” she exclaimed, after a hasty search. “I have + forgotten my handkerchief; I sprinkled it with camphor and left it on the + bureau. Tell him to go back at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Take mine, take mine!” cried the girl, pressing it upon her; and then + turning her back upon the old lady, she leaned from the window and looked + over the valley filled with sunshine. + </p> + <p> + The whip cracked, the fat roans kicked the dust, and on they went merrily + down the branch road into the turnpike; past Aunt Ailsey's cabin, past the + wild cherry tree, where the blue sky shone through naked twigs; down the + long curve, past the tuft of cedars—and still the turnpike swept + wide and white, into the distance, dividing gay fields dotted with + browsing cattle. At Uplands Betty caught a glimpse of Aunt Lydia between + the silver poplars, and called joyfully from the window; but the words + were lost in the rattling of the wheels; and as she lay back in her + corner, Uplands was left behind, and in a little while they passed into + the tavern road and went on beneath the shade of interlacing branches. + </p> + <p> + Underfoot the ground was russet, and through the misty woods she saw the + leaves still falling against a dim blue perspective. The sunshine struck + in arrows across the way, and far ahead, at the end of the long vista, + there was golden space. + </p> + <p> + With the ten miles behind them, they came to the tavern in the early + afternoon, and, as a small tow-headed boy swung open the gate, the coach + rolled into the yard and drew up before the steps. + </p> + <p> + Jack Hicks started from his seat, and throwing his pipe aside, came + hurriedly to the wheels, but before he laid his hand upon the door, Betty + opened it and sprang lightly to the ground, her face radiant in the shadow + of her bonnet. + </p> + <p> + “Let me speak, child,” called Mrs. Lightfoot after her, adding, with + courteous condescension, “How are you, Mr. Hicks? Will you go up at once + and tell my grandson to pack his things and come straight down. As soon as + the horses are rested we must start back again.” + </p> + <p> + With visible perturbation Jack looked from the coach to the tavern door, + and stood awkwardly scraping his feet upon the road. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'll go up with all the pleasure in life, mum,” he stammered; + “but I don't reckon thar's no use—he—he's gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Gone?” cried the aghast old lady; and Betty rested her hand upon the + wheel. + </p> + <p> + “Big Abel, he's gone, too,” went on Jack, gaining courage from the + accustomed sound of his own drawl. “Mr. Dan tried his best to git away + without him—but Lord, Lord, the sense that nigger's got. Why, his + marster might as well have tried to give his own skin the slip—” + </p> + <p> + “Where did they go?” sharply put in the old lady. “Don't mumble your + words, speak plainly, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn't tell me, mum; I axed him, but he wouldn't say. A letter came + last night, and this morning at sunup they were off—Mr. Dan in + front, and Big Abel behind with the bundle on his shoulder. They walked to + Leicestersburg, that's all I know, mum.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me get inside,” said Betty, quickly. Her face had gone white, but she + thanked Jack when he picked up the shawl she dropped, and went steadily + into the coach. “We may as well go back,” she added with a little laugh. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot threw an anxious look into her face. + </p> + <p> + “We must consider the horses, my dear,” she responded. “Mr. Hicks, will + you see that the horses are well fed and watered. Let them take their + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I forgot the horses,” returned Betty apologetically, and patiently + sat down with her arm leaning in the window. There was a smile on her + lips, and she stared with bright eyes at the oak trees and the children + playing among the acorns. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. — THE HUSH BEFORE THE STORM + </h2> + <p> + The autumn crept into winter; the winter went by, short and fitful, and + the spring unfolded slowly. With the milder weather the mud dried in the + roads, and the Major and the Governor went daily into Leicesterburg. The + younger man had carried his oratory and his influence into the larger + cities of the state, and he had come home, at the end of a month of + speech-making, in a fervour of almost boyish enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “I pledge my word for it, Julia,” he had declared to his wife, “it will + take more than a Republican President to sever Virginia from the Union—in + fact, I'm inclined to think that it will take a thunderbolt from heaven, + or the Major for a despot!” + </p> + <p> + When, as the spring went on, men came from the political turmoil to ask + for his advice, he repeated the words with a conviction that was in itself + a ring of emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “We are in the Union, gentlemen, for better or for worse”—and of all + the guests who drank his Madeira under the pleasant shade of his maples, + only the Major found voice to raise a protest. + </p> + <p> + “We'll learn, sir, we'll live and learn,” interposed the old gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope we shall live easily,” said the doctor, lifting his glass. + </p> + <p> + “And learn wisdom,” added the rector, with a chuckle. + </p> + <p> + Through the spring and summer they rode leisurely back and forth, bringing + bundles of newspapers when they came, and taking away with them a memory + of the broad white portico and the mellow wine. + </p> + <p> + The Major took a spasmodic part in the discussions of peace or war, + sitting sometimes in a moody silence, and flaring up, like an exhausted + candle, at the news of an abolition outbreak. In his heart he regarded the + state of peace as a mean and beggarly condition and the sure resort of + bloodless cowards; but even a prospect of the inspiring dash of war could + not elicit so much as the semblance of his old ardour. His smile flashed + but seldom over his harsh features—it needed indeed the presence of + Mrs. Ambler or of Betty to bring it forth—and his erect figure had + given way in the chest, as if a strong wind bent him forward when he + walked. + </p> + <p> + “He has grown to be an old man,” his neighbours said pityingly; and it is + true that the weight of his years had fallen upon him in a night—as + if he had gone to bed in a hale old age, with the sap of youth in his + veins, to awaken with bleared eyes and a trembling hand. Since the day of + his wife's return from the tavern, when he had peered from his + hiding-place in his library window, he had not mentioned his grandson by + name; and yet the thought of him seemed forever lying beneath his captious + exclamations. He pricked nervously at the subject, made roundabout + allusions to the base ingratitude from which he suffered; and the + desertion of Big Abel had damned for him the whole faithful race from + which the offender sprang. + </p> + <p> + “They are all alike,” he sweepingly declared. “There is not a trustworthy + one among them. They'll eat my bread and steal my chickens, and then run + off with the first scapegrace that gives them a chance.” + </p> + <p> + “I think Big Abel did just right,” said Betty, fearlessly. + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman squared himself to fix her with his weak red eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're just the same,” he returned pettishly, “just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't steal your chickens, sir,” protested the girl, laughing. + </p> + <p> + The Major grunted and looked down at her in angry silence; then his face + relaxed and a frosty smile played about his lips. + </p> + <p> + “You are young, my child,” he replied, in a kind of austere sadness, “and + youth is always an enemy to the old—to the old,” he repeated + quietly, and looked at his wrinkled hand. + </p> + <p> + But in the excitement of the next autumn, he showed for a time a revival + of his flagging spirit. When the elections came he followed them with an + absorption that had in it all the violence of a mental malady. The four + possible Presidents that stood before the people were drawn for him in + bold lines of black and white—the outward and visible distinction + between, on the one side, the three “adventurers” whom he heartily + opposed, and, on the other, the “Kentucky gentleman,” for whom he as + heartily voted. There was no wavering in his convictions—no + uncertainty; he was troubled by no delicate shades of indecision. What he + believed, and that alone, was God-given right; what he did not believe, + with all things pertaining to it, was equally God-forsaken error. + </p> + <p> + Toward the Governor, when the people's choice was known, he displayed a + resentment that was almost touching in its simplicity. + </p> + <p> + “There's a man who would tear the last rag of honour from the Old + Dominion,” he remarked, in speaking of his absent neighbour. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Major,” sighed the rector, for it was upon one of his weekly visits, + “what course would you have us gird our loins to pursue?” + </p> + <p> + “Course?” promptly retorted the Major. “Why, the course of courage, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The rector shook his great head. “My dear friend, I fear you recognize the + virtue only when she carries the battle-axe,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + For a moment the Major glared at him; then, restrained by his inherited + reverence for the pulpit, he yielded the point with the soothing + acknowledgment that he was always “willing to make due allowance for + ministers of the gospel.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir,” gasped Mr. Blake, as his jaw dropped. His face showed + plainly that so professional an allowance was exactly what he did not take + to be his due; but he let sleeping dangers lie, and it was not until a + fortnight later, when he rode out with a copy of the <i>Charleston Mercury</i> + and the news of the secession of South Carolina, that he found the daring + to begin a direct approach. + </p> + <p> + It was a cold, bright evening in December, and the Major unfolded the + paper and read it by the firelight, which glimmered redly on the frosted + window panes. When he had finished, he looked over the fluttering sheet + into the pale face of the rector, and waited breathlessly for the first + decisive words. + </p> + <p> + “May she depart in peace,” said the minister, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman drew a long breath, and, in the cheerful glow, the + other, looking at him, saw his weak red eyes fill with tears. Then he took + out his handkerchief, shook it from its folds, and loudly blew his nose. + </p> + <p> + “It was the Union our fathers made, Mr. Blake,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And the Union you fought for, Major,” returned the rector. + </p> + <p> + “In two wars, sir,” he glanced down at his arm as if he half expected to + see a wound, “and I shall never fight for another,” he added with a sigh. + “My fighting days are over.” + </p> + <p> + They were both silent, and the logs merrily crackled on the great brass + andirons, while the flames went singing up the chimney. A glass of + Burgundy was at the rector's hand, and he lifted it from the silver tray + and sipped it as he waited. At last the old man spoke, bending forward + from his station upon the hearth-rug. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't seen Peyton Ambler, I reckon?” + </p> + <p> + “I passed him coming out of town and he was trembling like a leaf,” + replied the rector. “He looks badly, by the way. I must remember to tell + the doctor he needs building up.” + </p> + <p> + “He didn't speak about this, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “About South Carolina? Oh, yes, he spoke, sir. It happened that Jack + Powell came up with him when I did—the boy was cheering with all his + might, and I heard him ask the Governor if he questioned the right of the + state to secede?” + </p> + <p> + “And Peyton said, sir?” The Major leaned eagerly toward him. + </p> + <p> + “He said,” pursued the rector, laughing softly. “'God forbid, my boy, that + I should question the right of any man or any country to pursue folly.'” + </p> + <p> + “Folly!” cried the Major, sharply, firing at the first sign of opposition. + “It was a brave deed, sir, a brave deed—and I—yes, I envy the + honour for Virginia. And as for Peyton Ambler, it is my belief that it is + he who has sapped the courage of the state. Why, my honest opinion is that + there are not fifty men in Virginia with the spirit to secede—and + they are women.” + </p> + <p> + The rector laughed and tapped his wine-glass. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't let that reach Mrs. Lightfoot's ears, Major,” he cautioned, + “for I happen to know that she prides herself upon being what the papers + call a 'skulker.'” He stopped and rose heavily to his feet, for, at this + point, the door was opened by Cupid and the old lady rustled stiffly into + the room. + </p> + <p> + “I came down to tell you, Mr. Lightfoot, that you really must not allow + yourself to become excited,” she explained, when the rector had + comfortably settled her upon the hearth-rug. + </p> + <p> + “Pish! tush! my dear, there's not a cooler man in Virginia,” replied the + Major, frowning; but for the rest of the evening he brooded in troubled + silence in his easy chair. + </p> + <p> + In February, a week after a convention of the people was called at + Richmond, the old gentleman surrendered to a sharp siege of the gout, and + through the long winter days he sat, red and querulous, before the library + fire, with his bandaged foot upon the ottoman that wore Aunt Emmeline's + wedding dress. From Leicesterburg a stanch Union man had gone to the + convention; and the Major still resented the selection of his neighbours + as bitterly as if it were an affront to aspirations of his own. + </p> + <p> + “Dick Powell! Pooh! he's another Peyton Ambler,” he remarked testily, “and + on my word there're too many of his kind—too many of his kind. What + we lack, sir, is men of spirit.” + </p> + <p> + When his friends came now he shot his angry questions, like bullets, from + the fireside. “Haven't they done anything yet, eh? How much longer do you + reckon that roomful of old women will gabble in Richmond? Why, we might as + well put a flock of sheep to decide upon a measure!” + </p> + <p> + But the “roomful of old women” would not be hurried, and the Major grew + almost hoarse with scolding. For more than two months, while North and + South barked at each other across her borders, Virginia patiently and + fruitlessly worked for peace; and for more than two months the Major + writhed a prisoner upon the hearth. + </p> + <p> + With the coming of the spring his health mended, and on an April morning, + when Betty and the Governor drove over for a quiet chat, they found him + limping painfully up and down the drive with the help of a great + gold-knobbed walking-stick. + </p> + <p> + He greeted them cordially, and limped after them into the library where + Mrs. Lightfoot sat knitting. While he slowly settled his foot, in its + loose “carpet” slipper, upon the ottoman, he began a rambling story of the + War of 1812, recalling with relish a time when rations grew scant in camp, + and “Will Bolling and myself set out to scour the country.” His thoughts + had made a quick spring backward, and in the midst of events that fired + the Governor's blood, he could still fondly dwell upon the battles of his + youth. + </p> + <p> + The younger man, facing him upon the hearth, listened with his patient + courtesy, and put in a sympathetic word at intervals. No personal anxiety + could cloud his comely face, nor any grievance of his own sharpen the edge + of his peculiar suavity. It was only when he rose to go that he voiced, + for a single instant, his recognition of the general danger, and replied + to the Major's inquiry about his health with the remark, “Ah, grave times + make grave faces, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Then he bowed over Mrs. Lightfoot's hand, and with his arm about Betty + went out to the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “The Major's an old man, daughter,” he observed, as they rolled rapidly + back to Uplands. + </p> + <p> + “You mean he has broken—” said Betty, and stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “Since Dan went away.” As the Governor completed her sentence, he turned + and looked thoughtfully into her face. “It's hard to judge the young, my + dear, but—” he broke off as Betty had done, and added after a pause, + “I wonder where he is now?” + </p> + <p> + Betty raised her eyes and met his look. “I do not know,” she answered, + “but I do know that he will come back;” and the Governor, being wise in + his generation, said nothing more. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon he went down into the country to inspect a decayed + plantation which had come into his hands, and returning two days later, he + rode into Leicesterburg and up to the steps of the little post-office, + where, as usual, the neighbouring farmers lounged while they waited for an + expected despatch, or discussed the midday mail with each newcomer. It was + April weather, and the afternoon sunshine, having scattered the loose + clouds in the west, slanted brightly down upon the dusty street, the + little whitewashed building, and the locust tree in full bloom before the + porch. + </p> + <p> + When he had dismounted, the Governor tied his horse to the long white + pole, raised for that purpose along the sidewalk, and went slowly up the + steps, shaking a dozen outstretched hands before he reached the door. + </p> + <p> + “What news, gentlemen?” he asked with his pleasant smile. “For two days I + have been beyond the papers.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there's news enough, Governor,” responded several voices, uniting in + a common excitement. “There's news enough since Tuesday, and yet we're + waiting here for more. The President has called for troops from Virginia + to invade the South.” + </p> + <p> + “To invade the South,” repeated the Governor, paling, and a man behind him + took up the words and said them over with a fine sarcasm, “To invade the + South!” + </p> + <p> + The Governor turned away and walked to the end of the little porch, where + he stood leaning upon the railing. With his eyes on the blossoming locust + tree, he waited, in helpless patience, for the words to enter into his + thoughts and to readjust his conceptions of the last few months. There + slowly came to him, as he recognized the portentous gravity in the air + about him, something of the significance of that ringing call; and as he + stood there he saw before him the vision of an army led by strangers + against the people of its blood—of an army wasting the soil it + loved, warring for an alien right against the convictions it clung to and + the faith it cherished. + </p> + <p> + His brow darkened, and he turned with set lips to the group upon the + steps. He was about to speak, but before the words were uttered, there was + a cheer from the open doorway, and a man, waving a despatch in his hand, + came running into the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Last night there was a secret session,” he cried gayly, “and Virginia has + seceded! hurrah! hurrah! Virginia has seceded!” The gay voice passed, and + the speaker, still waving the paper in his hand, ran down into the street. + </p> + <p> + The men upon the porch looked at one another, and were silent. In the + bright sunshine their faces showed pale and troubled, and when the sound + of cheers came floating from the courthouse green, they started as if at + the first report of cannon. Then, raising his hand, the Governor bared his + head and spoke:— + </p> + <p> + “God bless Virginia, gentlemen,” he said. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + The next week Champe came home from college, flushed with enthusiasm, + eager to test his steel. + </p> + <p> + “It's great news, uncle,” were his first joyful words, as he shook the + Major's hand. + </p> + <p> + “That it is, my boy, that it is,” chuckled the Major, in a high + good-humour. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going, you know,” went on the young man lightly. “They're getting up + a company in Leicesterburg, and I'm to be Captain. I got a letter about it + a week ago, and I've been studying like thunder ever since.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, it will be a pleasant little change for you,” responded the + old man. “There's nothing like a few weeks of war to give one an + appetite.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot looked up from her knitting with a serious face. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think it may last months, Mr. Lightfoot?” she inquired + dubiously. “I was wondering if I hadn't better supply Champe with extra + underclothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut-tut, ma'am,” protested the Major, warmly. “Can't you leave such + things as war to my judgment? Haven't I been in two? Months! Nonsense! + Why, in two weeks we'll sweep every Yankee in the country as far north as + Greenland. Two weeks will be ample time, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I give them six months,” generously remarked Champe, in defiance of + the Major's gathering frown. + </p> + <p> + “And what do you know about it, sir?” demanded the old gentleman. “Were + you in the War of 1812? Were you even in the Mexican War, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, hardly,” replied Champe, smiling, “but all the same I give them six + months to get whipped.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure I hope it will be over before winter,” observed Mrs. Lightfoot, + glancing round. “Things will be a little upset, I fear.” + </p> + <p> + The Major twitched with anger. “There you go again—both of you!” he + exclaimed. “I might suppose after all these years you would place some + reliance on my judgment; but, no, you will keep up your croaking until our + troops are dictating terms at Washington. Six months! Tush!” + </p> + <p> + “Professor Bates thinks it will take a year,” returned Champe, his + interest overleaping his discretion. + </p> + <p> + “And when did he fight, sir?” inquired the Major. + </p> + <p> + “Well, any way, it's safer to prepare for six months,” was Champe's + rejoinder. “I shouldn't like to run short of things, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll do nothing of the kind, sir,” thundered the Major. “It's going to + be a two weeks' war, and you shall take an outfit for two weeks, or stay + at home! By God, sir, if you contradict me again I'll not let you go to + fight the Yankees.” + </p> + <p> + Champe stared for an instant into the inflamed face of the old gentleman, + and then his cheery smile broke out. + </p> + <p> + “That settles it, uncle,” he said soothingly. “It's to be a war of two + weeks, and I'll come home a Major-general before the holidays.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK THIRD — THE SCHOOL OF WAR + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. — HOW MERRY GENTLEMEN WENT TO WAR + </h2> + <p> + The July sun fell straight and hot upon the camp, and Dan, as he sat on a + woodpile and ate a green apple, wistfully cast his eyes about for a deeper + shade. But the young tree from which he had just shaken its last fruit + stood alone between the scattered tents and the blur of willows down the + gentle slope, and beneath its speckled shadow the mess had gathered + sleepily, after the mid-day meal. + </p> + <p> + In the group of privates, stretched under the gauzy shade on the trampled + grass, the first thing to strike an observer would have been, perhaps, + their surprising youth. They were all young—the eldest hardly more + than three and twenty—and the faces bore a curious resemblance in + type, as if they were, one and all, variations from a common stock. There + was about them, too, a peculiar expression of enthusiasm, showing even in + the faces of those who slept; a single wave of emotion which, rising to + its height in an entire people revealed itself in the features of the + individual soldier. As yet the flower of the South had not withered on its + stalk, and the men first gathered to defend the borders were men who + embraced a cause as fervently as they would embrace a woman; men in whom + the love of an abstract principle became, not a religion, but a romantic + passion. + </p> + <p> + Beyond them, past the scattered tents and the piles of clean straw, the + bruised grass of the field swept down to a little stream and the fallen + stones that had once marked off the turnpike. Farther away, there was a + dark stretch of pines relieved against the faint blue tracery of the + distant mountains. + </p> + <p> + Dan, sitting in the thin shelter on the woodpile, threw a single glance at + the strip of pines, and brought back his gaze to Big Abel who was + splitting an oak log hard by. The work had been assigned to the master, + who had, in turn, tossed it to the servant, with the remark that he “came + out to kill men, not to cut wood.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, Big Abel, this sun's blazing hot,” he now offered cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + Big Abel paused for a moment and wiped his brow with his blue cotton + sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Dis yer ain' no oak, caze it's w'it-leather,” he rejoined in an injured + tone, as he lifted the axe and sent it with all his might into the + shivering log, which threw out a shower of fine chips. The powerful stroke + brought into play the negro's splendid muscles, and Dan, watching him, + carelessly observed to a young fellow lying half asleep upon the ground, + “Big Abel could whip us all, Bland, if he had a mind to.” + </p> + <p> + Bland grunted and opened his eyes; then he yawned, stretched his arms, and + sat up against the logs. He was bright and boyish-looking, with a frank + tanned face, which made his curling flaxen hair seem almost white. + </p> + <p> + “I worked like a darky hauling yesterday,” he said reproachfully, “but + when your turn comes, you climb a woodpile and pass the job along. When we + go into battle I suppose Dandy and you will sit down to boil coffee, and + hand your muskets to the servants.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, are we ever going into battle?” growled Jack Powell from the other + side. “Here I've been at this blamed drilling until I'm stiff in every + joint, and I haven't seen so much as the tail end of a fight. You may rant + as long as you please about martial glory, but if there's any man who + thinks it's fun merely to get dirty and eat raw food, well, he's welcome + to my share of it, that's all. I haven't had so much as one of the + necessities of life since I settled down in this old field; even my hair + has taken to standing on end. I say, Beau, do you happen to have any + pomade about you? Oh, you needn't jeer, Bland, there's no danger of your + getting bald, with that sheepskin over your scalp; and, besides, I'm + willing enough to sacrifice my life for my country. I object only to + giving it my hair instead.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you'll find a little in my knapsack,” gravely replied Dan, to + be assailed on the spot by a chorus of comic demands. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Beau, have you any rouge on hand? I'm growing pale. Please drop a + little cologne on this handkerchief, my boy. May I borrow your powder + puff? I've been sitting in the sun. Don't you want that gallon of stale + buttermilk to take your tan off, Miss Nancy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up!” cried Dan, sharply; “if you choose to turn pigs simply + because you've come out to do a little fighting, I've nothing to say + against it; but I prefer to remain a gentleman, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “He prefers to remain a gentleman, that's all,” chanted the chorus round + the apple tree. + </p> + <p> + “And I'll knock your confounded heads off, if you keep this up,” pursued + Dan furiously. + </p> + <p> + “And he'll knock our confounded heads off, if we keep this up,” shouted + the chorus in a jubilant refrain. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll tell you one thing,” remarked Jack Powell, feeling his + responsibility in the matter of the pomade. “All I've got to say is, if + this is what you call war, it's a pretty stale business. The next time I + want to be frisky, I'll volunteer to pass the lemonade at a Sunday-school + picnic.” + </p> + <p> + “And has anybody called it war, Dandy?” inquired Bland, witheringly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, somebody might, you know,” replied Jack, opening his fine white + shirt at the neck, “did I hear you call it war, Kemper?” he asked + politely, as he punched a stout sleeper beside him. + </p> + <p> + Kemper started up and aimed a blow at vacancy. “Oh, you heard the devil!” + he retorted. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon; it was mistaken identity,” returned Jack suavely. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, my lad, don't fool with Kemper when he's hot,” cautioned + Bland, “He's red enough to fire those bales of straw. I say, Kemper, may I + light my pipe at your face?” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up, now, or he'll be puffing round here like a steam engine,” said a + small dark man named Baker, “let smouldering fires lie on a day like this. + Give me a light, Dandy.” + </p> + <p> + Jack Powell held out his cigar, and then, leaning back against the tree, + blew a cloud of smoke about his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be blessed if I don't think seven hours' drill is too much of a bad + thing,” he plaintively remarked; “and I may as well add, by the bye, that + the next time I go to war, I intend to go in the character of a + Major-general.” + </p> + <p> + “Make it Commander-in-chief. Don't be too modest, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you may laugh if you like,” pursued Jack, “but between you and me, + it was all the fault of those girls at home—they have an idea that + patriotism never trims its sleeves, you know. On my word, I might have + been Captain of the Leicesterburg Guards after Champe Lightfoot joined the + cavalry; but such averted looks were turned from me by the ladies, that I + had to jump into the ranks merely to reinstate myself in their regard. + They made even Governor Ambler volunteer as a private, I believe, but he + was lucky and got made a Colonel instead.” + </p> + <p> + Bland laughed softly. + </p> + <p> + “That reminds me of our Colonel,” he observed. “I overheard him talking to + himself the other day, and he said: 'All I ask is not to be in command of + a volunteer regiment in hell.'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he won't,” put in Dan; “all the volunteers will be in heaven—unless + they're sent down below because they were too big fools to join the + cavalry.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, in heaven's name, why didn't you join the cavalry?” inquired Baker. + </p> + <p> + Dan looked at him a moment, and then threw the apple core at a water + bucket that stood upside down upon the grass. “Well, I couldn't go on my + own horse, you see,” he replied, “and I wouldn't go on the Government's. I + don't ride hacks.” + </p> + <p> + “So you came into the infantry to get court-martialled,” remarked Bland. + “The captain said down the valley, you'll remember, that if the war lasted + a month, you'd be court-martialled for disobedience on the thirtieth day.” + </p> + <p> + Dan growled under his breath. “Well, I didn't enter the army to be + hectored by any fool who comes along,” he returned. “Look at that fellow + Jones, now. He thinks because he happens to be Lieutenant that he's got a + right to forget that I'm a gentleman and he's not. Why, the day before we + came up here, he got after me at drill about being out of step, or some + little thing like that; and, by George, to hear him roar you'd have + thought that war wasn't anything but monkeying round with a musket. Why, + the rascal came from my part of the country, and his father before him + wasn't fit to black my boots.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you knock him down?” eagerly inquired Bland. + </p> + <p> + “I told him to take off his confounded finery and I would,” answered Dan. + “So when drill was over, we went off behind a tent, and I smashed his + nose. He's no coward, I'll say that for him, and when the Captain told him + he looked as if he'd been fighting, he laughed and said he had had 'a + little personal encounter with the enemy.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm willing enough to do battle for my country,” said Jack Powell, + “but I'll be blessed if I'm going to have my elbow jogged by the poor + white trash while I'm doing it.” + </p> + <p> + “He was scolding at us yesterday because when we were detailed to clean + out the camp, we gave the order to the servants,” put in Baker. “Clean out + the camp! Does he think my grandmother was a chambermaid?” He suddenly + broke off and helped himself to a drink of water from a dripping bucket + that a tall mountaineer was passing round the group. + </p> + <p> + “Been to the creek, Pinetop?” he asked good-humouredly. + </p> + <p> + The mountaineer, who had won his title from his great height, towering as + he did above every man in the company, nodded drowsily as he settled + himself upon the ground. He was lithe and hardy as a young hickory, and + his abundant hair was of the colour of ripe wheat. At the call to arms he + had come, with long strides, down from his bare little cabin in the Blue + Ridge, bringing with him a flintlock musket, a corncob pipe, and a + stockingful of Virginia tobacco. Since the day of his arrival, he had + accepted the pointed jokes of the mess into which he had drifted, with + grave lips and a flicker of his calm blue eyes. They had jeered him + unmercifully, and he had regarded them with serene and wondering + attention. “I say, Pinetop, is it raining up where you are?” a wit had put + to him on the first day, and he had looked down and answered placidly:— + </p> + <p> + “Naw, it's cl'ar.” + </p> + <p> + As he sat down in the group beside the woodpile, Bland tossed him the + latest paper, but carefully folding it into a square, he laid it aside, + and stretched himself upon the brown grass. + </p> + <p> + “This here's powerful weather for sweatin',” he pleasantly observed, as he + pulled a mullein leaf from the foot of the apple tree and placed it over + his eyes. Then he turned over and in a moment was sleeping as quietly as a + child. + </p> + <p> + Dan got down from the logs and stood thoughtfully staring in the direction + of the happy little town lying embosomed in green hills. That little town + gave to him, as he stood there in the noon heat, a memory of deep gardens + filled with fragrance, of open houses set in blue shadows, and of the + bright fluttering of Confederate flags. For a moment he looked toward it + down the hot road; then, with a sigh, he turned away and wandered off to + seek the outside shadow of a tent. + </p> + <p> + As he flung himself down in the strip of shade, his gaze went longingly to + the dim chain of mountains which showed like faint blue clouds against the + sky, while his thoughts returned, as a sick man's, to the clustered elm + boughs and the smooth lawn at Chericoke, and to Betty blooming like a + flower in a network of sun and shade. + </p> + <p> + The memory was so vivid that when he closed his eyes it was almost as if + he heard the tapping of the tree-tops against the roof, and felt the + pleasant breeze blowing over the sweet-smelling meadows. He looked, + through his closed eyes, into the dim old house, seeing the rustling + grasses in the great blue jar and their delicate shadow trembling on the + pure white wall. There was the tender hush about it that belongs to the + memories of dead friends or absent places; a hush that was reverent as a + Sabbath calm. He saw the shining swords of the Major and the Major's + father; the rear door with the microphylla roses nodding upon the lintel, + and, high above all, the shadowy bend of the staircase, with Betty + standing there in her cool blue gown. + </p> + <p> + He opened his eyes with a start, and pillowing his head on his arm, lay + looking off into the burning distance. A bee, straying from a field of + clover across the road, buzzed, for a moment, round his face, and then + knocked, with a flapping noise, against the canvas tent. Far away, beyond + the murmur of the camp, he heard a partridge whistling in a tangled + meadow; and at the same instant his own name called through the sunlight. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Beau, Beau, where are you?” He sat up, and shouted in response, + and Jack Powell came hurriedly round the tent to fling himself down upon + the beaten grass. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you don't know what you missed!” he cried, chuckling. “You didn't + stay long enough to hear the joke on Bland.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope it's a fresh one,” was Dan's response. “If it's that old thing + about the mule and the darky, I may as well say in the beginning that I + heard it in the ark.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's new, old man. He made the mistake of trying to get some fun out + of Pinetop, and he got more than he bargained for, that's all. He began to + tease him about those blue jean trousers he carries in his knapsack. + You've seen them, I reckon?” + </p> + <p> + Dan nodded as he chewed idly at a blade of grass. “I tried to get him to + throw them away yesterday,” he said, “and he did go so far as to haul them + out and look them over; but after meditating a half hour, he packed them + away again and declared there was 'a sight of wear left in them still.' He + told me if he ever made up his mind to get rid of them, and peace should + come next day, he'd never forgive himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I warned Bland not to meddle with him,” pursued Jack, “but he got + bored and set in to make things lively. 'Look here, Pinetop,' he began, + 'will you do me the favour to give me the name of the tailor who made your + blue jeans?' and, bless your life, Pinetop just took the mullein leaf from + his eyes, and sang out 'Maw.' That was what Bland wanted, of course, so, + without waiting for the danger signal, he plunged in again. 'Then if you + don't object I should be glad to have the pattern of them,' he went on, as + smooth as butter. 'I want them to wear when I go home again, you know. + Why, they're just the things to take a lady's eye—they have almost + the fit of a flour-sack—and the ladies are fond of flour, aren't + they?' The whole crowd was waiting, ready to howl at Pinetop's answer, + and, sure enough, he raised himself on his elbow, and drawled out in his + sing-song tone: 'I say, Sonny, ain't yo' Maw done put you into breeches + yit?'” + </p> + <p> + “It serves him right,” said Dan sternly, “and that's what I like about + Pinetop, Jack, there's no ruffling him.” He brushed off the bee that had + fallen on his head, and dodged as it angrily flew back again. + </p> + <p> + “Some of the boys raised a row when he came into our mess,” returned Jack, + “but where every man's fighting for his country, we're all equal, say I. + What makes me dog-tired, though, is the airs some of these fool officers + put on; all this talk about an 'officer's mess' now, as if a man is too + good to eat with me who wouldn't dare to sit down to my table if he had on + civilian's clothes. It's all bosh, that's what it is.” + </p> + <p> + He got up and strolled off with his grievance, and Dan, stretching himself + upon the ground, looked across the hills, to the far mountains where the + shadows thickened. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. — THE DAY'S MARCH + </h2> + <p> + In the gray dawn tents were struck, and five days' rations were issued + with the marching orders. As Dan packed his knapsack with trembling hands, + he saw men stalking back and forth like gigantic shadows, and heard the + hoarse shouting of the company officers through the thick fog which had + rolled down from the mountains. There was a persistent buzz in the air, as + if a great swarm of bees had settled over the misty valley. Each man was + asking unanswerable questions of his neighbour. + </p> + <p> + At a little distance Big Abel, with several of the company “darkies” was + struggling energetically over the property of the mess, storing the + cooking utensils into a stout camp chest, which the strength of several + men would lift, when filled, into the wagon. Bland, who had just tossed + his overcoat across to them, turned abruptly upon Dan, and demanded warmly + “what had become of his case of razors?” + </p> + <p> + “Where are we going?” was Dan's response, as he knelt down to roll up his + oilcloth and blanket. “By Jove, it looks as if we'd gobble up Patterson + for breakfast!” + </p> + <p> + “I say, where's my case of razors?” inquired Bland, with irritation. “They + were lying here a moment ago, and now they're gone. Dandy, have you got my + razors?” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Beau, what are you going to leave behind?” asked Kemper over + Bland's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Leave behind? Why, dull care,” rejoined Dan gayly. “By the way, Pinetop, + why don't you save your appetite for Patterson's dainties?” + </p> + <p> + Pinetop, who was leisurely eating his breakfast of “hardtack” and bacon, + took a long draught from his tin cup, and replied, as he wiped his mouth + on his shirt sleeve, that he “reckoned thar wouldn't be any trouble about + finding room for them, too.” The general gayety was reflected in his face; + he laughed as he bit deeply into his half-cooked bacon. + </p> + <p> + Dan stood up and nervously strapped on his knapsack; then he swung his + canteen over his shoulder and carefully tightened his belt. His face was + flushed, and when he spoke his voice quivered with emotion. It seemed to + him that the delay of every instant was a reckless waste of time, and he + trembled at the thought that the enemy might be preparing to fall upon + them unawares; that while the camp was swarming like an ant's nest, + Patterson and his men might be making good use of the fleeting moments. + </p> + <p> + “Why the devil don't we move? We ought to move,” he said angrily, as he + glanced round the crowded field where the men were arraying themselves in + all the useless trappings of the Southern volunteer. Kemper was busily + placing his necessary toilet articles in his haversack, having thrown away + half his rations for the purpose; Jack Powell, completely dressed for the + march, was examining his heavy revolver, with the conscious pride a field + officer might have felt in his sword. As he stuck it into his belt, he + straightened himself with a laugh and jauntily set his small cap on his + curling hair; he was clean, comely, and smooth-shaven as if he had just + stepped from a hot bath and the hands of his barber. + </p> + <p> + “You may roll Dandy in the dust and he'll come out washed,” Baker had once + forcibly remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I say, boys, why don't we start?” persisted Dan impatiently, flicking + with his handkerchief at a grain of sand on his high boots. Then, as Big + Abel brought him a cup of coffee, he drank it standing, casting eager + glances over the rim of his cup. He had an odd feeling that it was all a + great fox hunt they were soon to start upon; that they were waiting only + for the calling of the hounds. The Major's fighting blood had stirred + within his grandson's veins, and generations of dead Lightfoots were + scenting the coming battle from the dust. When Dan thought now of the end + to which he should presently be marching, it suggested to him but a + quickened exhilaration of the pulses and an old engraving of “Waterloo,” + which hung on the dining-room wall at Chericoke. That was war; and he + remembered vividly the childish thrill with which he had first looked up + at it. He saw the prancing horses, the dramatic gestures of the generals + with flowing hair, the blur of waving flags and naked swords. It was like + a page torn from the eternal Romance; a page upon which he and his + comrades should play heroic parts; and it was white blood, indeed, that + did not glow with the hope of sharing in that picture; of hanging immortal + in an engraving on the wall. + </p> + <p> + The “fall in” of the sergeant was already sounding from the road, and, + with a last glance about the field, Dan ran down the gentle slope and + across the little stream to take his place in the ranks of the forming + column. An officer on a milk-white horse was making frantic gestures to + the line, and the young man followed him an instant with his eyes. Then, + as he stood there in the warm sunshine, he felt his impatience prick him + like a needle. He wanted to push forward the regiments in front of him, to + start in any direction—only to start. The suppressed excitement of + the fox hunt was upon him, and the hoarse voices of the officers thrilled + him as if they were the baying of the hounds. He heard the musical jingle + of moving cavalry, the hurried tread of feet in the soft dust, the + smothered oaths of men who stumbled over the scattered stones. And, at + last, when the sun stood high above, the long column swung off toward the + south, leaving the enemy and the north behind it. + </p> + <p> + “By God, we're running away,” said Bland in a whisper. With the words the + gayety passed suddenly from the army, and it moved slowly with the + dispirited tread of beaten men. The enemy lay to the north, and it was + marching to the south and home. + </p> + <p> + As it passed through the fragrant streets of Winchester, women, with + startled eyes, ran from open doors into the deep old gardens, and watched + it over the honeysuckle hedges. Under the fluttering flags, past the long + blue shadows, with the playing of the bands and the clatter of the + canteens—on it went into the white dust and the sunshine. From a + wide piazza, a group of schoolgirls pelted the troops with roses, and as + Dan went by he caught a white bud and stuck it into his cap. He looked + back laughing, to meet the flash of laughing eyes; then the gray line + swept out upon the turnpike and went down the broad road through the + smooth green fields, over which the sunlight lay like melted gold. + </p> + <p> + Dan, walking between Pinetop and Jack Powell, felt a sudden homesickness + for the abandoned camp, which they were leaving with the gay little town + and the red clay forts, naked to the enemy's guns. He saw the branching + apple tree, the burned-out fires, the silvery fringe of willows by the + stream; and he saw the men in blue already in possession of his woodpile, + broiling their bacon by the logs that Big Abel had cut. + </p> + <p> + At the end of three miles the brigades abruptly halted, and he listened, + looking at the ground, to an order, which was read by a slim young officer + who pulled nervously at his moustache. Down the column came a single + ringing cheer, and, without waiting for the command, the men pushed + eagerly forward along the road. What was a forced march of thirty miles to + an army that had never seen a battle? + </p> + <p> + As they went on a boyish merriment tripped lightly down the turnpike; + jests were shouted, a wit began to tease a mounted officer who was trying + to reach the front, and somebody with a tenor voice was singing “Dixie.” A + stray countryman, sitting upon the wall of loose stones, was greeted + affectionately by each passing company. He was a big, stupid-looking man, + with a gray fowl hanging, head downward, from his hand, and as he + responded “Howdy,” in an expressionless tone, the fowl craned its long + neck upward and pecked at the creeper on the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Howdy, Jim!” “Howdy, Peter!” “Howdy, Luke!” sang the first line. “How's + your wife?” “How's your wife's mother?” “How's your sister-in-law's + uncle?” inquired the next. The countryman spat into the ditch and stared + solemnly in reply, and the gray fowl, still craning its neck, pecked + steadily at the leaves upon the stones. + </p> + <p> + Dan looked up into the blue sky, across the open meadows to the far-off + low mountains, and then down the long turnpike where the dust hung in a + yellow cloud. In the bright sunshine he saw the flash of steel and the + glitter of gold braid, and the noise of tramping feet cheered him like + music as he walked on gayly, filled with visions. For was he not marching + to his chosen end—to victory, to Chericoke—to Betty? Or if the + worst came to the worst—well, a man had but one life, after all, and + a life was a little thing to give his country. Then, as always, his + patriotism appealed to him as a romance rather than a religion—the + fine Southern ardour which had sent him, at the first call, into the + ranks, had sprung from an inward, not an outward pressure. The sound of + the bugle, the fluttering of the flags, the flash of hot steel in the + sunlight, the high old words that stirred men's pulses—these things + were his by blood and right of heritage. He could no more have stifled the + impulse that prompted him to take a side in any fight than he could have + kept his heart cool beneath the impassioned voice of a Southern orator. + The Major's blood ran warm through many generations. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Beau, did you put a millstone in my knapsack?” inquired Bland + suddenly. His face was flushed, and there was a streak of wet dust across + his forehead. “If you did, it was a dirty joke,” he added irritably. Dan + laughed. “Now that's odd,” he replied, “because there's one in mine also, + and, moreover, somebody has stuck penknives in my boots. Was it you, + Pinetop?” + </p> + <p> + But the mountaineer shook his head in silence, and then, as they halted to + rest upon the roadside, he flung himself down beneath the shadow of a + sycamore, and raised his canteen to his lips. He had come leisurely at his + long strides, and as Dan looked at him lying upon the short grass by the + wall, he shook his own roughened hair, in impatient envy. “Why, you've + stood it like a Major, Pinetop,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + Pinetop opened his eyes. “Stood what?” he drawled. + </p> + <p> + “Why, this heat, this dust, this whole confounded march. I don't believe + you've turned a hair, as Big Abel says.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord,” said Pinetop. “I don't reckon you've ever ploughed up hill + with a steer team.” + </p> + <p> + Without replying, Dan unstrapped his knapsack and threw it upon the + roadside. “What doesn't go in my haversack, doesn't go, that's all,” he + observed. “How about you, Dandy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I threw mine away a mile after starting,” returned Jack Powell, “my + luxuries are with a girl I left behind me. I've sacrificed everything to + the cause except my toothbrush, and, by Jove, if the weight of that goes + on increasing, I shall be forced to dispense with it forever. I got rid of + my rations long ago. Pinetop says a man can't starve in blackberry season, + and I hope he's right. Anyway, the Lord will provide—or he won't, + that's certain.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this the reward of faith, I wonder?” said Dan, as he looked at a lame + old negro who wheeled a cider cart and a tray of green apple pies down a + red clay lane that branched off under thick locust trees. “This way, + Uncle, here's your man.” + </p> + <p> + The old negro slowly approached them to be instantly surrounded by the + thirsty regiment. + </p> + <p> + “Howdy, Marsters? howdy?” he began, pulling his grizzled hair. “Dese yer's + right nice pies, dat dey is, suh.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Uncle, weren't they made in the ark, now?” inquired Bland + jestingly, as he bit into a greasy crust. + </p> + <p> + “De ark? naw, suh; my Mehaley she des done bake 'em in de cabin over + yonder.” He lifted his shrivelled hand and pointed, with a tremulous + gesture, to a log hut showing among the distant trees. + </p> + <p> + “What? are you a free man, Uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “Free? Go 'way f'om yer! ain' you never hyearn tell er Marse Plunkett?” + </p> + <p> + “Plunkett?” gravely repeated Bland, filling his canteen with cider. “Look + here, stand back, boys, it's my turn now.—Plunkett—Plunkett—can + I have a long-lost friend named Plunkett? Where is he, Uncle? has he gone + to fight?” + </p> + <p> + “Marse Plunkett? Naw, suh, he ain' fit nobody.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you tell him from me that he'd better enlist at once,” put in Jack + Powell. “This isn't the time for skulkers, Uncle; he's on our side, isn't + he?” The old negro shook his head, looking uneasily at the froth that + dripped from the keg into the dust. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, suh, Marse Plunkett, he's fur de Un'on, but he's pow'ful feared er + de Yankees,” he returned. + </p> + <p> + Bland broke into a laugh. “Oh, come, that's downright treason,” he + protested merrily. “Your Marse Plunkett's a skulker sure enough, and you + may tell him so with my compliments. You're on the Yankee side, too, I + reckon, and there're bullets in these pies, sure as I live.” + </p> + <p> + The old man shuffled nervously on his bare feet. + </p> + <p> + “Go 'way, Marster, w'at I know 'bout 'sides'?” he replied, tilting his keg + to drain the last few drops into the canteen of a thirsty soldier. “I'se + on de Lawd's side, dat's whar I is.” + </p> + <p> + He fell back startled, for the call of “Column, forward!” was shouted down + the road, and in an instant the men had left the emptied cart, and were + marching on into the sunny distance. + </p> + <p> + As the afternoon lengthened the heat grew more oppressive. Straight ahead + there was dust and sunshine and the ceaseless tramp, and on either side + the fresh fields were scorched and whitened by a powdering of hot sand. + Beyond the rise and dip of the hills, the mountains burned like blue + flames on the horizon, and overhead the sky was hard as an inverted + brazier. + </p> + <p> + Dan had begun to limp, for his stiff boots galled his feet. His senses + were blunted by the hot sand which filled his eyes and ears and nostrils, + and there was a shimmer over all the broad landscape. When he shook his + hair from his forehead, the dust floated slowly down and settled in a + scorching ring about his neck. + </p> + <p> + The day closed gradually, and as they neared the river, the mountains + emerged from obscure outlines into wooded heights upon which the trees + showed soft and gray in the sunset. A cool breath was blown through a + strip of damp woodland, where the pale bodies of the sycamores were + festooned in luxuriant vines, and from the twilight long shadows stretched + across the red clay road. Then, as they went down a rocky slope, a fringe + of willows appeared suddenly from the blur of green, and they saw the + Shenandoah running between falling banks, with the colours of the sunset + floating like pink flowers upon its breast. + </p> + <p> + With a shout the front line plunged into the stream, holding its heavy + muskets high above the current of the water, and filing upon the opposite + bank, into a rough road which wound amid the ferns. + </p> + <p> + Midway of the river, near the fording point, there was a little island + which lay like a feathery tree-top upon the tinted water; and as Dan went + by, he felt the brush of willows on his face and heard the soft lapping of + the small waves upon the shore. The keen smell of the sycamores drifted to + him from the bank that he had left, and straight up stream he saw a single + peaked blue hill upon which a white cloud rested. For a moment he + lingered, breathing in the fragrance, then the rear line pressed upon him, + and, crossing rapidly, he stood on the rocky edge, shaking the water from + his clothes. Out of the after-glow came the steady tramp of tired feet, + and with aching limbs, he turned and hastened with the column into the + mountain pass. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. — THE REIGN OF THE BRUTE + </h2> + <p> + The noise of the guns rolled over the green hills into the little valley + where the regiment had halted before a wayside spring, which lay hidden + beneath a clump of rank pokeberry. As each company filled its canteens, it + filed across the sunny road, from which the dust rose like steam, and + stood resting in an open meadow that swept down into a hollow between two + gently rising hills. From the spring a thin stream trickled, bordered by + short grass, and the water, dashed from it by the thirsty men, gathered in + shining puddles in the red clay road. By one of these puddles a man had + knelt to wash his face, and as Dan passed, draining his canteen, he looked + up with a sprinkling of brown drops on his forehead. Near him, unharmed by + the tramping feet, a little purple flower was blooming in the mud. + </p> + <p> + Dan gazed thoughtfully down upon him and upon the little purple flower in + its dangerous spot. What did mud or dust matter, he questioned grimly, + when in a breathing space they would be in the midst of the smoke that + hung close above the hill-top? The sound of the cannon ceased suddenly, as + abruptly as if the battery had sunk into the ground, and through the sunny + air he heard a long rattle that reminded him of the fall of hail on the + shingled roof at Chericoke. As his canteen struck against his side, it + seemed to him that it met the resistance of a leaden weight. There was a + lump in his throat and his lips felt parched, though the moisture from the + fresh spring water was hardly dried. When he moved he was conscious of + stepping high above the earth, as he had done once at college after an + over-merry night and many wines. + </p> + <p> + Straight ahead the sunshine lay hot and still over the smooth fields and + the little hollow where a brook ran between marshy banks. High above he + saw it flashing on the gray smoke that hung in tatters from the tree-tops + on the hill. + </p> + <p> + An ambulance, drawn by a white and a bay horse, turned gayly from the road + into the meadow, and he saw, with surprise, that one of the surgeons was + trimming his finger nails with a small penknife. The surgeon was a slight + young man, with pointed yellow whiskers, and light blue eyes that squinted + in the sunshine. As he passed he stifled a yawn with an elaborate + affectation of unconcern. + </p> + <p> + A man on horseback, with a white handkerchief tied above his collar, + galloped up and spoke in a low voice to the Colonel. Then, as his horse + reared, he glanced nervously about, grew embarrassed, and, with a sharp + jerk of the bridle, galloped off again across the field. Presently other + men rode back and forth along the road; there were so many of them that + Dan wondered, bewildered, if anybody was left to make the battle beyond + the hill. + </p> + <p> + The regiment formed into line and started at “double quick” across the + broad meadow powdered white with daisies. As it went into the ravine, + skirting the hillside, a stream of men came toward it and passed slowly to + the rear. Some were on stretchers, some were stumbling in the arms of + slightly wounded comrades, some were merely warm and dirty and very much + afraid. One and all advised the fresh regiment to “go home and finish + ploughing.” “The Yankees have got us on the hip,” they declared + emphatically. “Whoopee! it's as hot as hell where you're going.” Then a + boy, with a blood-stained sleeve, waved his shattered arm in the air and + laughed deliriously. “Don't believe them, friends, it's glorious!” he + cried, in the voice of the far South, and lurched forward upon the grass. + </p> + <p> + The sight of the soaked shirt and the smell of blood turned Dan faint. He + felt a sudden tremor in his limbs, and his arteries throbbed dully in his + ears. “I didn't know it was like this,” he muttered thickly. “Why, they're + no better than mangled rabbits—I didn't know it was like this.” + </p> + <p> + They wound through the little ravine, climbed a hillside planted in thin + corn, and were ordered to “load and lie down” in a strip of woodland. Dan + tore at his cartridge with set teeth; then as he drove his ramrod home, a + shell, thrown from a distant gun, burst in the trees above him, and a red + flame ran, for an instant, along the barrel of his musket. He dodged + quickly, and a rain of young pine needles fell in scattered showers from + the smoked boughs overhead. Somewhere beside him a man was groaning in + terror or in pain. “I'm hit, boys, by God, I'm hit this time.” The groans + changed promptly into a laugh. “Bless my soul! the plagued thing went + right into the earth beneath me.” + </p> + <p> + “Damn you, it went into my leg,” retorted a hoarse voice that fell + suddenly silent. + </p> + <p> + With a shiver Dan lay down on the carpet of rotted pine-cones and peered, + like a squirrel, through the meshes of the brushwood. At first he saw only + gray smoke and a long sweep of briers and broom-sedge, standing out dimly + from an obscurity that was thick as dusk. Then came a clatter near at + hand, and a battery swept at a long gallop across the thinned edge of the + pines. So close it came that he saw the flashing white eyeballs and the + spreading sorrel manes of the horses, and almost felt their hot breath + upon his cheek. He heard the shouts of the outriders, the crack of the + stout whips, the rattle of the caissons, and, before it passed, he had + caught the excited gestures of the men upon the guns. The battery + unlimbered, as he watched it, shot a few rounds from the summit of the + hill, and retreated rapidly to a new position. When the wind scattered the + heavy smoke, he saw only the broom-sedge and several ridges of poor corn; + some of the gaunt stalks blackened and beaten to the ground, some still + flaunting their brave tassels beneath the whistling bullets. It was all in + sunlight, and the gray smoke swept ceaselessly to and fro over the smiling + face of the field. + </p> + <p> + Then, as he turned a little in his shelter, he saw that there was a single + Confederate battery in position under a slight swell on his left. Beyond + it he knew that the long slope sank gently into a marshy stream and the + broad turnpike, but the brow of the hill went up against the sky, and + hidden in the brushwood he could see only the darkened line of the + horizon. Against it the guns stood there in the sunlight, unsupported, + solitary, majestic, while around them the earth was tossed up in the air + as if a loose plough had run wild across the field. A handful of + artillerymen moved back and forth, like dim outlines, serving the guns in + a group of fallen horses that showed in dark mounds upon the hill. From + time to time he saw a rammer waved excitedly as a shot went home, or + heard, in a lull, the hoarse voices of the gunners when they called for + “grape!” + </p> + <p> + As he lay there, with his eyes on the solitary battery, he forgot, for an + instant, his own part in the coming work. A bullet cut the air above him, + and a branch, clipped as by a razor's stroke, fell upon his head; but his + nerves had grown steady and his thoughts were not of himself; he was + watching, with breathless interest, for another of the gray shadows at the + guns to go down among the fallen horses. + </p> + <p> + Then, while he watched, he saw other batteries come out upon the hill; saw + the cannon thrown into position and heard the call change from “grape!” to + “canister!” On the edge of the pines a voice was speaking, and beyond the + voice a man on horseback was riding quietly back and forth in the open. + Behind him Jack Powell called out suddenly, “We're ready, Colonel + Burwell!” and his voice was easy, familiar, almost affectionate. + </p> + <p> + “I know it, boys!” replied the Colonel in the same tone, and Dan felt a + quick sympathy spring up within him. At that instant he knew that he loved + every man in the regiment beside him—loved the affectionate Colonel, + with the sleepy voice, loved Pinetop, loved the lieutenant whose nose he + had broken after drill. + </p> + <p> + At a word he had leaped, with the others, to his feet, and stood drawn up + for battle against the wood. Then it was that he saw the General of the + day riding beside fluttering colours across the waste land to the crest of + the hill. He was rallying the scattered brigades about the flag—so + the fight had gone against them and gone badly, after all. + </p> + <p> + Around him the men drifted back, frightened, straggling, defeated, and the + broken ranks closed up slowly. The standards dipped for a moment before a + sharp fire, and then, as the colour bearers shook out the bright folds, + soared like great red birds' wings above the smoke. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to Dan that he stood for hours motionless there against the + pines. For a time the fight passed away from him, and he remembered a + mountain storm which had caught him as a boy in the woods at Chericoke. He + heard again the cloud burst overhead, the soughing of the pines and the + crackling of dried branches as they came drifting down through interlacing + boughs. The old childish terror returned to him, and he recalled his mad + rush for light and space when he had doubled like a hare in the wooded + twilight among the dim bodies of the trees. Then as now it was not the + open that he feared, but the unseen horror of the shelter. + </p> + <p> + Again the affectionate voice came from the sunlight and he gripped his + musket as he started forward. He had caught only the last words, and he + repeated them half mechanically, as he stepped out from the brushwood. + Once again, when he stood on the trampled broom-sedge, he said them over + with a nervous jerk, “Wait until they come within fifty yards—and, + for God's sake, boys, shoot at the knees!” + </p> + <p> + He thought of the jolly Colonel, and laughed hysterically. Why, he had + been at that man's wedding—had kissed his bride—and now he was + begging him to shoot at people's knees! + </p> + <p> + With a cheer, the regiment broke from cover and swept forward toward the + summit of the hill. Dan's foot caught in a blackberry vine, and he + stumbled blindly. As he regained himself a shell ripped up the ground + before him, flinging the warm clods of earth into his face. A “worm” fence + at a little distance scattered beneath the fire, and as he looked up he + saw the long rails flying across the field. For an instant he hesitated; + then something that was like a nervous spasm shook his heart, and he was + no more afraid. Over the blackberries and the broom-sedge, on he went + toward the swirls of golden dust that swept upward from the bright green + slope. If this was a battle, what was the old engraving? Where were the + prancing horses and the uplifted swords? + </p> + <p> + Something whistled in his ears and the air was filled with sharp sounds + that set his teeth on edge. A man went down beside him and clutched at his + boots as he ran past; but the smell of the battle—a smell of oil and + smoke, of blood and sweat—was in his nostrils, and he could have + kicked the stiff hands grasping at his feet. The hot old blood of his + fathers had stirred again and the dead had rallied to the call of their + descendant. He was not afraid, for he had been here long before. + </p> + <p> + Behind him, and beside him, row after row of gray men leaped from the + shadow—the very hill seemed rising to his support—and it was + almost gayly, as the dead fighters lived again, that he went straight + onward over the sunny field. He saw the golden dust float nearer up the + slope, saw the brave flags unfurling in the breeze—saw, at last, man + after man emerge from the yellow cloud. As he bent to fire, the fury of + the game swept over him and aroused the sleeping brute within him. All the + primeval instincts, throttled by the restraint of centuries—the + instincts of bloodguiltiness, of hot pursuit, of the fierce exhilaration + of the chase, of the death grapple with a resisting foe—these awoke + suddenly to life and turned the battle scarlet to his eyes. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Two hours later, when the heavy clouds were smothering the sunset, he came + slowly back across the field. A gripping nausea had seized upon him—a + nausea such as he had known before after that merry night at college. His + head throbbed, and as he walked he staggered like a drunken man. The + revulsion of his overwrought emotions had thrown him into a state of + sensibility almost hysterical. + </p> + <p> + The battle-field stretched grimly round him, and as the sunset was blotted + out, a gray mist crept slowly from the west. Here and there he saw men + looking for the wounded, and he heard one utter an impatient “Pshaw!” as + he lifted a half-cold body and let it fall. Rude stretchers went by him on + either side, and still the field seemed as thickly sown as before; on the + left, where a regiment of Zouaves had been cut down, there was a flash of + white and scarlet, as if the loose grass was strewn with great tropical + flowers. Among them he saw the reproachful eyes of dead and dying horses. + </p> + <p> + Before him, on the gradual slope of the hill, stood a group of abandoned + guns, and there was something almost human in the pathos of their utter + isolation. Around them the ground was scorched and blackened, and + scattered over the broken trails lay the men who had fallen at their post. + He saw them lying there in the fading daylight, with the sponges and the + rammers still in their hands, and he saw upon each man's face the look + with which he had met and recognized the end. Some were smiling, some + staring, and one lay grinning as if at a ghastly joke. Near him a boy, + with the hair still damp on his forehead, had fallen upon an uprooted + blackberry vine, and the purple stain of the berries was on his mouth. As + Dan looked down upon him, the smell of powder and burned grass came to him + with a wave of sickness, and turning he stumbled on across the field. At + the first step his foot struck upon something hard, and, picking it up, he + saw that it was a Minie ball, which, in passing through a man's spine, had + been transformed into a mass of mingled bone and lead. With a gesture of + disgust he dropped it and went on rapidly. A stretcher moved beside him, + and the man on it, shot through the waist, was saying in a whisper, “It is + cold—cold—so cold.” Against his will, Dan found, he had fallen + into step with the men who bore the stretcher, and together they kept time + to the words of the wounded soldier who cried out ceaselessly that it was + cold. On their way they passed a group on horseback and, standing near it, + a handsome artilleryman, who wore a red flannel shirt with one sleeve + missing. As Dan went on he discovered that he was thinking of the handsome + man in the red shirt and wondering how he had lost his missing sleeve. He + pondered the question as if it were a puzzle, and, finally, yielded it up + in doubt. + </p> + <p> + Beyond the base of the hill they came into the small ravine which had been + turned into a rude field hospital. Here the stretcher was put down, and a + tired-looking surgeon, wiping his hands upon a soiled towel, came and + knelt down beside the wounded man. + </p> + <p> + “Bring a light—I can't see—bring a light!” he exclaimed + irritably, as he cut away the clothes with gentle fingers. + </p> + <p> + Dan was passing on, when he heard his name called from behind, and turning + quickly found Governor Ambler anxiously regarding him. + </p> + <p> + “You're not hurt, my boy?” asked the Governor, and from his tone he might + have parted from the younger man only the day before. + </p> + <p> + “Hurt? Oh, no, I'm not hurt,” replied Dan a little bitterly, “but there's + a whole field of them back there, Colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I suppose so—I suppose so,” returned the other absently. “I'm + looking after my men now, poor fellows. A victory doesn't come cheap, you + know, and thank God, it was a glorious victory.” + </p> + <p> + “A glorious victory,” repeated Dan, looking at the surgeons who were + working by the light of tallow candles. + </p> + <p> + The Governor followed his gaze. “It's your first fight,” he said, “and you + haven't learned your lesson as I learned mine in Mexico. The best, or the + worst of it, is that after the first fight it comes easy, my boy, it comes + too easy.” + </p> + <p> + There was hot blood in him also, thought Dan, as he looked at him—and + yet of all the men that he had ever known he would have called the + Governor the most humane. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say—I'll get used to it, sir,” he answered. “Yes, it was a + glorious victory.” + </p> + <p> + He broke away and went off into the twilight over the wide meadow to the + little wayside spring. Across the road there was a field of clover, where + a few campfires twinkled, and he hastened toward it eager to lie down in + the darkness and fall asleep. As his feet sank in the moist earth, he + looked down and saw that the little purple flower was still blooming in + the mud. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. — AFTER THE BATTLE + </h2> + <p> + The field of trampled clover looked as if a windstorm had swept over it, + strewing the contents of a dozen dismantled houses. There were stacks of + arms and piles of cooking utensils, knapsacks, half emptied, lay beside + the charred remains of fires, and loose fence rails showed red and white + glimpses of playing cards, hidden, before the fight, by superstitious + soldiers. + </p> + <p> + Groups of men were scattered in dark spots over the field, and about them + stragglers drifted slowly back from the road to Centreville. There was no + discipline, no order—regiment was mixed with regiment, and each man + was hopelessly inquiring for his lost company. + </p> + <p> + As Dan stepped over the fallen fence upon the crushed pink heads of the + clover, he came upon a circle of privates making merry over a lunch basket + they had picked up on the turnpike—a basket brought by one of the + Washington parties who had gayly driven out to watch the battle. A broken + fence rail was ablaze in the centre of the group, and as the red light + fell on each soiled and unshaven face, it stood out grotesquely from the + surrounding gloom. Some were slightly wounded, some had merely scented the + battle from behind the hill—all were drinking rare wine in honour of + the early ending of the war. As Dan looked past them over the darkening + meadow, where the returning soldiers drifted aimlessly across the patches + of red light, he asked himself almost impatiently if this were the pure + and patriotic army that held in its ranks the best born of the South? To + him, standing there, it seemed but a loosened mass, without strength and + without cohesion, a mob of schoolboys come back from a sham battle on the + college green. It was his first fight, and he did not know that what he + looked upon was but the sure result of an easy victory upon the + undisciplined ardour of raw troops—that the sinews of an army are + wrought not by a single trial, but by the strain of prolonged and + strenuous endeavour. + </p> + <p> + “I say, do you reckon they'll lemme go home ter-morrow?” inquired a + slightly wounded man in the group before him. “Thar's my terbaccy needs + lookin' arter or the worms 'ull eat it clean up 'fo' I git thar.” He shook + the shaggy hair from his face, and straightened the white cotton bandage + about his chin. On the right side, where the wound was, his thick sandy + beard had been cut away, and the outstanding tuft on his left cheek gave + him a peculiarly ill-proportioned look. + </p> + <p> + “Lordy! I tell you we gave it ter 'em!” exclaimed another in excited + jerks. “Fight! Wall, that's what I call fightin', leastways it's put. I + declar' I reckon I hit six Yankees plum on the head with the butt of this + here musket.” + </p> + <p> + He paused to knock the head off a champagne bottle, and lifting the broken + neck to his lips drained the foaming wine, which spilled in white froth + upon his clothes. His face was red in the firelight, and when he spoke his + words rolled like marbles from his tongue. Dan, looking at him, felt a + curious conviction that the man had not gone near enough to the guns to + smell the powder. + </p> + <p> + “Wall, it may be so, but I ain't seed you,” returned the first speaker, + contemptuously, as he stroked his bandage. “I was thar all day and I ain't + seed you raise no special dust.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I ain't claimin' nothin' special,” put in the other, discomfited. + </p> + <p> + “Six is a good many, I reckon,” drawled the wounded man, reflectively, + “and I ain't sayin' I settled six on 'em hand to hand—I ain't sayin' + that.” He spoke with conscious modesty, as if the smallness of his + assertion was equalled only by the greatness of his achievements. “I ain't + sayin' I settled more'n three on 'em, I reckon.” + </p> + <p> + Dan left the group and went on slowly across the field, now and then + stumbling upon a sleeper who lay prone upon the trodden clover, obscured + by the heavy dusk. The mass of the army was still somewhere on the long + road—only the exhausted, the sickened, or the unambitious drifted + back to fall asleep upon the uncovered ground. + </p> + <p> + As Dan crossed the meadow he drew near to a knot of men from a Kentucky + regiment, gathered in the light of a small wood fire, and recognizing one + of them, he stopped to inquire for news of his missing friends. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you wouldn't know your sweetheart on a night like this,” replied the + man he knew—a big handsome fellow, with a peculiar richness of + voice. “Find a hole, Montjoy, and go to sleep in it, that's my advice. + Were you much cut up?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” answered Dan, uneasily. “I'm trying to make sure that we + were not. I lost the others somewhere on the road—a horse knocked me + down.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if this is to be the last battle, I shouldn't mind a scratch + myself,” put in a voice from the darkness, “even if it's nothing more than + a bruise from a horse's hoof. By the bye, Montjoy, did you see the way + Stuart rode down the Zouaves? I declare the slope looked like a field of + poppies in full bloom. Your cousin was in that charge, I believe, and he + came out whole. I saw him afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the cavalry gets the best of everything,” said Dan, with a sigh, and + he was passing on, when Jack Powell, coming out of the darkness, stumbled + against him, and broke into a delighted laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Why, bless my soul, Beau, I thought you'd run after the fleshpots of + Washington!” His face was flushed with excitement and the soft curls upon + his forehead were wet and dark. Around his mouth there was a black stain + from bitten cartridges. “By George, it was a jolly day, wasn't it, old + man?” he added warmly. + </p> + <p> + “Where are the others?” asked Dan, grasping his arm in an almost frantic + pressure. + </p> + <p> + “The others? they're all right—all except poor Welch, who got a ball + in his thigh, you know. Did you see him when he was taken off the field? + He laughed as he passed me and shouted back that he 'was always willing to + spare a leg or two to the cause!'” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you off to?” inquired Dan, still grasping his arm. + </p> + <p> + “I? oh, I'm on the scent of water. I haven't learned to sleep dirty yet, + which Bland says is a sign I'm no soldier. By the way, your darky, Big + Abel, has a coffee-boiler over yonder in the fence corner. He's been + tearing his wool out over your absence; you'd better ease his mind.” With + a laugh and a wave of his hand, he plunged into the darkness, and Dan made + his way slowly to the campfire, which twinkled from the old rail fence. As + he groped toward it curses sprang up like mustard from the earth beneath. + “Get off my leg, and be damned,” growled a voice under his feet. “Oh, this + here ain't no pesky jedgment day,” exclaimed another just ahead. Without + answering he stepped over the dark bodies, and, ten minutes later, came + upon Big Abel waiting patiently beside the dying fire. + </p> + <p> + At sight of him the negro leaped, with a shout, to his feet; then, + recovering himself, hid his joy beneath an accusing mask. + </p> + <p> + “Dis yer coffee hit's done 'mos' bile away,” he remarked gloomily. “En + ef'n it don' tase like hit oughter tase, 'tain' no use ter tu'n up yo' + nose, caze 'tain' de faul' er de coffee, ner de faul' er me nurr.” + </p> + <p> + “How are you, old man?” asked Bland, turning over in the shadow. + </p> + <p> + “Who's there?” responded Dan, as he peered from the light into the + obscurity. + </p> + <p> + “All the mess except Welch, poor devil. Baker got his hair singed by our + rear line, and he says he thinks it's safer to mix with the Yankees next + time. Somebody behind him shot his cowlick clean off.” + </p> + <p> + “Cowlick, the mischief!” retorted Baker, witheringly. “Why, my scalp is as + bald as your hand. The fool shaved me like a barber.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a pity he didn't aim at your whiskers,” was Dan's rejoinder. “The + chief thing I've got against this war is that when it's over there won't + be a smooth-shaven man in the South.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we'll stand them up before our rear line,” suggested Baker, moodily. + “You may laugh, Bland, but you wouldn't like it yourself, and if they keep + up their precious marksmanship your turn will come yet. We'll be a + regiment of baldheads before Christmas.” + </p> + <p> + Dan sat down upon the blanket Big Abel had spread and leaned heavily upon + his knapsack, which the negro had picked up on the roadside. A nervous + chill had come over him and he was shaking with icy starts from head to + foot. Big Abel brought a cup of coffee, and as he took it from him, his + hand quivered so that he set the cup upon the ground; then he lifted it + and drank the hot coffee in long draughts. + </p> + <p> + “I should have lost my very identity but for you, Big Abel,” he observed + gratefully, as he glanced round at the property the negro had protected. + </p> + <p> + Big Abel leaned forward and stirred the ashes with a small stick. + </p> + <p> + “En I done fit fer 'em, suh,” he replied. “I des tell you all de fittin' + ain' been over yonder on dat ar hill caze I'se done fit right yer in dis + yer fence conder, en I ain' fit de Yankees nurr. Lawd, Lawd, dese yer + folks es is been a-sniffin' roun' my pile all day, ain' de kinder folks + I'se used ter, caze my folks dey don' steal w'at don' b'long ter 'em, en + dese yer folks dey do. Ole Marster steal? Huh! he 'ouldn't even tech a + chicken dat 'uz roos'in in his own yard. But dese yer sodgers!—Why, + you cyarn tu'n yo' eye a splinter off de vittles fo' dey's done got 'em. + Dey poke dey han's right spang in de fire en eat de ashes en all.” + </p> + <p> + He went off grumbling to lie down at a little distance, and Dan sat + thoughtfully looking into the smouldering fire. Bland and Baker, having + heatedly discussed the details of the victory, had at last drifted into + silence; only Pinetop was awake—this he learned from the odour of + the corncob pipe which floated from a sheltered corner. + </p> + <p> + “Come over, Pinetop,” called Dan, cordially, “and let's make ready for the + pursuit to-morrow. Why, to-morrow we may eat a civilized dinner in + Washington—think of that!” + </p> + <p> + He spoke excitedly, for he was still quivering from the tumult of his + thoughts. There was no sleep possible for him just now; his limbs twitched + restlessly, and he felt the prick of strong emotion in his blood. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Pinetop, what do you think of the fight?” he asked with an + embarrassed boyish eagerness. In the faint light of the fire his eyes + burned like coals and there was a thick black stain around his mouth. The + hand in which he had held his ramrod was of a dark rust colour, as if the + stain of the battle had seared into the skin. A smell of hot powder still + hung about his clothes. + </p> + <p> + The mountaineer left the shadow of the fence corner and slowly dragged + himself into the little glow, where he sat puffing at his corncob pipe. He + gave an easy, sociable nod and stared silently at the embers. + </p> + <p> + “Was it just what you imagined it would be?” went on Dan, curiously. + </p> + <p> + Pinetop took his pipe from his mouth and nodded again. “Wall, 'twas and + 'twan't,” he answered pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “I must say it made me sick,” admitted Dan, leaning his head in his hand. + “I've always been a fool about the smell of blood; and it made me + downright sick.” + </p> + <p> + “Wall, I ain't got much of a stomach for a fight myself,” returned + Pinetop, reflectively. “You see I ain't never fought anythin' bigger'n a + skunk until to-day; and when I stood out thar with them bullets sizzlin' + like fryin' pans round my head, I kind of says to myself: 'Look here, + what's all this fuss about anyhow? If these here folks have come arter the + niggers, let 'em take 'em off and welcome.' I ain't never owned a nigger + in my life, and, what's more, I ain't never seen one that's worth owning. + 'Let 'em take 'em and welcome,' that's what I said. Bless your life, as I + stood out thar I didn't see how I was goin' to fire my musket, till all of + a jiffy a thought jest jumped into my head and sent me bangin' down that + hill. 'Them folks have set thar feet on ole Virginny,' was what I thought + 'They've set thar feet on ole Virginny, and they've got to take 'em off + damn quick!'” + </p> + <p> + His teeth closed over his pipe as if it were a cartridge; then, after a + silent moment, he opened his mouth and spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “What I can't make out for the life of me,” he said, “is how those boys + from the other states gave thar licks so sharp. If I'd been born across + the line in Tennessee, I wouldn't have fired my musket off to-day. They + wan't a-settin' thar feet on Tennessee. But ole Virginny—wall, I've + got a powerful fancy for ole Virginny, and they ain't goin' to project + with her dust, if I can stand between.” He turned away, and, emptying his + pipe, rolled over upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + Dan lay down upon the blanket, and, with his hand upon his knapsack, gazed + at the small red ember burning amid the ashes. When the last spark faded + into blackness it was as if his thoughts went groping for a light. Sleep + came fitfully in flights and pauses, in broken dreams and brief + awakenings. Losing himself at last it was only to return to the woods at + Chericoke and to see Betty coming to him among the dim blue bodies of the + trees. He saw the faint sunshine falling upon her head and the stir of the + young leaves above her as a light wind passed. Under her feet the grass + was studded with violets, and the bonnet swinging from her arm was filled + with purple blossoms. She came on steadily over the path of grass and + violets, but when he reached out to touch her a great shame fell over him + for there was blood upon his hand. + </p> + <p> + There was something cold in his face, and he emerged slowly from his sleep + into the consciousness of dawn and a heavy rain. The swollen clouds hung + close above the hills, and the distance was obscured by the gray sheets of + water which fell like a curtain from heaven to earth. Near by a wagon had + drawn up in the night, and he saw that a group of half-drenched privates + had already taken shelter between the wheels. Gathering up his oilcloth, + he hastily formed a tent with the aid of a deep fence corner, and, when he + had drawn his blanket across the opening, sat partly protected from the + shower. As the damp air blew into his face, he became quickly and clearly + awake, and it was with the glimmer of a smile that he looked over the wet + meadow and the sleeping regiments. Then a shudder followed, for he saw in + the lines of gray men stretched beneath the rain some likeness to that + other field beyond the hill where the dead were still lying, row on row. + He saw them stark and cold on the scorched grass beside the guns, or in + the thin ridges of trampled corn, where the gay young tassels were now + storm-beaten upon the ripped-up earth. He saw them as he had seen them the + evening before—not in the glow of battle, but with the acuteness of + a brooding sympathy—saw them frowning, smiling, and with features + which death had twisted into a ghastly grin. They were all there—each + man with open eyes and stiff hands grasping the clothes above his wound. + </p> + <p> + But to Dan, sitting in the gray dawn in the fence corner, the first horror + faded quickly into an emotion almost triumphant. The great field was + silent, reproachful, filled with accusing eyes—but was it not filled + with glory, too? He was young, and his weakened pulses quickened at the + thought. Since men must die, where was a brighter death than to fall + beneath the flutter of the colours, with the thunder of the cannon in + one's ears? He knew now why his fathers had loved a fight, had loved the + glitter of the bayonets and the savage smell of the discoloured earth. + </p> + <p> + For a moment the old racial spirit flashed above the peculiar + sensitiveness which had come to him from his childhood and his suffering + mother; then the flame went out and the rows of dead men stared at him + through the falling rain in the deserted field. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. — THE WOMAN'S PART + </h2> + <p> + At sunrise on the morning of the battle Betty and Virginia, from the + whitewashed porch of a little railway inn near Manassas, watched the + Governor's regiment as it marched down the single street and into the red + clay road. Through the first faint sunshine, growing deeper as the sun + rose gloriously above the hills, there sounded a peculiar freshness in the + martial music as it triumphantly floated back across the fields. To Betty + it almost seemed that the drums were laughing as they went to battle; and + when the gay air at last faded in the distance, the silence closed about + her with a strangeness she had never felt before—as if the absence + of sound was grown melancholy, like the absence of light. + </p> + <p> + She shut her eyes and brought back the long gray line passing across the + sunbeams: the tanned eager faces, the waving flags, the rapid, almost + impatient tread of the men as they swung onward. A laugh had run along the + column as it went by her and she had smiled in quick sympathy with some + foolish jest. It was all so natural to her, the gayety and the ardour and + the invincible dash of the young army—it was all so like the spirit + of Dan and so dear to her because of the likeness. + </p> + <p> + Somewhere—not far away, she knew—he also was stepping briskly + across the first sun rays, and her heart followed him even while she + smiled down upon the regiment before her. It was as if her soul were + suddenly freed from her bodily presence, and in a kind of dual + consciousness she seemed to be standing upon the little whitewashed porch + and walking onward beside Dan at the same moment. The wonder of it glowed + in her rapt face, and Virginia, turning to put some trivial question, was + startled by the passion of her look. + </p> + <p> + “Have—have you seen—some one, Betty?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + The charm was snapped and Betty fell back into time and place. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I have seen—some one,” her voice thrilled as she spoke. “I + saw him as clearly as I see you; he was all in sunshine and there was a + flag close above his head. He looked up and smiled at me. Yes, I saw him! + I saw him!” + </p> + <p> + “It was Dan,” said Virginia—not as a question, but in a wondering + assent. “Why, Betty, I thought you had forgotten Dan—papa thought + so, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgotten!” exclaimed Betty scornfully. She fell away from the crowd and + Virginia followed her. The two stood leaning against the whitewashed wall + in the dust that still rose from the street. “So you thought I had + forgotten him,” said Betty again. She raised her hand to her bosom and + crushed the lace upon her dress. “Well, you were wrong,” she added + quietly. + </p> + <p> + Virginia looked at her and smiled. “I am almost glad,” she answered in her + sweet girlish voice. “I don't like to have Dan forgotten even if—if + he ought to be.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't love him because he ought to be loved,” said Betty. “I loved him + because I couldn't help it—because he was himself and I was myself, + I suppose. I was born to love him, and to stop loving him I should have to + be born again. I don't care what he does—I don't care what he is + even—I would rather love him than—than be a queen.” She held + her hands tightly together. “I would be his servant if he would let me,” + she went on. “I would work for him like a slave—but he won't let me. + And yet he does love me just the same—just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “He does—he does,” admitted Virginia softly. She had never seen + Betty like this before, and she felt that her sister had become suddenly + very strange and very sacred. Her hands were outstretched to comfort, but + Betty turned gently away from her and went up the narrow staircase to the + bare little room where the girls slept together. + </p> + <p> + Alone within the four white walls she moved breathlessly to and fro like a + woodland creature that has been entrapped. At the moment she was telling + herself that she wanted to keep onward with the army; then her courage + would have fluttered upward like the flags. It was not the sound of the + cannon that she dreaded, nor the sight of blood—these would have + nerved her as they nerved the generations at her back—but the folded + hands and the terrible patience that are the woman's share of a war. The + old fighting blood was in her veins—she was as much the child of her + father as a son could have been—and yet while the great world over + there was filled with noise she was told to go into her room and pray. + Pray! Why, a man might pray with his musket in his hand, that was worth + while. + </p> + <p> + In the adjoining room she saw her mother sitting in a square of sunlight + with her open Bible on her knees. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, speak, mamma!” she called half angrily. “Move, do anything but sit so + still. I can't bear it!” She caught her breath sharply, for with her words + a low sound like distant thunder filled the room and the little street + outside. As she clung with both hands to the window it seemed to her that + a gray haze had fallen over the sunny valley. “Some one is dead,” she said + almost calmly, “that killed how many?” + </p> + <p> + The room stifled her and she ran hurriedly down into the street, where a + few startled women and old men had rushed at the first roll of the cannon. + As she stood among them, straining her eyes from end to end of the little + village, her heart beat in her throat and she could only quaver out an + appeal for news. + </p> + <p> + “Where is it? Doesn't any one know anything? What does it mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It means a battle, Miss, that's one thing,” remarked on obliging + by-stander who leaned heavily upon a wooden leg. “Bless you, I kin a'most + taste the powder.” He smacked his lips and spat into the dust. “To think + that I went all the way down to Mexico fur a fight,” he pursued + regretfully, “when I could have set right here at home and had it all in + old Virginny. Well, well, that comes of hurryin' the Lord afo' he's + ready.” + </p> + <p> + He rambled on excitedly, but Betty, frowning with impatience, turned from + him and walked rapidly up and down the single street, where the voices of + the guns growled through the muffling distance. “That killed how many? how + many?” she would say at each long roll, and again, “How many died that + moment, and was one Dan?” + </p> + <p> + Up and down the little village, through the heavy sunshine and the white + dust, among the whimpering women and old men, she walked until the day + wore on and the shadows grew longer across the street. Once a man had come + with the news of a sharp repulse, and in the early afternoon a deserter + straggled in with the cry that the enemy was marching upon the village. It + was not until the night had fallen, when the wounded began to arrive on + baggage trains, that the story of the day was told, and a single shout + went up from the waiting groups. The Confederacy was established! + Washington was theirs by right of arms, and tomorrow the young army would + dictate terms of peace to a great nation! The flags waved, women wept, and + the wounded soldiers, as they rolled in on baggage cars, were hailed as + the deliverers of a people. The new Confederacy! An emotion half romantic, + half maternal filled Betty as she bent above an open wound—for it + was in her blood to do battle to the death for a belief, to throw herself + into a cause as into the arms of a lover. She was made of the stuff of + soldiers, and come what might she would always take her stand upon her + people's side. + </p> + <p> + There were cheers and sobs in the little street about her; in the distance + a man was shouting for the flag, and nearer by a woman with a lantern in + her hand was searching among the living for her dead. The joy and the + anguish of it entered into the girl like wine. She felt her pulses leap + and a vigour that was not her own nerved her from head to foot. With that + power of ardent sacrifice which lies beneath all shams in the Southern + heart, she told herself that no endurance was too great, no hope too large + with which to serve the cause. + </p> + <p> + The exaltation was still with her when, a little later, she went up to her + room and knelt down to thank God. Her people's simple faith was hers also, + and as she prayed with her brow on her clasped hands it was as if she gave + thanks to some great warrior who had drawn his sword in defence of the + land she loved. God was on her side, supreme, beneficent, watchful in + little things, as He has been on the side of all fervent hearts since the + beginning of time. + </p> + <p> + But after her return to Uplands in midsummer she suffered a peculiar + restlessness from the tranquil August weather. The long white road + irritated her with its aspect of listless patience, and at times she + wanted to push back the crowding hills and leave the horizon open to her + view. When a squadron of cavalry swept along the turnpike her heart would + follow it like a bird while she leaned, with straining eyes, against a + great white column. Then, as the last rider was blotted out into the + landscape, she would clasp her hands and walk rapidly up and down between + the lilacs. It was all waiting—waiting—waiting—nothing + else. + </p> + <p> + “Something must happen, mamma, or I shall go mad,” she said one day, + breaking in upon Mrs. Ambler as she sorted a heap of old letters in the + library. + </p> + <p> + “But what? What?” asked Virginia from the shadow of the window seat. + “Surely you don't want a battle, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler shuddered. + </p> + <p> + “Don't tempt Providence, dear,” she said seriously, untying a faded ribbon + about a piece of old parchment. “Be grateful for just this calm and go out + for a walk. You might take this pitcher of flaxseed tea to Floretta's + cabin, if you've nothing else to do. Ask how the baby is to-day, and tell + her to keep the red flannel warm on its chest.” + </p> + <p> + Betty went into the hall after her bonnet and came back for the pitcher. + “I'm going to walk across the fields to Chericoke,” she said, “and Hosea + is to bring the carriage for me about sunset. We must have some white silk + to make those flags out of, and there isn't a bit in the house.” + </p> + <p> + She went out, stepping slowly in her wide skirts and holding the pitcher + carefully before her. + </p> + <p> + Floretta's baby was sleeping, and after a few pleasant words the girl kept + on to Chericoke. There she found that the Major had gone to town for news, + leaving Mrs. Lightfoot to her pickle making in the big storeroom, where + the earthenware jars stood in clean brown rows upon the shelves. The air + was sharp with the smell of vinegar and spices, and fragrant moisture + dripped from the old lady's delicate hands. At the moment she had + forgotten the war just beyond her doors, and even the vacant places in her + household; her nervous flutter was caused by finding the plucked corn too + large to salt. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, child, come in,” she said, as Betty appeared in the doorway. + “You're too good a housekeeper to mind the smell of brine.” + </p> + <p> + “How the soldiers will enjoy it,” laughed Betty in reply. “It's fortunate + that both sides are fond of spices.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady was tying a linen cloth over the mouth of a great brown jar, + and she did not look up as she answered. “I'm not consulting their tastes, + my dear, though, as for that, I'm willing enough to feast our own men so + long as the Yankees keep away. This jar, by the bye, is filled with + 'Confederate pickle'—it was as little as I could do to compliment + the Government, I thought, and the green tomato catchup I've named in + honour of General Beauregard.” + </p> + <p> + Betty smiled; and then, while Mrs. Lightfoot stood sharply regarding + Car'line, who was shucking a tray of young corn, she timidly began upon + her mission. “The flags must be finished, and I can't find the silk,” she + pleaded. “Isn't there a scrap in the house I may have? Let me look about + the attic.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady shook her head. “I haven't allowed anybody to set foot in my + attic for forty years,” she replied decisively. “Why, I'd almost as soon + they'd step into my grandfather's vault.” Then as Betty's face fell she + added generously. “As for white silk, I haven't any except my wedding + dress, and that's yellow with age; but you may take it if you want it. I'm + sure it couldn't come to a better end; at least it will have been to the + front upon two important occasions.” + </p> + <p> + “Your wedding dress!” exclaimed Betty in surprise, “oh, how could you?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot smiled grimly. + </p> + <p> + “I could give more than a wedding dress if the Confederacy called for it, + my dear,” she answered. “Indeed, I'm not perfectly sure that I couldn't + give the Major himself—but go upstairs and wait for me while I send + Car'line for the keys.” + </p> + <p> + She returned to the storeroom, and Betty went upstairs to wander leisurely + through the cool faintly lighted chambers. They were all newly swept and + scented with lavender, and the high tester beds, with their slender fluted + posts, looked as if they had stood spotless and untouched for generations. + In Dan's room, which had been his mother's also, the girl walked slowly up + and down, meeting, as she passed, her own eyes in the darkened mirror. Her + mind fretted with the thought that Dan's image had risen so often in the + glass, and yet had left no hint for her as she looked in now. If it had + only caught and held his reflection, that blank mirror, she could have + found it, she felt sure, though a dozen faces had passed by since. Was + there nothing left of him, she wondered, nothing in the place where he had + lived his life? She turned to the bed and picked up, one by one, the + scattered books upon the little table. Among them there was a copy of the + “Morte d'Arthur,” and as it fell open in her hand, she found a bit of her + own blue ribbon between the faded leaves. A tremor ran through her limbs, + and going to the window she placed the book upon the sill and read the + words aloud in the fragrant stillness. Behind her in the dim room Dan + seemed to rise as suddenly as a ghost—and that high-flown chivalry + of his, which delighted in sounding phrases as in heroic virtues, was + loosened from the leaves of the old romance. + </p> + <p> + “For there was never worshipful man nor worshipful woman but they loved + one better than another, and worship in arms may never be foiled; but + first reserve the honour to God, and secondly the quarrel must come of thy + lady; and such love I call virtuous love.” + </p> + <p> + She leaned her cheek upon the book and looked out dreamily into the green + box mazes of the garden. In the midst of war a great peace had come to + her, and the quiet summer weather no longer troubled her with its unbroken + calm. Her heart had grown suddenly strong again; even the long waiting had + become but a fit service for her love. + </p> + <p> + There was a step in the hall and Mrs. Lightfoot rustled in with her + wedding dress. + </p> + <p> + “You may take it and welcome, child,” she said, as she gave it into + Betty's arms. “I can't help feeling that there was something providential + in my selecting white when my taste always leaned toward a peach-blow + brocade. Well, well, who would have believed that I was buying a flag as + well as a frock? If I'd even hinted such a thing, they would have said I + had the vapours.” + </p> + <p> + Betty accepted the gift with her pretty effusion of manner, and went + downstairs to where Hosea was waiting for her with the big carriage. As + she drove home in a happy revery, her eyes dwelt contentedly on the + sunburnt August fields, and the thought of war did not enter in to disturb + her dreams. + </p> + <p> + Once a line of Confederate cavalrymen rode by at a gallop and saluted her + as her face showed at the window. They were strangers to her, but with the + peculiar feeling of kinship which united the people of the South, she + leaned out to wish them “God speed” as she waved her handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + When, a little later, she turned into the drive at Uplands, it was to + find, from the prints upon the gravel, that the soldiers had been there + before her. Beyond the Doric columns she caught a glimpse of a gray + sleeve, and for a single instant a wild hope shot up within her heart. + Then as the carriage stopped, and she sprang quickly to the ground, the + man in gray came out upon the portico, and she saw that it was Jack + Morson. + </p> + <p> + “I've come for Virginia, Betty,” he began impulsively, as he took her + hand, “and she promises to marry me before the battle.” + </p> + <p> + Betty laughed with trembling lips. “And here is the dress,” she said + gayly, holding out the yellowed silk. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. — ON THE ROAD TO ROMNEY + </h2> + <p> + After a peaceful Christmas, New Year's Day rose bright and mild, and Dan + as he started from Winchester with the column felt that he was escaping to + freedom from the tedious duties of camp life. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God we're on the war-path again,” he remarked to Pinetop, who was + stalking at his side. The two had become close friends during the dull + weeks after their first battle, and Bland, who had brought a taste for the + classics from the lecture-room, had already referred to them in pointless + jokes as “Pylades and Orestes.” + </p> + <p> + “It looks mighty like summer,” responded Pinetop cheerfully. He threw a + keen glance up into the blue clouds, and then sniffed suspiciously at the + dust that rose high in the road. “But I ain't one to put much faith in + looks,” he added with his usual caution, as he shifted the knapsack upon + his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Dan laughed easily. “Well, I'm heartily glad I left my overcoat behind + me,” he said, breathing hard as he climbed the mountain road, where the + red clay had stiffened into channels. + </p> + <p> + The sunshine fell brightly over them, lying in golden drops upon the + fallen leaves. To Dan the march brought back the early winter rides at + Chericoke, and the chain of lights and shadows that ran on clear days over + the tavern road. Joyously throwing back his head, he whistled a love song + as he tramped up the mountain side. The irksome summer, with its slow + fevers and its sharp attacks of measles, its scarcity of pure water and + supplies of half-cooked food, was suddenly blotted from his thoughts, and + his first romantic ardour returned to him in long draughts of wind and + sun. After each depression his elastic temperament had sprung upward; the + past months had but strengthened him in body as in mind. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon a gray cloud came up suddenly and the sunshine, after a + feeble struggle, was driven from the mountains. As the wind blew in short + gusts down the steep road, Dan tightened his coat and looked at Pinetop's + knapsack with his unfailing laugh. + </p> + <p> + “That's beginning to look comfortable. I hope to heaven the wagons aren't + far off.” + </p> + <p> + Pinetop turned and glanced back into the valley. “I'll be blessed if I + believe they're anywhere,” was his answer. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if they aren't, I'll be somewhere before morning; why, it feels + like snow.” + </p> + <p> + A gust of wind, sharp as a blade, struck from the gray sky, and whirlpools + of dead leaves were swept into the forest. Falling silent, Dan swung his + arms to quicken the current of his blood, and walked on more rapidly. Over + the long column gloom had settled with the clouds, and they were brave + lips that offered a jest in the teeth of the wind. There were no blankets, + few overcoats, and fewer rations, and the supply wagons were crawling + somewhere in the valley. + </p> + <p> + The day wore on, and still the rough country road climbed upward embedded + in withered leaves. On the high wind came the first flakes of a snowstorm, + followed by a fine rain that enveloped the hills like mist. As Dan + stumbled on, his feet slipped on the wet clay, and he was forced to catch + at the bared saplings for support. The cold had entered his lungs as a + knife, and his breath circled in a little cloud about his mouth. Through + the storm he heard the quick oaths of his companions ring out like distant + shots. + </p> + <p> + When night fell they halted to bivouac by the roadside, and until daybreak + the pine woods were filled with the cheerful glow of the campfires. There + were no rations, and Dan, making a jest of his hunger, had stretched + himself in the full light of the crackling branches. With the defiant + humour which had made him the favourite of the mess, he laughed at the + frozen roads, at the change in the wind, at his own struggles with the wet + kindling wood, at the supply wagons creeping slowly after them. His + courage had all the gayety of his passions—it showed itself in a + smile, in a whistle, in the steady hand with which he played toss and + catch with fate. The superb silence of Pinetop, plodding evenly along, was + as far removed from him as the lofty grandeur of the mountains. A jest + warmed his heart against the cold; with set lips and grave eyes, he would + have fallen before the next ridge was crossed. + </p> + <p> + Through the woods other fires were burning, and long reddish shadows crept + among the pine trees over the rotting mould. For warmth Dan had spread a + covering of dried leaves over him, raking them from sheltered corners of + the forest. When he rose from time to time during the night to take his + turn at replenishing the fire the leaves drifted in gravelike mounds about + his feet. + </p> + <p> + For three days the march was steadily upward over long ridges coated deep + with ice. In the face of the strong wind, which blew always down the steep + road, the army passed on, complaining, cursing, asking a gigantic question + of its General. Among the raw soldiers there had been desertions by the + dozen, filling the streets of the little town with frost-bitten + malcontents. “It was all a wild goose chase,” they declared bitterly, “and + if Old Jack wasn't a March hare—well, he was something madder!” + </p> + <p> + Dan listened to the curses with his ready smile, and walked on bravely. + Since the first evening he had uttered no complaint, asked no question. He + had undertaken to march, and he meant to march, that was all. In the front + with which he veiled his suffering there was no lessening of his old + careless confidence—if his dash had hardened into endurance it wore + still an expression that was almost debonair. + </p> + <p> + So as the column straggled weakly upward, he wrung his stiffened fingers + and joked with Jack Powell, who stumbled after him. The cold had brought a + glow to his tanned face, and when he lifted his eyes from the road Pinetop + saw that they were shining brightly. Once he slipped on the frozen mud, + and as his musket dropped from his hand, it went off sharply, the load + entering the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Are you hurt?” asked Jack, springing toward him; but Dan looked round + laughing as he clasped his knee. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I merely groaned because I might have been,” he said lightly, and + limped on, singing a bit of doggerel which had taken possession of his + regiment. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Then let the Yanks say what they will, + We'll be gay and happy still; + Gay and happy, gay and happy, + We'll be gay and happy still.” + </pre> + <p> + On the third day out they reached a little village in the mountains, but + before the week's end they had pushed on again, and the white roads still + stretched before them. As they went higher the tracks grew steeper, and + now and then a musket shot rang out on the roadside as a man lost his + footing and went down upon the ice. Behind them the wagon train crept inch + by inch, or waited patiently for hours while a wheel was hoisted from the + ditch beside the road. There was blood on the muzzles of the horses and on + the shining ice that stretched beyond them. + </p> + <p> + To Dan these terrible days were as the anguish of a new birth, in which + the thing to be born suffered the conscious throes of awakening life. He + could never be the same again; something was altered in him forever; this + he felt dimly as he dragged his aching body onward. Days like these would + prove the stuff that had gone into the making of him. When the march to + Romney lay behind him he should know himself to be either a soldier or a + coward. A soldier or a coward! he said the words over again as he + struggled to keep down the pangs of hunger, telling himself that the road + led not merely to Romney, but to a greater victory than his General + dreamed of. Romney might be worthless, after all, the grim march but a mad + prank of Jackson's, as men said; but whether to lay down one's arms or to + struggle till the end was reached, this was the question asked by those + stern mountains. Nature stood ranged against him—he fought it step + by step, and day by day. + </p> + <p> + At times something like delirium seized him, and he went on blindly, + stepping high above the ice. For hours he was tortured by the longing for + raw beef, for the fresh blood that would put heat into his veins. The + kitchen at Chericoke flamed upon the hillside, as he remembered it on + winter evenings when the great chimney was filled with light and the crane + was in its place above the hickory. The smell of newly baked bread floated + in his nostrils, and for a little while he believed himself to be lying + again upon the hearth as he thrilled at Aunt Rhody's stories. Then his + fancies would take other shapes, and warm colours would glow in red and + yellow circles before his eyes. When he thought of Betty now it was no + longer tenderly but with a despairing passion. He was haunted less by her + visible image than by broken dreams of her peculiar womanly beauties—of + her soft hands and the warmth of her girlish bosom. + </p> + <p> + But from the first day to the last he had no thought of yielding; and each + feeble step had sent him a step farther upon the road. He had often + fallen, but he had always struggled up again and laughed. Once he made a + ghastly joke about his dying in the snow, and Jack Powell turned upon him + with an oath and bade him to be silent. + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake don't,” added the boy weakly, and fell to whimpering like + a child. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go home to your mother,” retorted Dan, with a kind of desperate + cruelty. + </p> + <p> + Jack sobbed outright. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could,” he answered, and dropped over upon the roadside. + </p> + <p> + Dan caught him up, and poured his last spoonful of brandy down his throat, + then he seized his arm and dragged him bodily along. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say don't be an ass,” he implored. “Here comes old Stonewall.” + </p> + <p> + The commanding General rode by, glanced quietly over them, and passed on, + his chest bowed, his cadet cap pulled down over his eyes. A moment later + Dan, looking over the hillside, at the winding road, saw him dismount and + put his shoulder to a sunken wheel. The sight suddenly nerved the younger + man, and he went on quickly, dragging Jack up with him. + </p> + <p> + That night they rested in a burned-out clearing where the pine trees had + been felled for fence rails. The rails went readily to fires, and Pinetop + fried strips of fat bacon in the skillet he had brought upon his musket. + Somebody produced a handful of coffee from his pocket, and a little later + Dan, dozing beside the flames, was awakened by the aroma. + </p> + <p> + “By George!” he burst out, and sat up speechless. + </p> + <p> + Pinetop was mixing thin cornmeal paste into the gravy, and he looked up as + he stirred busily with a small stick. + </p> + <p> + “Wall, I reckon these here slapjacks air about done,” he remarked in a + moment, adding with a glance at Dan, “and if your stomach's near as empty + as your eyes, I reckon your turn comes first.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon it does,” said Dan, and filling his tin cup, he drank scalding + coffee in short gulps. When he had finished it, he piled fresh rails upon + the fire and lay down to sleep with his feet against the embers. + </p> + <p> + With the earliest dawn a long shiver woke him, and as he put out his hand + it touched something wet and cold. The fire had died to a red heart, and a + thick blanket of snow covered him from head to foot. Straight above there + was a pale yellow light where the stars shone dimly after the storm. + </p> + <p> + He started to his feet, rubbing a handful of snow upon his face. The red + embers, sheltered by the body of a solitary pine, still glowed under the + charred brushwood, and kneeling upon the ground, he fanned them into a + feeble blaze. Then he laid the rails crosswise, protecting them with his + blanket until they caught and flamed up against the blackened pine. + </p> + <p> + Near by Jack Powell was moaning in his sleep, and Dan leaned over to shake + him into consciousness. “Oh, damn it all, wake up, you fool!” he said + roughly, but Jack rolled over like one drugged and broke into frightened + whimpers such as a child makes in the dark. He was dreaming of home, and + as Dan listened to the half-choked words, his face contracted sharply. + “Wake up, you fool!” he repeated angrily, rolling him back and forth + before the fire. + </p> + <p> + A little later, when Jack had grown warm beneath his touch, he threw a + blanket over him, and turned to lie down in his own place. As he tossed a + last armful on the fire, his eyes roamed over the long mounds of snow that + filled the clearing, and he caught his breath as a man might who had waked + suddenly among the dead. In the beginning of dawn, with the glimmer of + smouldering fires reddening the snow, there was something almost ghastly + in the sloping field filled with white graves and surrounded by white + mountains. Even the wintry sky borrowed, for an hour, the spectral aspect + of the earth, and the familiar shapes of cloud, as of hill, stood out with + all the majesty of uncovered laws—stripped of the mere frivolous + effect of light or shade. It was like the first day—or the last. + </p> + <p> + Dan, sitting watchful beside the fire, fell into the peculiar mental state + which comes only after an inward struggle that has laid bare the sinews of + one's life. He had fought the good fight to the end, and he knew that from + this day he should go easier with himself because he knew that he had + conquered. + </p> + <p> + The old doubt—the old distrust of his own strength—was fallen + from him. At the moment he could have gone to Betty, fearless and full of + hope, and have said, “Come, for I am grown up at last—at last I have + grown up to my love.” A great tenderness was in his heart, and the tears, + which had not risen for all the bodily suffering of the past two weeks, + came slowly to his eyes. The purpose of life seemed suddenly clear to him, + and the large patience of the sky passed into his own nature as he sat + facing the white dawn. At rare intervals in the lives of all strenuous + souls there comes this sense of kinship with external things—this + passionate recognition of the appeal of the dumb world. Sky and mountains + and the white sweep of the fields awoke in him the peculiar tenderness he + had always felt for animals or plants. His old childish petulance was gone + from him forever; in its place he was aware of a kindly tolerance which + softened even the common outlines of his daily life. It was as if he had + awakened breathlessly to find himself a man. + </p> + <p> + And Betty came to him again—not in detached visions, but entire and + womanly. When he remembered her as on that last night at Chericoke it was + with the impulse to fall down and kiss her feet. Reckless and blind with + anger as he had been, she would have come cheerfully with him wherever his + road led; and it was this passionate betrayal of herself that had taught + him the full measure of her love. An attempt to trifle, to waver, to + bargain with the future, he might have looked back upon with tender scorn; + but the gesture with which she had made her choice was as desperate as his + own mood—and it was for this one reckless moment that he loved her + best. + </p> + <p> + The east paled slowly as the day broke in a cloud, and the long shadows + beside the fire lost their reddish glimmer. A little bird, dazed by the + cold and the strange light, flew into the smoke against the stunted pine, + and fell, a wet ball of feathers at Dan's feet. He picked it up, warmed it + in his coat, and fed it from the loose crumbs in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + When Pinetop awoke he was gently stroking the bird while he sang in a low + voice:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Gay and happy, gay and happy, + We'll be gay and happy still.” + </pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. — “I WAIT MY TIME” + </h2> + <p> + When he returned to Winchester it was to find Virginia already there as + Jack Morson's wife. Since her marriage in late summer she had followed her + husband's regiment from place to place, drifting at last to a big yellow + house on the edge of the fiery little town. Dan, passing along the street + one day, heard his name called in a familiar voice, and turned to find her + looking at him through the network of a tall, wrought-iron gate. + </p> + <p> + “Virginia! Bless my soul! Where's Betty?” he exclaimed amazed. + </p> + <p> + Virginia left the gate and gave him her hand over the dried creepers on + the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you look ten years older,” was her response. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! Well, two years of beggary, to say nothing of eight months of + war, isn't just the thing to insure immortal youth, is it? You see, I'm + turning gray.” + </p> + <p> + The pallor of the long march was in his face, giving him a striking though + unnatural beauty. His eyes were heavy and his hair hung dishevelled about + his brow, but the change went deeper still, and the girl saw it. “You're + bigger—that's it,” she said, and added impulsively, “Oh, how I wish + Betty could see you now.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand was upon the wall and he gave it a quick, pleased pressure. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to heaven she could,” he echoed heartily. + </p> + <p> + “But I shall tell her everything when I write—everything. I shall + tell her that you are taller and stronger and that you have been in all + the fights and haven't a scar to show. Betty loves scars, you see, and she + doesn't mind even wounds—real wounds. She wanted to go into the + hospitals, but I came away and mamma wouldn't let her.” + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake, don't let her,” said Dan, with a shudder, his Southern + instincts recoiling from the thought of service for the woman he loved. + “There are a plenty of them in the hospitals and it's no place for Betty, + anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell her you think so,” returned Virginia, gayly. “I'll tell her + that—and what else?” + </p> + <p> + He met her eyes smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her I wait my time,” he answered, and began to talk lightly of other + things. Virginia followed his lead with her old shy merriment. Her + marriage had changed her but little, though she had grown a trifle + stately, he thought, and her coquetry had dropped from her like a veil. As + she stood there in her delicate lace cap and soft gray silk, the likeness + to her mother was very marked, and looking into the future, Dan seemed to + see her beauty ripen and expand with her growing womanhood. How many of + her race had there been, he wondered, shaped after the same pure and + formal plan. + </p> + <p> + “And it is all just the same,” he said, his eyes delighting in her beauty. + “There is no change—don't tell me there is any change, for I'll not + believe it. You bring it all back to me,—the lawn and the lilacs and + the white pillars, and Miss Lydia's garden, with the rose leaves in the + paths. Why are there always rose leaves in Miss Lydia's paths, Virginia?” + </p> + <p> + Virginia shook her head, puzzled by his whimsical tone. + </p> + <p> + “Because there are so many roses,” she answered seriously. + </p> + <p> + “No, you're wrong, there's another reason, but I shan't tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “My boxes are filled with rose leaves now,” said Virginia. “Betty gathered + them for me.” + </p> + <p> + The smile leaped to his eyes. “Oh, but it makes me homesick,” he returned + lightly. “If I tell you a secret, don't betray me, Virginia—I am + downright homesick for Betty.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia patted his hand. + </p> + <p> + “So am I,” she confessed, “and so is Mammy Riah—she's with me now, + you know—and she says that I might have been married without Jack, + but never without Betty. Betty made my dress and iced my cake and pinned + on my veil.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, is that so?” exclaimed Dan, absent-mindedly. He was thinking of + Betty, and he could almost see her hands as she pinned on the wedding veil—those + small white hands with the strong fingers that had closed about his own. + </p> + <p> + “When you get your furlough you must go home, Dan,” Virginia was saying; + “the Major is very feeble and—and he quarrels with almost everyone.” + </p> + <p> + “My furlough,” repeated Dan, with a laugh. “Why, the war may end to-morrow + and then we'll all go home together and kill the fatted calf among us. + Yes, I'd like to see the old man again before I die.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray every night that the war may end tomorrow,” said Virginia, “but it + never does.” Then she turned eagerly to the Governor, who was coming + toward them under the leafless trees along the street. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Dan, papa, do make him come in and be good.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor, holding himself erect in his trim gray uniform, insisted, + with his hand upon Dan's shoulder, that Virginia should be obeyed; and the + younger man, yielding easily, followed him through the iron gate and into + the yellow house. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see you every day, my boy, sit down, sit down,” began the + Governor, as he took his stand upon the hearth-rug. “Daughter, haven't you + learned the way to the pantry yet? Dan looks as if he'd been on starvation + rations since he joined the army. They aren't living high at Romney, eh?” + and then, as Virginia went out, he fell to discussing the questions on all + men's lips—the prospect of peace in the near future; hopes of + intervention from England; the attitude of other foreign powers; and the + reasons for the latest appointments by the President. When the girl came + in again they let such topics go, and talked of home while she poured the + coffee and helped Dan to fried chicken. She belonged to the order of women + who delight in feeding a hungry man, and her eyes did not leave his face + as she sat behind the tray and pressed the food upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Dan thinks the war will be over before he gets his furlough,” she said a + little wistfully. + </p> + <p> + A shadow crossed the Governor's face. + </p> + <p> + “Then I may hope to get back in time to watch the cradles in the wheat + field,” he remarked. “There's little doing on the farm I'm afraid while + I'm away.” + </p> + <p> + “If they hold out six months longer—well, I'll be surprised,” + exclaimed Dan, slapping the arm of his chair with a gesture like the + Major's. “They've found out we won't give in so long as there's a musket + left; and that's enough for them.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so, maybe so,” returned the Governor, for it was a part of his + philosophy to cast his conversational lines in the pleasant places. + “Please God, we'll drink our next Christmas glass at Chericoke.” + </p> + <p> + “In the panelled parlour,” added Dan, his eyes lighting. + </p> + <p> + “With Aunt Emmeline's portrait,” finished Virginia, smiling. + </p> + <p> + For a time they were all silent, each looking happily into the far-off + room, and each seeing a distinct and different vision. To the Governor the + peaceful hearth grew warm again—he saw his wife and children + gathered there, and a few friendly neighbours with their long-lived, + genial jokes upon their lips. To Virginia it was her own bridal over again + with the fear of war gone from her, and the quiet happiness she wanted + stretching out into the future. To Dan there was first his own honour to + be won, and then only Betty and himself—Betty and himself under next + year's mistletoe together. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” sighed the Governor, and came back regretfully to the + present. “It's a good place we're thinking of, and I reckon you're sorry + enough you left it before you were obliged to. We all make mistakes, my + boy, and the fortunate ones are those who live long enough to unmake + them.” + </p> + <p> + His warm smile shone out suddenly, and without waiting for a reply, he + began to ask for news of Jack Powell and his comrades, all of whom he knew + by name. “I was talking to Colonel Burwell about you the other day,” he + added presently, “and he gave you a fighting record that would do honour + to the Major.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a nice old chap,” responded Dan, easily, for in the first years of + the Army of Northern Virginia the question of rank presented itself only + upon the parade ground, and beyond the borders of the camp a private had + been known to condescend to his own Colonel. “A gentleman fights for his + country as he pleases, a plebeian as he must,” the Governor would have + explained with a touch of his old oratory. “He's a nice old chap himself, + but, by George, the discipline fits like a straight-jacket,” pursued Dan, + as he finished his coffee. “Why, here we are three miles below Winchester + in a few threadbare tents, and they make as much fuss about our coming + into town as if we were the Yankees themselves. Talk about Romney! Why, + it's no colder at Romney than it was here last week, and yet Loring's men + are living in huts like princes.” + </p> + <p> + “Show me a volunteer and I'll show you a grumbler,” put in the Governor, + laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm not grumbling, I'm merely pointing out the facts,” protested Dan; + then he rose and stood holding Virginia's hand as he met her upward glance + with his unflinching admiration. “Come again! Why, I should say so,” he + declared. “I'll come as long as I have a collar left, and then—well, + then I'll pass the time of day with you over the hedge. Good-by, Colonel, + remember I'm not a grumbler, I'm merely a man of facts.” + </p> + <p> + The door closed after him and a moment later they heard his clear whistle + in the street. + </p> + <p> + “The boy is like his father,” said the Governor, thoughtfully, “like his + father with the devil broken to harness. The Montjoy blood may be bad + blood, but it makes big men, daughter.” He sighed and drew his small + figure to its full height. + </p> + <p> + Virginia was looking into the fire. “I hope he will come again,” she + returned softly, thinking of Betty. + </p> + <p> + But when he called again a week later Virginia did not see him. It was a + cold starlit night, and the big yellow house, as he drew near it, glowed + like a lamp amid the leafless trees. Beside the porch a number of cavalry + horses were fastened to the pillars, and through the long windows there + came the sound of laughter and of gay “good-bys.” + </p> + <p> + The “fringe of the army,” as Dan had once jeeringly called it, was merrily + making ready for a raid. + </p> + <p> + As he listened he leaned nearer the window and watched, half enviously, + the men he had once known. His old life had been a part of theirs and now, + looking in from the outside, it seemed very far away—the poetry of + war beside which the other was mere dull history in which no names were + written. He thought of Prince Rupert, and of his own joy in the saddle, + and the longing for the raid seized him like a heartache. Oh, to feel + again the edge of the keen wind in his teeth and to hear the silver ring + of the hoofs on the frozen road. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Jine the cavalry, + Jine the cavalry, + If you want to have a good time jine the cavalry.” + </pre> + <p> + The words floated out to him, and he laughed aloud as if he had awakened + from a comic dream. + </p> + <p> + That was the romance of war, but, after all, he was only the man who bore + the musket. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. — THE ALTAR OF THE WAR GOD + </h2> + <p> + With the opening spring Virginia went down to Richmond, where Jack Morson + had taken rooms for her in the house of an invalid widow whose three sons + were at the front. The town was filled to overflowing with refugees from + the North and representatives from the South, and as the girl drove + through the crowded streets, she exclaimed wonderingly at the festive air + the houses wore. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the doors are all open,” she observed. “It looks like one big + family.” + </p> + <p> + “That's about what it is,” replied Jack. “The whole South is here and + there's not a room to be had for love or money. Food is getting dear, too, + they say, and the stranger within the gates has the best of everything.” + He stopped short and laughed from sheer surprise at Virginia's loveliness. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm glad I'm here, anyway,” said the girl, pressing his arm, “and + Mammy Riah's glad, too, though she won't confess it.—Aren't you just + delighted to see Jack again, Mammy?” + </p> + <p> + The old negress grunted in her corner of the carriage. “I ain' seed no use + in all dis yer fittin',” she responded. “W'at's de use er fittin' ef dar + ain' sumpen' ter fit fer dat you ain' got a'ready?” + </p> + <p> + “That's it, Mammy,” replied Jack, gayly, “we're fighting for freedom, and + we haven't had it yet, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Is dat ar freedom vittles?” scornfully retorted the old woman. “Is it + close? is it wood ter bu'n?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it will soon be here and you'll find out,” said Virginia, cheerfully, + and when a little later she settled herself in her pleasant rooms, she + returned to her assurances. + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you glad you're here, Mammy, aren't you glad?” she insisted, with + her arm about the old woman's neck. + </p> + <p> + “I'd des like ter git a good look at ole Miss agin,” returned Mammy Riah, + softening, “caze ef you en ole Miss ain' des like two peas in a pod, my + eyes hev done crack wid de sight er you. Dar ain' been nuttin' so pretty + es you sence de day I dressed ole Miss in 'er weddin' veil.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right,” exclaimed Jack, heartily. “But look at this, Virginia, + here's a regular corn field at the back. Mrs. Minor tells me that + vegetables have grown so scarce she has been obliged to turn her flower + beds into garden patches.” He threw open the window, and they went out + upon the wide piazza which hung above the young corn rows. + </p> + <p> + During the next few weeks, when Jack was often in the city, an almost + feverish gayety possessed the girl. In the war-time parties, where the + women wore last year's dresses, and the wit served for refreshment, her + gentle beauty became, for a little while, the fashion. The smooth bands of + her hair were copied, the curve of her eyelashes was made the subject of + some verses which <i>The Examiner</i> printed and the English papers + quoted later on. It was a bright and stately society that filled the + capital that year; and on pleasant Sundays when Virginia walked from + church, in her Leghorn bonnet and white ruffles flaring over crinoline as + they neared the ground, men, who had bled on fields of honour for the + famous beauties of the South, would drop their talk to follow her with + warming eyes. Cities might fall and battles might be lost and won, but + their joy in a beautiful woman would endure until a great age. + </p> + <p> + At last Jack Morson rode away to service, and the girl kept to the quiet + house and worked on the little garments which the child would need in the + summer. She was much alone, but the delicate widow, who had left her couch + to care for the sick and wounded soldiers, would sometimes come and sit + near her while she sewed. + </p> + <p> + “This is the happiest time—before the child comes,” she said one + day, and added, with the observant eye of mothers, “it will be a boy; + there is a pink lining to the basket.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it will be a boy,” replied Virginia, wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “I have had six,” pursued the woman, “six sons, and yet I am alone now. + Three are dead, and three are in the army. I am always listening for the + summons that means another grave.” She clasped her thin hands and smiled + the patient smile that chilled Virginia's blood. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't you have kept one back?” asked the girl in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + The woman shook her head. Much brooding had darkened her mind, but there + was a peculiar fervour in her face—an inward light that shone + through her faded eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Not one—not one,” she answered. “When the South called, I sent the + first two, and when they fell, I sent the others—only the youngest I + kept back at first—he is just seventeen. Then another call came and + he begged so hard I let him go. No, I gave them all gladly—I have + kept none back.” + </p> + <p> + She lowered her eyes and sat smiling at her folded hands. Weakened in body + and broken by many sorrows as she was, with few years before her and those + filled with inevitable suffering, the fire of the South still burned in + her veins, and she gave herself as ardently as she gave her sons. The pity + of it touched Virginia suddenly, and in the midst of her own enthusiasm + she felt the tears upon her lashes. Was not an army invincible, she asked, + into which the women sent their dearest with a smile? + </p> + <p> + Through the warm spring weather she sat beside the long window that gave + on the street, or walked slowly up and down among the vegetable rows in + the garden. The growing of the crops became an unending interest to her + and she watched them, day by day, until she learned to know each separate + plant and to look for its unfolding. When the drought came she carried + water from the hydrant, and assisted by Mammy Riah sprinkled the young + tomatoes until they shot up like weeds. “It is so much better than war,” + she would say to Jack when he rode through the city. “Why will men kill + one another when they might make things live instead?” + </p> + <p> + Beside the piazza, there was a high magnolia tree, and under this she made + a little rustic bench and a bed of flowers. When the hollyhocks and the + sunflowers bloomed it would look like Uplands, she said, laughing. + </p> + <p> + Under the magnolia there was quiet, but from her front window, while she + sat at work, she could see the whole overcrowded city passing through sun + and shadow. Sometimes distinguished strangers would go by, men from the + far South in black broadcloth and slouch hats; then the President, slim + and erect and very grave, riding his favourite horse to one of the + encampments near the city; and then a noted beauty from another state, her + chin lifted above the ribbons of her bonnet, a smile tucked in the red + corners of her lips. Following there would surge by the same eager, + staring throng—men too old to fight who had lost their work; women + whose husbands fought in the trenches for the money that would hardly buy + a sack of flour; soldiers from one of the many camps; noisy little boys + with tin whistles; silent little girls waving Confederate flags. Back and + forth they passed on the bright May afternoons, filling the street with a + ceaseless murmur and the blur of many colours. + </p> + <p> + And again the crowd would part suddenly to make way for a battalion + marching to the front, or for a single soldier riding, with muffled drums, + to his grave in Hollywood. The quick step or the slow gait of the + riderless horse; the wild cheers or the silence on the pavement; the + “Bonnie Blue Flag” or the funeral dirge before the coffin; the eager faces + of men walking to where death was or the fallen ones of those who came + back with the dead; the bold flags taking the wind like sails or the + banners furled with crepe as they drooped forward—there was not a + day when these things did not go by near together. To Virginia, sitting at + her window, it was as if life and death walked on within each other's + shadow. + </p> + <p> + Then came the terrible days when the city saw McClellan sweeping toward it + from the Chickahominy, when senators and clergymen gathered with the + slaves to raise the breastworks, and men turned blankly to ask one another + “Where is the army?” With the girl the question meant only mystification; + she felt none of the white terror that showed in the faces round her. + There was in her heart an unquestioning, childlike trust in the God of + battles—sooner or later he would declare for the Confederacy and + until then—well, there was always General Lee to stand between. Her + chief regret was that the lines had closed and her mother could not come + to her as she had promised. + </p> + <p> + In the intense heat that hung above the town she sat at her southern + window, where the river breeze blew across the garden, and watched + placidly the palm-leaf fan which Mammy Riah waved before her face. The + magnolia tree had flowered in great white blossoms, and the heavy perfume + mingled in Virginia's thoughts with the yellow sunshine, the fretful + clamour, and the hot dust of the city. When at the end of May a rain storm + burst overhead and sent the wide white petals to the earth, it was almost + a relief to see them go. But by the morrow new ones had opened, and the + perfume she had sickened of still floated from the garden. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon the sound of the guns rolled up the Williamsburg road, and + in the streets men shouted hoarsely of an engagement with the enemy at + Seven Pines. With the noise Virginia thrilled to her first feeling of + danger, starting from a repose which, in its unconsciousness, had been as + profound as sleep. The horror of war rushed in upon her at the moment, and + with a cry she leaned out into the street, and listened for the next roll + of the cannon. + </p> + <p> + A woman, with a scared face, looked up, saw her, and spoke hysterically. + </p> + <p> + “There's not a man left in the city,” she cried. “They've taken my father + to defend the breastworks and he's near seventy. If you can sew or wash or + cook, there'll be work enough for you, God knows, to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + She hurried on and Virginia, turning from the window, buried herself in + the pillows upon the bed, trying in vain to shut out the noise of the + cannonading and the perfume of the magnolia blossoms which came in on the + southern breeze. With night the guns grew silent and the streets empty, + but still the girl lay sleepless, watching with frightened eyes the shadow + of Mammy Riah's palm-leaf fan. + </p> + <p> + At dawn the restless murmur began again, and Virginia, looking out in the + hot sunrise, saw the crowd hastening back to the hospitals lower down. + They were all there, all as they had been the day before—old men + limping out for news or returning beside the wounded; women with trembling + lips and arms filled with linen; ambulances passing the corner at a walk, + surrounded by men who had staggered after them because there was no room + left inside; and following always the same curious, pallid throng, fresh + upon the scent of some new tragedy. Presently the ambulances gave out, and + yet the wounded came—some walking, and moaning as they walked, some + borne on litters by devoted servants, some drawn in market wagons pressed + into use. The great warehouses and the churches were thrown open to give + them shelter, but still they came and still the cry went up, “Room, more + room!” + </p> + <p> + Virginia watched it all, leaning out to follow the wagons as they passed + the corner. The sight sickened her, but something that was half a ghastly + fascination, and half the terror of missing a face she knew, kept her hour + after hour motionless upon her knees. At each roll of the guns she gave a + nervous shiver and grew still as stone. + </p> + <p> + Then, as she knelt there, a man, in clerical dress, came down the pavement + and stopped before her window. “I hope your husband's wound was not + serious, Mrs. Morson,” he said sympathetically. “If I can be of any + assistance, please don't hesitate to call on me.” + </p> + <p> + “Jack wounded!—oh, he is not wounded,” replied Virginia. She rose + and stood wildly looking down upon him. + </p> + <p> + He saw his mistake and promptly retracted what he could. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't know of it, it can't be true,” he urged kindly. “So many + rumours are afloat that half of them are without foundation. However, I + will make inquiries if you wish,” and he passed on with a promise to + return at once. + </p> + <p> + For a time Virginia stood blankly gazing after him; then she turned + steadily and took down her bonnet from the wardrobe. She even went to the + bureau and carefully tied the pink ribbon strings beneath her chin. + </p> + <p> + “I am going out, Mammy Riah,” she said when she had finished. “No, don't + tell me I mustn't—I am going out, I say.” + </p> + <p> + She stamped her foot impatiently, but Mammy Riah made no protest. + </p> + <p> + “Des let's go den,” she returned, smoothing her head handkerchief as she + prepared to follow. + </p> + <p> + The sun was already high above, and the breeze, which had blown for three + days from the river, had dropped suddenly since dawn. Down the brick + pavement the relentless glare flashed back into the sky which hung hot + blue overhead. To Virginia, coming from the shade of her rooms, the city + seemed a furnace and the steady murmur a great discord in which every note + was one of pain. + </p> + <p> + Other women looking for their wounded hurried by her—one stopped to + ask if she had been into the unused tobacco warehouse and if she had seen + there a boy she knew by name? Another, with lint bandages in her hand, + begged her to come into a church hard by and assist in ravelling linen for + the surgeons. Then she looked down, saw the girl's figure, and grew + nervous. “You are not fit, my dear, go home,” she urged, but Virginia + shook her head and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I am looking for my husband,” she answered in a cold voice and passed on. + Mammy Riah caught up with her, but she broke away. “Go home if you want to—oh, + go back,” she cried irritably. “I am looking for Jack, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Into the rude hospitals, one after one, she went without shuddering, + passing up and down between the ghastly rows lying half clothed upon the + bare plank floors. Her eyes were strained and eager, and more than one + dying man turned to look after her as she went by, and carried the memory + of her face with him to death. Once she stopped and folded a blanket under + the head of a boy who moaned aloud, and then gave him water from a pitcher + close at hand. “You're so cool—so cool,” he sobbed, clutching at her + dress, but she smiled like one asleep and passed on rapidly. + </p> + <p> + When the long day had worn out at last, she came from an open store filled + with stretchers, and started homeward over the burning pavement. Her + search was useless, and the reaction from her terrible fear left her with + a sudden tremor in her heart. As she walked she leaned heavily upon Mammy + Riah, and her colour came and went in quick flashes. The heat had entered + into her brain and with it the memory of open wounds and the red hands of + surgeons. Reaching the house at last, she flung herself all dressed upon + the bed and fell into a sleep that was filled with changing dreams. + </p> + <p> + At midnight she cried out in agony, believing herself to be still in the + street. When Mammy Riah bent over her she did not know her, but held out + shaking hands and asked for her mother, calling the name aloud in the + silent house, deserted for the sake of the hospitals lower down. She was + walking again on and on over the hot bricks, and the deep wounds were + opening before her eyes while the surgeons went by with dripping hands. + Once she started up and cried out that the terrible blue sky was crushing + her down to the pavement which burned her feet. Then the odour of the + magnolia filled her nostrils, and she talked of the scorching dust, of the + noise that would not stop, and of the feeble breeze that blew toward her + from the river. All night she wandered back and forth in the broad glare + of the noon, and all night Mammy Riah passed from the clinging hands to + the window where she looked for help in the empty street. And then, as the + gray dawn broke, Virginia put her simple services by, and spoke in a clear + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how lovely,” she said, as if well pleased. A moment more and she lay + smiling like a child, her chin pressed deep in her open palm. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + In the full sunrise a physician, who had run in at the old woman's cry, + came from the house and stopped bareheaded in the breathless heat. For a + moment he stared over the moving city and then up into the cloudless blue + of the sky. + </p> + <p> + “God damn war!” he said suddenly, and went back to his knife. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. — THE MONTJOY BLOOD AGAIN + </h2> + <p> + A month later Dan heard of Virginia's death when, at the end of the Seven + Days, he was brought wounded into Richmond. As he lay upon church cushions + on the floor of an old warehouse on Main Street, with Big Abel shaking a + tattered palm-leaf fan at his side, a cavalryman came up to him and held + out a hand that trembled slightly from fatigue. + </p> + <p> + “I heard you were here. Can I do anything for you, Beau?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + For an instant Dan hesitated; then the other smiled, and he recognized + Jack Morson. + </p> + <p> + “My God! You've been ill!” he exclaimed in horror. Jack laughed and let + his hand fall. The boyish colour was gone from his face, and he wore an + untrimmed beard which made him look twice his age. + </p> + <p> + “Never better in my life,” he answered shortly. “Some men are made of + india-rubber, Montjoy, and I'm one of them. I've managed to get into most + of these blessed fights about Richmond, and yet I haven't so much as a pin + prick to show for it. But what's wrong with you? Not much, I hope. I've + just seen Bland, and he told me he thought you were left at Malvern Hill + during that hard rain on Tuesday night. How did you get knocked over, + anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “A rifle ball went through my leg,” replied Dan impatiently. “I say, Big + Abel, can't you flirt that fan a little faster? These confounded flies + stick like molasses.” Then he held up his left hand and looked at it with + a grim smile. “A nasty fragment of a shell took off a couple of my + fingers,” he added. “At first I thought they had begun throwing hornets' + nests from their guns—it felt just like it. Yes, that's the worst + with me so far; I've still got a bone to my leg, and I'll be on the field + again before long, thank God.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the worst thing about getting wounded is being stuffed into a hole + like this,” returned Jack, glancing about contemptuously. “Whoever has had + the charge of our hospital arrangements may congratulate himself that he + has made a ghastly mess of them. Why, I found a man over there in the + corner whose leg had mortified from sheer neglect, and he told me that the + supplies for the sick had given out, and they'd offered him cornbread and + bacon for breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + Dan began to toss restlessly, grumbling beneath his breath. “If you ever + see a ball making in your direction,” he advised, “dodge it clean or take + it square in the mouth; don't go in for any compromises with a gun, they + aren't worth it.” He lay silent for a moment, and then spoke proudly. “Big + Abel hauled me off the field after I went down. How he found me, God only + knows, but find me he did, and under fire, too.” + </p> + <p> + “'Twuz des like pepper,” remarked Big Abel, fanning briskly, “but soon es + I heah dat Marse Dan wuz right flat on de groun', I know dat dar warn' + nobody ter go atter 'im 'cep'n' me. Marse Bland he come crawlin' out er de + bresh, wuckin' 'long on his stomick same es er mole, wid his face like a + rabbit w'en de dawgs are 'mos' upon 'im, en he sez hard es flint, 'Beau + he's down over yonder, en I tried ter pull 'im out, Big Abel, 'fo' de Lawd + I did!' Den he drap right ter de yerth, en I des stop long enough ter put + a tin bucket on my haid 'fo' I began ter crawl atter Marse Dan. Whew! dat + ar bucket hit sutney wuz a he'p, dat 'twuz, case I des hyeard de cawn + a-poppin' all aroun' hit, en dey ain' never come thoo yit. + </p> + <p> + “Well, suh, w'en I h'ist dat bucket ter git a good look out dar dey wuz + a-fittin' twel dey bus', a-dodgin' in en out er de shucks er wheat dat dey + done pile 'mos' up ter de haids. I ain' teck but one good look, suh, den I + drap de bucket down agin en keep a-crawlin' like Marse Bland tole me twel + I git 'mos' ter de cawn fiel' dat run right spang up de hill whar de big + guns wuz a-spittin' fire en smoke. En sho' 'nough dar wuz Marse Dan lyin' + unner a pine log dat Marse Bland hed roll up ter 'im ter keep de Yankees + f'om hittin' 'im; en w'en he ketch sight er me he des blink his eyes fur a + minute en laugh right peart. + </p> + <p> + “'Wat dat you got on yo' haid, Big Abel?' he sez.” + </p> + <p> + “Big Abel's a hero, there's no mistake,” put in Dan, delighted. “Do you + know he lifted me as if I were a baby and toted me out of that + God-forsaken corn field in the hottest fire I ever felt—and I tipped + the scales at a hundred and fifty pounds before I went to Romney.” + </p> + <p> + “Go way, Marse Dan, you ain' nuttin' but a rail,” protested Big Abel, and + continued his story. “Atter I done tote him outer de cawn fiel' en thoo de + bresh, den I begin ter peer roun' fer one er dese yer ambushes, but dere + warn' nairy one un um dat warn' a-bulgin' a'ready. I d'clar dey des bulged + twel dey sides 'mos' split. I seed a hack drive long by wid two gemmen + a-settin' up in hit, en one un em des es well es I is,—but w'en I + helt Marse Dan up right high, he shake his haid en pint ter de udder like + he kinder skeered. 'Dis yer's my young brudder,' he sez, speakin' sof'; + 'en dis yer's my young Marster,' I holler back, but he shake his haid agin + en drive right on. Lawd, Lawd, my time's 'mos' up, I 'low den—yes, + suh, I do—but w'en I tu'n roun' squintin' my eyes caze de sun so hot—de + sun he wuz kinder shinin' thoo his back like he do w'en he hu't yo' eyes + en you cyan' see 'im—dar came a dump cyart a-joltin' up de road wid + a speckled mule hitch ter it. A lot er yuther w'ite folks made a bee line + fer dat ar dump cyart, but dey warn' 'fo' me, caze w'en dey git dar, dar I + wuz a-settin' wid Marse Dan laid out across my knees. Well, dey lemme go—dey + bleeged ter caze I 'uz gwine anyway—en de speckled mule she des laid + back 'er years en let fly fer Richmon'. Yes, suh, I ain' never seed sech a + mule es dat. She 'uz des es full er sperit es a colt, en her name wuz + Sally.” + </p> + <p> + “The worst of it was after getting here,” finished Dan, who had lain + regarding Big Abel with a proud paternal eye, “they kept us trundling + round in that cart for three mortal hours, because they couldn't find a + hole to put us into. An uncovered wagon was just in front of us, filled + with poor fellows who had been half the day in the sweltering heat, and we + made the procession up and down the city, until at last some women rushed + up with their servants and cleared out this warehouse. One was not over + sixteen and as pretty as a picture. 'Don't talk to me about the proper + authorities,' she said, stamping her foot, 'I'll hang the proper + authorities when they turn up—and in the meantime we'll go to work!' + By Jove, she was a trump, that girl! If she didn't save my life, she did + still better and saved my leg.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll try to get you moved by to-morrow,” said Jack reassuringly. + “Every home in the city is filled with the wounded, they tell me, but I + know a little woman who had two funerals from her house to-day, so she may + be able to find room for you. This heat is something awful, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Damnable. I hope, by the way, that Virginia is out of it by now.” + </p> + <p> + Jack flinched as if the words struck him between the eyes. For a moment he + stood staring at the straw pallets along the wall; then he spoke in a + queer voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Virginia's out of it by now; Virginia's dead, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” cried Dan, and raised himself upon his cushion. The room went + black before him, and he steadied himself by clutching at Big Abel's arm. + At the instant the horrors of the battle-field, where he had seen men fall + like grass before the scythe, became as nothing to the death of this one + young girl. He thought of her living beauty, of the bright glow of her + flesh, and it seemed to him that the earth could not hide a thing so fair. + </p> + <p> + “I left her in Richmond in the spring,” explained Jack, gripping himself + hard. “I was off with Stuart, you know, and I thought her mother would get + to her, but she couldn't pass the lines and then the fight came—the + one at Seven Pines and—well, she died and the child with her.” + </p> + <p> + Dan's eyes grew very tender; a look crept into them which only Betty and + his mother had seen there before. + </p> + <p> + “I would have died for her if I could, Jack, you know that,” he said + slowly. + </p> + <p> + Jack walked off a few paces and then came back again. “I remember the + Governor's telling me once,” he went on in the same hard voice, “that if a + man only rode boldly enough at death it would always get out of the way. I + didn't believe it at the time, but, by God, it's true. Why, I've gone + straight into the enemy's lines and heard the bullets whistling in my + ears, but I've always come out whole. When I rode with Stuart round + McClellan's army, I was side by side with poor Latane when he fell in the + skirmish at Old Church, and I sat stock still on my horse and waited for a + fellow to club me with his sabre, but he wouldn't; he looked at me as if + he thought I had gone crazy, and actually shook his head. Some men can't + die, confound it, and I'm one of them.” + </p> + <p> + He went out, his spurs striking the stone steps as he passed into the + street, and Dan fell back upon the narrow cushions to toss with fever and + the memory of Virginia—of Virginia in the days when she wore her + rose-pink gown and he believed he loved her. + </p> + <p> + At the door an ambulance drew up and a stretcher was brought into the + building, and let down in one corner. The man on it was lying very still, + and when he was lifted off and placed upon the blood-soaked top of the + long pine table, he made no sound, either of fear or of pain. The close + odours of the place suddenly sickened Dan and he asked Big Abel to draw + him nearer the open window, where he might catch the least breeze from the + river; but outside the July sunlight lay white and hot upon the bricks, + and when he struggled up the reflected heat struck him down again. On the + sidewalk he saw several prisoners going by amid a hooting crowd, and with + his old instinct to fight upon the weaker side, he hurled an oath at the + tormenters of his enemies. + </p> + <p> + “Go to the field, you crows, and be damned!” he called. + </p> + <p> + One of the prisoners, a ruddy-cheeked young fellow in private's clothes, + looked up and touched his cap. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir, I hope we'll meet at the front,” he said, in a rich Irish + brogue. Then he passed on to Libby prison, while Dan turned from the + window and lay watching the surgeon's faces as they probed for bullets. + </p> + <p> + It was a long unceiled building, filled with bright daylight and the + buzzing of countless flies. Women, who had volunteered for the service, + passed swiftly over the creaking boards, or knelt beside the pallets as + they bathed the shattered limbs with steady fingers. Here and there a + child held a glass of water to a man who could not raise himself, or sat + fanning the flies from a pallid face. None was too old nor too young where + there was work for all. + </p> + <p> + A stir passed through the group about the long pine table, and one of the + surgeons, wiping the sweat from his brow, came over to where Dan lay, and + stopped to take breath beside the window. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, that man died game,” he said, shaking his handkerchief at the + flies. “We took both his legs off at the knee, and he just gripped the + table hard and never winked an eyelash. I told him it would kill him, but + he said he'd be hanged if he didn't take his chance—and he took it + and died. Talk to me about nerve, that fellow had the cleanest grit I ever + saw.” + </p> + <p> + Dan's pulses fluttered, as they always did at an example of pure pluck. + </p> + <p> + “What's his regiment?” he asked, watching the two slaves who, followed by + their mistresses, were bringing the body back to the stretcher. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he was a scout, I believe, serving with Stuart when he was wounded. + His name is—by the way, his name is Montjoy. Any relative of yours, + I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + Raising himself upon his elbow, Dan turned to look at the dead man beside + him. A heavy beard covered the mouth and chin, but he knew the sunken + black eyes and the hair that was like his own. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered after a long pause, “he is a relative of mine, I + think;” and then, while the man lay waiting for his coffin, he propped + himself upon his arm and followed curiously the changes made by death. + </p> + <p> + At his first recognition there had come only a wave of repulsion—the + old disgust that had always dogged the memory of his father; then, with + the dead face before his eyes, he was aware of an unreasoning pride in the + blood he bore—in the fact that the soldier there had died pure game + to the last. It was as a braggart and a bully that he had always thought + of him; now he knew that at least he was not a craven—that he could + take blows as he dealt them, from the shoulder out. He had hated his + father, he told himself unflinchingly, and he did not love him now. Had + the dead man opened his eyes he could have struck him back again with his + mother's memory for a weapon. There had been war between them to the + grave, and yet, despite himself, he knew that he had lost his old boyish + shame of the Montjoy blood. With the instinct of his race to glorify + physical courage, he had seen the shadow of his boyhood loom from the + petty into the gigantic. Jack Montjoy may have been a scoundrel,—doubtless + he was one,—but, with all his misdeeds on his shoulders, he had + lived pure game to the end. + </p> + <p> + A fresh bleeding of Dan's wound brought on a sudden faintness, and he fell + heavily upon Big Abel's arm. With the pain a groan hovered an instant on + his lips, but, closing his eyes, he bit it back and lay silent. For the + first time in his life there had come to him, like an impulse, the + knowledge that he must not lower his father's name. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK FOURTH — THE RETURN OF THE VANQUISHED + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. — THE RAGGED ARMY + </h2> + <p> + The brigade had halted to gather rations in a corn field beside the road, + and Dan, lying with his head in the shadow of a clump of sumach, hungrily + regarded the “roasting ears” which Pinetop had just rolled in the ashes. A + malarial fever, which he had contracted in the swamps of the Chickahominy, + had wasted his vitality until he had begun to look like the mere shadow of + himself; gaunt, unwashed, hollow-eyed, yet wearing his torn gray jacket + and brimless cap as jauntily as he had once worn his embroidered + waistcoats. His hand trembled as he reached out for his share of the green + corn, but weakened as he was by sickness and starvation, the defiant + humour shone all the clearer in his eyes. He had still the heart for a + whistle, Bland had said last night, looking at him a little wistfully. + </p> + <p> + As he lay there, with the dusty sumach shrub above him, he saw the ragged + army pushing on into the turnpike that led to Maryland. Lean, + sun-scorched, half-clothed, dropping its stragglers like leaves upon the + roadside, marching in borrowed rags, and fighting with the weapons of its + enemies, dirty, fevered, choking with the hot dust of the turnpike—it + still pressed onward, bending like a blade beneath Lee's hand. For this + army of the sick, fighting slow agues, old wounds, and the sharp diseases + that follow on green food, was becoming suddenly an army of invasion. The + road led into Maryland, and the brigades swept into it, jesting like + schoolboys on a frolic. + </p> + <p> + Dan, stretched exhausted beside the road, ate his ear of corn, and idly + watched the regiment that was marching by—marching, not with the + even tread of regular troops, but with scattered ranks and broken column, + each man limping in worn-out shoes, at his own pace. They were not fancy + soldiers, these men, he felt as he looked after them. They were not + imposing upon the road, but when their chance came to fight, they would be + very sure to take it. Here and there a man still carried his old squirrel + musket, with a rusted skillet handle stuck into the barrel, but when + before many days the skillet would be withdrawn, the load might be relied + upon to wing straight home a little later. On wet nights those muskets + would stand upright upon their bayonets, with muzzles in the earth, while + the rain dripped off, and on dry days they would carry aloft the full + property of the mess, which had dwindled to a frying pan and an old quart + cup; though seldom cleaned, they were always fit for service—or if + they went foul what was easier than to pick up a less trusty one upon the + field. On the other side hung the blankets, tied at the ends and worn like + a sling from the left shoulder. The haversack was gone and with it the + knapsack and the overcoat. When a man wanted a change of linen he knelt + down and washed his single shirt in the brook, sitting in the sun while it + dried upon the bank. If it was long in drying he put it on, wet as it was, + and ran ahead to fall in with his company. Where the discipline was easy, + each infantryman might become his own commissary. + </p> + <p> + Dan finished his corn, threw the husks over his head, and sat up, looking + idly at the irregular ranks. He was tired and sick, and after a short rest + it seemed all the harder to get up and take the road again. As he sat + there he began to bandy words with the sergeant of a Maryland regiment + that was passing. + </p> + <p> + “Hello! what brigade?” called the sergeant in friendly tones. He looked + fat and well fed, and Dan felt this to be good ground for resentment. + </p> + <p> + “General Straggler's brigade, but it's none of your business,” he promptly + retorted. + </p> + <p> + “General Straggler has a pretty God-forsaken crew,” taunted the sergeant, + looking back as he stepped on briskly. “I've seen his regiments lining the + road clear up from Chantilly.” + </p> + <p> + “If you'd kept your fat eyes open at Manassas the other day, you'd have + seen them lining the battle-field as well,” pursued Dan pleasantly, + chewing a long green blade of corn. “Old Stonewall saw them, I'll be + bound. If General Straggler didn't win that battle I'd like to know who + did.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shucks!” responded the sergeant, and was out of hearing. + </p> + <p> + The regiment passed by and another took its place. “Was that General Lee + you were yelling at down there, boys?” inquired Dan politely, smiling the + smile of a man who sits by the roadside and sees another sweating on the + march. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, that warn't Marse Robert,” replied a private, limping with bare feet + over the border of dried grass. “'Twas a blamed, blank, bottomless well, + that's what 'twas. I let my canteen down on a string and it never came + back no mo'.” + </p> + <p> + Dan lowered his eyes, and critically regarded the tattered banner of the + regiment, covered with the names of the battles over which it had hung + unfurled. “Tennessee, aren't you?” he asked, following the flag. + </p> + <p> + The private shook his head, and stooped to remove a pebble from between + his toes. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, we ain't from Tennessee,” he drawled. “We've had the measles—that's + what's the matter with us.” + </p> + <p> + “You show it, by Jove,” said Dan, laughing. “Step quickly, if you please—this + is the cleanest brigade in the army.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” exclaimed the private, eying them with contempt. “You look like it, + don't you, sonny? Why, I'd ketch the mumps jest to look at sech a set o' + rag-a-muffins!” + </p> + <p> + He went on, still grunting, while Dan rose to his feet and slung his + blanket from his shoulder. “Look here, does anybody know where we're going + anyway?” he asked of the blue sky. + </p> + <p> + “I seed General Jackson about two miles up,” replied a passing countryman, + who had led his horse into the corn field. “Whoopee! he was going at a + God-a'mighty pace, I tell you. If he keeps that up he'll be over the + Potomac before sunset.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we are going into Maryland!” cried Jack Powell, jumping to his feet. + “Hurrah for Maryland! We're going to Maryland, God bless her!” + </p> + <p> + The shouts passed down the road and the Maryland regiment in front sent + back three rousing cheers. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, I hope I'll find some shoes there,” said Dan, shaking the sand + from his ragged boots, and twisting the shreds of his stockings about his + feet. “I've had to punch holes in my soles and lace them with shoe strings + to the upper leather, or they'd have dropped off long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll begin by making love to a seamstress when I'm over the + Potomac,” remarked Welch, getting upon his feet. “I'm decidedly in need of + a couple of patches.” + </p> + <p> + “You make love! You!” roared Jack Powell. “Why, you're the kind of thing + they set up in Maryland to keep the crows away. Now if it were Beau, + there, I see some sense in it—for, I'll be bound, he's slain more + hearts than Yankees in this campaign. The women always drain out their + last drop of buttermilk when he goes on a forage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't set up to be a popinjay,” retorted Welch witheringly. + </p> + <p> + “Popinjay, the devil!” scowled Dan, “who's a popinjay?” + </p> + <p> + “Wall, I'd like a pair of good stout breeches,” peacefully interposed + Pinetop. “I've been backin' up agin the fence when I seed a lady comin' + for the last three weeks, an' whenever I set down, I'm plum feared to git + up agin. What with all the other things,—the Yankees, and the + chills, and the measles,—it's downright hard on a man to have to be + a-feared of his own breeches.” + </p> + <p> + Dan looked round with sympathy. “That's true; it's a shame,” he admitted + smiling. “Look here, boys, has anybody got an extra pair of breeches?” + </p> + <p> + A howl of derision went up from the regiment as it fell into ranks. + </p> + <p> + “Has anybody got a few grape-leaves to spare?” it demanded in a high + chorus. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up,” responded Dan promptly. “Come on, Pinetop, we'll clothe + ourselves to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The brigade formed and swung off rapidly along the road, where the dust + lay like gauze upon the sunshine. At the end of a mile somebody stopped + and cried out excitedly. “Look here, boys, the persimmons on that tree + over thar are gittin' 'mos fit to eat. I can see 'em turnin',” and with + the words the column scattered like chaff across the field. But the first + man to reach the tree came back with a wry face, and fell to swearing at + “the darn fool who could eat persimmons before frost.” + </p> + <p> + “Thar's a tree in my yard that gits ripe about September,” remarked + Pinetop, as he returned dejectedly across the waste. “Ma she begins to dry + 'em 'fo' the frost sets in.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, we'll get a square meal in the morning,” responded Dan, growing + cheerful as he dreamed of hospitable Maryland. + </p> + <p> + Some hours later, in the warm dusk, they went into bivouac among the + trees, and, in a little while, the campfires made a red glow upon the + twilight. + </p> + <p> + Pinetop, with a wooden bucket on his arm, had plunged off in search of + water, and Dan and Jack Powell were sent, in the interests of the mess, to + forage through the surrounding country. + </p> + <p> + “There's a fat farmer about ten miles down, I saw him,” remarked a lazy + smoker, by way of polite suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “Ten miles? Well, of all the confounded impudence,” retorted Jack, as he + strolled off with Dan into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + For a time they walked in silence, depressed by hunger and the exhaustion + of the march; then Dan broke into a whistle, and presently they found + themselves walking in step with the merry air. + </p> + <p> + “Where are your thoughts, Beau?” asked Jack suddenly, turning to look at + him by the faint starlight. + </p> + <p> + Dan's whistle stopped abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “On a dish of fried chicken and a pot of coffee,” he replied at once. + </p> + <p> + “What's become of the waffles?” demanded Jack indignantly. “I say, old + man, do you remember the sinful waste on those blessed Christmas Eves at + Chericoke? I've been trying to count the different kinds of meat—roast + beef, roast pig, roast goose, roast turkey—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I was just thinking that if I ever reach home alive I'll deliver + the Major a lecture on his extravagance.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't the Major; it's grandma,” groaned Dan. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that queen among women!” exclaimed Jack fervently; “but the wines are + the Major's, I reckon,—it seems to me I recall some port of which he + was vastly proud.” + </p> + <p> + Dan delivered a blow that sent Jack on his knees in the stubble of an old + corn field. + </p> + <p> + “If you want to make me eat you, you're going straight about it,” he + declared. + </p> + <p> + “Look out!” cried Jack, struggling to his feet, “there's a light over + there among the trees,” and they walked on briskly up a narrow country + lane which led, after several turnings, to a large frame house well hidden + from the road. + </p> + <p> + In the doorway a woman was standing, with a lamp held above her head, and + when she saw them she gave a little breathless call. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Jim?” + </p> + <p> + Dan went up the steps and stood, cap in hand, before her. The lamplight + was full upon his ragged clothes and upon his pallid face with its strong + high-bred lines of mouth and chin. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were my husband,” said the woman, blushing at her mistake. + “If you want food you are welcome to the little that I have—it is + very little.” She led the way into the house, and motioned, with a + pitiable gesture, to a table that was spread in the centre of the sitting + room. + </p> + <p> + “Will you sit down?” she asked, and at the words, a child in the corner of + the room set up a frightened cry. + </p> + <p> + “It's my supper—I want my supper,” wailed the child. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, dear,” said the woman, “they are our soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + “Our soldiers,” repeated the child, staring, with its thumb in its mouth + and the tear-drops on its cheeks. + </p> + <p> + For an instant Dan looked at them as they stood there, the woman holding + the child in her arms, and biting her thin lips from which hunger had + drained all the red. There was scant food on the table, and as his gaze + went back to it, it seemed to him that, for the first time, he grasped the + full meaning of a war for the people of the soil. This was the real thing—not + the waving banners, not the bayonets, not the fighting in the ranks. + </p> + <p> + His eyes were on the woman, and she smiled as all women did upon whom he + looked in kindness. + </p> + <p> + “My dear madam, you have mistaken our purpose—we are not as hungry + as we look,” he said, bowing in his ragged jacket. “We were sent merely to + ask you if you were in need of a guard for your smokehouse. My Colonel + hopes that you have not suffered at our hands.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing left,” replied the woman mystified, yet relieved. “There + is nothing to guard except the children and myself, and we are safe, I + think. Your Colonel is very kind—I thank him;” and as they went out + she lighted them with her lamp from the front steps. + </p> + <p> + An hour later they returned to camp with aching limbs and empty hands. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing above ground,” they reported, flinging themselves beside + the fire, though the night was warm. “We've scoured the whole country and + the Federals have licked it as clean as a plate before us. Bless my soul! + what's that I smell? Is this heaven, boys?” + </p> + <p> + “Licked it clean, have they?” jeered the mess. “Well, they left a sheep + anyhow loose somewhere. Beau's darky hadn't gone a hundred yards before he + found one.” + </p> + <p> + “Big Abel? You don't say so?” whistled Dan, in astonishment, regarding the + mutton suspended on ramrods above the coals. + </p> + <p> + “Well, suh, 'twuz des like dis,” explained Big Abel, poking the roast with + a small stick. “I know I ain' got a bit a bus'ness ter shoot dat ar sheep + wid my ole gun, but de sheep she ain' got no better bus'ness strayin' + roun' loose needer. She sutney wuz a dang'ous sheep, dat she wuz. I 'uz + des a-bleeged ter put a bullet in her haid er she'd er hed my blood sho'.” + </p> + <p> + As the shout went up he divided the legs of mutton into shares and went + off to eat his own on the dark edge of the wood. + </p> + <p> + A little later he came back to hang Dan's cap and jacket on the branches + of a young pine tree. When he had arranged them with elaborate care, he + raked a bed of tags together, and covered them with an army blanket + stamped in the centre with the half obliterated letters U. S. + </p> + <p> + “That's a good boy, Big Abel, go to sleep,” said Dan, flinging himself + down upon the pine-tag bed. “Strange how much spirit a sheep can put into + a man. I wouldn't run now if I saw Pope's whole army coming.” + </p> + <p> + Turning over he lay sleepily gazing into the blue dusk illuminated with + the campfires which were slowly dying down. Around him he heard the + subdued murmur of the mess, deep and full, though rising now and then into + a clearer burst of laughter. The men were smoking their brier-root pipes + about the embers, leaning against the dim bodies of the pines, while they + discussed the incidents of the march with a touch of the unconquerable + humour of the Confederate soldier. Somebody had a fresh joke on the + quartermaster, and everybody hoped great things of the campaign into + Maryland. + </p> + <p> + “I pray it may bring me a pair of shoes,” muttered Dan, as he dropped off + into slumber. + </p> + <p> + The next day, with bands playing “Maryland, My Maryland,” and the Southern + Cross taking the September wind, the ragged army waded the Potomac, and + passed into other fields. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. — A STRAGGLER FROM THE RANKS + </h2> + <p> + In two weeks it swept back, wasted, stubborn, hungrier than ever. On a + sultry September afternoon, Dan, who had gone down with a sharp return of + fever, was brought, with a wagonful of the wounded, and placed on a heap + of straw on the brick pavement of Shepherdstown. For two days he had been + delirious, and Big Abel had held him to his bed during the long nights + when the terrible silence seemed filled with the noise of battle; but, as + he was lifted from the wagon and laid upon the sidewalk, he opened his + eyes and spoke in a natural voice. + </p> + <p> + “What's all this fuss, Big Abel? Have I been out of my head?” + </p> + <p> + “You sutney has, suh. You've been a-prayin' en shoutin' so loud dese las' + tree days dat I wunner de Lawd ain' done shet yo' mouf des ter git rid er + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Praying, have I?” said Dan. “Well, I declare. That reminds me of Mr. + Blake, Big Abel. I'd like to know what's become of him.” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel shook his head; he was in no pleasant humour, for the corners of + his mouth were drawn tightly down and there was a rut between his bushy + eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “I nuver seed no sich place es dis yer town in all my lifetime,” he + grumbled. “Dey des let us lie roun' loose on de bricks same es ef we ain' + been fittin' fur 'em twel we ain' nuttin' but skin en bone. Dose two wagon + loads er cut-up sodgers hev done fill de houses so plum full dat dey + sticks spang thoo de cracks er de do's. Don' talk ter me, suh, I ain' got + no use fur dis wah, noways, caze hit's a low-lifeted one, dat's what 'tis; + en ef you'd a min' w'at I tell you, you'd be settin' up at home right dis + minute wid ole Miss a-feedin' you on br'ile chicken. You may fit all you + wanter—I ain' sayin' nuttin' agin yo' fittin ef yo' spleen hit's up—but + you could er foun' somebody ter fit wid back at home widout comin' out + hyer ter git yo'se'f a-jumbled up wid all de po' white trash in de county. + Dis yer wah ain' de kin' I'se use ter, caze hit jumbles de quality en de + trash tergedder des like dey wuz bo'n blood kin.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you muttering about now, Big Abel?” broke in Dan impatiently. + “For heaven's sake stop and find me a bed to lie on. Are they going to + leave me out here in the street on this pile of straw?” + </p> + <p> + “De Lawd he knows,” hopelessly responded Big Abel. “Dey's a-fixin' places, + dey sez, dat's why all dese folks is a-runnin' dis away en dat away like + chickens wid dere haids chopped off. 'Fo' you hed yo' sense back dey + wanted ter stick you over yonder in dat ole blue shanty wid all de skin + peelin' off hit, but I des put my foot right down en 'lowed dey 'ouldn't. + W'at you wan' ketch mo'n you got fur?” + </p> + <p> + “But I can't stay here,” weakly remonstrated Dan, “and I must have + something to eat—I tell you I could eat nails. Bring me anything on + God's earth except green corn.” + </p> + <p> + The street was filled with women, and one of them, passing with a bowl of + gruel in her hand, came back and held it to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “You poor fellow!” she said impulsively, in a voice that was rich with + sympathy. “Why, I don't believe you've had a bite for a month.” + </p> + <p> + Dan smiled at her from his heap of straw—an unkempt haggard figure. + </p> + <p> + “Not from so sweet a hand,” he responded, his old spirit rising strong + above misfortune. + </p> + <p> + His voice held her, and she regarded him with a pensive face. She had + known men in her day, which had declined long since toward its evening, + and with the unerring instinct of her race she knew that the one before + her was well worth the saving. Gallantry that could afford to jest in rags + upon a pile of straw appealed to her Southern blood as little short of the + heroic. She saw the pinch of hunger about the mouth, and she saw, too, the + singular beauty which lay, obscured to less keen eyes, beneath the fever + and the dirt. + </p> + <p> + “The march must have been fearful—I couldn't have stood it,” she + said, half to test the man. + </p> + <p> + Rising to the challenge, he laughed outright. “Well, since you mention it, + it wasn't just the thing for a lady,” he answered, true to his salt. + </p> + <p> + For a moment she looked at him in silence, then turned regretfully to Big + Abel. + </p> + <p> + “The houses have filled up already, I believe,” she said, “but there is a + nice dry stable up the street which has just been cleaned out for a + hospital. Carry your master up the next square and then into the alley a + few steps where you will find a physician. I am going now for food and + bandages.” + </p> + <p> + She hurried on, and Big Abel, seizing Dan beneath the arms, dragged him + breathlessly along the street. + </p> + <p> + “A stable! Huh! Hit's a wunner dey ain' ax us ter step right inter a nice + clean pig pen,” he muttered as he walked on rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mind the stable, but this pace will kill me,” groaned Dan. + “Not so fast, Big Abel, not so fast.” + </p> + <p> + “Dis yer ain' no time to poke,” replied Big Abel, sternly, and lifting the + young man in his arms, he carried him bodily into the stable and laid him + on a clean-smelling bed of straw. The place was large and well lighted, + and Dan, as he turned over, heaved a grateful sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Let me sleep—only let me sleep,” he implored weakly. + </p> + <p> + And for two days he slept, despite the noise about him. Dressed in clean + clothes, brought by the lady of the morning, and shaved by the skilful + hand of Big Abel, he buried himself in the fresh straw and dreamed of + Chericoke and Betty. The coil of battle swept far from him; he heard none + of the fret and rumour that filled the little street; even the moans of + the men beneath the surgeons' knives did not penetrate to where he lay + sunk in the stupor of perfect contentment. It was not until the morning of + the third day, when the winds that blew over the Potomac brought the + sounds of battle, that he was shocked back into a troubled consciousness + of his absence from the army. Then he heard the voices of the guns calling + to him from across the river, and once or twice he struggled up to answer. + </p> + <p> + “I must go, Big Abel—they are in need of me,” he said. “Listen! + don't you hear them calling?” + </p> + <p> + “Go way f'om yer, Marse Dan, dey's des a-firin' at one anurr,” returned + Big Abel, but Dan still tossed impatiently, his strained eyes searching + through the door into the cloudy light of the alley. It was a sombre day, + and the oppressive atmosphere seemed heavy with the smoke of battle. + </p> + <p> + “If I only knew how it was going,” he murmured, in the anguish of + uncertainty. “Hush! isn't that a cheer, Big Abel?” + </p> + <p> + “I don' heah nuttin' but de crowin' er a rooster on de fence.” + </p> + <p> + “There it is again!” cried Dan, starting up. “I can swear it is our side. + Listen—go to the door—by God, man, that's our yell! Ah, there + comes the rattle of the muskets—don't you hear it?” + </p> + <p> + “Lawd, Marse Dan, I'se done hyern dat soun' twel I'm plum sick er it,” + responded Big Abel, carefully measuring out a dose of arsenic, which had + taken the place of quinine in a country where medicine was becoming as + scarce as food. “You des swallow dis yer stuff right down en tu'n over en + go fas' asleep agin.” + </p> + <p> + Taking the glass with trembling hands, Dan drained it eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “It's the artillery now,” he said, quivering with excitement. “The + explosions come so fast I can hardly separate them. I never knew how long + shells could screech before—do you mean to say they are really + across the river? Go into the alley, Big Abel, and tell me if you see the + smoke.” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel went out and returned, after a few moments, with the news that + the smoke could be plainly seen, he was told, from the upper stories. + There was such a crowd in the street, he added, that he could barely get + along—nobody knew anything, but the wounded, who were arriving in + great numbers, reported that General Lee could hold his ground “against + Lucifer and all his angels.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold his ground,” groaned Dan, with feverish enthusiasm, “why, he could + hold a hencoop, for the matter of that, against the whole of North + America! Oh, but this is worse than fighting. I must get up!” + </p> + <p> + “You don' wanter git out dar in dat mess er skeered rabbits,” returned Big + Abel. “You cyarn see yo' han' befo' you fur de way dey's w'igglin' roun' + de street, en w'at's mo' you cyarn heah yo' own w'uds fur de racket dey's + a-kickin' up. Des lis'en ter 'em now, des lis'en!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish I could tell our guns,” murmured Dan at each quick explosion. + “Hush! there comes the cheer, now—somebody's charging! It may be our + brigade, Big Abel, and I not in it.” + </p> + <p> + He closed his eyes and fell back from sheer exhaustion, still following, + as he lay there, the battalion that had sprung forward with that charging + yell. Gray, obscured in smoke, curved in the centre, uneven as the + Confederate line of battle always was—he saw it sweep onward over + the September field. At the moment to have had his place in that charge + beyond the river, he would have cheerfully met his death when the day was + over. + </p> + <p> + Through the night he slept fitfully, awaking from time to time to ask + eagerly if it were not almost daybreak; then with the dawn the silence + that had fallen over the Potomac seemed to leave a greater blank to be + filled with the noises along the Virginia shore. The hurrying footsteps in + the street outside kept up ceaselessly until the dark again; mingled with + the cries of the wounded and the prayers of the frightened he heard always + that eager, tireless passing of many feet. So familiar it became, so + constant an accompaniment to his restless thoughts, that when at last the + day wore out and the streets grew empty, he found himself listening for + the steps of a passer-by as intently as he had listened in the morning for + the renewed clamour of the battle on the Maryland fields. + </p> + <p> + The stir of the retreat did not reach the stable where he lay; all night + the army was recrossing the Potomac, but to Dan, tossing on his bed of + straw, it lighted the victor's watch-fires on the disputed ground. He had + not seen the shattered line of battle as it faced disease, exhaustion, and + an army stronger by double numbers, nor had he seen the gray soldiers + lying row on row where they had kept the “sunken road.” Thick as the + trampled corn beneath them, with the dust covering them like powder, and + the scattered fence rails lying across their faces, the dead men of his + own brigade were stretched upon the hillside, but through the long night + he lay wakeful in the stable, watching with fevered eyes the tallow dips + that burned dimly on the wall. + </p> + <p> + In the morning a nurse, coming with a bowl of soup, brought the news that + Lee's army was again on Virginia soil. + </p> + <p> + “McClellan has opened a battery,” she explained, “that's the meaning of + this fearful noise—did you ever hear such sounds in your life? Yes, + the shells are flying over the town, but they've done no harm as yet.” + </p> + <p> + She hastened off, and a little later a dishevelled straggler, with a cloth + about his forehead, burst in at the open door. + </p> + <p> + “They're shelling the town,” he cried, waving a dirty hand, “an' you'll be + prisoners in an hour if you don't git up and move. The Yankees are comin', + I seed 'em cross the river. Lee's cut up, I tell you, he's left half his + army dead in Maryland. Thar! they're shellin' the town, sho' 'nough!” + </p> + <p> + With a last wave he disappeared into the alley, and Dan struggled from his + bed and to the door. “Give me your arm, Big Abel,” he said, speaking in a + loud voice that he might be heard above the clamour. “I can't stay here. + It isn't being killed I mind, but, by God, they'll never take me prisoner + so long as I'm alive. Come here and give me your arm. You aren't afraid to + go out, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Lawd, Marse Dan, I'se mo' feared ter stay hyer,” responded Big Abel, with + an ashen face. “Whar we gwine hide, anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “We won't hide, we'll run,” returned Dan gravely, and with his arm on the + negro's shoulder, he passed through the alley out into the street. There + the noise bewildered him an instant, and his eyes went blind while he + grasped Big Abel's sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, I can't see,” he said. “Now, that's right, go on. By + George, it's bedlam turned loose, let's get out of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Dis away, Marse Dan, dis away, step right hyer,” urged Big Abel, as he + slipped through the hurrying crowd of fugitives which packed the street. + White and black, men and women, sick and well, they swarmed up and down in + the dim sunshine beneath the flying shells, which skimmed the town to + explode in the open fields beyond. The wounded were there—all who + could stand upon their feet or walk with the aid of crutches—stumbling + on in a mad panic to the meadows where the shells burst or the hot sun + poured upon festering cuts. Streaming in noisy groups, the slaves fled + after them, praying, shrieking, calling out that the day of judgment was + upon them, yet bearing upon their heads whatever they could readily lay + hands on—bundles, baskets, babies, and even clucking fowls tied by + the legs. Behind them went a troop of dogs, piercing the tumult with + excited barks. + </p> + <p> + Dan, fevered, pallid, leaning heavily upon Big Abel, passed unnoticed amid + a throng which was, for the most part, worse off than himself. Men with + old wounds breaking out afresh, or new ones staining red the cloths they + wore, pushed wildly by him, making, as all made, for the country roads + that led from war to peace. It was as if the hospitals of the world had + disgorged themselves in the sunshine on the bright September fields. + </p> + <p> + Once, as Dan moved slowly on, he came upon a soldier, with a bandage at + his throat sitting motionless upon a rock beside a clump of thistles, and + moved by the expression of supreme terror on the man's face, he stopped + and laid a hand upon his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “What's the trouble, friend—given up?” he asked, and then drew back + quickly for the man was dead. After this they went on more rapidly, flying + from the horrors along the road as from the screaming shells and the dread + of capture. + </p> + <p> + At the hour of sunset, after many halts upon the way, they found + themselves alone and still facing the open road. Since midday they had + stopped for dinner with a hospitable farmer, and, some hours later, Big + Abel had feasted on wild grapes, which he had found hidden in the shelter + of a little wood. In the same wood a stream had tinkled over silver rocks, + and Dan, lying upon the bank of moss, had bathed his face and hands in the + clear water. Now, while the shadows fell in spires across the road, they + turned into a quiet country lane, and stood watching the sun as it dropped + beyond the gray stone wall. In the grass a small insect broke into a low + humming, and the silence, closing the next instant, struck upon Dan's ears + like a profound and solemn melody. He took off his cap, and still leaning + upon Big Abel, looked with rested eyes on the sloping meadow brushed with + the first gold of autumn. Something that was not unlike shame had fallen + over him—as if the horrors of the morning were a mere vulgar affront + which man had put upon the face of nature. The very anguish of the day + obtruded awkwardly upon his thoughts, and the wild clamour he had left + behind him showed with a savage crudeness against a landscape in which the + dignity of earth—of the fruitful life of seasons and of crops—produced + in a solitary observer a quiet that was not untouched by awe. Where nature + was suggestive of the long repose of ages, the brief passions of a single + generation became as the flicker of a candle or the glow of a firefly in + the night. + </p> + <p> + “Dat's a steep road ahead er us,” remarked Big Abel suddenly, as he stared + into the shadows. + </p> + <p> + Dan came back with a start. + </p> + <p> + “Where shall we sleep?” he asked. “No, not in that field—the open + sky would keep me awake, I think. Let's bivouac in the woods as usual.” + </p> + <p> + They moved on a little way and entered a young pine forest, where Big Abel + gathered a handful of branches and kindled a light blaze. + </p> + <p> + “You ain' never eat nigger food, is you, Marse Dan?” he inquired as he did + so. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” ejaculated Dan, “ask a man who has lived two months on + corn-field peas if he's eaten hog food, and he'll be pretty sure to answer + 'yes.' Do you know we must have crawled about six miles to-day.” He lay + back on the pine tags and stared straight above where the long green + needles were illuminated on a background of purple space. A few fireflies + made golden points among the tree-tops. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'se got a hunk er middlin',” pursued Big Abel thoughtfully, “a + strip er fat en a strip er lean des like hit oughter be—but a nigger + 'ooman she gun hit ter me, en I 'low Ole Marster wouldn't tech hit wid a + ten-foot pole.” He stuck the meat upon the end of Dan's bayonet and held + it before the flames. “Ole Marster wouldn't tech hit, but den he ain' + never had dese times.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right,” replied Dan idly, filling his pipe and lighting it with a + small red ember, “and all things considered, I don't think I'll raise any + racket about that middling, Big Abel.” + </p> + <p> + “Hit ain' all nigger food, no how,” added Big Abel reflectively, “caze de + 'ooman she done steal it f'om w'ite folks sho's you bo'n.” + </p> + <p> + “I only wish she had been tempted to steal some bread along with it,” + rejoined Dan. + </p> + <p> + Big Abel's answer was to draw a hoecake wrapped in an old newspaper from + his pocket and place it on a short pine stump. Then he reached for his + jack-knife and carefully slit the hoecake down the centre, after which he + laid the bacon in slices between the crusts. + </p> + <p> + “Did she steal that, too?” inquired Dan laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, suh, I stole dis.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never! You'll be ashamed to look the Major in the face when the + war is over.” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel nodded gloomily as he passed the sandwich to Dan, who divided it + into two equal portions. “Dar's somebody got ter do de stealin' in dis yer + worl',” he returned with rustic philosophy, “des es dar's somebody got ter + be w'ite folks en somebody got ter be nigger, caze de same pusson cyarn be + ner en ter dat's sho'. Dar ain' 'oom fer all de yerth ter strut roun' wid + dey han's in dey pockets en dey nose tu'nt up des caze dey's hones'. Lawd, + Lawd, ef I'd a-helt my han's back f'om pickin' en stealin' thoo dis yer + wah, whar 'ould you be now—I ax you dat?” + </p> + <p> + Catching a dried branch the flame shot up suddenly, and he sat relieved + against the glow, like a gigantic statue in black basalt. + </p> + <p> + “Well, all's fair in love and war,” replied Dan, adjusting himself to + changed conditions. “If that wasn't as true as gospel, I should be dead + to-morrow from this fat bacon.” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel started up. + </p> + <p> + “Lis'en ter dat ole hoot owl,” he exclaimed excitedly, “he's a-settin' + right over dar on dat dead limb a-hootin' us plum in de mouf. Ain' dat + like 'em, now? Is you ever seed sech airs as dey put on?” + </p> + <p> + He strode off into the darkness, and Dan, seized with a sudden + homesickness for the army, lay down beside his musket and fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. — THE CABIN IN THE WOODS + </h2> + <p> + At daybreak they took up the march again, Dan walking slowly, with his + musket striking the ground and his arm on Big Abel's shoulder. Where the + lane curved in the hollow, they came upon a white cottage, with a woman + milking a spotted cow in the barnyard. As she caught sight of them, she + waved wildly with her linsey apron, holding the milk pail carefully + between her feet as the spotted cow turned inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “Go 'way, I don't want no stragglers here,” she cried, as one having + authority. + </p> + <p> + Leaning upon the fence, Dan placidly regarded her. + </p> + <p> + “My dear madam, you commit an error of judgment,” he replied, pausing to + argue. + </p> + <p> + With the cow's udder in her hand the woman looked up from the streaming + milk. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ain't you stragglers?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + Dan shook his head reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “What air you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Beggars, madam.” + </p> + <p> + “I might ha' knowed it!” returned the woman, with a snort. “Well, whatever + you air, you kin jest as eas'ly keep on along that thar road. I ain't got + nothing on this place for you. Some of you broke into my smokehouse night + befo' last an' stole all the spar' ribs I'd been savin'. Was you the + ones?” + </p> + <p> + “No, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're all alike,” protested the woman, scornfully, “an' a bigger set + o' rascals I never seed.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Who's a rascal?” exclaimed Big Abel, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “This is the reward of doing your duty, Big Abel,” remarked Dan, gravely. + “Never do it again, remember. The next time Virginia is invaded we'll sit + by the fire and warm our feet. Good morning, madam.” + </p> + <p> + “Why ain't you with the army?” inquired the woman sharply, slapping the + cow upon the side as she rose from her seat and took up the milk pail. “An + officer rode by this morning an' he told me part of the army was campin' + ten miles across on the other road.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he say whose division?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I reckon you kin fight as well under one general as another, so long + as you've got a mind to fight at all. You jest follow this lane about + three miles and then keep straight along the turnpike. If you do that I + reckon you'll git yo' deserts befo' sundown.” She came over to the fence + and stood fixing them with hard, bright eyes. “My! You do look used up,” + she admitted after a moment. “You'd better come in an' git a glass of this + milk befo' you move on. Jest go roun' to the gate and I'll meet you at the + po'ch. The dog won't bite you if you don't touch nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, go ahead and hide the spoons,” called Dan, as he swung open + the gate and went up a little path bordered by prince's feathers. + </p> + <p> + The woman met them at the porch and led them into a clean kitchen, where + Dan sat down at the table and Big Abel stationed himself behind his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Drink a glass of that milk the first thing,” she said, bustling heavily + about the room, and browbeating them into submissive silence, while she + mixed the biscuits and broke the eggs into a frying-pan greased with bacon + gravy. Plump, hearty, with a full double chin and cheeks like winter + apples, she moved briskly from the wooden safe to the slow fire, which she + stirred with determined gestures. + </p> + <p> + “It's time this war had stopped, anyhow,” she remarked as she slapped the + eggs up into the air and back again into the pan. “An' if General Lee ever + rides along this way I mean to tell him that he ought to have one good + battle an' be done with it. Thar's no use piddlin' along like this twil + we're all worn out and thar ain't a corn-field pea left in Virginny. Look + here (to Big Abel), you set right down on that do' step an' I'll give you + something along with yo' marster. It's a good thing I happened to look + under the cow trough yestiddy or thar wouldn't have been an egg left in + this house. That's right, turn right in an' eat hearty—don't mince + with me.” Big Abel, cowed by her energetic manner, seated himself upon the + door step, and for a half-hour the woman ceaselessly plied them with hot + biscuits and coffee made from sweet potatoes. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't think I mind doing for the soldiers,” she said when they took + their leave a little later, “but I've a husban' with General Lee and I + can't bear to see able-bodied men stragglin' about the country. No, don't + give me nothin'—it ain't worth it. Lord, don't I know that you don't + git enough to buy a bag of flour.” Then she pointed out the way again and + they set off with a well-filled paper of luncheon. + </p> + <p> + “Beware of hasty judgments, Big Abel,” advised Dan, as they strolled along + the road. “Now that woman there—she's the right sort, though she + rather took my breath away.” + </p> + <p> + “She 'uz downright ficy at fu'st,” replied Big Abel, “but I d'clar dose + eggs des melted in my mouf like butter. Whew! don't I wish I had dat ole + speckled hen f'om home. I could hev toted her unner my arm thoo dis wah + des es well es not.” + </p> + <p> + The sun was well overhead, and across the landscape the heavy dew was + lifted like a veil. Here and there the autumn foliage tinted the woods in + splashes of red and yellow; and beyond the low stone wall an old sheep + pasture was ablaze in goldenrod. From a pointed aspen beside the road a + wild grapevine let down a fringe of purple clusters, but Big Abel, with a + full stomach, passed them by indifferently. A huge buzzard, rising + suddenly from the pasture, sailed slowly across the sky, its heavy shadow + skimming the field beneath. As yet the flames of war had not blown over + this quiet spot; in the early morning dew it lay as fresh as the world in + its beginning. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the lane, when they came out upon the turnpike, they met an + old farmer riding a mule home from the market. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me if McClellan has crossed the Potomac?” asked Dan, as he + came up with him. “I was in the hospital at Shepherdstown, and I left it + for fear of capture. No news has reached me, but I am on my way to rejoin + the army.” + </p> + <p> + “Naw, suh, you might as well have stayed whar you were,” responded the old + man, eying him with the suspicion which always met a soldier out of ranks. + “McClellan didn't do no harm on this side of the river—he jest set + up a battery on Douglas hill and scolded General Lee for leaving Maryland + so soon. You needn't worry no mo' 'bout the Yankees gittin' on this side—thar + ain't none of 'em left to come, they're all dead. Why, General Lee cut 'em + all up into little pieces, that's what he did. Hooray! it was jest like + Bible times come back agin.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as Dan moved on, the farmer raised himself in his stirrups and + called loudly after him. “Keep to the Scriptures, young man, and remember + Joshua, Smite them hip an' thigh, as the Bible says.” + </p> + <p> + All day in the bright sunshine they crept slowly onward, halting at brief + intervals to rest in the short grass by the roadside, and stopping to ask + information of the countrymen or stragglers whom they met. At last in the + red glow of the sunset they entered a strip of thin woodland, and found an + old negro gathering resinous knots from the bodies of fallen pines. + </p> + <p> + “Bless de Lawd!” he exclaimed as he faced them. “Is you done come fer de + sick sodger at my cabin?” + </p> + <p> + “A sick soldier? Why, we are all sick soldiers,” answered Dan. “Where did + he come from?” The old man shook his head, as he placed his heavy split + basket on the ground at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I dunno, marster, he ain' come, he des drapped. 'Twuz yestiddy en I 'uz + out hyer pickin' up dis yer lightwood des like I is doin' dis minute, w'en + I heah 'a-bookerty! bookerty! bookerty!' out dar in de road 'en a w'ite + hoss tu'n right inter de woods wid a sick sodger a-hangin' ter de saddle. + Yes, suh, de hoss he come right in des like he knowed me, en w'en I helt + out my han' he poke his nose spang inter it en w'innied like he moughty + glad ter see me—en he wuz, too, dat's sho'. Well, I ketch holt er + his bridle en lead 'im thoo de woods up ter my do' whar he tu'n right in + en begin ter nibble in de patch er kebbage. All dis time I 'uz 'lowin' dat + de sodger wuz stone dead, but w'en I took 'im down he opened his eyes en + axed fur water. Den I gun 'im a drink outer de goa'd en laid 'im flat on + my bed, en in a little w'ile a nigger come by dat sez he b'longed ter 'im, + but befo' day de nigger gone agin en de hoss he gone, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'll see about him, uncle, go ahead,” said Dan, and as the old + negro went up the path among the trees, he followed closely on his + footsteps. When they had gone a little way the woods opened suddenly and + they came upon a small log cabin, with a yellow dog lying before the door. + The dog barked shrilly as they approached, and a voice from the dim room + beyond called out:— + </p> + <p> + “Hosea! Are you back so soon, Hosea?” + </p> + <p> + At the words Dan stopped as if struck by lightning, midway of the + vegetable garden; then breaking from Big Abel, he ran forward and into the + little cabin. + </p> + <p> + “Is the hurt bad, Governor?” he asked in a trembling voice. + </p> + <p> + The Governor smiled and held out a steady hand above the ragged patchwork + quilt. His neat gray coat lay over him and as Dan caught the glitter and + the collar he remembered the promotion after Seven Pines. + </p> + <p> + “Let me help you, General,” he implored. “What is it that we can do?” + </p> + <p> + “I have come to the end, my boy,” replied the Governor, his rich voice + unshaken. “I have seen men struck like this before and I have lived twelve + hours longer than the strongest of them. When I could go no farther I sent + Hosea ahead to make things ready—and now I am keeping alive to hear + from home. Give me water.” + </p> + <p> + Dan held the glass to his lips, and looking up, the Governor thanked him + with his old warm glance that was so like Betty's. “There are some things + that are worth fighting for,” said the older man as he fell back, “and the + sight of home is one of them. It was a hard ride, but every stab of pain + carried me nearer to Uplands—and there are poor fellows who endure + worse things and yet die in a strange land among strangers.” He was silent + a moment and then spoke slowly, smiling a little sadly. + </p> + <p> + “My memory has failed me,” he said, “and when I lay here last night and + tried to recall the look of the lawn at home, I couldn't remember—I + couldn't remember. Are there elms or maples at the front, Dan?” + </p> + <p> + “Maples, sir,” replied Dan, with the deference of a boy. “The long walk + bordered by lilacs goes up from the road to the portico with the Doric + columns—you remember that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, go on.” + </p> + <p> + “The maples have grown thick upon the lawn and close beside the house + there is the mimosa tree that your father set out on his twenty-first + birthday.” + </p> + <p> + “The branches touch the library window. I had them trimmed last year that + the shutters might swing back. What time is it, Dan?” + </p> + <p> + Dan turned to the door. + </p> + <p> + “What time is it, Big Abel?” he called to the negro outside. + </p> + <p> + “Hit's goin' on eight o'clock, suh,” replied Big Abel, staring at the + west. “De little star he shoots up moughty near eight, en dar he is + a-comin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Hosea is there by now,” said the Governor, turning his head on a pillow + of pine needles. “He started this morning, and I told him to change horses + upon the road and eat in the saddle. Yes, he is there by now and Julia is + on the way. Am I growing weaker, do you think? There is a little brandy on + the chair, give me a few drops—we must make it last all night.” + </p> + <p> + After taking the brandy he slept a little, and awaking quietly, looked at + Dan with dazed eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” he asked, stretching out his hand. “Why, I thought Dick Wythe + was dead.” + </p> + <p> + Dan bent over him, smoothing the hair from his brow with hands that were + gentle as a woman's. + </p> + <p> + “Surely you haven't forgotten me,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No—no, I remember, but it is dark, too dark. Why doesn't Shadrach + bring the candles? And we might as well have a blaze in the fireplace + to-night. It has grown chilly; there'll be a white frost before morning.” + </p> + <p> + There was a basket of resinous pine beside the hearth, and Dan kindled a + fire from a handful of rich knots. As the flames shot up, the rough little + cabin grew more cheerful, and the Governor laughed softly lying on his + pallet. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I thought you were Dick Wythe, my boy,” he said. “The light was so + dim I couldn't see, and, after all, it was no great harm, for there was + not a handsomer man in the state than my friend Dick—the ladies used + to call him 'Apollo Unarmed,' you know. Ah, I was jealous enough of Dick + in my day, though he never knew it. He rather took Julia's fancy when I + first began courting her, and, for a time, he pretended to reform and + refused to touch a drop even at the table. I've seen him sit for hours, + too, in Julia's Bible class of little negroes, with his eyes positively + glued on her face while she read the hymns aloud. Yes, he was over head + and ears in love with her, there's no doubt of that—though she has + always denied it—and, I dare say, he would have been a much better + man if she had married him, and I a much worse one. Somehow, I can't help + feeling that it wasn't quite just, and that I ought to square up things + with Dick at Judgment Day. I shouldn't like to reap any good from his + mistakes, poor fellow.” He broke off for an instant, lay gazing at the + lightwood blaze, and then took up the thread. “He had his fall at last, + and it's been on my conscience ever since that I didn't toss that bowl of + apple toddy through the window when I saw him going towards it. We were at + Chericoke on Christmas Eve in a big snowstorm, and Dick couldn't resist + his glass—he never could so long as there was a drop at the bottom + of it—the more he drank, the thirstier he got, he used to say. Well, + he took a good deal, more than he could stand, and when the Major began + toasting the ladies and called them the prettiest things God ever made, + Dick flew into a rage and tried to fight him. 'There are two prettier + sights than any woman that ever wore petticoats,' he thundered; 'and (here + he ripped out an oath) I'll prove it to you at the sword's point before + sunrise. God made but one thing, sir, prettier than the cobwebs on a + bottle of wine, and that's the bottle of wine without the cobwebs!' Then + he went at the Major, and we had to hold him back and rub snow on his + temples. That night I drove home with Julia, and she accepted me before we + passed the wild cherry tree on the way to Uplands.” + </p> + <p> + As he fell silent the old negro, treading softly, came into the room and + made the preparations for his simple supper, which he carried outside + beneath the trees. In a little bared place amid charred wood, a fire was + started, and Dan watched through the open doorway the stooping figures of + the two negroes as they bent beside the flames. In a little while Big Abel + came into the room and beckoned him, but he shook his head impatiently and + turned away, sickened by the thought of food. + </p> + <p> + “Go, my boy,” said the Governor, as if he had seen it through closed eyes. + “I never saw a private yet that wasn't hungry—one told me last week + that his diet for a year had varied only three times—blackberries, + chinquapins, and persimmons had kept him alive, he said.” + </p> + <p> + Then his mind wandered again, and he talked in a low voice of the wheat + fields at Uplands and of the cradles swinging all day in the sunshine. + Dan, moving to the door, stared, with aching eyes, at the rich twilight + which crept like purple mist among the trees. The very quiet of the scene + grated as a discord upon his mood, and he would have welcomed with a + feeling of relief any violent manifestation of the savagery of nature. A + storm, an earthquake, even the thunder of battle he felt would be less + tragic than just this pleasant evening with the serene moon rising above + the hills. + </p> + <p> + Turning back into the room, he drew a split-bottomed chair beside the + hearth, and began his patient watch until the daybreak. Under the + patchwork quilt the Governor lay motionless, dead from the waist down, + only the desire in his eyes struggling to keep the spirit to the clay. Big + Abel and the old negro made themselves a bed beneath the trees, and as + they raked the dried leaves together the mournful rustling filled the + little cabin. Then they lay down, the yellow dog beside them, and + gradually the silence of the night closed in. + </p> + <p> + After midnight, Dan, who had dozed in his chair from weariness, was + awakened by the excited tones of the Governor's voice. The desire was + vanquished at last and the dying man had gone back in delirium to the + battle he had fought beyond the river. On the hearth the resinous pine + still blazed and from somewhere among the stones came the short chirp of a + cricket. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's nothing—a mere scratch. Lay me beneath that tree, and tell + Barnes to support D. H. Hill at the sunken road. Richardson is charging us + across the ploughed ground and we are fighting from behind the stacked + fence rails. Ah, they advance well, those Federals—not a man out of + line, and their fire has cut the corn down as with a sickle. If Richardson + keeps this up, he will sweep us from the wood and beyond the slope. No, + don't take me to the hospital. Please God, I'll die upon the field and + hear the cannon at the end. Look! they are charging again, but we still + hold our ground. What, Longstreet giving way? They are forcing him from + the ridge—the enemy hold it now! Ah, well, there is A. P. Hill to + give the counter stroke. If he falls upon their flank, the day is—” + </p> + <p> + His voice ceased, and Dan, crossing the room, gave him brandy from the + glass upon the chair. The silence had grown suddenly oppressive, and as + the young man went back to his seat, he saw a little mouse gliding like a + shadow across the floor. Startled by his footsteps, it hesitated an + instant in the centre of the room, and then darted along the wall and + disappeared between the loose logs in the corner. Often during the night + it crept out from its hiding place, and at last Dan grew to look for it + with a certain wistful comfort in its shy companionship. + </p> + <p> + Gradually the stars went out above the dim woods, and the dawn whitened + along the eastern sky. With the first light Dan went to the open door and + drew a deep breath of the refreshing air. A new day was coming, but he met + it with dulled eyes and a crippled will. The tragedy of life seemed to + overhang the pleasant prospect upon which he looked, and, as he stood + there, he saw in his vision of the future only an endless warfare and a + wasted land. With a start he turned, for the Governor was speaking in a + voice that filled the cabin and rang out into the woods. + </p> + <p> + “Skirmishers, forward! Second the battalion of direction! Battalions, + forward!” + </p> + <p> + He had risen upon his pallet and was pointing straight at the open door, + but when, with a single stride, Dan reached him, he was already dead. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. — IN THE SILENCE OF THE GUNS + </h2> + <p> + At noon the next day, Dan, sitting beside the fireless hearth, with his + head resting on his clasped hands, saw a shadow fall suddenly upon the + floor, and, looking up, found Mrs. Ambler standing in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “I am too late?” she said quietly, and he bowed his head and motioned to + the pallet in the corner. + </p> + <p> + Without seeing the arm he put out, she crossed the room like one + bewildered by a sudden blow, and went to where the Governor was lying + beneath the patchwork quilt. No sound came to her lips; she only stretched + out her hand with a protecting gesture and drew the dead man to her arms. + Then it was that Dan, turning to leave her alone with her grief, saw that + Betty had followed her mother and was coming toward him from the doorway. + For an instant their eyes met; then the girl went to her dead, and Dan + passed out into the sunlight with a new bitterness at his heart. + </p> + <p> + A dozen yards from the cabin there was a golden beech spreading in wide + branches against the sky, and seating himself on a fallen log beneath it, + he looked over the soft hills that rose round and deep-bosomed from the + dim blue valley. He was still there an hour later when, hearing a rustle + in the grass, he turned and saw Betty coming to him over the yellowed + leaves. His first glance showed him that she had grown older and very + pale; his second that her kind brown eyes were full of tears. + </p> + <p> + “Betty, is it this way?” he asked, and opened his arms. + </p> + <p> + With a cry that was half a sob she ran toward him, her black skirt + sweeping the leaves about her feet. Then, as she reached him, she swayed + forward as if a strong wind blew over her, and as he caught her from the + ground, he kissed her lips. Her tears broke out afresh, but as they stood + there in each other's arms, neither found words to speak nor voice to + utter them. The silence between them had gone deeper than speech, for it + had in it all the dumb longing of the last two years—the unshaken + trust, the bitterness of the long separation, the griefs that had come to + them apart, and the sorrow that had brought them at last together. He held + her so closely that he felt the flutter of her breast with each rising + sob, and an anguish that was but a vibration from her own swept over him + like a wave from head to foot. Since he had put her from him on that last + night at Chericoke their passion had deepened by each throb of pain and + broadened by each step that had led them closer to the common world. Not + one generous thought, not one temptation overcome but had gone to the + making of their love to-day—for what united them now was not the + mere prompting of young impulse, but the strength out of many struggles + and the fulness out of experiences that had ripened the heart of each. + </p> + <p> + “Let me look at you,” said Betty, lifting her wet face. “It has been so + long, and I have wanted you so much—I have hungered sleeping and + waking.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't look at me, Betty, I am a skeleton—a crippled skeleton, and I + will not be looked at by my love.” + </p> + <p> + “Your love can see you with shut eyes. Oh, my best and dearest, do you + think you could keep me from seeing you however hard you tried? Why, + there's a lamp in my heart that lets me look at you even in the night.” + </p> + <p> + “Your lamp flatters, I am afraid to face it. Has it shown you this?” + </p> + <p> + He drew back and held up his maimed hand, his eyes fastened upon her face, + where the old fervour had returned. + </p> + <p> + With a sob that thrilled through him, she caught his hand to her lips and + then held it to her bosom, crooning over it little broken sounds of love + and pity. Through the spreading beech above a clear gold light filtered + down upon her, and a single yellow leaf was caught in her loosened hair. + He saw her face, impassioned, glorified, amid a flood of sunshine. + </p> + <p> + “And I did not know,” she said breathlessly. “You were wounded and there + was no one to tell me. Whenever there has been a battle I have sat very + still and shut my eyes, and tried to make myself go straight to you. I + have seen the smoke and heard the shots, and yet when it came I did not + know it. I may even have laughed and talked and eaten a stupid dinner + while you were suffering. Now I shall never smile again until I have you + safe.” + </p> + <p> + “But if I were dying I should want to see you smiling. Nobody ever smiled + before you, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are wounded, you will send for me. Promise me; I beg you on my + knees. You will send for me; say it or I shall be always wretched. Do you + want to kill me, Dan? Promise.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall send for you. There, will that do? It would be almost worth dying + to have you come to me. Would you kiss me then, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Then and now,” she answered passionately. “Oh, I sometimes think that + wars are fought to torture women! Hold me in your arms again or my heart + will break. I have missed Virginia so—never a day passes that I do + not see her coming through the rooms and hear her laugh—such a baby + laugh, do you remember it?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember everything that was near to you, beloved.” + </p> + <p> + “If you could have seen her on her wedding day, when she came down in her + pink crepe shawl and white bonnet that I had trimmed, and looked back, + smiling at us for the last time. I have almost died with wanting her again—and + now papa—papa! They loved life so, and yet both are dead, and life + goes on without them.” + </p> + <p> + “My poor love, poor Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “But not so poor as if I had lost you, too,” she answered; “and if you are + wounded even a little remember that you have promised, and I shall come to + you. Prince Rupert and I will pass the lines together. Do you know that I + have Prince Rupert, Dan?” + </p> + <p> + “Keep him, dear, don't let him get into the army.” + </p> + <p> + “He lives in the woods night and day, and when he comes to pasture I go + after him while Uncle Shadrach watches the turnpike. When the soldiers + come by, blue or gray, we hide him behind the willows in the brook. They + may take the chickens—and they do—but I should kill the man + who touched Prince Rupert's bridle.” + </p> + <p> + “You should have been a soldier, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “Oh, I couldn't shoot any one in cold blood—as + you do—that's different. I'd have to hate him as much—as much + as I love you.” + </p> + <p> + “How much is that?” + </p> + <p> + “A whole world full and brimming over; is that enough?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a little world?” he answered. “Is that all?” + </p> + <p> + “If I told you truly, you would not believe me,” she said earnestly. “You + would shake your head and say: 'Poor silly Betty, has she gone moon mad?'” + </p> + <p> + Catching her in his arms again, he kissed her hair and mouth and hands and + the ruffle at her throat. “Poor silly Betty,” he repeated, “where is your + wisdom now?” + </p> + <p> + “You have turned it into folly, sad little wisdom that it was.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I prefer your folly,” he said gravely. “It was folly that made you + love me at the first; it was pure folly that brought you out to me that + night at Chericoke—but the greatest folly of all is just this, my + dear.” + </p> + <p> + “But it will keep you safe.” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? I may get shot to-morrow. There, there, I only said it to feel + your arms about me.” + </p> + <p> + Her hands clung to him and the tears, rising to her lashes, fell fast upon + his coat. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't let me lose you,” she begged. “I have lost so much—don't + let me lose you, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Living or dead, I am yours, that I swear.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't want you dead. I want the feel of you. I want your hands, + your face. I want <i>you</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Betty, Betty,” he said softly. “Listen, for there is no word in the world + that means so much as just your name.” + </p> + <p> + “Except yours.” + </p> + <p> + “No interruptions, this is martial law. Dear, dearest, darling, are all + empty sounds; but when I say 'Betty,' it is full of life.” + </p> + <p> + “Say it again, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Betty, do you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask: 'Betty, is the sun shining?'” + </p> + <p> + “It always shines about you.” + </p> + <p> + “Because my hair is red?” + </p> + <p> + “Red? It is pure gold. Do you remember when I found that out on the hearth + in free Levi's cabin? The colour went to my head, but when I put out my + hand to touch a curl, you drew away and fastened them up again. Now I have + pulled them all down and you dare not move.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell you why I drew away?” + </p> + <p> + The tears were still on her lashes, but in the exaltation of a great + passion, life, death, the grave, and things beyond had dwindled like stars + before the rising sun. + </p> + <p> + “You told me then—because I was 'a pampered poodle dog.' Well, I've + outgrown that objection certainly. Let us hope you have a fancy for lean + hounds.” + </p> + <p> + She put up her hands in protest. + </p> + <p> + “I drew away partly because I knew you did not love me,” she said, meeting + his eyes with her clear and ardent gaze, “but more because—I knew + that I loved you.” + </p> + <p> + “You loved me then? Oh, Betty, if I had only known!” + </p> + <p> + “If you had known!” She covered her face. “Oh, it was terrible enough as + it was. I wanted to beat myself for shame.” + </p> + <p> + “Shame? In loving me, my darling?” + </p> + <p> + “In loving you like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense. If you had only said to me: 'My good sir, I love you a little + bit,' I should have come to my senses on the spot. Even pampered poodle + dogs are not all fat, Betty, and, as it was, I did come to the years of + discretion that very night. I didn't sleep a wink.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I.” + </p> + <p> + “I walked the floor till daybreak.” + </p> + <p> + “And I sat by the window.” + </p> + <p> + “I hurled every hard name at myself that I could think of. 'Dolt and + idiot' seemed to stick. By George, I can't get over it. To think that I + might have galloped down that turnpike and swept you off your feet. You + wouldn't have withstood me, Betty, you couldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet I did,” she said, smiling sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I didn't have a fair chance, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not,” she answered, “though sometimes I was afraid you would hear + my heart beating and know it all. Do you remember that morning in the + garden with the roses?—I wouldn't kiss you good-by, but if you had + done it against my will I'd have broken down. After you had gone I kissed + the grass where you had stood.” + </p> + <p> + “My God! I can't leave you, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + She met his passionate gaze with steady eyes. + </p> + <p> + “If you were not to go I should never have told you,” she answered; “but + if you die in battle you must remember it at the last.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems an awful waste of opportunities,” he said, “but I'll make it up + on the day that I come back a Major-general. Then I shall say 'forward, + madam,' and you'll marry me on the spot.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be too sure. I may grow coy again when the war is over.” + </p> + <p> + “When you do I'll find the remedy—for I'll be a Major-general, then, + and you a private. This war must make me, dear. I shan't stay in the ranks + much longer.” + </p> + <p> + “I like you there—it is so brave,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “But you'll like me anywhere, and I prefer the top—the very top. Oh, + my love, we'll wring our happiness from the world before we die!” + </p> + <p> + With a shiver she came back to the earth. + </p> + <p> + “I had almost forgotten him,” she said in keen self-reproach, and went + quickly over the rustling leaves to the cabin door. As Dan followed her + the day seemed to grow suddenly darker to his eyes. + </p> + <p> + On the threshold he met Mrs. Ambler, composed and tearless, wearing her + grief as a veil that hid her from the outside world. Before her calm gray + eyes he fell back with an emotion not unmixed with awe. + </p> + <p> + “I did the best I could,” he said bluntly, “but it was nothing.” + </p> + <p> + She thanked him quietly, asking a few questions in her grave and gentle + voice. Was he conscious to the end? Did he talk of home? Had he expressed + any wishes of which she was not aware? + </p> + <p> + “They are bringing him to the wagon now,” she finished steadily. “No, do + not go in—you are very weak and your strength must be saved to hold + your musket. Shadrach and Big Abel will carry him, I prefer it to be so. + We left the wagon at the end of the path; it is a long ride home, but we + have arranged to change horses, and we shall reach Uplands, I hope, by + sunrise.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish to God I could go with you!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Your place is with the army,” she answered. “I have no son to send, so + you must go in his stead. He would have it this way if he could choose.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment she was silent, and he looked at her placid face and the + smooth folds of her black silk with a wonder that checked his words. + </p> + <p> + “Some one said of him once,” she added presently, “that he was a man who + always took his duty as if it were a pleasure; and it was true—so + true. I alone saw how hard this was for him, for he hated war as heartily + as he dreaded death. Yet when both came he met them squarely and without + looking back.” + </p> + <p> + “He died as he had lived, the truest gentleman I have ever known,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + A pleased smile hovered for an instant on her lips. + </p> + <p> + “He fought hard against secession until it came,” she pursued quietly, + “for he loved the Union, and he had given it the best years of his life—his + strong years, he used to say. I think if he ever felt any bitterness + toward any one, it was for the man or men who brought us into this; and at + last he used to leave the room because he could not speak of them without + anger. He threw all his strength against the tide, yet, when it rushed on + in spite of him, he knew where his duty guided him, and he followed it, as + always, like a pleasure. You thought him sanguine, I suppose, but he never + was so—in his heart, though the rest of us think differently, he + always felt that he was fighting for a hopeless cause, and he loved it the + more for very pity of its weakness. 'It is the spirit and not the bayonet + that makes history,' he used to say.” + </p> + <p> + Heavy steps crossed the cabin floor, and Uncle Shadrach and Big Abel came + out bringing the dead man between them. With her hand on the gray coat, + Mrs. Ambler walked steadily as she leaned on Betty's shoulder. Once or + twice she noticed rocks in the way, and cautioned the negroes to go + carefully down the descending grade. The bright leaves drifted upon them, + and through the thin woods, along the falling path, over the lacework of + lights and shadows, they went slowly out into the road where Hosea was + waiting with the open wagon. + </p> + <p> + The Governor was laid upon the straw that filled the bottom, Mrs. Ambler + sat down beside him, and as Betty followed, Uncle Shadrach climbed upon + the seat above the wheel. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, my boy,” said Mrs. Ambler, giving him her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, my soldier,” said Betty, taking both of his. Then Hosea cracked + the whip and the wagon rolled out into the road, scattering the gray dust + high into the sunlight. + </p> + <p> + Dan, standing alone against the pines, looked after it with a gnawing + hunger at his heart, seeing first Betty's eyes, next the gleam of her + hair, then the dim figures fading into the straw, and at last the wagon + caught up in a cloud of dust. Down the curving road, round a green knoll, + across a little stream, and into the blue valley it passed as a speck upon + the landscape. Then the distance closed over it, the sand settled in the + road, and the blank purple hills crowded against the sky. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. — “THE PLACE THEREOF” + </h2> + <p> + In the full beams of the sun the wagon turned into the drive between the + lilacs and drew up before the Doric columns. Mr. Bill and the two old + ladies came out upon the portico, and the Governor was lifted down by + Uncle Shadrach and Hosea and laid upon the high tester bed in the room + behind the parlour. + </p> + <p> + As Betty entered the hall, the familiar sights of every day struck her + eyes with the smart of a physical blow. The excitement of the shock had + passed from her; there was no longer need to tighten the nervous strain, + and henceforth she must face her grief where the struggle is always + hardest—in the place where each trivial object is attended by + pleasant memories. While there was something for her hands to do—or + the danger of delay in the long watch upon the road—it had not been + so hard to brace her strength against necessity, but here—what was + there left that she must bring herself to endure? The torturing round of + daily things, the quiet house in which to cherish new regrets, and outside + the autumn sunshine on the long white turnpike. The old waiting grown + sadder, was begun again; she must put out her hands to take up life where + it had stopped, go up and down the shining staircase and through the + unchanged rooms, while her ears were always straining for the sound of the + cannon, or the beat of a horse's hoofs upon the road. + </p> + <p> + The brick wall around the little graveyard was torn down in one corner, + and, while the afternoon sun slanted between the aspens, the Governor was + laid away in the open grave beneath rank periwinkle. There was no minister + to read the service, but as the clods of earth fell on the coffin, Mrs. + Ambler opened her prayer book and Betty, kneeling upon the ground, heard + the low words with her eyes on the distant mountains. Overhead the aspens + stirred beneath a passing breeze, and a few withered leaves drifted slowly + down. Aunt Lydia wept softly, and the servants broke into a subdued + wailing, but Mrs. Ambler's gentle voice did not falter. + </p> + <p> + “He, cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a + shadow, and never continueth in one stay.” + </p> + <p> + She read on quietly in the midst of the weeping slaves, who had closed + about her. Then, at the last words, her hands dropped to her sides, and + she drew back while Uncle Shadrach shovelled in the clay. + </p> + <p> + “It is but a span,” she repeated, looking out into the sunshine, with a + light that was almost unearthly upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “Come away, mamma,” said Betty, holding out her arms; and when the last + spray of life-everlasting was placed upon the finished mound, they went + out by the hollow in the wall, turning from time to time to look back at + the gray aspens. Down the little hill, through the orchard, and across the + meadows filled with waving golden-rod, the procession of white and black + filed slowly homeward. When the lawn was reached each went to his + accustomed task, and Aunt Lydia to her garden. + </p> + <p> + An hour later the Major rode over in response to a message which had just + reached him. + </p> + <p> + “I was in town all the morning,” he explained in a trembling voice, “and I + didn't get the news until a half hour ago. The saddest day of my life, + madam, is the one upon which I learn that I have outlived him.” + </p> + <p> + “He loved you, Major,” said Mrs. Ambler, meeting his swimming eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Loved me!” repeated the old man, quivering in his chair, “I tell you, + madam, I would rather have been Peyton Ambler's friend than President of + the Confederacy! Do you remember the time he gave me his last keg of + brandy and went without for a month?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, smiling, and the Major, with red eyes and shaking hands, + wandered into endless reminiscences of the long friendship. To Betty these + trivial anecdotes were only a fresh torture, but Mrs. Ambler followed them + eagerly, comparing her recollections with the Major's, and repeating in a + low voice to herself characteristic stories which she had not heard + before. + </p> + <p> + “I remember that—we had been married six months then,” she would + say, with the unearthly light upon her face. “It is almost like living + again to hear you, Major.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, madam, life is a sad affair, but it is the best we've got,” + responded the old gentleman, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “He loved it,” returned Mrs. Ambler, and as the Major rose to go, she + followed him into the hall and inquired if Mrs. Lightfoot had been + successful with her weaving. “She told me that she intended to have her + old looms set up again,” she added, “and I think that I shall follow her + example. Between us we might clothe a regiment of soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + “She has had the servants brushing off the cobwebs for a week,” replied + the Major, “and to-day I actually found Car'line at a spinning wheel on + the back flagstones. There's not the faintest doubt in my mind that if + Molly had been placed in the Commissary department our soldiers would be + living to-day on the fat of the land. She has knitted thirty pairs of + socks since spring. Good-by, my dear lady, good-by, and may God sustain + you in your double affliction.” + </p> + <p> + He crossed the portico, bowed as he descended the steps, and, mounting in + the drive, rode slowly away upon his dappled mare. When he reached the + turnpike he lifted his hat again and passed on at an amble. + </p> + <p> + During the next few months it seemed to Betty that she aged a year each + day. The lines closed and opened round them; troops of blue and gray + cavalrymen swept up and down the turnpike; the pastures were invaded by + each army in its turn, and the hen-house became the spoil of a regiment of + stragglers. Uncle Shadrach had buried the silver beneath the floor of his + cabin, and Aunt Floretta set her dough to rise each morning under a loose + pile of kindling wood. Once a deserter penetrated into Betty's chamber, + and the girl drove him out at the point of an old army pistol, which she + kept upon her bureau. + </p> + <p> + “If you think I am afraid of you come a step nearer,” she had said coolly, + and the man had turned to run into the arms of a Federal officer, who was + sweeping up the stragglers. He was a blue-eyed young Northerner, and for + three days after that he had set a guard upon the portico at Uplands. The + memory of the small white-faced girl, with her big army pistol and the + blazing eyes haunted him from that hour until Appomattox, when he heaved a + sigh of relief and dismissed it from his thoughts. “She would have shot + the rascal in another second,” he said afterward, “and, by George, I wish + she had.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor's wine cellar was emptied long ago, the rare old wine flowing + from broken casks across the hall. + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter?” Mrs. Ambler had asked wearily, watching the red + stream drip upon the portico. “What is wine when our soldiers are starving + for bread? And besides, war lives off the soil, as your father used to + say.” + </p> + <p> + Betty lifted her skirts and stepped over the bright puddles, glancing + disdainfully after the Hessian stragglers, who went singing down the + drive. + </p> + <p> + “I hope their officers will get them,” she remarked vindictively, “and the + next time they offer us a guard, I shall accept him for good and all, if + he happens to have been born on American soil. I don't mind Yankees so + much—you can usually quiet them with the molasses jug—but + these foreigners are awful. From a Hessian or a renegade Virginian, good + Lord deliver us.” + </p> + <p> + “Some of them have kind hearts,” remarked Mrs. Ambler, wonderingly. “I + don't see how they can bear to come down to fight us. The Major met + General McClellan, you know, and he admitted afterwards that he shouldn't + have known from his manner that he was not a Southern gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope he has left us a shoulder of bacon in the smokehouse,” + replied Betty, laughing. “You haven't eaten a mouthful for two days, + mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't feel that I have a right to eat, my dear,” said Mrs. Ambler. “It + seems a useless extravagance when every little bit helps the army.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can't support the army, but I mean to feed you,” returned Betty + decisively, and she went out to ask Hosea if he had found a new hiding + place for the cattle. Except upon the rare mornings when Mr. Bill left his + fishing, the direction of the farm had fallen entirely upon Betty's + shoulders. Wilson, the overseer, was in the army, and Hosea had gradually + risen to take his place. “We must keep things up,” the girl had insisted, + “don't let us go to rack and ruin—papa would have hated it so,” and, + with the negro's aid, she had struggled to keep up the common tenor of the + old country life. + </p> + <p> + Rising at daybreak, she went each morning to overlook the milking of the + cows, hidden in their retreat among the hills; and as the sun rose higher, + she came back to start the field hands to the ploughing and the women to + the looms in one of the detached wings. Then there was the big storehouse + to go into, the rations of the servants to be drawn from their secret + corners, the meal to be measured, and the bacon to be sliced with the care + which fretted her lavish hands. After this there came the shucking of the + corn, a negro frolic even in war years, so long as there was any corn to + shuck, and lastly the counting of the full bags of grain before the heavy + wagon was sent to the little mill beside the river. From sunrise to sunset + the girl's hands were not idle for an instant, and in the long evenings, + by the light of the home-made tallow dips, which served for candles, she + would draw out a gray yarn stocking and knit busily for the army, while + she tried, with an aching heart, to cheer her mother. Her sunny humour had + made play of a man's work as of a woman's anxiety. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, on bright mornings, Mr. Bill would stroll over with his rod + upon his shoulder and a string of silver perch in his hand. He had grown + old and very feeble, and his angling had become a passion mightier than an + army with bayonets. He took small interest in the war—at times he + seemed almost unconscious of the suffering around him—but he enjoyed + his chats with Union officers upon the road, who occasionally capped his + stories of big sport with tales of mountain trout which they had drawn + from Northern streams. He would sit for hours motionless under the willows + by the river, and once when his house was fired, during a raid up the + valley, he was heard to remark regretfully that the messenger had “scared + away his first bite in an hour.” Placid, wide-girthed, dull-faced, + innocent as a child, he sat in the midst of war dangling his line above + the silver perch. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. — THE PEACEFUL SIDE OF WAR + </h2> + <p> + On a sparkling January morning, when Lee's army had gone into winter + quarters beside the Rappahannock, Dan stood in the doorway of his log hut + smoking the pipe of peace, while he watched a messmate putting up a + chimney of notched sticks across the little roadway through the pines. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better get Pinetop to daub your chinks for you,” he suggested. “He + can make a mixture of wet clay and sandstone that you couldn't tell from + mortar.” + </p> + <p> + “You jest wait till I git through these shoes an' I'll show you,” remarked + Pinetop, from the woodpile, where he was making moccasins of untanned beef + hide laced with strips of willow. “I ain't goin' to set my bar' feet on + this frozen groun' agin, if I can help it. 'Tain't so bad in summer, but, + I d'clar it takes all the spirit out of a fight when you have to run + bar-footed over the icy stubble.” + </p> + <p> + “Jack Powell lost his shoes in the battle of Fredericksburg,” said Baker, + as he carefully fitted his notched sticks together. “That's why he got + promoted, I reckon. He stepped into a mud puddle, and his feet came out + but his shoes didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I dare say, it was cheaper for the Government to give him a title + than a pair of shoes,” observed Dan, cynically. “Why, you are going in for + luxury! Is that pile of oak shingles for your roof? We made ours of rails + covered with pine tags.” + </p> + <p> + “And the first storm that comes along sweeps them off—yes, I know. + By the way, can anybody tell me if there's a farmer with a haystack in + these parts?” + </p> + <p> + “Pinetop got a load about three miles up,” replied Dan, emptying his pipe + against the door sill. “I say, who is that cavalry peacock over yonder? By + George, it's Champe!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it's General Stuart,” suggested Baker witheringly, as Champe came + composedly between the rows of huts, pursued by the frantic jeers of the + assembled infantry. + </p> + <p> + “Take them earrings off yo' heels—take 'em off! Take 'em off!” + yelled the chorus, as his spurs rang on the stones. “My gal she wants 'em—take + 'em off!” + </p> + <p> + “Take those tatters off your backs—take 'em off!” responded Champe, + genial and undismayed, swinging easily along in his worn gray uniform, his + black plume curling over his soft felt hat. + </p> + <p> + As Dan watched him, standing in the doorway, he felt, with a sudden + melancholy, that a mental gulf had yawned between them. The last grim + months which had aged him with experiences as with years, had left Champe + apparently unchanged. All the deeper knowledge, which he had bought with + his youth for the price, had passed over his cousin like the clouds, + leaving him merely gay and kind as he had been of old. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Beau!” called Champe, stretching out his hand as he drew near. “I + just heard you were over here, so I thought I'd take a look. How goes the + war?” + </p> + <p> + Dan refilled his pipe and borrowed a light from Pinetop. + </p> + <p> + “To tell the truth,” he replied, “I have come to the conclusion that the + fun and frolic of war consist in picket duty and guarding mule teams.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, these excessive dissipations have taken up so much of your time + that I've hardly laid eyes on you since you got routed by malaria. Any + news from home?” + </p> + <p> + “Grandma sent me a Christmas box, which she smuggled through, heaven knows + how. We had a jolly dinner that day, and Pinetop and I put on our first + clean clothes for three months. Big Abel got a linsey suit made at + Chericoke—I hope he'll come along in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Beau, Beau!” lamented Champe. “How have the mighty fallen? You aren't + so particular now about wearing only white or black ties, I reckon.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, shoestrings are usually black, I believe,” returned Dan, with a + laugh, raising his hand to his throat. + </p> + <p> + Champe seated himself upon the end of an oak log, and taking off his hat, + ran his hand through his curling hair. “I was at home last summer on a + furlough,” he remarked, “and I declare, I hardly knew the valley. If we + ever come out of this war it will take an army with ploughshares to bring + the soil up again. As for the woods—well, well, we'll never have + them back in our day.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you see Uplands?” asked Dan eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “For a moment. It was hardly safe, you know, so I was at home only a day. + Grandpa told me that the place had lain under a shadow ever since + Virginia's death. She was buried in Hollywood—it was impossible to + bring her through the lines they said—and Betty and Mrs. Ambler have + taken this very hardly.” + </p> + <p> + “And the Governor,” said Dan, with a tremor in his voice as he thought of + Betty. + </p> + <p> + “And Jack Morson,” added Champe, “he fell at Brandy Station when I was + with him. At first he was wounded only slightly, and we tried to get him + to the rear, but he laughed and went straight in again. It was a sabre cut + that finished him at the last.” + </p> + <p> + “He was a first-rate chap,” commented Dan, “but I never knew exactly why + Virginia fell in love with him.” + </p> + <p> + “The other fellow never does. To be quite candid, it is beyond my + comprehension how a certain lady can prefer the infantry to the cavalry—yet + she does emphatically.” + </p> + <p> + Dan coloured. + </p> + <p> + “Was grandpa well?” he inquired lamely. + </p> + <p> + With a laugh Champe flung one leg over the other, and clasped his knee. + </p> + <p> + “It's an ill wind that blows nobody good,” he responded. “Grandpa's + thoughts are so much given to the Yankees that he has become actually + angelic to the rest of us. By the way, do you know that Mr. Blake is in + the army?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” cried Dan, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mean that he really carries a rifle—though he swears he + would if he only had twenty years off his shoulders—but he has + become our chaplain in young Chrysty's place, and the boys say there is + more gun powder in his prayers than in our biggest battery.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never!” exclaimed Dan. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to hear him—it's better than fighting on your own + account. Last Sunday he gave us a prayer in which he said: 'O Lord, thou + knowest that we are the greatest army thou hast ever seen; put forth thy + hand then but a very little and we will whip the earth.' By Jove, you look + cosey here,” he added, glancing into the hut where Dan and Pinetop slept + in bunks of straw. “I hope the roads won't dry before you've warmed your + house.” He shook hands again, and swung off amid the renewed jeers that + issued from the open doorways. + </p> + <p> + Dan watched him until he vanished among the distant pines, and then, + turning, went into the little hut where he found Pinetop sitting before a + rude chimney, which he had constructed with much labour. A small book was + open on his knee, over which his yellow head drooped like a child's, and + Dan saw his calm face reddened by the glow of the great log fire. + </p> + <p> + “Hello! What's that?” he inquired lightly. + </p> + <p> + The mountaineer started from his abstraction, and the blood swept to his + forehead as he rose from the half of a flour barrel upon which he had been + sitting. + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't nothin',” he responded, and as he towered to his great height his + fair curls brushed the ceiling of crossed rails. In his awkwardness the + book fell to the floor, and before he could reach it, Dan had stooped, + with a laugh, and picked it up. + </p> + <p> + “I say, there are no secrets in this shebang,” he said smiling. Then the + smile went out, and his face grew suddenly grave, for, as the book fell + open in his hand, he saw that it was the first primer of a child, and on + the thumbed and tattered page the word “RAT” stared at him in capital + letters. + </p> + <p> + “By George, man!” he exclaimed beneath his breath, as he turned from + Pinetop to the blazing logs. + </p> + <p> + For the first time in his life he was brought face to face with the + tragedy of hopeless ignorance for an inquiring mind, and the shock stunned + him, at the moment, past the power of speech. Until knowing Pinetop he + had, in the lofty isolation of his class, regarded the plebeian in the + light of an alien to the soil, not as a victim to the kindly society in + which he himself had moved—a society produced by that free labour + which had degraded the white workman to the level of the serf. At the + instant the truth pierced home to him, and he recognized it in all the + grimness of its pathos. Beside that genial plantation life which he had + known he saw rising the wistful figure of the poor man doomed to + conditions which he could not change—born, it may be, like Pinetop, + self-poised, yet with an untaught intellect, grasping, like him, after the + primitive knowledge which should be the birthright of every child. Even + the spectre of slavery, which had shadowed his thoughts, as it had those + of many a generous mind around him, faded abruptly before the very majesty + of the problem that faced him now. In his sympathy for the slave, whose + bondage he and his race had striven to make easy, he had overlooked the + white sharer of the negro's wrong. To men like Pinetop, slavery, stern or + mild, could be but an equal menace, and yet these were the men who, when + Virginia called, came from their little cabins in the mountains, who tied + the flint-locks upon their muskets and fought uncomplainingly until the + end. Not the need to protect a decaying institution, but the instinct in + every free man to defend the soil, had brought Pinetop, as it had brought + Dan, into the army of the South. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, old man, you haven't been quite fair to me,” said Dan, after + the long silence. “Why didn't you ask me to help you with this stuff?” + </p> + <p> + “Wall, I thought you'd joke,” replied Pinetop blushing, “and I knew yo' + nigger would.” + </p> + <p> + “Joke? Good Lord!” exclaimed Dan. “Do you think I was born with so short a + memory, you scamp? Where are those nights on the way to Romney when you + covered me with your overcoat to keep me from freezing in the snow? Where, + for that matter, is that march in Maryland when Big Abel and you carried + me three miles in your arms after I had dropped delirious by the roadside? + If you thought I'd joke you about this, Pinetop, all I can say is that + you've turned into a confounded fool.” + </p> + <p> + Pinetop came back to the fire and seated himself upon the flour barrel in + the corner. “'Twas this way, you see,” he said, breaking, for the first + time, through his strong mountain reserve. “I al'ays thought I'd like to + read a bit, 'specially on winter evenings at home, when the nights are + long and you don't have to git up so powerful early in the mornings, but + when I was leetle thar warn't nobody to teach me how to begin; maw she + didn't know nothin' an' paw he was dead, though he never got beyond the + first reader when he was 'live.” + </p> + <p> + He looked up and Dan nodded gravely over his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Then when I got bigger I had to work mighty hard to keep things goin'—an' + it seemed to me every time I took out that thar leetle book at night I got + so dead sleepy I couldn't tell one letter from another; A looked jest like + Z.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said Dan quietly. “Well, there's time enough here anyhow. It will + be a good way to pass the evenings.” He opened the primer and laid it on + his knee, running his fingers carelessly through its dog-eared pages. “Do + you know your letters?” he inquired in a professional tone. + </p> + <p> + “Lordy, yes,” responded Pinetop. “I've got about as fur as this here + place.” He crossed to where Dan sat and pointed with a long forefinger to + the printed words, his mild blue eyes beaming with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon I kin read that by myself,” he added with an embarrassed laugh. + “T-h-e c-a-t c-a-u-g-h-t t-h-e r-a-t. Ain't that right?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly. We'll pass on to the next.” And they did so, sitting on the + halves of a divided flour barrel before the blazing chimney. + </p> + <p> + From this time there were regular lessons in the little hut, Pinetop + drawling over the soiled primer, or crouching, with his long legs twisted + under him and his elbows awkwardly extended, while he filled a sheet of + paper with sprawling letters. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be able to write to the old woman soon,” he chuckled jubilantly, + “an' she'll have to walk all the way down the mounting to git it read.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll be a scholar yet if this keeps up,” replied Dan, slapping him upon + the shoulder, as the mountaineer glanced up with a pleased and shining + face. “Why, you mastered that first reader there in no time.” + </p> + <p> + “A powerful heap of larnin' has to pass through yo' head to git a leetle + to stick thar,” commented Pinetop, wrinkling his brows. “Air we goin' to + have the big book agin to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “The big book” was a garbled version of “Les Miserables,” which, after + running the blockade with a daring English sailor, had passed from + regiment to regiment in the resting army. At first Dan had begun to read + with only Pinetop for a listener, but gradually, as the tale unfolded, a + group of eager privates filled the little hut and even hung breathlessly + about the doorway in the winter nights. They were mostly gaunt, unwashed + volunteers from the hills or the low countries, to whom literature was + only a vast silence and life a courageous struggle against greater odds. + To Dan the picturesqueness of the scene lent itself with all the force of + its strong lights and shadows, and with the glow of the pine torches on + the open page, his eyes would sometimes wander from the words to rest upon + the kindling faces in the shaggy circle by the fire. Dirty, hollow-eyed, + unshaven, it sat spellbound by the magic of the tale it could not read. + </p> + <p> + “By Gosh! that's a blamed good bishop,” remarked an unkempt smoker one + evening from the threshold, where his beef-hide shoes were covered with + fine snow. “I don't reckon Marse Robert could ha' beat that.” + </p> + <p> + “Marse Robert ain't never tried,” put in a companion by the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Wall, I ain't sayin' he had,” corrected the first speaker, through a + cloud of smoke. “Lord, I hope when my time comes I kin slip into heaven on + Marse Robert's coat-tails.” + </p> + <p> + “If you don't, you won't never git thar!” jeered the second. Then they + settled themselves again, and listened with sombre faces and twitching + lips. + </p> + <p> + It was during this winter that Dan learned how one man's influence may + fuse individual and opposing wills into a single supreme endeavour. The + Army of Northern Virginia, as he saw it then, was moulded, sustained, and + made effective less by the authority of the Commander than by the simple + power of Lee over the hearts of the men who bore his muskets. For a time + Dan had sought to trace the groundspring of this impassioned loyalty, + seeking a reason that could not be found in generals less beloved. Surely + it was not the illuminated figure of the conqueror, for when had the + Commander held closer the affection of his troops than in that ill-starred + campaign into Maryland, which left the moral victory of a superb fight in + McClellan's hands? No, the charm lay deeper still, beyond all the + fictitious aids of fortune—somewhere in that serene and noble + presence he had met one evening as the gray dusk closed, riding alone on + an old road between level fields. After this it was always as a high + figure against a low horizon that he had seen the man who made his army. + </p> + <p> + As the long winter passed away, he learned, not only much of the spirit of + his own side, but something that became almost a sunny tolerance, of the + great blue army across the Rappahannock. He had exchanged Virginian + tobacco for Northern coffee at the outposts, and when on picket duty along + the cold banks of the river he would sometimes shout questions and replies + across the stream. In these meetings there was only a wide curiosity with + little bitterness; and once a friendly New England picket had delivered a + religious homily from the opposite shore, as he leaned upon his rifle. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't think much of you Rebs before I came down here,” he had + concluded in a precise and energetic shout, “but I guess, after all, + you've got souls in your bodies like the rest of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon we have. Any coffee over your side?” + </p> + <p> + “Plenty. The war's interfered considerably with the tobacco crop, ain't + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather; we've enough for ourselves, but none to offer our + visitors.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, are all these things about you in the papers gospel truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't say. What things?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you always carry bowie knives into battle?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we use scissors—they're more convenient.” + </p> + <p> + “When you catch a runaway nigger do you chop him up in little pieces and + throw him to the hogs?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly. We boil him down and grease our cartridges.” + </p> + <p> + “After Bull Run did you set up all the live Zouaves you got hold of as + targets for rifle practice?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't remember about the Zouaves. Rather think we made them into flags.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you Rebels take the breath out of me,” commented the picket across + the river; and then, as the relief came, Dan hurried back to look for the + mail bag and a letter from Betty. For Betty wrote often these days—letters + sometimes practical, sometimes impassioned, always filled with cheer, and + often with bright gossip. Of her own struggle at Uplands and the long days + crowded with work, she wrote no word; all her sympathy, all her large + passion, and all her wise advice in little matters were for Dan from the + beginning to the end. She made him promise to keep warm if it were + possible, to read his Bible when he had the time, and to think of her at + all hours in every season. In a neat little package there came one day a + gray knitted waistcoat which he was to wear when on picket duty beside the + river, “and be very sure to fasten it,” she had written. “I have sewed the + buttons on so tight they can't come off. Oh, if I had only papa and + Virginia and you back again I could be happy in a hovel. Dear mamma says + so, too.” + </p> + <p> + And after much calm advice there would come whole pages that warmed him + from head to foot. “Your kisses are still on my lips,” she wrote one day. + “The Major said to me, 'Your mouth is very warm, my dear,' and I almost + answered, 'you feel Dan's kisses, sir.' What would he have said, do you + think? As it was I only smiled and turned away, and longed to run straight + to you to be caught up in your arms and held there forever. O my beloved, + when you need me only stretch out your hands and I will come.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. — THE SILENT BATTLE + </h2> + <p> + Despite the cheerfulness of Betty's letters, there were times during the + next dark years when it seemed to her that starvation must be the only + end. The negroes had been freed by the Governor's will, but the girl could + not turn them from their homes, and, with the exception of the few field + hands who had followed the Union army, they still lived in their little + cabins and drew their daily rations from the storehouse. Betty herself + shared their rations of cornmeal and bacon, jealously guarding her small + supplies of milk and eggs for Mrs. Ambler and the two old ladies. “It + makes no difference what I eat,” she would assure protesting Mammy Riah. + “I am so strong, you see, and besides I really like Aunt Floretta's + ashcakes.” + </p> + <p> + Spring and summer passed, with the ripened vegetables which Hosea had + planted in the garden, and the long winter brought with it the old daily + struggle to make the slim barrels of meal last until the next harvesting. + It was in this year that the four women at Uplands followed the Major's + lead and invested their united fortune in Confederate bonds. “We will rise + or fall with the government,” Mrs. Ambler had said with her gentle + authority. “Since we have given it our best, let it take all freely.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely money is of no matter,” Betty had answered, lavishly disregardful + of worldly goods. “Do you think we might give our jewels, too? I have + grandma's pearls hidden beneath the floor, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “If need be—let us wait, dear,” replied her mother, who, grave and + pallid as a ghost, would eat nothing that, by any chance, could be made to + reach the army. + </p> + <p> + “I do not want it, my child, there are so many hungrier than I,” she would + say when Betty brought her dainty little trays from the pantry. + </p> + <p> + “But I am hungry for you, mamma—take it for my sake,” the girl would + beg, on the point of tears. “You are starving, that is it—and yet it + does not feed the army.” + </p> + <p> + In these days it seemed to her that all the anguish of her life had + centred in the single fear of losing her mother. At times she almost + reproached herself with loving Dan too much, and for months she would + resolutely keep her thoughts from following him, while she laid her + impassioned service at her mother's feet. Day or night there was hardly a + moment when she was not beside her, trying, by very force of love, to hold + her back from the death to which she went with her slow and stately tread. + </p> + <p> + For Mrs. Ambler, who had kept her strength for a year after the Governor's + death, seemed at last to be gently withdrawing from a place in which she + found herself a stranger. There was nothing to detain her now; she was too + heartsick to adapt herself to many changes; loss and approaching poverty + might be borne by one for whom the chief thing yet remained, but she had + seen this go, and so she waited, with her pensive smile, for the moment + when she too might follow. If Betty were not looking she would put her + untasted food aside; but the girl soon found this out, and watched her + every mouthful with imploring eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mamma, do it to please me,” she entreated. + </p> + <p> + “Well, give it back, my dear,” Mrs. Ambler answered, complaisant as + always, and when Betty triumphantly declared, “You feel better now—you + know you do, you dearest,” she responded readily:— + </p> + <p> + “Much better, darling; give me some straw to plait—I have grown to + like to have my hands busy. Your old bonnet is almost gone, so I shall + plait you one of this and trim it with a piece of ribbon Aunt Lydia found + yesterday in the attic.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind going bareheaded, if you will only eat.” + </p> + <p> + “I was never a hearty eater. Your father used to say that I ate less than + a robin. It was the custom for ladies to have delicate appetites in my + day, you see; and I remember your grandma's amazement when Miss Pokey + Mickleborough was asked at our table what piece of chicken she preferred, + and answered quite aloud, 'Leg, if you please.' She was considered very + indelicate by your grandma, who had never so much as tasted any part + except the wing.” + </p> + <p> + She sat, gentle and upright, in her rosewood chair, her worn silk dress + rustling as she crossed her feet, her beautiful hands moving rapidly with + the straw plaiting. “I was brought up very carefully, my dear,” she added, + turning her head with its shining bands of hair a little silvered since + the beginning of the war. “'A girl is like a flower,' your grandpa always + said. 'If a rough wind blows near her, her bloom is faded.' Things are + different now—very different.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is war,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler nodded over the slender braid. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, this is war,” she added with her wistful smile, and a moment + afterward looked up again to ask in a dazed way:— + </p> + <p> + “What was the last battle, dear? I can't remember.” + </p> + <p> + Betty's glance sought the lawn outside where the warm May sunshine fell in + shafts of light upon the purple lilacs. + </p> + <p> + “They are fighting now in the Wilderness,” she answered, her thoughts + rushing to the famished army closed in the death grapple with its enemy. + “Dan got a letter to me and he says it is like fighting in a jungle, the + vines are so thick they can't see the other side. He has to aim by ear + instead of sight.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler's fingers moved quickly. + </p> + <p> + “He has become a very fine man,” she said. “Your father always liked him—and + so did I—but at one time we were afraid that he was going to be too + much his father's son—he looked so like him on his wild days, + especially when he had taken wine and his colour went high.” + </p> + <p> + “But he has the Lightfoot eyes. The Major, Champe, even their Great-aunt + Emmeline have those same gray eyes that are always laughing.” + </p> + <p> + “Jane Lightfoot had them, too,” added Mrs. Ambler. “She used to say that + to love hard went with them. 'The Lightfoot eyes are never disillusioned,' + she once told me. I wonder if she remembered that afterwards, poor girl.” + </p> + <p> + Betty was silent for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “It sounds cruel,” she confessed, “but you know, I have sometimes thought + that it may have been just a little bit her fault, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler smiled. “Your grandpa used to say 'get a woman to judge a + woman and there comes a hanging.'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mean that,” responded Betty, blushing. “Jack Montjoy was a + scoundrel, I suppose—but I think that even if Dan had been a + scoundrel, instead of so big and noble—I could have made his life so + much better just because I loved him; if love is only large enough it + seems to me that all such things as being good and bad are swallowed up.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know—your father was very good, and I loved him because of + it. He was of the salt of the earth, as Mr. Blake wrote to me last year.” + </p> + <p> + “There has never been anybody like papa,” said Betty, her eyes filling. + “Not even Dan—for I can't imagine papa being anything but what he + was—and yet I know even if Dan were as wild as the Major once + believed him to be, I could have gone with him not the least bit afraid. I + was so sure of myself that if he had beaten me he could not have broken my + spirit. I should always have known that some day he would need me and be + sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Tender, pensive, bred in the ancient ways, Mrs. Ambler looked up at her + and shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “You are very strong, my child,” she answered, “and I think it makes us + all lean too much upon you.” + </p> + <p> + Taking her hand, Betty kissed each slender finger. “I lean on you for the + best in life, mamma,” she answered, and then turned to the window. “It's + my working time,” she said, “and there is poor Hosea trying to plough + without horses. I wonder how he'll manage it.” + </p> + <p> + “Are all the horses gone, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “All except Prince Rupert and papa's mare. Peter keeps them hidden in the + mountains, and I carried them the last two apples yesterday. Prince Rupert + knew me in the distance and whinnied before Peter saw me. Now I'll send + Aunt Lydia to you, dearest, while I see about the weaving. Mammy Riah has + almost finished my linsey dress.” She kissed her again and went out to + where the looms were working in one of the detached wings. + </p> + <p> + The summer went by slowly. The famished army fell back inch by inch, and + at Uplands the battle grew more desperate with the days. Without horses it + was impossible to plant the crops and on the open turnpike swept by bands + of raiders as by armies, it was no less impossible to keep the little that + was planted. Betty, standing at her window in the early mornings, would + glance despairingly over the wasted fields and the quiet little cabins, + where the negroes were stirring about their work. Those little cabins, + forming a crescent against the green hill, caused her an anxiety before + which her own daily suffering was of less account. When the time came that + was fast approaching, and the secret places were emptied of their last + supplies, where could those faithful people turn in their distress? The + question stabbed her like a sword each morning before she put on her + bonnet of plaited straw and ran out to make her first round of the farm. + Behind her cheerful smile there was always the grim fear growing sharper + every hour. + </p> + <p> + Then on a golden summer afternoon, when the larder had been swept by a + band of raiders, she became suddenly aware that there was nothing in the + house for her mother's supper, and, with the army pistol in her hand, set + out across the fields for Chericoke. As she walked over the sunny meadows, + the shadow that was always lifted in Mrs. Ambler's presence fell heavily + upon her face and she choked back a rising sob. What would the end be? she + asked herself in sudden anguish, or was this the end? + </p> + <p> + Reaching Chericoke she found Mrs. Lightfoot and Aunt Rhody drying sliced + sweet potatoes on boards along the garden fence, where the sunflowers and + hollyhocks flaunted in the face of want. + </p> + <p> + “I've just gotten a new recipe for coffee, child,” the old lady began in + mild excitement. “Last year I made it entirely of sweet potatoes, but Mrs. + Blake tells me that she mixes rye and a few roasted chestnuts. Mr. + Lightfoot took supper with her a week ago, and he actually congratulated + her upon still keeping her real old Mocha. Be sure to try it.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I shall—the very next time Hosea gets any sweet potatoes. + Some raiders have just dug up the last with their sabres and eaten them + raw.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they'll certainly have colic,” remarked Mrs. Lightfoot, with + professional interest. + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” said Betty, “but I've come over to beg something for mamma's + supper—eggs, chickens, anything except bacon. She can't touch that, + she'd starve first.” + </p> + <p> + Looking anxious, Mrs. Lightfoot appealed to Aunt Rhody, who was busily + spreading little squares of sweet potatoes on the clean boards. “Rhody, + can't you possibly find us some eggs?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Rhody stopped her work and turned upon them all the dignity of two + hundred pounds of flesh. + </p> + <p> + “How de hens gwine lay w'en dey's done been eaten up?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't there a single chicken left?” hopelessly persisted the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “Who gwine lef' 'em? Ain' dose low-lifeted sodgers dat rid by yestiddy + done stole de las' one un 'um off de nes'?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot sternly remonstrated. + </p> + <p> + “They were our own soldiers, Rhody, and they don't steal—they merely + take.” + </p> + <p> + “I don' see de diffunce,” sniffed Aunt Rhody. “All I know is dat dey + pulled de black hen plum off de nes' whar she wuz a-settin'. Den des now + de Yankees come a-prancin' up en de ducks tuck ter de water en de Yankees + dey went a-wadin' atter dem. Yes, Lawd, dey went a-wadin' wid dey shoes + on.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady sighed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid there's nothing, Betty,” she said, “though Congo has gone to + town to see if he can find any fowls, and I'll send some over if he brings + them. We had a Sherman pudding for dinner ourselves, and I know the + sorghum in it will give the Major gout for a month. Well, well, this is + war, I reckon, and I must say, for my part, I never expected it to be + conducted like a flirtation behind a fan.” + </p> + <p> + “I nuver seed no use a-fittin' unless you is gwine ter fit in de yuther + pusson's yawd,” interpolated Aunt Rhody. “De way ter fit is ter keep + a-sidlin' furder f'om yo' own hen roos' en nigher ter de hen roos' er de + somebody dat's a-fittin' you.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, Rhody,” retorted Mrs. Lightfoot, and then drew Betty a + little to one side. “I have some port wine, my dear,” she whispered, + “which Cupid buried under the old asparagus bed, and I'll tell him to dig + up several bottles and take them to you. The other servants don't know of + it, so I can't get it out till after dark. Poor Julia! how does she stand + these terrible days?” + </p> + <p> + Betty's lips quivered. “I have to force her to eat,” she replied, “and it + seems almost cruel—she is so tired of life.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, my dear,” responded the old lady, wiping her eyes; “and we have + our troubles, too. Champe is in prison now, and Mr. Lightfoot is very much + upset. He says this General Grant is not like the others, that he knows + him—and he's the kind to hang on as long as he's alive.” + </p> + <p> + “But we must win in the end,” said Betty, desperately; “we have sacrificed + so much, how can it all be lost?” + </p> + <p> + “That's what Mr. Lightfoot says—we'll win in the end, but the end's + a long way off. By the way, did you know that Car'line had run off after + the Yankees? When I think how that girl had been spoiled!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish they'd all go,” returned Betty. “All except Mammy and Uncle + Shadrach and Hosea—and even they make starvation that much nearer.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shan't starve yet awhile, dear; I'm in hopes that Congo will + ransack the town. If you would only stay.” + </p> + <p> + But Betty shook her head and went back across the meadows, walking rapidly + through the lush grass of the deserted pastures. Her mind was so filled + with Mrs. Lightfoot's forebodings, that when, in climbing the low stone + wall, she saw the free negro, Levi, coming toward her, she turned to him + with a gesture that was almost an appeal for sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Levi, these are sad times now,” she said. “I am looking for + something for mamma's supper and I can find nothing.” + </p> + <p> + The old negro, shabbier, lonelier, poorer than ever, shambled up to the + wall where she was standing and uncovered a split basket full of eggs. + </p> + <p> + “I'se got a pa'cel er hens hid in de woods over yonder,” he explained, “en + I keep de eggs behin' de j'ists in my cabin. Sis Floretty she tole me dat + de w'ite folks wuz wuss off den de niggers now, so I brung you dese.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Uncle Levi!” cried Betty, seizing his gnarled old hands. As she + looked at his stricken figure a compassion as acute as pain brought the + quick tears to her eyes. She remembered the isolation of his life, the + scornful suspicion he had met from white and black, and the injustice that + had set him free and sold Sarindy up the river. + </p> + <p> + “You wuz moughty good ter me,” muttered free Levi, shuffling his bare feet + in the long grass, “en Marse Dan, he wuz moughty good ter me, too, 'fo' he + went away on dat black night. I 'members de time w'en dat ole Rainy-day + Jones up de big road (we all call him Rainy-day caze he looked so sour) + had me right by de collar wid de hick'ry branch a sizzlin' in de a'r, en I + des 'lowed de een had mos' come. Yes, Lawd, I did, but I warn' countin' on + Marse Dan. He warn' mo'n wais' high ter ole Rainy-day, but de furs' thing + I know dar wuz ole Rainy-day on de yerth wid Marse Dan a-lashin' 'im wid + de branch er hick'ry.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall never forget you—Dan and I,” answered Betty, as she took + the basket, “and when the time comes we will repay you.” + </p> + <p> + The old negro smiled and turned from her, and Betty, quickening her pace, + ran on to Uplands, reaching the house a little breathless from the long + walk. + </p> + <p> + In the chamber upstairs she found Mrs. Ambler sitting before the window + with her open Bible on the sill, where a spray of musk roses entered from + the outside wall. + </p> + <p> + “All well, mamma?” she asked in a cheerful voice. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ambler started and turned slowly from the window. + </p> + <p> + “I see a great light on the road,” she murmured wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + Crossing to where she sat, Betty leaned out above the climbing roses and + glanced to the mountains huddled against the sky. + </p> + <p> + “It is General Sheridan going up the valley,” she said. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. — THE LAST STAND + </h2> + <p> + In the face of a damp April wind a remnant of Lee's army pushed forward + along an old road skirted by thin pine woods. As the column moved on + slowly, it threw out skirmishers on either flank, where the Federal + cavalry hovered in the distance. Once in an open clearing it formed into a + hollow square and marched in battle line to avoid capture. While the + regiments kept in motion the men walked steadily in the ranks, with their + hollowed eyes staring straight ahead from their gaunt, tanned faces; but + at the first halt they fell like logs upon the roadside, sleeping amid the + sound of shots and the stinging cavalry. With the cry of “Forward!” they + struggled to their feet again, and went stumbling on into the vast + uncertainty and the approaching night. Breathless, starving, with their + rags pinned together, and their mouths bleeding from three days' rations + of parched corn, they still kept onward, marching with determined eyes to + whatever and wherever the end might be. Petersburg had fallen, Richmond + was in flames behind them, the Confederacy was, perhaps, buried in the + ruins of its Capitol, but Lee was still somewhere to the front, so his + army followed. + </p> + <p> + “How long have we been marching, boys? I can't remember,” asked Dan, when, + after a short rest, they formed again and started forward over the old + road. In the tatters of his gray uniform, with his broken shoes tied on + his feet and his black hair hanging across his eyes, he might have been + one of the beggars who warm themselves in the sun of Southern countries. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I reckon we left the Garden of Eden about six thousand years ago,” + responded a wag from somewhere—he was too tired to recognize the + voice. “There! the skirmishers have struck that blamed cavalry again. + Plague them! They're as bad as wasps!” + </p> + <p> + “Has anybody some parched corn?” inquired Bland, plaintively. “I'll trade + a whole raw ear for it. It makes my gums bleed so, I can't chew it.” + </p> + <p> + Dan plunged his hand into his pocket, and drew out the corn which he had + shelled and parched at the last halt. As he exchanged it for the “whole + raw ear,” he fell to wondering vaguely what had become of Big Abel since + that dim point in eternity when they had left the trenches that surrounded + Petersburg. Then time was divided into periods of nights and days, now + night and day alike were made up in breathless marching, in throwing out + skirmishers against those “wasps” of cavalrymen, and in trying to force + aching teeth to grind parched corn. Panting and sick with hunger, he + struggled on like a driven beast that sees the place ahead, where he must + turn and grapple for the end with the relentless hunter on his track. + </p> + <p> + As the day ended the moist wind gathered strength and sang in his ears as + he crept forward—now sleeping, now waking, for a time filled with + warm memories of his college life, and again fighting over the last + hopeless campaign from the Wilderness to the trenches where Petersburg had + fallen. They had yielded step by step, but the great hunter had pressed + on, and now the thin brigades were gathering for the last stand together. + </p> + <p> + Overhead he heard the soughing of the pines, and around him the steady + tramp of feet too tired to lift themselves from out the heavy mud. + Straight above in the muffled sky a star shone dimly, and for a time he + watched it in his effort to keep awake. Then he began on the raw corn in + his pocket, shelling it from the cob as he walked along; but when the + taste of blood rose to his lips, he put the ear away again, and stooped to + rub his eyes with a handful of damp earth. Then, at last, in sheer + desperation, he loosened the grip upon his thoughts, and stumbled on, + between waking and sleeping, into the darkness that lay ahead. + </p> + <p> + In the road before him the door at Chericoke opened wide as on the old + Christmas Eves, and he saw the Major and the Governor draining their + glasses under the garlands of mistletoe and holly, while Betty and + Virginia, in dresses of white tarleton, stood against the ruddy glow that + filled the panelled parlour. The cheerful Christmas smell was in the air—the + smell of apple toddy, of roasted turkey, of plum pudding in a blaze of + alcohol. As he entered after his long ride from college, Betty came up to + him and slipped a warm white hand into his cold one, while he met the + hazel beams from beneath her lashes. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you have brought Jack Morson,” she said. “Virginia is waiting. See + how lovely she looks in her white flounces, with the string of coral about + her neck.” + </p> + <p> + “But the war, Betty?” he asked, with blinking eyes, and as he put out his + hand to touch the pearls upon her bosom, he saw that it was whole again—no + wound was there, only the snowflakes that fell from his sleeve upon her + breast. “What of the war, dear? I must go back to the army.” + </p> + <p> + Betty laughed long and merrily. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you're dreaming, Dan,” she said. “It all comes of those wicked + stories of the Major's. In a moment you will believe that this is really + 1812, and you've gone without your rations.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God!” he cried aloud, and the sound of his own voice woke him, as + he slipped and went down in a mudhole upon the road. The Christmas smell + faded from his nostrils; in its place came the smoke from Pinetop's pipe—a + faithful friend until the last. Overhead the star was still shining, and + to the front he heard a single shot from the hovering cavalry, withdrawing + for the night. + </p> + <p> + “God damn this mud!” called a man behind him, as he lurched sideways from + the ranks. Farther away three hoarse voices, the remnant of a once famous + glee club, were singing in the endeavour to scare off sleep:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Rally round the flag, boys, rally once again!” + </pre> + <p> + And suddenly he was fighting in the tangles of the Wilderness, crouching + behind a charred oak stump, while he loaded and fired at the little puffs + of smoke that rose from the undergrowth beyond. He saw the low marshland, + the stunted oaks and pines, and the heavy creepers that were pushed aside + and trampled underfoot, and at his feet he saw a company officer with a + bullet hole through his forehead and a covering of pine needles upon his + face. About him the small twigs fell, as if a storm swept the forest, and + as he dodged, like a sharpshooter from tree to tree, he saw a rush of + flame and smoke in the distance where the woods were burning. Above the + noise of the battle, he heard the shrieks of the wounded men in the track + of the fire; and once he met a Union and a Confederate soldier, each shot + through the leg, drawing each other back from the approaching flames. + Then, as he passed on, tearing at the cartridges with his teeth, he came + upon a sergeant in Union clothes, sitting against a pine stump with his + cocked rifle in his hand, and his eyes on the wind-blown smoke. A moment + before the man may have gone down at his shot, he knew—and yet, as + he looked, an instinct stronger than the instinct to kill was alive within + him, and he rushed on, dragging his enemy with him from the terrible + woods. “I hope you are not much hurt,” he said, as he placed him on the + ground and ran back to where the line was charging. “One life has been + paid for,” he thought, as he rushed on to kill—and fell face + downward on the wheel-ruts of the old road. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,” + </pre> + <p> + sang the three hoarse voices, straining against the wind. + </p> + <p> + Dan struggled to his feet, and the scene shifted. + </p> + <p> + He was back in his childhood, and the Major had just brought in a slave he + had purchased from Rainy-day Jones—“the plague spot in the county,” + as the angry old gentleman declared. + </p> + <p> + Dan sat on the pile of kindling wood upon the kitchen hearth and stared at + the poor black creature shivering in the warmth, his face distorted with + the toothache, and a dirty rag about his jaw. He heard Aunt Rhody snorting + indignantly as she basted the turkeys, and he watched his grandmother + bustling back and forth with whiskey and hot plasters. + </p> + <p> + “Who made slavery, sir?” asked the boy suddenly, his hands in his breeches + pockets and his head bent sideways. + </p> + <p> + The Major started. + </p> + <p> + “God, sir,” he promptly replied. + </p> + <p> + “Then I think it very strange of God,” said the boy, “and when I grow up, + I shall set them all free, grandpa—I shall set them free even if I + have to fight to do it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What! like poor free Levi?” stormed the Major. + </p> + <p> + “Wake up, confound you!” bawled somebody in his ear. “You've lurched + against my side until my ribs are sore. I say, are you going on forever, + anyhow? We've halted for the night.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't stop!” cried Dan, groping in the darkness, then he fell heavily + upon the damp ground, while a voice down the road began shouting, “Detail + for guard!” Half asleep and cursing, the men responded to their names and + hurried off, and as the silence closed in, the army slept like a child + upon the roadside. + </p> + <p> + With the first glimmer of dawn they were on the march again, passing all + day through the desolate flat country, where the women ran weeping to the + doorways, and waved empty hands as they went by. Once a girl in a homespun + dress, with a spray of apple blossoms in her black hair, brought out a + wooden bucket filled with buttermilk and passed it along the line. + </p> + <p> + “Fight to the end, boys,” she cried defiantly, “and when the end comes, + keep on fighting. If you go back on Lee there's not a woman in Virginia + will touch your hand.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right, little gal!” shrieked a husky private. “Three cheers for + Marse Robert! an' we'll whip the earth in our bar' feet befo' breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “All the same I wish old Stonewall was along,” muttered Pinetop. “If I + could jest see old Stonewall or his ghost ahead, I'd know thar was an open + road somewhere that Sheridan ain't got his eye on.” + </p> + <p> + As the sun rose high, refugees from Richmond flocked after them to shout + that the town had been fired by the citizens, who had moved, with their + families, to the Capitol Square as the flames spread from the great + tobacco warehouses. Men who had wives and children in the city groaned as + they marched farther from the ashes of their homes, and more than one + staggered back into the ranks and went onward under a heavier burden. + </p> + <p> + “Wall, I reckon things are fur the best—or they ain't.” remarked + Pinetop, in a cheerful tone. “Thar's no goin' agin that, you bet. What's + the row back thar, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + The hovering enemy, grown bolder, had fallen upon the flank, and the + stragglers and the rear guard were beating off the cavalry, when a + regiment was sent back to relieve the pressure. Returning, Pinetop, who + was of the attacking party, fell gravely to moralizing upon the scarcity + of food. + </p> + <p> + “I've tasted every plagued thing that grows in this country except dirt,” + he observed, “an' I'm goin' to kneel down presently and take a good square + mouthful of that.” + </p> + <p> + “That's one thing we shan't run short of,” replied Dan, stepping round a + mud hole. “By George, we've got to march in a square again across this + open. I believe when I set out for heaven, I'll find some of those + confounded Yankee troopers watching the road.” + </p> + <p> + Forming in battle line they advanced cautiously across the clearing, while + the skirmishing grew brisker at the front. That night they halted but once + upon the way, standing to meet attack against a strip of pines, watching + with drawn breath while the enemy crept closer. They heard him in the + woods, felt him in the air, saw him in the darkness—like a gigantic + coil he approached inch by inch for the last struggle. Now and then a shot + rang out, and the little band thrilled to a soldier, and waited + breathlessly for the last charge that might end it all. + </p> + <p> + “There's only one thing worse than starvation, and it's defeat!” cried Dan + aloud; then the column swung on and the cry of “Close up, there! close + up!” mingled in his ears with the steady tramp upon the road. + </p> + <p> + In the early morning the shots grew faster, and as the column stopped in + the cover of a wood, the bullets came singing among the tree-tops, from + the left flank where the skirmishers had struck the enemy. During the + short rest Dan slept leaning against a twisted aspen, and when Pinetop + shook him, he awoke with a dizziness in his head that sent the flat earth + slamming against the sky. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I'm starving, Pinetop,” he said, and his voice rang like a bell + in his ears. “I can't see where to put my feet, the ground slips about + so.” + </p> + <p> + For answer Pinetop felt in his pocket and brought out a slice of fat + bacon, which he gave to him uncooked. + </p> + <p> + “Wait till I git a light,” he commanded. “A woman up the road gave me a + hunk, and I've had my share.” + </p> + <p> + “You've had your share,” repeated Dan, greedily, his eyes on the meat, + though he knew that Pinetop was lying. + </p> + <p> + The mountaineer struck a match and lighted a bit of pine, holding the + bacon to the flame until it scorched. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better git it all in yo' mouth quick,” he advised, “for if the + smell once starts on the breeze the whole brigade will be on the scent in + a minute.” + </p> + <p> + Dan ate it to the last morsel and licked the warm juice from his fingers. + </p> + <p> + “You lied, Pinetop,” he said, “but, by God, you saved my life. What place + is this, I wonder. Isn't there any hope of our cutting through Grant's + lines to-day?” + </p> + <p> + Pinetop glanced about him. + </p> + <p> + “Somebody said we were comin' on to Sailor's Creek,” he answered, “and + it's about as God-forsaken country as I care to see. Hello! what's that?” + </p> + <p> + In the road there was an abandoned battery, cut down and left to rot into + the earth, and as they swept past it at “double quick,” they heard the + sound of rapid firing across the little stream. + </p> + <p> + “It's a fight, thank God!” yelled Pinetop, and at the words a tumultuous + joy urged Dan through the water and over the sharp stones. After all the + hunger and the intolerable waiting, a chance was come for him to use his + musket once again. + </p> + <p> + As they passed through an open meadow, a rabbit, starting suddenly from a + clump of sumach, went bounding through the long grass before the thin gray + line. With ears erect and short white tail bobbing among the broom-sedge, + the little quivering creature darted straight toward the low brow of a + hill, where a squadron of cavalry made a blue patch on the green. + </p> + <p> + “Geriminy! thar goes a good dinner,” Pinetop gasped, smacking his lips. + “An' I've got to save this here load for a Yankee I can't eat.” + </p> + <p> + With a long flying leap the rabbit led the charge straight into the + enemy's ranks, and as the squirrel rifles rang out behind it, a blue + horseman was swept from every saddle upon the hill. + </p> + <p> + “By God, I'm glad I didn't eat that rabbit!” yelled Pinetop, as he + reloaded and raised his musket to his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Back and forth before the line, the general of the brigade was riding + bareheaded and frantic with delight. As he passed he made sweeping + gestures with his left hand, and his long gray hair floated like a banner + upon the wind. + </p> + <p> + “They're coming, men!” he cried. “Get behind that fence and have your + muskets ready to pick your man. When you see the whites of his eyes fire, + and give the bayonet. They're coming! Here they are!” + </p> + <p> + The old “worm” fence went down, and as Dan piled up some loose rails + before him, a creeping brier tore his fingers until the blood spurted upon + his sleeve. Then, kneeling on the ground, he raised his musket and fired + at one of the skirmishers advancing briskly through the broom-sedge. In an + instant the meadow and the hill beyond were blue with swarming infantry, + and the little gray band fell back, step by step, loading and firing as it + went across the field. As the road behind it closed, Dan turned to battle + on his own account, and entering a thinned growth of pines, he dodged from + tree to tree and aimed above the brushwood. Near him the colour bearer of + the regiment was fighting with his flagstaff for a weapon, and out in the + meadow a member of the glee club, crouching behind a clump of sassafras as + he loaded, was singing in a cracked voice:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Rally round the flag, boys, rally once again!” + </pre> + <p> + Then a bullet went with a soft thud into the singer's breast, and the + cracked voice was choked out beneath the bushes. + </p> + <p> + Gripped by a sudden pity for the helpless flag he had loved and followed + for four years, Dan made an impetuous dash from out the pines, and tearing + the colours from the pole, tossed them over his arm as he retreated + rapidly to cover. At the instant he held his life as nothing beside the + faded strip of silk that wrapped about his body. The cause for which he + had fought, the great captain he had followed, the devotion to a single + end which had kept him struggling in the ranks, the daily sacrifice, the + very poverty and cold and hunger, all these were bound up and made one + with the tattered flag upon his arm. Through the belt of pines, down the + muddy road, across the creek and up the long hill, he fell back + breathlessly, loading and firing as he went, with his face turned toward + the enemy. At the end he became like a fox before the hunters, dashing + madly over the rough ground, with the colours blown out behind him, and + the quick shots ringing in his ears. + </p> + <p> + Then, as if by a single stroke, Lee's army vanished from the trampled + broom-sedge and the strip of pines. The blue brigades closed upon the + landscape and when they opened there were only a group of sullen prisoners + and the sound of stray shots from the scattered soldiers who had fought + their way beyond the stream. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. — IN THE HOUR OF DEFEAT + </h2> + <p> + As the dusk fell Dan found himself on the road with a little company of + stragglers, flying from the pursuing cavalry that drew off slowly as the + darkness gathered. He had lost his regiment, and, as he went on, he began + calling out familiar names, listening with strained ears for an answer + that would tell of a friend's escape. At last he caught the outlines of a + gigantic figure relieved on a hillock against the pale green west, and, + with a shout, he hurried through the swarm of fugitives, and overtook + Pinetop, who had stooped to tie his shoe on with a leather strap. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, old man!” he cried. “Where are the others?” + </p> + <p> + Pinetop, panting yet imperturbable, held out a steady hand. + </p> + <p> + “The Lord knows,” he replied. “Some of 'em air here an' some ain't. I was + goin' back agin to git the flag, when I saw you chased like a fox across + the creek with it hangin' on yo' back. Then I kinder thought it wouldn't + do for none of the regiment to answer when Marse Robert called, so I came + along right fast and kep' hopin' you would follow.” + </p> + <p> + “Here I am,” responded Dan, “and here are the colours.” He twined the silk + more closely about his arm, gloating over his treasure in the twilight. + </p> + <p> + Pinetop stretched out his great rough hand and touched the flag as gently + as if it were a woman. + </p> + <p> + “I've fought under this here thing goin' on four years now,” he said, “and + I reckon when they take it prisoner, they take me along with it.” + </p> + <p> + “And me,” added Dan; “poor Granger went down, you know, just as I took it + from him. He fell fighting with the pole.” + </p> + <p> + “Wall, it's a better way than most,” Pinetop replied, “an' when the angel + begins to foot up my account on Jedgment Day, I shouldn't mind his cappin' + the whole list with 'he lost his life, but he didn't lose his flag.' To + make a blamed good fight is what the Lord wants of us, I reckon, or he + wouldn't have made our hands itch so when they touch a musket.” + </p> + <p> + Then they trudged on silently, weak from hunger, sickened by defeat. When, + at last, the disorganized column halted, and the men fell to the ground + upon their rifles, Dan kindled a fire and parched his corn above the + coals. After it was eaten they lay down side by side and slept peacefully + on the edge of an old field. + </p> + <p> + For three days they marched steadily onward, securing meagre rations in a + little town where they rested for a while, and pausing from time to time, + to beat off a feigned attack. Pinetop, cheerful, strong, undaunted by any + hardship, set his face unflinchingly toward the battle that must clear a + road for them through Grant's lines. Had he met alone a squadron of + cavalry in the field, he would, probably, have taken his stand against a + pine, and aimed his musket as coolly as if a squirrel were the mark. With + his sunny temper, and his gloomy gospel of predestination, his heart could + swell with hope even while he fought single-handed in the face of big + battalions. What concerned him, after all, was not so much the chance of + an ultimate victory for the cause, as the determination in his own mind to + fight it out as long as he had a cartridge remaining in his box. As his + fathers had kept the frontier, so he meant, on his own account, to keep + Virginia. + </p> + <p> + On the afternoon of the third day, as the little company drew near to + Appomattox Court House, it found the road blocked with abandoned guns, and + lined by exhausted stragglers, who had gone down at the last halting + place. As it filed into an open field beyond a wooded level, where a few + campfires glimmered, a group of Federal horsemen clattered across the + front, and, as if by instinct, the column formed into battle line, and the + hand of every man was on the trigger of his musket. + </p> + <p> + “Don't fire, you fools!” called an officer behind them, in a voice sharp + with irritation. “The army has surrendered!” + </p> + <p> + “What! Grant surrendered?” thundered the line, with muskets at a trail as + it rushed into the open. + </p> + <p> + “No, you blasted fools—we've surrendered,” shouted the voice, rising + hoarsely in a gasping indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Surrendered, the deuce!” scoffed the men, as they fell back into ranks. + “I'd like to know what General Lee will think of your surrender?” + </p> + <p> + A little Colonel, with his hand at his sword hilt, strutted up and down + before a tangle of dead thistles. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what he thinks of it, he did it,” he shrieked, without + pausing in his walk. + </p> + <p> + “It's a damn lie!” cried Dan, in a white heat. Then he threw his musket on + the ground, and fell to sobbing the dry tearless sobs of a man who feels + his heart crushed by a sudden blow. + </p> + <p> + There were tears on all the faces round him, and Pinetop was digging his + great fists into his eyes, as a child does who has been punished before + his playmates. Beside him a man with an untrimmed shaggy beard hid his + distorted features in shaking hands. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't blubberin' fur myself,” he said defiantly, “but—O Lord, + boys—I'm cryin' fur Marse Robert.” + </p> + <p> + Over the field the beaten soldiers, in ragged gray uniforms, were lying + beneath little bushes of sassafras and sumach, and to the right a few + campfires were burning in a shady thicket. The struggle was over, and each + man had fallen where he stood, hopeless for the first time in four long + years. Up and down the road groups of Federal horsemen trotted with + cheerful unconcern, and now and then a private paused to make a remark in + friendly tones; but the men beneath the bushes only stared with hollow + eyes in answer—the blank stare of the defeated who have put their + whole strength into the fight. + </p> + <p> + Taking out his jack-knife, Dan unfastened the flag from the hickory pole + on which he had placed it, and began cutting it into little pieces, which + he passed to each man who had fought beneath its folds. The last bit he + put into his own pocket, and trembling like one gone suddenly palsied, + passed from the midst of his silent comrades to a pine stump on the border + of the woods. Here he sat down and looked hopelessly upon the scene before + him—upon the littered roads and the great blue lines encircling the + horizon. + </p> + <p> + So this was the end, he told himself, with a bitterness that choked him + like a grip upon the throat, this the end of his boyish ardour, his dream + of fame upon the battle-field, his four years of daily sacrifice and + suffering. This was the end of the flag for which he was ready to give his + life three days ago. With his youth, his strength, his very bread thrown + into the scale, he sat now with wrecked body and blighted mind, and saw + his future turn to decay before his manhood was well begun. Where was the + old buoyant spirit he had brought with him into the fight? Gone forever, + and in its place he found his maimed and trembling hands, and limbs + weakened by starvation as by long fever. His virile youth was wasted in + the slow struggle, his energy was sapped drop by drop; and at the last he + saw himself burned out like the battle-fields, where the armies had closed + and opened, leaving an impoverished and ruined soil. He had given himself + for four years, and yet when the end came he had not earned so much as an + empty title to take home for his reward. The consciousness of a + hard-fought fight was but the common portion of them all, from the + greatest to the humblest on either side. As for him he had but done his + duty like his comrades in the ranks, and by what right of merit should he + have raised himself above their heads? Yes, this was the end, and he meant + to face it standing with his back against the wall. + </p> + <p> + Down the road a line of Federal privates came driving an ox before them, + and he eyed them gravely, wondering in a dazed way if the taste of victory + had gone to their heads. Then he turned slowly, for a voice was speaking + at his side, and a tall man in a long blue coat was building a little fire + hard by. + </p> + <p> + “Your stomach's pretty empty, ain't it, Johnny?” he inquired, as he laid + the sticks crosswise with precise movements, as if he had measured the + length of each separate piece of wood. He was lean and rawboned, with a + shaggy red moustache and a wart on his left cheek. When he spoke he showed + an even row of strong white teeth. + </p> + <p> + Dan looked at him with a kind of exhausted indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's been emptier,” he returned shortly. + </p> + <p> + The man in blue struck a match and held it carefully to a dried pine + branch, watching, with a serious face, as the flame licked the rosin from + the crossed sticks. Then he placed a quart pot full of water on the coals, + and turned to meet Dan's eyes, which had grown ravenous as he caught the + scent of beef. + </p> + <p> + “You see we somehow thought you Johnnies would be hard up,” he said in an + offhand manner, “so we made up our minds we'd ask you to dinner and cut + our rations square. Some of us are driving over an ox from camp, but as I + was hanging round and saw you all by yourself on this old stump, I had a + feeling that you were in need of a cup of coffee. You haven't tasted real + coffee for some time, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + The water was bubbling over and he measured out the coffee and poured it + slowly into the quart cup. As the aroma filled the air, he opened his + haversack and drew out a generous supply of raw beef which he broiled on + little sticks, and laid on a spread of army biscuits. The larger share he + offered to Dan with the steaming pot of coffee. + </p> + <p> + “I declare it'll do me downright good to see you eat,” he said, with a + hospitable gesture. + </p> + <p> + Dan sat down beside the bread and beef, and, for the next ten minutes, ate + like a famished wolf, while the man in blue placidly regarded him. When he + had finished he took out a little bag of Virginian tobacco and they smoked + together beside the waning fire. A natural light returned gradually to + Dan's eyes, and while the clouds of smoke rose high above the bushes, they + talked of the last great battles as quietly as of the Punic Wars. It was + all dead now, as dead as history, and the men who fought had left the + bitterness to the camp followers or to the ones who stayed at home. + </p> + <p> + “You have fine tobacco down this way,” observed the Union soldier, as he + refilled his pipe, and lighted it with an ember. Then his gaze followed + Dan's, which was resting on the long blue lines that stretched across the + landscape. + </p> + <p> + “You're feeling right bad about us now,” he pursued, as he crossed his + legs and leaned back against a pine, “and I guess it's natural, but the + time will come when you'll know that we weren't the worst you had to + face.” + </p> + <p> + Dan held out his hand with something of a smile. + </p> + <p> + “It was a fair fight and I can shake hands,” he responded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't mean that,” said the other thoughtfully. “What I mean is + just this, you mark my words—after the battle comes the vultures. + After the army of fighters comes the army of those who haven't smelled the + powder. And in time you'll learn that it isn't the man with the rifle that + does the most of the mischief. The damned coffee boilers will get their + hands in now—I know 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's nothing left, I suppose, but to swallow it down without any + fuss,” said Dan wearily, looking over the field where the slaughtered ox + was roasting on a hundred bayonets at a hundred fires. + </p> + <p> + “You're right, that's the only thing,” agreed the man in blue; then his + keen gray eyes were on Dan's face. + </p> + <p> + “Have you got a wife?” he asked bluntly. + </p> + <p> + Dan shook his head as he stared gravely at the embers. + </p> + <p> + “A sweetheart, I guess? I never met a Johnnie who didn't have a + sweetheart.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I've a sweetheart—God bless her!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you take my advice and go home and tell her to cure you, now she's + got the chance. I like your face, young man, but if I ever saw a + half-starved and sickly one, it is yours. Why, I shouldn't have thought + you had the strength to raise your rifle.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it doesn't take much strength for that; and besides the coffee did me + good, I was only hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “Hungry, hump!” grunted the Union soldier. “It takes more than hunger to + give a man that blue look about the lips; it takes downright starvation.” + He dived into his haversack and drew out a quinine pill and a little + bottle of whiskey. + </p> + <p> + “If you'll just chuck this down it won't do you any harm,” he went on, + “and if I were you, I'd find a shelter before I went to sleep to-night; + you can't trust April weather. Get into that cow shed over there or under + a wagon.” + </p> + <p> + Dan swallowed the quinine and the whiskey, and as the strong spirit fired + his veins, the utter hopelessness of his outlook muffled him into silence. + Dropping his head into his open palms, he sat dully staring at the + whitening ashes. + </p> + <p> + After a moment the man in blue rose to his feet and fastened his + haversack. + </p> + <p> + “I live up by Bethlehem, New Hampshire,” he remarked, “and if you ever + come that way, I hope you'll look me up; my name's Moriarty.” + </p> + <p> + “Your name's Moriarty, I shall remember,” repeated Dan, trying, with a + terrible effort, to steady his quivering limbs. + </p> + <p> + “Jim Moriarty, don't you forget it. Anybody at Bethlehem can tell you + about me; I keep the biggest store around there.” He went off a few steps + and then came back to hold out an awkward hand in which there was a little + heap of silver. + </p> + <p> + “You'd just better take this to start you on your way,” he said, “it ain't + but ninety-five cents—I couldn't make out the dollar—and when + you get it in again you can send it to Jim Moriarty at Bethlehem, New + Hampshire. Good-by, and good luck to you this time.” + </p> + <p> + He strode off across the field, and Dan, with the silver held close in his + palm, flung himself back upon the ground and slept until Pinetop woke him + with a grasp upon his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Marse Robert's passin' along the road,” he said. “You'd better hurry.” + </p> + <p> + Struggling to his feet Dan rushed from the woods across the deserted + field, to the lines of conquered soldiers standing in battle ranks upon + the roadside. Between them the Commander had passed slowly on his dapple + gray horse, and when Dan joined the ranks it was only in time to see him + ride onward at a walk, with the bearded soldiers clinging like children to + his stirrups. A group of Federal cavalrymen, drawn up beneath a persimmon + tree, uncovered as he went by, and he returned the salute with a simple + gesture. Lonely, patient, confirmed in courtesy, he passed on his way, and + his little army returned to camp in the strip of pines. + </p> + <p> + “'I've done my best for you,' that's what he said,” sobbed Pinetop. “'I've + done my best for you,'—and I kissed old Traveller's mane.” + </p> + <p> + Without replying, Dan went back into the woods and flung himself down on + the spread of tags. Now that the fight was over all the exhaustion of the + last four years, the weakness after many battles, the weariness after the + long marches, had gathered with accumulated strength for the final + overthrow. + </p> + <p> + For three days he remained in camp in the pine woods, and on the third, + after waiting six hours in a hard rain outside his General's tent, he + secured the little printed slip which signified to all whom it might + concern that he had become a prisoner upon his parole. Then, after a + sympathetic word to the rest of the division, shivering beneath the + sassafras bushes before the tent, he shook hands with his comrades under + arms, and started with Pinetop down the muddy road. The war was over, and + footsore, in rags and with aching limbs, he was returning to the little + valley where he had hoped to trail his glory. + </p> + <p> + Down the long road the gray rain fell straight as a curtain, and on either + side tramped the lines of beaten soldiers who were marching, on their word + of honour, to their distant homes. The abandoned guns sunk deep in the + mud, the shivering men lying in rags beneath the bushes, and the charred + remains of campfires among the trees were the last memories Dan carried + from the four years' war. + </p> + <p> + Some miles farther on, when the pickets had been passed, a man on a black + horse rode suddenly from a little thicket and stopped across their path. + </p> + <p> + “You fellows haven't been such darn fools as to give your parole, have + you?” he asked in an angry voice, his hand on his horse's neck. “The fight + isn't over yet and we want your muskets on our side. I belong to the + partisan rangers, and we'll cut through to Johnston's army before + daylight. If not, we'll take to the mountains and keep up the war forever. + The country is ours, what's to hinder us?” + </p> + <p> + He spoke passionately, and at each sharp exclamation the black horse rose + on his haunches and pawed the air. + </p> + <p> + Dan shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'm out on parole,” he replied, “but as soon as I'm exchanged, I'll fight + if Virginia wants me. How about you, Pinetop?” + </p> + <p> + The mountaineer shuffled his feet in the mud and stood solemnly surveying + the landscape. + </p> + <p> + “Wall, I don't understand much about this here parole business,” he + replied. “It seems to me that a slip of paper with printed words on it + that I have to spell out as I go, is a mighty poor way to keep a man from + fightin' if he can find a musket. I ain't steddyin' about this parole, but + Marse Robert told me to go home to plant my crop, and I am goin' home to + plant it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is all over, I think,” said Dan with a quivering lip, as he stared at + the ruined meadows. The smart was still fresh, and it was too soon for him + to add, with the knowledge that would come to him from years,—“it is + better so.” Despite the grim struggle and the wasted strength, despite the + impoverished land and the nameless graves that filled it, despite even his + own wrecked youth and the hard-fought fields where he had laid it down—despite + all these a shadow was lifted from his people and it was worth the price. + </p> + <p> + They passed on, while the black horse pawed the dust, and the rider hurled + oaths at their retreating figures. At a little house a few yards down the + road they stopped to ask for food, and found a woman weeping at the + kitchen table, with three small children clinging to her skirts. Her + husband had fallen at Five Forks, she said, the safe was empty, and the + children were crying for bread. Then Dan slipped into her hand the silver + he had borrowed from the Union soldier, and the two returned penniless to + the road. + </p> + <p> + “At least we are men,” he said almost apologetically to Pinetop, and the + next instant turned squarely in the mud, for a voice from the other side + had called out shrilly:— + </p> + <p> + “Hi, Marse Dan, whar you gwine now?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless my soul, it's Big Abel,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Black as a spade and beaming with delight, the negro emerged from the + swarm upon the roadside and grasped Dan's outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + “Whar you gwine dis away, Marse Dan?” he inquired again. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going home, Big Abel,” responded Dan, as they walked on in a row of + three. “No, don't shout, you scamp; I'd rather lie down and die upon the + roadside than go home like this.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you ain' much to look at, dat's sho',” replied Big Abel, his face + shining like polished ebony, “en I ain' much to look at needer, but dey'll + have ter recollect de way we all wuz befo' we runned away; dey'll have ter + recollect you in yo' fine shuts en fancy waistcoats, en dey'll have ter + recollect me in yo' ole uns. Sakes alive! I kin see dat one er yourn wid + de little bit er flow'rs all over hit des es plain es ef 'twuz yestiddy.” + </p> + <p> + “The waistcoats are all gone now,” said Dan gravely, “and so are the + shirts. The war is over and you are your own master, Big Abel. You don't + belong to me from this time on.” + </p> + <p> + Big Abel shook his head grinning. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon hit's all de same,” he remarked cheerfully, “en I reckon we'd es + well be gwine on home, Marse Dan.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon we would,” said Dan, and they pushed on in silence. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. — ON THE MARCH AGAIN + </h2> + <p> + That night they slept on the blood-stained floor of an old field hospital, + and the next morning Pinetop parted from them and joined an engineer who + had promised him a “lift” toward his mountains. + </p> + <p> + As Dan stood in the sunny road holding his friend's rough hand, it seemed + to him that such a parting was the sharpest wrench the end had brought. + </p> + <p> + “Whenever you need me, old fellow, remember that I am always ready,” he + said in a husky voice. + </p> + <p> + Pinetop looked past him to the distant woods, and his calm blue eyes were + dim. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you'll go yo' way an' I'll go mine,” he replied, “for thar's one + thing sartain an' that is our ways don't run together. It'll never be the + same agin—that's natur—but if you ever want a good stout hand + for any uphill ploughing or shoot yo' man an' the police git on yo' track, + jest remember that I'm up thar in my little cabin. Why, if every officer + in the county was at yo' heels, I'd stand guard with my old squirrel gun + and maw would with her kettle.” + </p> + <p> + Then he shook hands with Big Abel and strode on across a field to a little + railway station, while Dan went slowly down the road with the negro at his + side. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon when they had trudged all the morning through the heavy + mud, they reached a small frame house set back from the road, with some + straggling ailanthus shoots at the front and a pile of newly cut hickory + logs near the kitchen steps. A woman, with a bucket of soapsuds at her + feet, was wringing out a homespun shirt in the yard, and as they entered + the little gate, she looked at them with a defiance which was evidently + the result of a late domestic wrangle. + </p> + <p> + “I've got one man on my hands,” she began in a shrill voice, “an' he's as + much as I can 'tend to, an' a long sight mo' than I care to 'tend to. He + never had the spunk to fight anythin' except his wife, but I reckon he's + better off now than them that had; it's the coward that gets the best of + things in these days.” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up thar, you hussy!” growled a voice from the kitchen, and a fat man + with bleared eyes slouched to the doorway. “I reckon if you want a supper + you can work for it,” he remarked, taking a wad of tobacco from his mouth + and aiming it deliberately at one of the ailanthus shoots. “You split up + that thar pile of logs back thar an' Sally'll cook yo' supper. Thar ain't + another house inside of a good ten miles, so you'd better take your + chance, I reckon.” + </p> + <p> + “That's jest like you, Tom Bates,” retorted the woman passionately. “Befo' + you'd do a lick of honest work you'd let the roof topple plum down upon + our heads.” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Dan's glance cut the man like a whip, then crossing to the + woodpile, he lifted the axe and sent it with a clean stroke into a hickory + log. + </p> + <p> + “We can't starve, Big Abel,” he said coolly, “but we are not beggars yet + by a long way.” + </p> + <p> + “Go 'way, Marse Dan,” protested the negro in disgust. “Gimme dat ar axe en + set right down and wait twel supper. You're des es white es a sheet dis + minute.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got to begin some day,” returned Dan, as the axe swung back across + his shoulder. “I'll pay for my supper and you'll pay for yours, that's + fair, isn't it?—for you're a free man now.” + </p> + <p> + Then he went feverishly to work, while Big Abel sat grumbling on the + doorstep, and the farmer, leaning against the lintel behind him, watched + the lessening pile with sluggish eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You be real careful of this wood, Sally, an' it ought to last twel + summer,” he observed, as he glanced to where his wife stood wringing out + the clothes. “If you warn't so wasteful that last pile would ha' held out + twice as long.” + </p> + <p> + Dan chopped steadily for an hour, and then giving the axe to Big Abel, + went into the little kitchen to eat his supper. The woman served him + sullenly, placing some sobby biscuits and a piece of cold bacon on his + plate, and pouring out a glass of buttermilk with a vicious thrust of the + pitcher. When he asked if there was a shelter close at hand where he might + sleep, she replied sourly that she reckoned the barn was good enough if he + chose to spend the night there. Then as Big Abel finished his job and took + his supper in his hand, they left the house and went across the darkening + cattle pen, to a rotting structure which they took to be the barn. Inside + the straw was warm and dry, and as Dan flung himself down upon it, he + gasped out something like a prayer of thanks. His first day's labour with + his hands had left him trembling like a nervous woman. An hour longer, he + told himself, and he should have gone down upon the roadside. + </p> + <p> + For a time he slept profoundly, and then awaking in the night, he lay + until dawn listening to Big Abel's snores, and staring straight above + where a solitary star shone through a crack in the shingled roof. From the + other side of a thin partition came the soft breathing and the fresh smell + of cows, and, now and then, he heard the low bleating of a new-born calf. + </p> + <p> + He had been dreaming of a battle, and the impression was so vivid that, as + he opened his eyes, he half imagined he still heard the sound of shots. In + his sleep he had saved the flag and won promotion after victory, and for a + moment the trampled straw seemed to him to be the battle-field, and the + thin boards against which he beat the enemy's resisting line. As he came + slowly to himself a sudden yearning for the army awoke within him. He + wanted the red campfires and his comrades smoking against the dim pines; + the peaceful bivouac where the long shadows crept among the trees and two + men lay wrapped together beneath every blanket; above all, he wanted to + see the Southern Cross wave in the sunlight, and to hear the charging yell + as the brigade dashed into the open. He was homesick for it all to-night, + and yet it was dead forever—dead as his own youth which he had given + to the cause. + </p> + <p> + Sharp pains racked him from head to foot, and his pulses burned as if from + fever. It was like the weariness of old age, he thought, this utter + hopelessness, these strained and quivering muscles. As a boy he had been + hardy as an Indian and as fearless of fatigue. Now the long midnight + gallops on Prince Rupert over frozen roads returned to him like the dim + memories from some old romance. They belonged to the place of + half-forgotten stories, with the gay waistcoats and the Christmas + gatherings in the hall at Chericoke. For a country that was not he had + given himself as surely as the men who were buried where they fought, and + his future would be but one long struggle to adjust himself to conditions + in which he had no part. His proper nature was compacted of the old life + which was gone forever—of its ease, of its gayety, of its lavish + pleasures. For the sake of this life he had fought for four years in the + ranks, and now that it was swept away, he found himself like a man who + stumbles on over the graves of his familiar friends. He remembered the + words of the soldier in the long blue coat, and spoke them half aloud in + the darkness: “There'll come a time when you'll find out that the army + wasn't the worst you had to face.” The army was not the worst, he knew + this now—the grapple with a courageous foe had served to quicken his + pulses and nerve his hand—the worst was what came afterward, this + sense of utter failure and the attempt to shape one's self to brutal + necessity. In the future that opened before him he saw only a terrible + patience which would perhaps grow into a second nature as the years went + on. In place of the old generous existence, he must from this day forth + wring the daily bread of those he loved, with maimed hands, from a wasted + soil. + </p> + <p> + The thought of Betty came to him, but it brought no consolation. For + himself he could meet the shipwreck standing, but Betty must be saved from + it if there was salvation to be found. She had loved him in the days of + his youth—in his strong days, as the Governor said—now that he + was worn out, suffering, gray before his time, there was mere madness in + his thought of her buoyant strength. “You may take ten—you may take + twenty years to rebuild yourself,” a surgeon had said to him at parting; + and he asked himself bitterly, by what right of love dared he make her + strong youth a prop for his feeble life? She loved him he knew—in + his blackest hour he never doubted this—but because she loved him, + did it follow that she must be sacrificed? + </p> + <p> + Then gradually the dark mood passed, and with his eyes on the star, his + mouth settled into the lines of smiling patience which suffering brings to + the brave. He had never been a coward and he was not one now. The years + had taught him nothing if they had not taught him the wisdom most needed + by his impulsive youth—that so long as there comes good to the + meanest creature from fate's hardest blow, it is the part of a man to + stand up and take it between the eyes. In the midst of his own despair, of + the haunting memories of that bland period which was over for his race, + there arose suddenly the figure of the slave the Major had rescued, in + Dan's boyhood, from the power of old Rainy-day Jones. He saw again the + poor black wretch shivering in the warmth, with the dirty rag about his + jaw, and with the sight he drew a breath that was almost of relief. That + one memory had troubled his own jovial ease; now in his approaching + poverty he might put it away from him forever. + </p> + <p> + In the first light of a misty April sunrise they went out on the road + again, and when they had walked a mile or so, Big Abel found some young + pokeberry shoots, which he boiled in his old quart cup with a slice of + bacon he had saved from supper. At noon they came upon a little farm and + ploughed a strip of land in payment for a dinner that was lavishly pressed + upon them. The people were plain, poor, and kindly, and the farmer + followed Dan into the field with entreaties that he should leave the + furrows and come in to meet his family. “Let yo' darky do a bit of work if + he wants to,” he urged, “but it makes me downright sick to see one of + General Lee's soldiers driving my plough. The gals are afraid it'll bring + bad luck.” + </p> + <p> + With a laugh, Dan tossed the ropes to Big Abel, who had been breaking + clods of earth, and returned to the house, where he was placed in the seat + of honour and waited on by a troop of enthusiastic red-cheeked maidens, + each of whom cut one of the remaining buttons from his coat. Here he was + asked to stay the night, but with the memory of the blue valley before his + eyes, he shook his head and pushed on again in the early afternoon. The + vision of Chericoke hung like a star above his road, and he struggled a + little nearer day by day. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes ploughing, sometimes chopping a pile of logs, and again lying + for hours in the warm grass by the way, they travelled slowly toward the + valley that held Dan's desire. The chill April dawns broke over them, and + the genial April sunshine warmed them through after a drenching in a + pearly shower. They watched the buds swell and the leaves open in the + wood, the wild violets bloom in sheltered places, and the dandelions troop + in ranks among the grasses by the road. Dan, halting to rest in the mild + weather, would fall often into a revery long and patient, like those of + extreme old age. With the sun shining upon his relaxed body and his eyes + on the bright dust that floated in the slanting beams, he would lie for + hours speechless, absorbed, filled with visions. One day he found a + mountain laurel flowering in the woods, and gathering a spray he sat with + it in his hands and dreamed of Betty. When Big Abel touched him on the arm + he turned with a laugh and struggled to his feet. “I was resting,” he + explained, as they walked on. “It is good to rest like that in mind and + body; to keep out thoughts and let the dreams come as they will.” + </p> + <p> + “De bes' place ter res' is on yo' own do' step,” Big Abel responded, and + quickening their pace, they went more rapidly over the rough clay roads. + </p> + <p> + It was at the end of this day that they came, in the purple twilight, to a + big brick house and found there a woman who lived alone with the memories + of a son she had lost at Gettysburg. At their knock she came herself, with + a few old servants, prompt, tearful, and very sad; and when she saw Dan's + coat by the light of the lamp behind her, she put out her hands with a cry + of welcome and drew him in, weeping softly as her white head touched his + sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “My mother is dead, thank God,” he murmured, and at his words she looked + up at him a little startled. + </p> + <p> + “Others have come,” she said, “but they were not like you; they did not + have your voice. Have you been always poor like this?” + </p> + <p> + He met her eyes smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I have not always been a soldier,” was his answer. + </p> + <p> + For a moment she looked at him as if bewildered; then taking a lamp from + an old servant, she led the way upstairs to her son's room, and laid out + the dead man's clothes upon his bed. + </p> + <p> + “We keep house for the soldiers now,” she said, and went out to make + things ready. + </p> + <p> + As he plunged into the warm water and dried himself upon the fresh linen + she had left, he heard the sound of passing feet in the broad hall, and + from the outside kitchen there floated a savoury smell that reminded him + of Chericoke at the supper hour. With the bath and the clean clothes his + old instincts revived within him, and as he looked into the glass he + caught something of the likeness of his college days. Beau Montjoy was not + starved out after all, he thought with a laugh, he was only plastered over + with malaria and dirt. + </p> + <p> + For three days he remained in the big brick house lying at ease upon a + sofa in the library, or listening to the tragic voice of the mother who + talked of her only son. When she questioned him about Pickett's charge, he + raised himself on his pillows and talked excitedly, his face flushing as + if from fever. + </p> + <p> + “Your son was with Armistead,” he said, “and they all went down like + heroes. I can see old Armistead now with his hat on his sword's point as + he waved to us through the smoke. 'Who will follow me, boys?' he cried, + and the next instant dashed straight on the defences. When he got to the + second line there were only six men with him, beside Colonel Martin, and + your son was one of them. My God! it was worth living to die like that.” + </p> + <p> + “And it is worth living to have a son die like that,” she added, and wept + softly in the stillness. + </p> + <p> + The next morning he went on again despite her prayers. The rest was all + too pleasant, but the memory of his valley was before him, and he thirsted + for the pure winds that blew down the long white turnpike. + </p> + <p> + “There is no peace for me until I see it again,” he said at parting, and + with a lighter step went out upon the April roads once more. + </p> + <p> + The way was easier now for his limbs were stronger, and he wore the dead + man's shoes upon his feet. For a time it almost seemed that the strength + of that other soldier, who lay in a strange soil, had entered into his + veins and made him hardier to endure. And so through the clear days they + travelled with few pauses, munching as they walked from the food Big Abel + carried in a basket on his arm. + </p> + <p> + “We've been coming for three weeks, and we are getting nearer,” said Dan + one evening, as he climbed the spur of a mountain range at the hour of + sunset. Then his glance swept the wide horizon, and the stick in his hand + fell suddenly to the ground; for faint and blue and bathed in the sunset + light he saw his own hills crowding against the sky. As he looked his + heart swelled with tears, and turning away he covered his quivering face. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. — THE RETURN + </h2> + <p> + As they passed from the shadow of the tavern road, the afternoon sunlight + was slanting across the turnpike from the friendly hills, which alone of + all the landscape remained unchanged. Loyal, smiling, guarding the ruined + valley like peaceful sentinels, they had suffered not so much as an added + wrinkle upon their brows. As Dan had left them five long years ago, so he + found them now, and his heart leaped as he stood at last face to face. He + was like a man who, having hungered for many days, finds himself suddenly + satisfied again. + </p> + <p> + Amid a blur of young foliage they saw first the smoking chimneys of + Uplands, and then the Doric columns beyond a lane of flowering lilacs. The + stone wall had crumbled in places, and strange weeds were springing up + among the high blue-grass; but here and there beneath the maples he caught + a glimpse of small darkies uprooting the intruders, and beyond the garden, + in the distant meadows, ploughmen were plodding back and forth in the + purple furrows. Peace had descended here at least, and, with a smile, he + detected Betty's abounding energy in the moving spirit of the place. He + saw her in the freshly swept walks, in the small negroes weeding the + blue-grass lawn, in the distant ploughs that made blots upon the meadows. + For a moment he hesitated, and laid his hand upon the iron gate; then, + stifling the temptation, he turned back into the white sand of the road. + Before he met Betty's eyes, he meant that his peace should be made with + the old man at Chericoke. + </p> + <p> + Big Abel, tramping at his side, opened his mouth from time to time to let + out a rapturous exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “Dar 'tis! des look at it!” he chuckled, when Uplands had been left far + behind them. “Dat's de ve'y same clump er cedars, en dat's de wil' cher'y + lyin' right flat on hit's back—dey's done cut it down ter git de + cher'ies.” + </p> + <p> + “And the locust! Look, the big locust tree is still there, and in full + bloom!” + </p> + <p> + “Lawd, de 'simmons! Dar's de 'simmon tree way down yonder in the meadow, + whar we all use ter set ouah ole hyar traps. You ain' furgot dose ole hyar + traps, Marse Dan?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgotten them! good Lord!” said Dan; “why I remember we caught five one + Christmas morning, and Betty fed them and set them free again.” + </p> + <p> + “Dat she did, suh, dat she did! Hit's de gospel trufe!” + </p> + <p> + “We never could hide our traps from Betty,” pursued Dan, in delight. “She + was a regular fox for scenting them out—I never saw such a nose for + traps as hers, and she always set the things loose and smashed the doors.” + </p> + <p> + “We hid 'em one time way way in de thicket by de ice pond,” returned Big + Abel, “but she spied 'em out. Yes, Lawd, she spied 'em out fo' ouah backs + wuz turnt.” + </p> + <p> + He talked on rapidly while Dan listened with a faint smile about his + mouth. Since they had left the tavern road, Big Abel's onward march had + been accompanied by ceaseless ejaculations. His joy was childlike, + unrestrained, full of whimsical surprises—the flight of a bluebird + or the recognition of a shrub beside the way sent him with shining eyes + and quickened steps along the turnpike. + </p> + <p> + From free Levi's cabin, which was still standing, though a battle had + raged in the fallen woods beyond it, and men had fought and been buried + within a stone's throw of the doorstep, they heard the steady falling of a + hammer and caught the red glow from the rude forge at which the old negro + worked. With the half-forgotten sound, Dan returned as if in a vision to + his last night at Chericoke, when he had run off in his boyish folly, with + free Levi's hammer beating in his ears. Then he had dreamed of coming back + again, but not like this. He had meant to ride proudly up the turnpike, + with his easily won honours on his head, and in his hands his magnanimous + forgiveness for all who had done him wrong. On that day he had pictured + the Governor hurrying to the turnpike as he passed, and he had seen his + grandfather, shy of apologies, eager to make amends. + </p> + <p> + That was his dream, and to-day he came back footsore, penniless, and in a + dead man's clothes—a beggar as he had been at his first home-coming, + when he had stood panting on the threshold and clutched his little bundle + in his arms. + </p> + <p> + Yet his pulses stirred, and he turned cheerfully to the negro at his side. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see it, Big Abel? Tell me when you see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Dar's de cattle pastur',” cried Big Abel, “en dey's been a-fittin' dar—des + look.” + </p> + <p> + “It must have been a skirmish,” replied Dan, glancing down the slope. “The + wall is all down, and see here,” his foot struck on something hard and he + stooped and picked up a horse's skull. “I dare say a squad of cavalry met + Mosby's rangers,” he added. “It looks as if they'd had a little frolic.” + </p> + <p> + He threw the skull into the pasture, and followed Big Abel, who was + hurrying along the road. + </p> + <p> + “We're moughty near dar,” cried the negro, breaking into a run. “Des wait + twel we pass de aspens, Marse Dan, des wait twel we pass de aspens, den + we'll be right dar, suh.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as Dan reached him, the aspens were passed, and where Chericoke had + stood they found a heap of ashes. + </p> + <p> + At their feet lay the relics of a hot skirmish, and the old elms were + perforated with rifle balls, but for these things Dan had neither eyes nor + thoughts. He was standing before the place that he called home, and where + the hospitable doors had opened he found only a cold mound of charred and + crumbled bricks. + </p> + <p> + For an instant the scene went black before his eyes, and as he staggered + forward, Big Abel caught his arm. + </p> + <p> + “I'se hyer, Marse Dan, I'se hyer,” groaned the negro in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “But the others? Where are the others?” asked Dan, coming to himself. + “Hold me, Big Abel, I'm an utter fool. O Congo! Is that Congo?” + </p> + <p> + A negro, coming with his hoe from the corn field, ran over the desolated + lawn, and began shouting hoarsely to the hands behind him:— + </p> + <p> + “Hi! Hit's Marse Dan, hit's Marse Dan come back agin!” he yelled, and at + the cry there flocked round him a little troop of faithful servants, + weeping, shouting, holding out eager arms. + </p> + <p> + “Hi! hit's Marse Dan!” they shrieked in chorus. “Hit's Marse Dan en Brer + Abel! Brer Abel en Marse Dan is done come agin!” + </p> + <p> + Dan wept with them—tears of weakness, of anguish, of faint hope amid + the dark. As their hands closed over his, he grasped them as if his eyes + had gone suddenly blind. + </p> + <p> + “Where are the others? Congo, for God's sake, tell me where are the + others?” + </p> + <p> + “We all's hyer, Marse Dan. We all's hyer,” they protested, sobbing. “En + Ole Marster en Ole Miss dey's in de house er de overseer—dey's right + over dar behine de orchard whar you use ter projick wid de ploughs, en + Brer Cupid and Sis Rhody dey's a-gittin' dem dey supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let me go,” cried Dan. “Let me go!” and he started at a run past the + gray ruins and the standing kitchen, past the flower garden and the big + woodpile, to the orchard and the small frame house of Harris the overseer. + </p> + <p> + Big Abel kept at his heels, panting, grunting, calling upon his master to + halt and upon Congo to hurry after. + </p> + <p> + “You'll skeer dem ter deaf—you'll skeer Ole Miss ter deaf,” cried + Congo from the rear, and drawing a trembling breath, Dan slackened his + pace and went on at a walk. At last, when he reached the small frame house + and put his foot upon the step, he hesitated so long that Congo slipped + ahead of him and softly opened the door. Then his young master followed + and stood looking with blurred eyes into the room. + </p> + <p> + Before a light blaze which burned on the hearth, the Major was sitting in + an arm chair of oak splits, his eyes on the blossoming apple trees + outside, and above his head, the radiant image of Aunt Emmeline, painted + as Venus in a gown of amber brocade. All else was plain and clean—the + well-swept floor, the burnished andirons, the cupboard filled with rows of + blue and white china—but that one glowing figure lent a festive air + to the poorly furnished room, and enriched with a certain pomp the tired + old man, dozing, with bowed white head, in the rude arm chair. It was the + one thing saved from the ashes—the one vestige of a former greatness + that still remained. + </p> + <p> + As Dan stood there, a clock on the mantel struck the hour, and the Major + turned slowly toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Bring the lamps, Cupid,” he said, though the daylight was still shining. + “I don't like the long shadows—bring the lamps.” + </p> + <p> + Choking back a sob, Dan crossed the floor and knelt down by the chair. + </p> + <p> + “We have come back, grandpa,” he said. “We beg your pardon, and we have + come back—Big Abel and I.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment the Major stared at him in silence; then he reached out and + felt him with shaking hands as if he mistrusted the vision of his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “So you're back, Champe, my boy,” he muttered. “My eyes are bad—I + thought at first that it was Dan—that it was Dan.” + </p> + <p> + “It is I, grandpa,” said Dan, slowly. “It is I—and Big Abel, too. We + are sorry for it all—for everything, and we have come back poorer + than we went away.” + </p> + <p> + A light broke over the old man's face, and he stretched out his arms with + a great cry that filled the room as his head fell forward on his + grandson's breast. Then, when Mrs. Lightfoot appeared in the doorway, he + controlled himself with a gasp and struggled to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Welcome home, my son,” he said ceremoniously, as he put out his quivering + hands, “and welcome home, Big Abel.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady went into Dan's arms as he turned, and looking over her head, + he saw Betty coming toward him with a lamp shining in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “My child, here is one of our soldiers,” cried the Major, in joyful tones, + and as the girl placed the lamp upon the table, she turned and met Dan's + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “It is the second time I've come home like this, Betty,” he said, “only + I'm a worse beggar now than I was at first.” + </p> + <p> + Betty shook his hand warmly and smiled into his serious face. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say you're hungrier,” she responded cheerfully, “but we'll soon + mend that, Mrs. Lightfoot and I. We are of one mind with Uncle Bill, who, + when Mr. Blake asked him the other day what we ought to do for our + returned soldiers, replied as quick as that, 'Feed 'em, sir.'” + </p> + <p> + The Major laughed with misty eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You can't get Betty to look on the dark side, my boy,” he declared, + though Dan, watching the girl, saw that her face in repose had grown very + sad. Only the old beaming smile brought the brightness now. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope she will turn up the cheerful part of this outlook,” he + said, surrendering himself to the noisy welcome of Cupid and Aunt Rhody. + </p> + <p> + “We may trust her—we may trust her,” replied the old man as he + settled himself back into his chair. “If there isn't any sunshine, Betty + will make it for us herself.” + </p> + <p> + Dan met the girl's glance for an instant, and then looked at the old + negroes hanging upon his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the prodigal is back,” he admitted, laughing, “and I hope the fatted + calf is on the crane.” + </p> + <p> + “Dar's a roas' pig fur ter-morrow, sho's you bo'n,” returned Aunt Rhody. + “En I'se gwine to stuff 'im full.” Then she hurried away to her fire, and + Dan threw himself down upon the rug at the Major's feet. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we may trust Betty for the sunshine,” repeated the Major, as if + striving to recall his wandering thoughts. “She's my overseer now, you + know, and she actually looks after both places in less time than poor + Harris took to worry along with one. Why, there's not a better farmer in + the county.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Major, don't,” begged the girl, laughing and blushing beneath Dan's + eyes. “You mustn't believe him, Dan, he wears rose-coloured glasses when + he looks at me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my sight is dim enough for everything else, my dear,” confessed the + old man sadly. “That's why I have the lamps lighted before the sun goes + down—eh, Molly?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lightfoot unwrapped her knitting and the ivory kneedles clicked in + the firelight. + </p> + <p> + “I like to keep the shadows away myself,” she responded. “The twilight + used to be my favourite hour, but I dread it now, and so does Mr. + Lightfoot.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the war's given us that in common,” chuckled the Major, stretching + out his feet. “If I remember rightly you once complained that our tastes + were never alike, Molly.” Then he glanced round with hospitable eyes. + “Draw up, my boy, draw up to the fire and tell your story,” he added + invitingly. “By the time Champe comes home we'll have rich treats in store + for the summer evenings.” + </p> + <p> + Betty was looking at him as he bent over the thin flames, and Dan saw her + warm gaze cloud suddenly with tears. He put out his hand and touched hers + as it lay on the Major's chair, and when she turned to him she was smiling + brightly. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Cupid with our supper,” she said, going to the table, “and dear + Aunt Rhody has actually gotten out her brandied peaches that she kept + behind her 'jists.' If you ever doubted your welcome, Dan, this must + banish it forever.” Then as they gathered about the fruits of Aunt Rhody's + labours, she talked on rapidly in her cheerful voice. “The silver has just + been drawn up from the bottom of the well,” she laughed, “so you mustn't + wonder if it looks a little tarnished. There wasn't a piece missing, which + is something to be thankful for already, and the port—how many + bottles of port did you dig up from the asparagus bed, Uncle Cupid?” + </p> + <p> + “I'se done hoed up 'mos' a dozen,” answered Cupid, as he plied Dan with + waffles, “en dey ain' all un um up yit.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, we'll have a bottle after supper,” remarked the Major, + heartily. + </p> + <p> + “If there's anything that's been improved by this war it should be that + port, I reckon,” said Mrs. Lightfoot, her muslin cap nodding over the high + old urns. + </p> + <p> + “And Dan's appetite,” finished Betty, merrily. + </p> + <p> + When they rose from the table, the girl tied on her bonnet of plaited + straw and kissed Mrs. Lightfoot and the Major. + </p> + <p> + “It is almost mamma's supper time,” she said, “and I must hurry back. Why, + I've been away from her at least two hours.” Then she looked at Dan and + shook her head. “Don't come,” she added, “it is too far for you, and Congo + will see me safely home.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm sorry for Congo, but his day is over,” Dan returned, as he took + up his hat and followed her out into the orchard. With a last wave to the + Major, who watched them from the window, they passed under the blossoming + fruit trees and went slowly down the little path, while Betty talked + pleasantly of trivial things, cheerful, friendly, and composed. When she + had exhausted the spring ploughing, the crops still to be planted and the + bright May weather, Dan stopped beside the ashes of Chericoke, and looked + at her with sombre eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Betty, we must have it out,” he said abruptly. “I have thought over it + until I'm almost mad, and I see but one sensible thing for you to do—you + must give me up—my dearest.” + </p> + <p> + A smile flickered about Betty's mouth. “It has taken you a long time to + come to that conclusion,” she responded. + </p> + <p> + “I hoped until the end—even after I knew that hope was folly and + that I was a fool to cling to it. I always meant to come back to you when + I got the chance, but not like this—not like this.” + </p> + <p> + At the pain in his eyes the girl caught her breath with a sob that shook + her from head to foot. Pity moved her with a passion stronger than mere + love, and she put out her protecting arms with a gesture that would have + saved him from the world—or from himself. + </p> + <p> + “No, like this, Dan,” she answered, with her lips upon his coat. + </p> + <p> + He kissed her once and drew back. + </p> + <p> + “I never meant to come home this way, Betty,” he said, in a voice that + trembled from its new humility. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, my dear, I have grown to think that any way is a good way,” she + murmured, her eyes on the blackened pile that had once been Chericoke. + </p> + <p> + “It is not right,” he went on; “it is not fair. You cannot marry me—you + must not.” + </p> + <p> + Again the humour quivered on the girl's lips. + </p> + <p> + “I don't like to seem too urgent,” she returned, “but will you tell me + why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he repeated bitterly. “There are a hundred why's if you want them, + and each one sufficient in itself. I am a beggar, a failure, a wreck, a + broken-down soldier from the ranks. Do you think if it were anything less + than pure madness on your part that I should stand here a moment and talk + like this?—but because I am in love with you, Betty, it doesn't + follow that I'm an utter ass.” + </p> + <p> + “That's flattering,” responded Betty, “but it doesn't explain just what I + want to know. Look me straight in the eyes—no evading now—and + answer what I ask. Do you mean that we are to be neighbours and nothing + more? Do you mean that we are to shake hands when we meet and drop them + afterward? Do you mean that we are to stand alone together as we are + standing now—that you are never to take me in your arms again? Do + you mean this, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean—just that,” he answered between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Betty looked at him with a laugh of disbelief. Then, biting + the smile upon her lips, she held out her hand with a friendly gesture. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite content that it should be so,” she said in a cordial voice. + “We shall be very good neighbours, I fancy, and if you have any trouble + with your crops, don't hesitate to ask for my advice. I've become an + excellent farmer, the Major says, you know.” She caught up her long black + skirt and walked on, but when he would have followed, she motioned him + back with a decisive little wave. “You really mustn't—I can't think + of allowing it,” she insisted. “It is putting my neighbours to unheard-of + trouble to make them see me home. Why, if I once begin the custom, I shall + soon have old Rainy-day Jones walking back with me when I go to buy his + cows.” Still smiling she passed under the battle-scarred elms and stepped + over the ruined gate into the road. + </p> + <p> + Leaning against a twisted tree in the old drive, Dan watched her until her + black dress fluttered beyond the crumbled wall. Then he gave a cry that + checked her hastening feet. + </p> + <p> + “Betty!” he called, and at his voice she turned. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, dear friend?” she asked, and, standing amid the scattered + stones, looked back at him with pleading eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Betty!” he cried again, stretching out his arms; and as she ran toward + him, he went down beside the ashes of Chericoke, and lay with his face + half hidden against a broken urn. + </p> + <p> + “I am coming,” called Betty, softly, running over the fallen gate and + along the drive. Then, as she reached him, she knelt down and drew him to + her bosom, soothing him as a mother soothes a tired child. + </p> + <p> + “It shall be as you wish—I shall be as you wish,” she promised as + she held him close. + </p> + <p> + But his strength had come back to him at her touch, and springing to his + feet, he caught her from the ground as he had done that day beside the + cabin in the woods, kissing her eyelids and her faithful hands. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do it, Betty, it's no use. There's still some fight left in me—I + am not utterly beaten so long as I have you on my side.” + </p> + <p> + With a smile she lifted her face and he caught the strong courage of her + look. + </p> + <p> + “We will begin again,” she said, “and this time, my dear, we will begin + together.” + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Battle Ground, by Ellen Glasgow + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BATTLE GROUND *** + +***** This file should be named 6872-h.htm or 6872-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/8/7/6872/ + + +Text file produced by Wendy Crockett, Tiffany Vergon, Juliet +Sutherland, Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file 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. 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