IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 1.0 IrUI- IIM 
 
 I.I 
 
 1^ i^ 
 
 lia 2.0 
 
 2.5 
 
 1.8 
 
 1:25 III 1.4 iL6 
 
 V] 
 
 <^ 
 
 /2 
 
 7: 
 
 
 o 
 
 7 
 
 /A 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 ^ 
 
 .s^ 
 
 \ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 \\ 
 
 ^<b 
 
 V 
 
 
 41^ 
 
 ^ 
 
CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHM/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques 
 
 The Institute has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for filming. Features of this 
 copy which may be bibliographically unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checlted below. 
 
 □ 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 I I Covers damaged/ 
 
 Couverture endommagde 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couvertur<t rettauiAe et/ou pelliculie 
 
 □ Cover title missing/ 
 Le titre de couverture manquo 
 
 Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes g6ographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. '>ther than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other miiterial/ 
 Relii avec d'autres documents 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La reliure serr6e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distortion le long de la marge intirieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajouties 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, 
 mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ess pages n'ont 
 pas 6t6 filmdes. 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires suppl6mentaires; 
 
 The 
 to t 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire 
 qu'il lui a Ati possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du 
 point de vun bihiiographique, qui peuvent modifier 
 une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la methods normale de filmage 
 sont indiquis ci-dessous. 
 
 I I Coloured pages/ 
 
 i^' 
 
 D 
 D 
 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagies 
 
 Pages restorsd and/oi 
 
 Pages restaur6es et/ou pellicul6es 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxec 
 Pages d6color6es, tachetdes ou piqudes 
 
 I I Pages damaged/ 
 
 I I Pages restorsd and/or laminated/ 
 
 I 1 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 
 Lid 
 
 The 
 pos 
 oft 
 film 
 
 Ori( 
 
 beg 
 
 the 
 
 sior 
 
 oth( 
 
 first 
 
 sion 
 
 or il 
 
 □ Pages detached/ 
 Pagei^ d6tach6es 
 
 Showthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 □ Quality of print varies/ 
 Qualitd in6gale de I'impression 
 
 I I Includes supplementary material/ 
 
 Comprend du materiel suppl^mentaire 
 
 Only edition available/ 
 Seule MItion disponible 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 Slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to 
 ensure the best possible image/ 
 Les pages tutalement ou partiellement 
 obscMrcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc., ont 6t6 filmies A nouveau de fapon d 
 obtenir la meilleure image possible. 
 
 The 
 shal 
 TINI 
 whi( 
 
 Map 
 diffe 
 entir 
 begi 
 right 
 requ 
 metl 
 
 This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est film6 au taux de reduction indiqu6 ci-dessous. 
 
 10X 14X 18X 22X 
 
 26X 
 
 30X 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 y 
 
 
 
 
 12X 
 
 16X 
 
 20X 
 
 24X 
 
 28X 
 
 32X 
 
re 
 
 Idtails 
 88 du 
 modifier 
 er une 
 filmage 
 
 The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanlts 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 National Library of Canada 
 
 The images appearing here aro the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grdce d la 
 g6n6rosit6 de: 
 
 Bibliothdque nationale du Canada 
 
 Les images sui/antes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le 
 plus grand soin compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la nettetd de l'exemplaire film6, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the front cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 les 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprim6e sont filmds en commenpant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 dernidre page qui ccmporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont film6s en commenpant par la 
 premidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et on terminant par 
 la dernidre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol -^ (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la 
 dernidre image de cheque microfiche, seion le 
 cas: le symbole ^^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbole V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many framer^ as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent §tre 
 filmds d des taux de reduction diffdrents. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre 
 reproduit en un seul clich6, il est filmd d partir 
 de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre 
 d'images ndcessaire. Lds diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la mdthode. 
 
 errata 
 to 
 
 > pelure, 
 on A 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 32X 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
v;. fh^ . SiinMiM^^- -r^^- 
 
■*!'?otI 
 
 (( 
 
 MISS I^OU 
 
 T *» 
 
..., s^^^'HM^-^^;^:. 'i t m i fj^ 
 
'■•^'SfSl 
 
 T 
 
 C( 
 
 MISS LOU" 
 
 I'.V 
 
 EDWARD P. ROE 
 
 ACri.OH <.,.- "BAKK.KHS HUUN,,,. AWAV," " on.N I N, ; A CHESTNUT 
 
 HURK,'" "wrriiouT a ik.mf.," ",,e j.ki.l in 
 
 LOVK WITH HIS WnK," ETC, 
 
 ROSE PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 .1888. 
 
■.•.■^->, ^/p*■*■ife.^M/r^Tl2g^ 
 
 J^ce, l:p 
 
 Entered according to the Act of Parliament of Canada, in the year one 
 thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight, by the RosK TuBLiSHlNa 
 Company at the Department of Agriculture. 
 
 PRINTED AND BOUND BY 
 
 HUNTER, ROSE & CO., 
 
 TOKONXO. 
 
 
^**^S?^?P 
 
 year one 
 
 BLISHINO 
 
 IFn EoOinty IDetiicntioit 
 'ro "LITTLE MISS LOU," 
 
 MY YOUNGEST DAUGHTER. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHATTKR 
 
 r. 
 
 n. 
 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 vr. 
 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XIL 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 
 A Girl's Protest 
 
 SOMF.THllvr. IfAI'PEVS 
 
 Mad Whatklv 
 Aim' JinkkVs Poijcv 
 
 Wha. ELY'S Il,KA OK COURTSHIP 
 
 The Storm hegins 
 
 ■ • . 
 
 Dangers thkkj^ning 
 
 "When?" 
 
 Paralyzed with Shame 
 
 A Baffled Diplomatist 
 • A UN' JiNKEY's Warning 
 A Whirlwind of Kvents 
 The Unexpected happens 
 A Threat . 
 Miss Lou emancipated . 
 A Smile on War's Grim Face ' 
 The Joy of Freedom 
 
 • • , 
 
 A Well-aimed Slipper 
 
 A Girl's Appeal . . , * 
 
 ScoviLLE's Hope. 
 
 Two Storms . . , ' ' 
 
 Chunk's Quest . , ' 
 
 A Bold Sche.me 
 
 A Home a Hospital . 
 
 A Tribute to a Southern Girl 
 
 r 
 
 8 
 
 • '7 
 26 
 
 • 33 
 38 
 
 • SO 
 57 
 
 • 65 
 74 
 
 • «3 
 91 
 
 • roo 
 
 I0(> 
 
 117 
 129 
 140 
 
 162 
 172 
 187 
 
 197 
 208 
 220 
 231 
 
.T^-^-^ ^^ 
 
 ■^ rT^A^ 
 
 vi 
 
 coxr/cvrs. 
 
 ClIMTIiU 
 
 XW'I.t A I'.ACKC.ROl'Nl) OK ICCOTISM 
 
 XXV r I. A UN' Jinkky's Sui'RKMF. Tkst 
 
 . XXV'HI. Truth w vwv. IIeavf.ns iam, 
 
 XXIX. "Ancki, ok Dkatii" 
 
 XXX. (iMMPSKS OF Moods and Min 
 
 XXXI. The Duelists vanquished . 
 
 XXXn. Sad Tidings 
 
 XXXIII. Conspirators . . . . 
 
 XXXIV. Chunk plays Spook . 
 XXXV. A Visitation .... 
 
 XXXVI. Uncle Lusthah exhorts . 
 
 XXXV II. A Ne\v Routine . 
 
 DS 
 
 rA<iH 
 2.S5 
 
 -57'J 
 
 294 
 30s 
 
 3'i 
 
 J22 
 
 341 
 
 349 
 
 360 
 
rA(iE 
 243 
 
 255 
 
 269 
 
 305 
 
 J-- 
 
 333 
 341 
 349 
 
 360 
 
 "MISS LOU." 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 A GIRI, S PROIKST. 
 
 A GREAT, rudely built stone chimney was smoking 
 languidly one afternoon. Leaning against this chimney, 
 as if for protection and support, was a little cabin gray and 
 decrepit with age. The door of the cabin stood wide open, 
 for the warm spring was well advanced in the South, There 
 was no need of a fire, but Aun' Jinkey, the mistress of the 
 abode, said she ** kep' hit bunin' fer comp'ny." She sat by 
 it now, smoking as lazily as her chimney, in an old chair 
 which creaked as if in pain when she rocked. She supposed 
 herself to be in deep meditation, and regarded her corncob 
 l)ipe not merely a solace but also as an invaluable assistant 
 to clearness of thought. Aun' Jinkey had the complacent 
 belief that she could reason out most (questions if she could 
 only smoke and think long enough. Unfortunately, events 
 would occur wl ich required action, or which raised new 
 questions before she had had time to solve those originally 
 presented ; yet it would be hard to fancy a more tranquil 
 orde- of things than that of which she was a humble part. 
 
 The cabin was shaded by grand old oaks and pines, through 
 which the afternoon sun shone in mild radiance, streaming 
 into the doorway and making a broad track of light over the 
 uneven floor. But Aun' Jinkey kept back in the congenial 
 
^ -S -, .«u»*-.'»-ifc.fiM^ ^S 
 
 
 2 ''Af/SS LOU.'' 
 
 » 
 
 dusk, obliv ous to the loveliness of nature without. At last 
 
 she removed her pipe from her mouth and revealed her 
 mental processes in words. 
 
 " In all my projeckin' dat chile's wuss 'n old mars'r en 
 miss, en de wah, en de preachin'. I kin kin' oh see troo dem, 
 en w'at dey dribin' at, hut dat chile grow mo' (juare en 
 on'countable eb'y day. Long as she wus took up wid her 
 doll en tame rabbits en pony dar wa'n't no circum'cutions 
 'bout her, en now she am all circum'cution. • Not'n gv.-ine 
 'long plain wid her. She like de run down dar — hit win' 
 en win' ez ef hit had ter go on, en hit couldn't mek up hits 
 min' which way ter go. Sometime hit larfin' in de sun en A^iw 
 hit steal away whar you kyant mos' fin' hit. Dat de way 
 wid Miss Lou. She seem right hyar wid us — she only lil 
 gyurl toder day — en now she 'clinin' to notions ob her own, 
 en she steal away to whar she tink no one see her en tink on 
 heaps ob tings. Won'er ef eber, like de run, she wanter go 
 way off fum us ? 
 
 " Ole mars'r en ole miss dunno en doan see not'n, Dev 
 kyant. Dey tinks de worl' al'ays gwine des so, dat means de 
 way dey tink hit orter go. Ef hit go any oder way, de worl's 
 wrong, not dey. I ain' sayin' dey i? wrong, fer I ain' des 
 tink- dat all out'n. 'Long ez she keeps her foots on de chalk 
 line dey mark out dey ain' projeckin' how her min' go yere 
 en dar, zigerty-zag wid notions ob her own." 
 
 The door darkened, if the radiant girl standing on the 
 threshold could be said to darken any door. She did not 
 represent the ordinary Southern type, for her hair was gold 
 in the sun and her eyes blue as the violets by the brook. 
 They were full of mirtli now as she said : "There you are. 
 Aun' Jinkey, smoking and 'projeckin' ' as usual. You look 
 like an old Voudoo woman, and if I didn't know you as my 
 old mammy — if I should just happen in as a stranger, Fd 
 be afraid of you." 
 
5<^*ifWl 
 
 A CIRVS PROTEST. 
 
 At last 
 ealed her 
 
 mars' r en 
 troo (lem, 
 
 (luare en 
 p vvid her 
 nn'cutions 
 :)t'n gwine 
 — hit win' 
 ek up hits 
 sun en den 
 >at de way 
 ^he only HI 
 )1) her own, 
 • en tink on 
 
 wanter go 
 
 lot'n, Dey 
 it means de 
 |y, de worl's 
 I ain' des 
 )n de chalk 
 lin' go yere 
 
 ling on the 
 he did not 
 tr was gold 
 I the brook, 
 •e vou are, 
 You look 
 you as my 
 tranger, I'd 
 
 "Voudoo ooman'! liow you talks, INIiss Lou! I'se a 
 nrjmber ob de Baptis' Churv-.h, en you knows it." 
 
 " Oh, I know a iieap ' mo'n dat,' a;i you so often say. If 
 you were only a member of the Baptist Churcli I wouldn't 
 be running in to see you so often. Uncle says a member of 
 tlie Baptist Church has been stealing some of his chickens." 
 
 ''I knows some tings 'bout de members ob he church," 
 replied Aun' Jinkey, with a to^s of her head. 
 
 " I reckon you do, more than they would like to see pub- 
 lislied in the county paper : but we aren't scandal-mongers, 
 are we, Aun Jinkey?" and die young visitor sat down in the 
 doorway and looked across ihe green meadow stfen through 
 the oi)ening in the trees. .V dogwood stood in the corner 
 of the rail fence, the pink and white of its blossoms well 
 matching the girl's fair face and her rose-dotted calico gown, 
 which, in its severe simplicity, revealed her rounded out- 
 lines. 
 
 Aun' Jinkey watched her curiously, for it was evident that 
 Miss Lou's thoughts were far away. " Wat you tinkin' 'bout, 
 j\Iiss Lou?" she asked. 
 
 '' Oh, I hardly know myself. C(3me, Aun' Jinkey, be a 
 nice old witch and tell, me my fortune." 
 
 "Wat yoa*want ter know yo' fortin fur?" 
 
 " I want to know more than I do now. Look here. Aun' 
 Jinkey, does that run we hear singing yonder go round and 
 round in one place and with the same current? Doesn't it 
 go on ? LIncle and aunt want me to go round and round, 
 doing the same thuigs and thinking the same thoughts — not 
 my own thoughts either. Oh, I'm getting so tired of it 
 all!" 
 
 " Lor' now, chile, I wuz des 'parin' you ter dat run in my 
 min'," said Aun' Jinkey in an awed tone. 
 
 " No danger of uncle or aunt' ^comparing me to the run, 
 or anything else. They never had any children and don't 
 
■ ■> ^i^-i*tii>iim>fr- jk f^^. •Tii[jfii||r|d 
 
 
 M , 
 
 4 ".v/ss Lour' 
 
 s 
 
 know anything about young p( ople. They have a sort of 
 prim, old-fashioned ideal of what the girls in the Baron family 
 should be, and I must become just such a girl — just like 
 that stiff, queer old portrait of grandma when she was a girl. 
 (,)h, if they knew how tired of it all I am ! " 
 
 " Bless yo' heart, Miss Lou, you ain' projeckin' anyting? " 
 
 " No, I'm just chafing and beating my wings like a caged 
 bird." 
 
 "Now see yere, Miss Lou, isn't you onreason'ble? You 
 hab a good home ; mars'r en miss monstus Dius, en dcy 
 bringin' you up in de nurter en 'monitions ob de Lawd." 
 
 "Too much 'monition, Aun' Jinkey. Uncle and aunt's 
 religion makes me so tired, and they make Sunday so awfully 
 long. Their religion reminds me of the lavender and cam- 
 ])hor in which they keep their Sunday clothes. And then 
 the pages of the catechism they have always made me learn, 
 and the long Psalms, too. for punishment I I don't under- 
 stand religion, anyway. It seems something meant to uphold 
 all their views, and anything contrary to their views isn't 
 right or religious. They don't think much of you Baptists." 
 
 "We ain' sufrin' on dat 'count, chile," remarked Aun' 
 Jinkey, dryly. 
 
 " There now, Aun' Jinkey, don't you see 7 Uncle owns 
 you, yet you think for yourself and have a religion of your 
 own. If he knew I v/as thinking for myself, he'd invoke the 
 memory of all the Barons against me. I don't know very 
 much about the former Barons, except that my father was 
 one. According to what I am told, the girl Barons were the 
 primmest creatures I ever heard of. Then uncle and aunt 
 are so inconsistent, holding up as they do for my admiration 
 Cousin Mad Whately. I don't wonder people shorten his 
 name from Madison to Mad, for if ever there was a wild, 
 reckless fellow, he is. Uncle wants to bring about a match, 
 because Mad's plantation joins ours. Mad acted as if he 
 
 thou 
 
 he o 
 
 a pri 
 
 eighl 
 
 told 1 
 
 the f. 
 
 part 
 
 rich, 
 
 SoutI 
 
 "ig u 
 with I 
 and I 
 to ma 
 l^rxlu 
 .lud h^ 
 l)c ho( 
 
 old en 
 own m 
 
•N^f'wl 
 
 A GIRL'S PROTEST. 
 
 5 
 
 a sort of 
 ■on family 
 -just like 
 ,vas a girl. 
 
 lyting?" 
 :e a caged 
 
 ble? You 
 IS, en dey 
 Lavvd." 
 and aunt's 
 1 so awfully 
 r and canv 
 And then 
 e me learn, 
 3n't under- 
 
 to uphold 
 views isn't 
 
 Baptists." 
 arked Aun' 
 
 Jncle owns 
 on of your 
 invoke the 
 know very 
 father was 
 ns were the 
 e and aunt 
 admiration 
 (shorten his 
 Ivas a wild. 
 lut a match, 
 led as if he 
 
 owned me already when he was home last, rnd yet he knows 
 I can't abide him. He seems to think I can be subdued like 
 one of his skittish horses," 
 
 " You hab got a heap on yo' min', Miss Lou, you sho'ly 
 hab. You sut'ny tink too much for a young gyurl." 
 
 " I'm eighteen, yet uncle and aunt act towards me in some 
 ways as if I were still ten years old. How can I help think- 
 ing? The thoughts cqme. You're a great one to talk 
 against thinking. Uncle says you don't do much else, and 
 that your thoughts are jus: like the smoke of your pipe." 
 
 Aun' Jinkey bridled indignantly at first, but, recollecting 
 herself, said quietly : " I knows my juty ter ole mars'r en'll 
 say iiot'n gin 'im. He bring you up en gib you a home. Miss 
 Lou. You must reckermember dat ar." 
 
 '• I'm in a bad mood, I suppose, but I can't help my 
 thoughts, and it's kind of a comfort to speak them out. Tf 
 he only 7uould give me a home and not make it so much like 
 a prison I Uncle's honest, though, to the backbone. On my 
 eighteenth birthday he took me into his office and foruially 
 told me about my affairs. I own that part of the plantation on 
 the far side of the run. He has kept all the accounts of that 
 part separate, and if it hadn't been for the wa; I'd have been 
 rich, and he says I will be rich when the war is over and the 
 South free. He said he had allowed so much for my bring- 
 ing up and for my education, and that the rest was invested, 
 with his own money, in Confederate bonds. That is all right, 
 and I resi)ect uncle for his downright integrity, but he wants 
 to manage me just as he does my plantation. He wishes to 
 l)r oduce just such crops of thoughts as he sows the seeds of, 
 and he would treat my other thoughts like weeds, which must 
 be hoed out, cut down and earned. Then you see he hasn't 
 given me a home, and I'm growing to be a woman. If I am 
 old enough to own land, am I never to be old enough to 
 own myself? " 
 
■I! 
 
 ' 
 
 ill 
 
 6 ■ "jz/.s-.v Af^r. " 
 
 " Dar now, Miss Lou, you rai^)in' mo' questions dan I kin 
 link out in a yeah." 
 
 "There's dozens more rising in my mind and I can't get 
 rid of them. .Aunt keeps my hands knitting and working for 
 the soldiers, and I Hke to do it. I'd like to be a soldier myself, 
 for then I could go somewhere and do and see something. 
 Life then wouldn't be just tloing things with my hands and 
 being told to think exactly what an old gentleman and an 
 old lady think. Of course our side is right in this war, but 
 how can I believe with uncle that nearly all the i)eople in the 
 North are low, wicked and vile? The idea that every North- 
 ern soldier is a monster is preposterous to me. Uncle forgets 
 that he has had me taught in United States history. I wish 
 some of them would just march by this out-of-the-way place, 
 for I would like to see for myself what they are like." 
 
 " Dar, dar. Miss Lou, you gittin' too bumptious. You 
 like de fus' woman who want ter know too much." 
 
 " No," said the girl, her blue eyes becoming dark and 
 earnest, "I want to know what's true, what's right. I can't 
 believe that uncle and aunt's narrow, exclusive, comfortless 
 religion came from heaven ; I can't believe that God agrees 
 with uncle as to just what a young girl should do and think 
 and be, but uncle seems to think that the wickedest thing I 
 can do is to disagree with him and aunt. Uncle forgets that 
 there are books in his library, and books make one think. 
 They tell of life very different from mine. Why, Aun' Jinkey, 
 just think what a lonely girl I am ! You are about the only 
 one I can talk to. Our neighbors are so far away and we 
 live so secluded that I scarcely have acquaintances of my 
 own age. Aunt thinks young girls should be kept out of 
 society until the proper time, and that time seems no nearer 
 now than ever. If uncle and aunt loved me, it would be 
 different, but they have just got a sdff set of ideas about their 
 duty to me and another set about my duty to them. Wl)}, 
 

 /I GIRLS PROTEST. 
 
 s dan I kin 
 
 1 can't get 
 working for 
 Idicr myself, 
 something. 
 \j hands and 
 nan and an 
 this war, but 
 )eople in the 
 svery North- 
 Jncle forgets 
 ory. I wish 
 ic-vvay place, 
 hke." 
 
 ptious. You 
 1." 
 
 ig dark anti 
 ht. I can't 
 , comfortless 
 God agrees 
 o and think 
 dest thing I 
 forgets that 
 : one think. 
 Aun' Jinkey, 
 out the only 
 way and we 
 mces of my 
 kept out of 
 us no nearer 
 it would bo 
 ,s about their 
 Ihem. Wb\. 
 
 uncle laughed at a kitten the other day because it was kit- 
 tenish, but he has always wanted me to behave with the 
 solemnity of an old cat. Oh, dear I I'm so tired. I wish 
 something ivoulJ happen." 
 
 " Hit brokes me all up ter year you talk so, honey, en I 
 bless de Lawd 'Lain' likely anyting gwinter hap'n in dese yere 
 ]jarts. De wah am ragin' way off fum heah, nobody comin' 
 wid news, en bimeby you gits mo' settle down. Some day 
 you know de valley ob peace en quietness." 
 
 "See here, Aun' Jinkey," said the girl, with a flash of her 
 eyes, " you know the little pond off in the woods. That's 
 more peaceful than the run, isn't it? Well, it's stagnant, 
 too, and full of snakes. I'd like to know what's going on in 
 the world, but uncle of late does not even let me read tlie 
 county paper. I know things are not going to suit him, 
 lor he often frowns and throws the paper into the fire. 
 That's what provokes me — the whole world must go just to 
 suit hmi, or else he is angry." 
 
 " Well, now, honey, you hab 'lieve yo' min', en I specs 
 you feel bettah. You mus' des promis yo' ole mammy dat 
 you be keerful en not rile up ole mars'r, kase hit'll ony be 
 harder fer you. I'se ole, en I knows tings do hap'n' dough 
 dey ol 'un come slowlike. You des gvvine troo de woods 
 now, en kyant see fur; bimeby you come ter a clearin'. 
 Dat boy ob mine be comin' soon (er his pone en bacon. I'se 
 gwinter do a heap ob tinkin' on all de cpiestions you riz." 
 
 "Yes, Aun' Jinkey, 1 (Vy feel better for speaking out, but 
 I expect I shall do a heap of thinkmg too. Good-by," and 
 she strolled away towards the brook. 
 
\0f*-t-, t ltfm " r_4^. 
 
 «« ?iyr.' 
 
 MISS LOU.'' 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SOMETHING HAPPENS. 
 
 :i ! I 
 
 IT was a moody little stream which Miss Lou was following. 
 She did not go far before she sat down on a rock and 
 watched the murmuring waters glide past, conscious mean- 
 time of a vague desire to go with them into the unknown. 
 She was not chafing so much at the monotony of her life as 
 at its restrictions, its negation of all pleasing realities, and 
 the persistent pressure upon her attention of a formal round 
 of duties and more formal and antiquated circle of thoughts. 
 Only as she stole away into solitudes like the one in which 
 she now sat dreaming could she escape from the hard mate- 
 rialism of routine, and chiding for idleness usually followed. 
 Her aunt, with an abundance of slaves at her command, 
 could have enjoyed much leisure, yet she was fussily and 
 constantly busy, and the young girl could not help feeling 
 that much which she was expected to do was a mere waste 
 of time. 
 
 The serene beauty of the evenmg, the songs of the mock- 
 ing and other birds, were not without their effect, however, 
 and she said aloud : " I might be very happy even here if, 
 like the birds, I had the heart to smg, — and I would sing 
 if I truly lived and had something to live for." 
 
 The sun was approaching the horizon, and she was rising 
 wearily and reluctantly to return when she heard the report 
 of firearms, followed by the sound of swiftly galloping horses. 
 Beyond the brook, on the margin of which she stood, rose a 
 
(P'^^nPH 
 
 SOME Til I A 'G I/A PPENS. 
 
 .s folfovving. 
 a rock and 
 ions mean- 
 2 unknown, 
 f her life as 
 ealities, and 
 Drmal round 
 of thoughts, 
 ine in which 
 hard mate- 
 ly followed, 
 command, 
 fussily and 
 lielp feeUng 
 mere waste 
 
 the mock- 
 :t, however, 
 Iven here if, 
 1 would sing 
 
 was rising 
 the report 
 
 )ing horses. 
 
 [ood, rose a 
 
 precipitous bank overhung with vines and bushes, and a few 
 rods further back was a pkmtation road descending towards 
 a widt belt of forest. A thick copse and growth of young 
 trees ran from the top of the bank towards the road, hiding 
 from her vision that portion of the lane from which the sounds 
 were approaching. Suddenly half a dozen cavalrymen, whom 
 she knew to be Federals from their blue uniforms, galloped 
 into view and passed on in the direction of the forest. One 
 of the group turned his horse sharply behind the concealing 
 copse and spurred directly towards her. She had only time 
 to throw up her hands and utter an involuntary cry of warn- 
 ing about the steep bank, when the horse sprang through the 
 treacherous shrubbery and fell headlong into the stream. The 
 rider saw his peril, withdrew his feet from the stirrups, and 
 in an instinctive effort for self-preservation, threw himself 
 forward, falling upon the sand almost at the young girl's feet. 
 He uttered a groan, shivered, and became insensible. A 
 moment or two later a band in gray galloped by wholly intent 
 upon the Federals, who had disappeared spurring for the 
 woods, and she recognized her cousin, Madison Whatel}', 
 leading the pursuit. Neither he, nor any of his party, looked 
 her way, and it was evident that the Union soldier who had 
 so abruptly diverged from the road behind the screening 
 copse had not been discovered. The sounds died away as 
 speedily as they had approached, and all became still again. 
 The startled birds resumed their songs : the injured horse 
 moved feebly, and the girl saw that it was bleeding from a 
 wound, but the man at her feet did not stir. Truly some- 
 j thing had happened. What should she do? Breaking the 
 [paralysis of her fear and astonishment, she stepped to the 
 brook, gathered up water in her hands, and dashed it into 
 [the face of the unconscious man. It had no effect. " Can 
 jhe be dead? " she asked herself in horror. He was as pale 
 Us his bronzed features could become, and her woman's soul 
 
,, •u#»-.'^i»M-^r ^«;, 
 
 ' I 
 
 I ! 
 
 !l I 
 
 i I I 
 
 ro 
 
 "J//.V.S I.OU.'' 
 
 was touched that one who U)oke(l so strong, who had been so 
 vital a moment before, should now lie there in pathetic and 
 appealing helplessness. Was that fine, manly face the visagr 
 of one of the terrible, blotjdthirsty, unscrupulous Yankees > 
 Even as she ran to Aun' Jinkey's cottage for help the thought 
 crossed her mind that the world was not what it had been 
 represented to her, and that she must learn to think and act 
 for herself. 
 
 As she approached, Chunk, Aun' Jinkey's grandson, ap- 
 peared coming from the mansion house. He was nick- 
 named " Chunk " from his dwarfed stature and his stout, 
 powerful buikl. Miss Lou put her finger to her lips, 
 glanced hastily around, and led the way into the cal)iii. 
 She hushed their startled exclamations as she told her story, 
 and then said, " Aun' Jinkey, if he's alive, you must hide 
 him in your loft there where Chunk sleeps. Come with 
 me." 
 
 In a few moments all three were beside the unconscious 
 form. Chunk instantly slipped his hand inside the soldier's 
 vest over his heart. " Hit done beats," he said, quickly, 
 and without further hesitation he lifted the man as if he had 
 been a child, bore him safely to the cabin, and laid him on 
 Aun' Jinkey's bed. " Hi, granny, whar dat hot stuff you gib 
 me fer de belly misery? " 
 
 Aun' Jinkey had already found a bottle containing a de- 
 coction of the wild ginger root, and with pewter spoon forced 
 some of the liquid into the man's mouth. He struggled 
 slightly and began to revive. At last he opened his eyc.i 
 and looked with an awed expression at the young girl who 
 stood at the foot of the bed. 
 
 " 1 hope you feel better now," she said, kindly. 
 
 " Are you — am I alive ? " he asked. 
 
 " Dar now, mars'r, you isn't in heb'n yet, dough Miss Lou, 
 standin' dar, mout favor de notion. Des you took anodt 
 
 
 I 
 
 sv 
 ai 
 
 in 
 
 ey 
 
 ba 
 
 tur 
 
 see 
 
 4 
 
 I C, 
 
 V 
 
 con 
 not 
 intc 
 
 grar 
 
 <( 
 
 emp 
 
 quit( 
 up t 
 a pit 
 \V 
 usua 
 the \ 
 
 mars' 
 down 
 'sturt 
 "I- 
 a dist 
 by th( 
 This 
 
 I! i : 
 
soM/': TJiixc //A / y'/ia;v. 
 
 11 
 
 had been so 
 jjathelic and 
 ;:c ihe visage 
 VIS Yankees > 
 J the though t 
 it had been 
 hink and act 
 
 grandson, ap- 
 le was nick- 
 ,nd his stovii, 
 to iier hps, 
 ito the cabin. 
 old her story, 
 ■ou must hide 
 . Come with 
 
 unconscious 
 ,e the soldier'-. I| 
 said, quickly. 
 ,n as if he had 
 ll laid him on 
 l)t stuff you gii) 
 
 btaining a dc- 
 |r spoon forced 
 
 He struggled 
 [ened his eye. | 
 
 jo\mg girl who 
 
 Idly. 
 
 |ugh Miss Lou, 
 took anode ^ 
 
 swaller ob dis ginger-tea, en i\^n you see me'n Chunk aiu' 
 angels." 
 
 Chunk grinned and chuckled. " Neber was took fer one 
 in my bawn days." 
 
 The young man <lid as he was bidden, then turned his 
 eyes wistfully and (luestioningly from the two dark \isages 
 back to the girl's sympathetic face. 
 
 "You remember," she said, *' you were being chased, and 
 turned yr ir liorse towards a steep bank, which you didn't 
 see, and fell." 
 
 " Ah, yes, — it's all growing clear. You were the woman 
 I caught a glimpse of," 
 
 She nodded and said : " I must go now, or some one will 
 come looking for me. I won't speak — tell about this. I'm 
 not on your side, but I'm not going to get a helpless man 
 into more trouble. You may trust Aun' Jinkey and her 
 grandson." 
 
 " Dat you kin, mars'r," Chunk ejaculated with peculiar 
 emphasis. 
 
 " God bless you, then, for a woman who has a heart. I'm 
 c[uite content that you're not an angel," and a smile so lighted 
 up the soldier's features that she thought she had never seen 
 a pleasanter looking man. 
 
 Worried indeed that she was returning so much later than 
 usual, she hastened homeward. Halfway up the path to 
 the house she met a tall, slender negro girl, who exclaimed, 
 *' Hi, Miss Lou, ole miss des gettin' 'stracted 'bout you, en 
 mars'r sez ef you ain' at supper in five minits he's gwine 
 down to Aun' Jinkey en know what she mean, meckin' sech 
 'sturbence in de fambly." 
 
 "How absurd ! " thought the girl. " Being a little late is 
 a disturbance in the family." But she hastened on, followed 
 by the girl, who was employed in the capacity of waitress. 
 This girl. Zany by name, resented in accordance with her 
 
II 
 
 , /,' 
 
 I I 
 
 I I 
 
 j I 
 
 .M 
 
 13 
 
 'M//.S'^' LOU."' 
 
 own ideas and rharac tcr the principle of repression which 
 dominated the liouschold. She threw a kiss towards the 
 cabin under the trees and shook with silent laughter as she 
 muttered, " Dat fer you, Clhunk. You do beat'nst nigger I 
 eber see. You mos' ez bro'd ez I is high, yit you'se reachiii' 
 artcr me. I des like ter kill mysef lafin' wen we dance 
 tergeder," and she indulged in a jig-step and antics beiiind 
 Miss Lou's back until she came in sight of the windows, then 
 appeared as if following a hearse. 
 
 Miss Lou entered the rear door of the long, two-story 
 house, surrounded on thiee sides by a wide piaz/a. Mr. 
 Baron, a stout, bald-headed old gentleman, was fuming \\\\ 
 and down the dining-room while his wife sat in grim silence 
 at the foot of the table. It was evident that they had made 
 stiff, old-fashioned toilets, and both looked askance at the 
 flushed face of the almost breathless girl, still in her simple 
 morning costume, iiefore she could speak her uncle said, 
 severely, " Since we have waited so long, we will still wait till 
 you can dress." 
 
 The girl was glad to escape to her room in order that she 
 might have time to frame some excuse before she faced the 
 inquisition in store for her. 
 
 Constitutional traits often assert themselves in a manner 
 contrary to the prevailing characteristics of a region. Instead 
 of the easy-going habits of life common to so many of his 
 neighbors, Mr. Baron was a martinet by nature, and the 
 absence of large, engrossing duties permitted his mind to 
 dwell on little things and to exaggerate them out of all pro- 
 portion. Indeed, it was this utter lack of perspective in his 
 views and judgments which created for Miss Lou half her 
 trouble. The sin of tardiness which she had just committed 
 was treated like a great moral transgression, or rather it was 
 so frowned upon that it were hard to say how he could show 
 his displeasure at a more heinous offence. The one thought 
 
so.)//-: T///XG //A/'/'/uVS. 
 
 13 
 
 2Ssion which 
 towards the 
 ghter as she 
 'nst nigger I 
 u'se reachin' 
 ;n we (lance 
 intics beliind 
 inclows, then 
 
 ig, two-story 
 piazza. Mr. 
 IS fuming up 
 grim silence 
 ley had made 
 ;kance at the 
 in her simple 
 !r uncle said, 
 11 still wait till 
 
 irder that she 
 [he faced the 
 
 in a manner 
 tion. Instead 
 
 many of his 
 |ure, and the 
 
 his mind to 
 lit of all pro- 
 bective in his 
 JLou half her 
 1st committed 
 
 rather it was 
 
 |e could show 
 
 one thought 
 
 now in Mr. Baron's mind was that the sacred routine of the 
 day had been broken. Often there are no greater devotees 
 to routine than those who are virtually idlers. Endowed with 
 the fi[ift of persistence rather than with a resolute will, it had 
 become second nature to maintain the daily order of action 
 and thought which he believed to be his right to enforce 
 upon his household, Kvery one chafed under his inexorable 
 system except his wife. She had married when young, had 
 grown up into it, and supi)lemented it with a system of her 
 own which took the form of a scrupulous and periodical 
 attention to all little details of housekeeping. There was a 
 constant friction, therefore, between the careless, indolent 
 natures of the slaves and the precise, exacting recpiirements 
 of both master and mistress. Miss Lou, as she was gener- 
 ally called on the plantation, had grown up into this rou- 
 tine as a flower blooms in a stiff old garden, and no amount 
 of repression, admonition and exhortation, not even in her 
 younger days of punishment, could ([uench her spirit or 
 benumb her mind. She submitted, she yielded, with vary- 
 ing degrees of grace or reluctance. As she increased in 
 years, her thoughts, as we have seen, were, verging more and' 
 more on the border of rebellion. But the habit of obedience 
 and submission ^still had its influence. Moreover, there had 
 been no strong motive and little opportunity for independent 
 action. Hoping not even for tolerance, much less for 
 sympathy, she kept her thoughts to herself, except as she 
 occasionally relieved her mind to her old mammy, Aun' 
 Jinkey. 
 
 She came into the dining-room hastily at last, but the 
 expression of her face was impassive and inscrutable. She 
 was received in solemn silence, broken at first only by the 
 long formal grace which Mr. Baron never omitted and never 
 varied. In her rebellious mood the girl thought, " What 
 a queer God it would be if he were pleased with this old 
 
•>>•• ■« 01 *^ u r ,4! ;'^.y" 
 
 ■ 1" 
 
 \4\ 
 
 Ml- 
 
 I ! 
 
 I- 
 
 •II 
 
 M 
 
 ".J//.VV /.(Or. " 
 
 rut-and-dried form of words ! All the time uncle's saviiv' 
 them he is thiiikinLj liow he'll show luc his (lis|)loasurc." 
 
 Mr. l).ii(Hi cvidt'r.tly concluded tiiat his best metiiod at 
 first would be an expression of offended dii^nity, and the 
 nieal began in dej)ressint; silence, which Mrs. Baron wa^ 
 naturally the first lo break. "It must be evident to you, 
 Louise," she said in a thin, monotonous voice, *' that the lun.- 
 • has come for you to consider and revise your condtu t. 'riie 
 fact that your uncle has been ke|)t waiting for his su|)i)er i^ 
 only one result of an unhai)i)y change which 1 have observed, 
 but have forborne to speak of in the hope that your uw:i 
 conscience and the inlluence of your past training would 
 lead you to consider and conform. 'I'hink of the precious 
 moments, indeed [ may say hours, that you have wasted 
 this afternoon in idle converse with an old negress who is u > 
 fit companion for you I You are becoming too old — " 
 
 "Too old, aunt? Do you at last recognize the fact that 
 I am growing older?" 
 
 With a faint expression of surprise dawning in her impas- 
 sive face Mrs. Baron continued: "Yes, old enough to 
 remember yourself and not to be compelled to recogni/e 
 the duties of approaching womanhood. I truly begin l<i 
 feel that I must forbid these visits to an old, ignorant and 
 foolish creature whose ideas are totally at variance with all 
 that is proper and right." 
 
 " Uncle thinks I have approached womanhood sufficiently 
 near to know something of my business affairs, and even 
 went so iivr as to suggest his project of marrying me to my ' 
 cousin in order to unite in sacred — I mean legal bonds the| 
 two plantations." 
 
 The two old people looked at each other, then stared at' 
 '^ their niece, who, with hot face, maintained the pretence ot 
 eating her supper. "Truly, Louise," began Mr. Baron. 
 solemnly, "you are indulgmg in strange and unbecoming 
 
soAtr. Tiirxc ir. t rr/ixs. 
 
 «5 
 
 n^ 
 
 \u(:lc's sayiiu 
 ilcasure." 
 :st inctliod al 
 rnity, and tlu' 
 rs. liaron was 
 ■idcnl U> you, 
 ' that the 'ai»K' 
 r.ondui t. 'V\\^ 
 ir his snpiHT i-- 
 have ()\)servc(l. 
 tluit your own 
 training would 
 of the i)rec:iou^ 
 )U have wasted 
 •(ircss who is n > 
 oo old — " 
 ^e the fact that 
 
 r hi her impa^ 
 old enough I" 
 d to recogni/A: 
 truly begin M 
 1, ignorant and 
 ariance with all 
 
 lood sufficiently 
 ffairs, and even 
 rying me to my^ 
 legal bonds the 
 
 then stared at] 
 |the pretence o\ 
 kn Mr. Baron, 
 [nd unbecoming 
 
 language. I have revealed to you your pecuniary affairs, 
 and I have more than once suggested an alliance whith is in 
 ai:< ordance with our wishes and your interests, iu order to 
 prove to you how scrupulous we ar»i in promoting your wel- 
 fare. We look for grateful recognition and a wise, persistent 
 ctfort on your part to further our efforts in your behalf." 
 
 " It doesn't seem to me wise to talk to a mere child about 
 property and marriage," said the girl, breathing (juickly in 
 the consciousness of her temerity and her rising spirit of 
 rebellion. 
 
 " Vou are ceasing to he a mere child," resumed her uncle, 
 severely. 
 
 '*'I'hat cannot be," Miss I.ou interruj)ted. "You and 
 aunt speak to me as you did years ago when I was a child. 
 Can you expect me to have a wouian's t'orni and not a 
 woman's mind? Are women told exactly what they must 
 think and do, like little children? Aunt threatens to forbid 
 visits to my old mammy. If I were but five years old she 
 couldn't do more. You speak of marrying me to my cousin 
 as if I had merely the form and appearance of a woman, and 
 no mind or wishes of mv own. I have never said I wanted 
 to marry him or any one." 
 
 " Why, Louise, you are verging towards flat rebellion," 
 gaspod her uncle, laying down his knife and fork. 
 
 ''Oh, no, uncle! I'm merely growing up. You should 
 have ke])t the library locked ; you should never have had me 
 taught to read, if you expected me to become the mere shell 
 [of a woman, having no ideas of my own." 
 
 " We wish you to have ideas, and have tried to inculcate 
 right ideas." 
 
 " Which means only your ideas, uncle." 
 
 '* Louise, are you losing your mind? " 
 
 " No, uncle, I am beginning to find it, and that I have a 
 [right to use it. I am willing to pay all due respect and 
 
->, \j0*'.'i^if)f4m>*TC A--. 
 
 ' 
 
 i6 
 
 M//a:s- LOl/r' 
 
 deference to you and to aunt, but 1 protest against being 
 treated as a child on one hand and as a wax figure whic Ii 
 can be stood up and married to anybody on the other. 
 1 have patiently borne this treatment as long as I can, and I 
 now reckon the time has come to end it." 
 
 Mr. Baron was thimderstruck and his wife was feeling for 
 her smelling-bottle. Catching a glimpse of Zany, where she 
 stood open-mouthed in her astonishment, her master said, 
 sternly, " Leave the room ! " Then he added to his niece, 
 *• Think of your uttering such wild talk before one of our 
 people ! Don't you know that my will must be law on thi^ 
 plantation? " 
 
 *' I'm not one of your people," responded the girl, 
 haughtily. " I'm your niece, and a Southern girl who will IVe: 
 call no man master." iut i 
 
 At this moment there was a knock at the door. Without lay 
 waiting for it to be opened, a tall, lank man entered and said, laro 
 .hastily, " Mr. Baron, I reckon there's news which yer orter |f th 
 hear toreckly." He was the overseer of the plantation. pr u 
 
 nm( 
 m( 
 ^hiL 
 >tee 
 ir 
 
 St, 
 
 an 
 ni 
 
 )Ut 
 
 rt ( 
 (ife, 
 
 a 
 
 use 
 r. 
 ime 
 
MaD whately. 
 
 17 
 
 est against being 
 wax figure whicli 
 :ly on the other, 
 ig as I can, and 1 
 
 fe was feehng for 
 f Zany, where she 
 :, her master said, 
 ded to his niece, 
 before one of our 
 List be law on thi^ 
 
 iponded the girl, 
 hern girl who will 
 
 le door. Without 
 n entered and said, 
 ws which yer orter 
 le plantation. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MAD WHATtLY. 
 
 f R. BARON was one of the few of the landed gentry in 
 JL the region who was not known by a military title, and 
 e rather prided himself on the fact. " I'm a man of peace," 
 e was accustomed to say, and his neighbors often remarked, 
 Yes, Baron is peaceable if he has his own way in every thing, 
 Lit there's no young blood in the county more ready for a 
 ay than he for a lawsuit," "Law and order" was Mr. 
 aron's motto, but by tttese terms he meant the perpetuity 
 " the conditions under which he and his ancestors had thus 
 r lived. To distrust these conditions was the crime of 
 rimes. In his estimation, therefore, a Northern soldier was 
 monster surpassed only by the out-and-out abolitionist, 
 'hile it had so happened that, even as a young man, his 
 tes had been legal rather than military, he regarded the 
 r of secession as more sacred than any conflict of the 
 St, and was willing to make great sacrifices for its main- 
 ance. He had invested all his funds as well as those of 
 niece in Confederate bonds, and he had annually con- 
 uted a large portion of the product of his lands to the sup- 
 t of the army. Li^'ing remote from the scenes of actual 
 fe, he had been able to maintain his illusions and hopes 
 a far greater extent than many others of like mind with 
 iself; but as the war drew towards its close, even the 
 newspapers he read were compelled to justify their 
 me in some degree by giving very unpalatable information. 
 
<»►*"*-"• . 
 
 . , •j0^-^'*-i>k*V>-T .dX^T^." 
 
 i 
 
 
 IM 
 
 
 
 I 
 » 
 
 I 
 
 ! 1 
 
 h 
 
 )■ 
 
 I ! 
 
 i8 
 
 "A//SS LOU. 
 
 IT 
 
 lis 
 
 oil 
 en 
 oil 
 
 As none are so blind as those who will not see, the old man 
 had testily pooh-poohed at what he termed " temporary 
 reverses," and his immunity from disturbance had confirmed 
 his belief that the old order of things could not materially 
 change. True, some of his slaves had disappeared, but lie 
 had given one who had been caught such a lesson tiiat the 
 rest had remained quiet if not contented. 
 
 The news brought by his overseer became therefore more^ph 
 disturbing than the strange and preposterous conduct of hislvis 
 niece, and he had demanded excitedly, " What on earth's 
 the matter, Perkins?" 
 
 " Well, sir, fur's I kin mek out, this very plantation's been 
 p'hited by Yankee soldiers this very evenin'. Yes, sir." 
 
 " Great heavens ! Perkms," and Mr. Uaron sprung from 
 his chair, then sank back again with an expression suggest- 
 ing that if the earth opened next it could not be worse. 
 
 "Yes, sir," resumed Perkins, solemnly, " I drawed th;it 
 much from Jute. He seen 'em hisself. I noticed a s'presse 
 'citement en talk in the quarters this evenin', an' I follerei; 
 hit right up an' I ast roun' till I pinned Jute. He was ovt 
 the fur side of the run lookin' fur a stray crow, an' he see 
 'eia. But they was bein' chased lively. Mad Wiiately 
 beg pardon — Mr. Madison was arter them with whip aiu 
 spur. Didn't yer hear a crack of a rifle? I did, and rcfh 
 oned it was one o' the Simcoe boys out gunnin', but Jii'r 
 says hit was one o' our men fired the shot, en that thev 
 chased the Yanks to'erds the big woods. They was ; 
 mounted en goin' it lickity switch. The thing that sticks ;^j 
 my crop isn't them few what Mr. Madison chased, but tk 
 main body they belongs to. Looks as ef there's goin' tok 
 a raid down our way." 
 
 " If that is so," said Mr. Baron, majestically, " Lieutenar' 
 Whately proves that our brave men are not far oft', eithc 
 and the way he chased some of them shows how all the vilj 
 
 iurs 
 
 le 
 
 (( 
 
 en 
 
 m 
 
 "] 
 
 nv 
 
 rti 
 
 "> 
 
 "J 
 
 th 
 
 dl 
 
 "V 
 
 lOl 
 
 ''I 
 
MAD WHATELY. 
 
 19 
 
 see, the old man 
 
 ■med " temporary 
 ice had confirmed 
 aid not materially 
 sappeared, but he 
 a lesson that the 
 
 me therefore more 
 jUS conduct of his 
 "What on earth's 
 
 nvaders will eventually be driven out of the country. Be 
 
 vigilant, Perkins, and let it be understood at the quarters 
 that Lieutenant \Vhately is within call." 
 
 The overseer bowed awkwardly and limped away. His 
 lameness had secured him immunity from military duty. 
 
 " Ah, that's a man for you," said Mr. Baron, glaring at 
 his niece. '* Your cousin is a true scion of Southern chivalry. 
 That is the kind of a man you do not know whether you 
 wish to marry or not — a brave defender of our hearths and 
 liberties." 
 
 '• If he wishes to marry me against my will, he's not a 
 y plantation's been defender of my liberty," retorted the girl, 
 n'. Yes, sir." ■ '• If you had the spirit which should be your birthright 
 liaron sprung frcmjour eyes would flash with joy at the prospect of seeing a 
 expression sugge^t-^ero who could thus chase your enemies from our soil. If 
 
 ou could only have seen him in his headlong — " 
 *' I did see him." 
 '• What : " 
 
 '• I saw Cousin Madison leading a dozen or more men in 
 lursuit o^ half a dozen. I'hat does not strike me as sub- 
 [lely heroic." 
 
 " Why haven't you told me of this? How could you have 
 en him?" and the old man, in his strong excitement, rose 
 m his chair. 
 
 " My reception when I entered was not conducive . to 
 nversation, I was merely sitting by the run and saw both 
 rties gallop ))ast." 
 
 •' You should have come instanUy to me." 
 " I'm sure I came in hastily," she icpHed, crimsoning 
 the consciousness of her secret, " but I was met as if I 
 d been guilty of :iomething awful." 
 
 " Well, if I had known," began her uncle, in some con- 
 ion, mistaking her color for an expression of anger. 
 ' I think," remarked her aunt, coldly, " that Louise should 
 
 y 
 
 »f; 
 
 not be worse, 
 y, '' I drawed thnj 
 noticed a s'presscd 
 nin', an' I follereil 
 ute. He was ovej 
 
 crow, an' he seej 
 Mad Whately 
 
 m with whip aiKJ 
 ? I did, and reck j 
 
 gunnin', but Jut^ 
 
 shot, en that the;] 
 ds. They was 
 diing that sticks 
 on chased, but i 
 
 there's goin' to^f* 
 
 ically, " Lieutenarj 
 not far off, eithel 
 
li 
 
 I 
 
 
 )' 
 
 I I 
 
 j 
 
 t 
 
 '1 
 
 '1 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 20 
 
 "/1//.VA' Lcn/.'' 
 
 have recognized that she had given you just cause for dis- 
 pleasure by her tardiness, unless it were explained, and sht- 
 should have explained at once. I have no patience with 
 the spirit she is displaying." 
 
 But Mr. Baron's mind had been diverted to more serious 
 and alarming considerations than what he characterized 
 mentally as " a girl's tantrum." 
 
 " It makes my blood boil," he said, '' to think that this 
 Northern s( inn is actually in our neighborhood, and might 
 be at our doors but for my brave nephew. Thanks to him, 
 they met a righteous reception on this plantation ; thanks to 
 him, in all probability, we are not now weltering in our 
 blood, with the roof that shelters us blazing over our heads. 
 If those marauders had found us unprotected, young woman J 
 you would have rued the day. Their capacity for evil 
 only e(iualled by their opportunities. If your cousin hact^j 
 not flamed after them like an avenging sword you might'l 
 have cried loudly enough for the one of whom, in your rit| 
 of unseemly petulance, you can speak so slightingly, 
 advise you to go to your room and thank Heaven for youtj 
 escape." 
 
 " Uncle, are the people of the North savages? " 
 
 " Its soldiers a*"-' worse than savages. Have you nolj 
 heard me express my opinion of tliem over and over again! 
 Go to your room, and when you ajjpear again, I trus? it wil 
 be with the meekness and submission becoming in a yoiind 
 woman." 
 
 When the girl left Aun' Jinkey's cabin the young soldierl 
 looked after her with an expression of deep interest. " WlvA 
 is she? " he asked. 
 
 " Dat's Miss Lou," said the old negress, forcing into his 
 mouth another spoonful of her fiery decoction. 
 
 " Oh, that's enough, aunty, unless you wish to burn \m 
 out like a hollow log," and he struggled to his feet to '\m 
 
MAD ir//.t TEL Y. 
 
 21 
 
 ust cause for dis- 
 
 ;xplained, and she 
 
 no patience witli 
 
 ed to more serious 
 he characterized 
 
 to think that tliis 
 orhood, and might 
 /. Thanks to him 
 mtation ; thanks to 
 w weltering in our 
 
 his tendency to strangle. "Miss Lou? How should I 
 know who she is?" 
 
 Ob co'se," said Aun' Jinkey, dryly, ''T ain' namin' her 
 ])edigree." 
 
 " Vou a Linkum man, ain' you?" Chunk asked, quickly. 
 " Yes, and Lincoln is a good friend of yours." 
 '• Hi ! I knows dat. Wat fer you so hidin'-in-de-grass, 
 granny? No use bein' dat away wid a Linkum man." 
 
 " I ain' taikin' 'bout my young mistis to folks ez drap 
 down fum de clouds." 
 
 Vou wouldn't like me better if I came up from below, 
 anntv. There now, I'm not a very bad fellow, and I l)elong 
 ing over our heads. Ito the army that's going to make you all free." 
 cted, young woman,! - i hasn't des tink out dis question ob bein' free yit. I'se 
 capacity for evil '■ loo ole to wuk much an' old mars'r's took keer on me long 
 \{ your cousin had^lme." 
 sword you mightl <' Well, I'se tink it out," put in Chunk, decidedly ; ''en 
 whom, in your fitSse able to wuk fer you en me too." 
 
 so slightingly. IM '• You mighty peart, Chunk, co'tin' a gal like a bean-pole 
 Heaven for youipready. I reck'n she spen' all you eber mek. You bettah 
 
 os' de Linkum man inter dat ar lof sud'n, kase ef Marse 
 avages?" Berkins cotch 'im yere we all ain' feelin' berry good 
 
 cs. Have you noiBmeby." 
 
 ver and over agninijl'' Dat ar trucr'n preachin'," admitted Chunk, with alacrit) . 
 
 )es you tek hoi' ob dem ladder rouns. mars'r, an' put yo' 
 
 ts on my sho'lers. Dat's hit. Nobody tink ob fin'in' you 
 
 re. I'se study how ter git yo' boss out ob sight 'gin 
 
 3. 
 
 again, I trust it wil 
 ecoming in a yoiinJ 
 
 the young so 
 
 >ep 
 
 interest. 
 
 klicrl 
 
 Wli.J 
 
 iwnm 
 
 '' You stand by me. Chunk," said the soldier, " and you 
 n't be sorrv. There's a lot of us coming this wav soon, 
 d I (\'m be a good friend of yours and all your people if 
 u help me out of this scrape." 
 u wish to burn iwM" I'se gwine ter stan' by you, boss. I'se mek up my min' 
 to his feet to <m>w be free dis time, sho I Hi ! w'at dat?" 
 
 ?ss, forcing into r,;^| 
 )ction. 
 
. I i 
 
 I 
 
 1!'^ 
 
 I l! 
 
 II 
 
 I I i| 
 
 
 1 :, I 1 ' 
 
 ji; in 
 
 Ml, 
 ; i I 
 
 I M 
 
 22 
 
 "A//SS LOU,'' 
 
 He was wonderfully agile, for his arms were nearly as loiv 
 as his legs. Tn an instant he descended, drawing a tni])! 
 door after him. Then ho sauntered to the door, which Inj 
 opened wide. A trooj) of horsemen were coming single fikj 
 by a i)ath which led near the cabin, and the foremost askcMJ 
 in a voice which the negro recognized as that of Lieutenant 
 Whately, " Is that you, L'hunk ? " 
 
 " Dat's me, mars'r. My 'specs." 
 
 "Be off, you skeleton. Make time for the house and 
 help get supper for me and the men. If you don't run liki 
 a red deer, I'll ride you down. 
 
 "Good Lawd ! w'at gwine ter hap'n nex'?" groaned 
 Chunk, as he disappeared towards the mansion. He bin--, 
 like a bomb-shell into the kitchen, a small building in thj 
 rear of the house. 
 
 " Did you eber see de likes? " exclaimed Zany. " W'li; 
 yo' manners " — 
 
 " Hi, dar ! talk 'bout manners ! Marse Whately comi 
 wid a army, en want suj)per fer um all in des one minute c 
 er haf by de clock !" 
 
 (ireat, fat Aun' Suke threw up her hands in despair, ai< 
 in the brief silence the tramp of horses and the jingling (I 
 sabres were plainly heard. They all knew Mad Whate)] 
 and it needed not that Mrs. Baron, desperately flunicj 
 should bustle in a few moments later with orders that J 
 hands should fly around. "What you doing here?" si 
 asked Chunk, sharply. 
 
 " I'se here ter hep, mistis. Dem's my orders from Mar-j 
 Whately. He come ridin' l)y granny's." 
 
 "Then go and kill chickens." 
 
 A few moments later the dolorous out' "-y of fowls \v-| 
 added to the uproar made by the barking dogs. 
 
 With a chill of fear Miss Lou, in her chamber, recognizij 
 her cousin's voice, and knew that he, with his band, hi 
 
AfAI) WlfATELY. 
 
 23 
 
 imed Zany. '' Wh 
 
 \y orders from Mar> 
 
 Jome to claim hospitality at his uncle's hands. NVhat com- 
 llications did his presence portend ? 'IVuly, the long months 
 |f monotony on the old pLmtation were broken now. What 
 ic end would be she dared not think, but for the moment 
 ler spirit cxulleil in the excitement wliich would at least 
 |anish stagnation. 
 
 In his secret heart Mr. Baron had hoped that his nephew 
 
 I'ould go on to his own home, a few miles further; for 
 
 Ijjplautling him as a hero was one thing, and having him 
 
 urn every thing upside down at that hour another. Routine 
 
 Ind order were scattered to the winds whenever Mad 
 
 ^'hately made his appearance, but the host's second 
 
 loughts led him to remember that this visitation was 
 
 jfinitely to be preferred to one from the terrible Yankees ; 
 
 he threw wide open the door, and, with his wife, greeted 
 
 |s nephew warmly. Then he shouted for Perkins to come 
 
 id look after the horses. 
 
 "Ah, mine uncle," cried Whately, "where on earth is to 
 
 found a festive board like yours ? Who so ready to fill 
 
 flowing bowl until even the rim is lost to sight, when 
 
 ur defenders have a few hours to spare in their hard 
 
 iipaigning? You won'i entertain angels unawares to- 
 
 [ht. You'd have been like Daniel in the den with none 
 
 stop the lions' mouths, or rather the jackals', had we not 
 
 )eared on the scene. The Yanks were bearing down for 
 
 like the wolf on the fold. Where's my pretty cousin?" 
 
 iMr. Baron had opened his mouth to speak several times 
 
 'ring this characteristic greeting, and now he hastened to 
 
 foot of the stairs and shouted, " Louise, come down and 
 
 [Ip your aunt entertain our guests." Meanwhile Whately 
 
 Jpped to tht, sideboard and helped himself liberally to the 
 
 irry. r 
 
 "You know we must maintain discipline," resumed 
 lately, as his uncle entered the dining-room. " The night 
 
, \J0* * ^ ***r 
 
 24 
 
 "Afrss LOIV 
 
 i ll 
 
 /(■I 
 
 ) 
 
 
 i 
 
 is mild and still. Let a long ta])le be set on the piaz/a tor 
 my men. I can then pledge them through the open win 
 dow, fo^ since I give them such hard service, I must make- 
 amends when I can. Ah, Perkins, have your people ml) the 
 horses till they are ready to prance, tiien feed them lightlv 
 two hours later a heavier feed, that's a good fellow ! Von 
 were born under a lucky star, uncle. You might now I)e 
 tied up by your thumbs, while the Yanks helped them- 
 selves." 
 
 " It surely was a kind Providence which brought you here. 
 nephew." ^ 
 
 "No doubt, no doubt; my good horse, also, and, I inn 
 add, the wish to see my pretty cousin. Ah ! here she conn: 
 with the blushes of the morning on her cheeks," but hi 
 warmer* than a cousinly embrace and kiss left the crimson oi 
 anger in their places. 
 
 She drew herself up indignantly to her full height and saii 
 *' We have been discussing the fact that I am quite grow 
 up. I will thank j(??/ to note the change, also." 
 
 "Why, so I do," he replied, regarding her with undis 
 guised admiration ; " and old Father Time has touched yoi 
 only to improve you in every respect." 
 
 " Very well, then," she replied, coldly, " I cannot helj 
 the touch of Father Time, but I wish it understood that 
 am no longer a child." 
 
 " Neither am I, sweet cousin, and I like you as a wonia 
 far better." 
 
 She left the room abruptly to assist her aunt. 
 
 "Jove ! uncle, but she has grown to be a beauty. How 
 these girls blossom out when their time comes ! Can it b. 
 that I have been absent a year? " 
 
 " Yes, and your last visit was but a flying one." 
 
 " And so I fear this one must be. The Yanks are on tii 
 move, perhaps in this direction, and so are we. It was (jik 
 
\fAn wrfA'rr.r.v 
 
 25 
 
 et on the piaz/a tor 
 rough the open win- 
 service, I must UKike 
 ; your people rub tin.' 
 in feed them hghtly, 
 I good fellow ! Von 
 You might now bt 
 Yanks helped them 
 
 ich brought you here. 
 
 arse, also, and, I in.uj 
 
 Ah ! here she conu--^ 
 
 her cheeks," but h 
 
 iss left the crimson oi| 
 
 ^.x full height and said 
 at I am quite grow 
 ge, also." 
 ing her with undisl 
 ime has touched yoii 
 
 c 
 
 dly, " I cannot hclj 
 it understood that 
 
 like you as a womai 
 
 ler aunt, 
 be a beauty. Ho\v| 
 comes ! Can it b> 
 
 ying one." 
 'he Yanks are on tiv: 
 are we. It was om] 
 
 1" tlit'ir scouting parties tiiat we ran into. 'I'heir horses were 
 •(.slier tiian ours and they separated when once in the shadow 
 f the woods. They won't be slow, however, in leaving these 
 tills, \\\)\\ they know we are here. I'm going to take a little 
 ell earned rest between my scoutings, and make love to my 
 uiisin. Olympian humbugs ! how handsome and haughty 
 he lias become I 1 didn't think the little minx had so much 
 piril." 
 
 '• She has suddenly taken the notion that, since she is 
 rowing up, she can snap her fingers at all the powers that 
 le." 
 
 " (Irowing up! Why, uncle, she's grown, and ready to 
 |ear nie say, ' With all my worldly goods I thee endow.' " 
 '• But the trouble is, she doesn't act as if very ready," 
 " Oh, tush ! she isn't readv to throw herself at the head of 
 ly one. That isn't the way of Southern girls. They want 
 wooer like a cyclone, who carries them by storm, marries 
 lem nolens 7'oiens, and then they're hai)py. But to be 
 [rious, uncle, in these stormy times Lou needs a protector, 
 lu've escaped for a long time, but no one can tell now 
 lat a day will bring forth. As my wife, Cousin Lou will 
 [mmand more respect. I can take her within our lines, if 
 essary, or send her to a place of safety. Ah, here comes 
 blooming aunt to prepare for supper." 
 'Welcome to The Oaks," she again repeated. "Never 
 ►re welcome, since you come as defender as well as guest." 
 "Yes, aunt; think of a red-whiskered Yank paying his 
 >pects instead of me." 
 [*' Don't suggest such horrors, please." 
 'he gentlemen now joined Miss Lou in the parlor, while 
 ier Mrs. Baron's supervision Zany, and Chunk, as gardener 
 man-of-all-work, with the aid of others soon set the 
 tables. Then began a procession of negroes of all sizes 
 iring viands from the kitchen. 
 
),i 
 
 I' I 
 
 ')-; 
 
 il! 
 
 ; I : I 
 
 i! 
 
 f. I 
 
 26 
 
 "J/AS\V ZO^/. " 
 
 ClIAPrilK IV. 
 
 AUN' JINKF.v'S I'OLICV. 
 
 A 
 
 LL^N SCOVILLE, for such was the Union soUlier'^ 
 name, fully realized that he was in the enemy's coim-j 
 try as he watched through a cranny in the cabin the shadowj 
 forms of the Confederates file past. Every bone in \\i\ 
 body ached as if it had been broken, and more than oik 
 he moved his arms and legs to assure himself that they wc 
 whole. *' lireath was just knocked right out of me," he mm 
 tered. " I hope that's tne worst, for this place may soo 
 become too hot for me. My good horse is not only lost] 
 but I may be lost also through him. That queer-look i 11 ;j 
 darky. Chunk, is my best hope now unless it is Miss Lois 
 ])roll, wasn't it, that I should take her for an angel? \Vh;i 
 (jueer thoughts a fellow has when within half an inch of ilij 
 seamy side of life ! Hanged if I deserve such an awakeniiij 
 as I thought w^as blessing my eyes on the other side. VroA 
 the way I ache, the other oide mayn't be far off yet. Likl 
 enougli hours will pass before Chunk comes back, and 
 must try to propitiate his grandam." 
 
 He crawled painfully to the trap-door and, finding a chin! 
 in the boards, looked down into the apartment below. Atiill 
 Jinkey was smoking as composedly it might seem as i 
 terrible Yankee, never seen before, was not over her head| 
 and a band of Confederates who would have made him 
 prisoner and punished her were only a few rods awa\ . 
 close observer, however, might have noticed that slie nv;J 
 not enjoying languid whiffs, as had been the case in tij 
 
/f try ' jixK'E J".v no I re v. 
 
 27 
 
 the Union soldier' 
 n the enemy's conn- 
 lie cabin the shadow)! 
 Every bone in h: 
 and more than un<' 
 limself that they wc 
 t out of me," he mmi 
 this place may soi)i| 
 orse is not only lost] 
 
 That queer-look i 
 
 nless it is Miss l.o'' 
 
 or an angel? W h 
 
 half an inch of tlij 
 e such an awaken in 
 ic other side. Froi 
 »e far off yet. LikI 
 comes back, and 
 
 and, finding a chu 
 tment below. AuilJ 
 might seem as if 
 s not over her headj 
 d have made hiiu 
 
 few rods awa\. 
 loticed that she w;] 
 )een the case in til 
 
 ^ernoon. Tlu' old woman had put guile into her pipe as 
 
 \\\ as tobacco, and she hoped its smoke would blind siis- 
 
 ious eyes if any were hunting for a stray \'ankee. 
 
 link's poni" and bacon had been put \\v:\x the tire to 
 
 lep warm, and Scoville looked at tiie viands longingly. 
 
 At la^t he ventured to whis])er, '"Ann' jinkey. I am as 
 
 liigry as a wolf." 
 
 Mesh ' " said tiie old woman softlv. Then she rose, 
 locked the ashes from her pij)e with great deliberation, 
 id taking a bucket, started for \\\v. sjjring. In going and 
 MTiing she looked very sharply in all directions, thus satis- 
 ing herself that no one was watching the cabin. Re-enter- 
 [. she whisi)ered, " Kin you lif de trajxlo'?" 
 |Stoville ()i)ened it, and was abovit to descend. " No, you 
 mt do dat," interposed Aun' Jinkey, ([uickly. *' Lie down 
 dar, en I han' you Chunk's supper. He git his'n at de 
 house. You's got ter play possum right smart, mars'r, 
 lyou git cotched. Den we cotch it, too. \'ou 'speck [ 
 m know de resk Chunk en me tookin ? " 
 I' I'orgive me, .'Xunt Jinkey. But your troubles will so(jn 
 [over and you be as free as I am." 
 
 I doesn't want no sech freedom ez you got, mars'r, 
 I'n en scrugin' turn tarin' en rarin' red-hot gallopers ez 
 [d \\'hately en his men. Dey'd des bun de ole cabin en 
 in't ef dey knowed you's dar. liettah stop yo' mouf wid 
 [supper." 
 
 piis Scoville was well contented to do for a time, while 
 
 1' Jinkey smoked and listened with all her ears. Faint 
 
 inds came from the house and the negro (juarters, but 
 
 was still about the cabin. Suddenly she took her ])ipe 
 
 |m her mouth and muttered, "Dar goes a s(|uinch-i)wl 
 
 ^tin'. Dat doan mean no good." 
 
 Aunt Jinkey," said Scoville, who was watching her, '• that 
 
 fech-owl worries you, doesn't it?" 
 
ll 
 
 I I '• 
 
 MM 
 
 lii 
 
 JM l! 
 
 l! 
 
 28 
 
 'M//.S.V /.or\'* 
 
 ** Dere's mo' kin's ob !^[iiiii( h owls dan you 'lows oii 
 mars'r. Some toots fcr dc sake oh lootin'. en some toot 
 in warnin'." 
 
 "That one tooted in warning. I)()n't be surprised if \( 
 Iiear another very near." lie crawled to the cranny uiidij 
 the eaves and Ann' Jinkey fairly jinnj)ed out of her chair a 
 she heard an owl apparently hooting on the roof with a vil(o:I 
 and truth to nature that utterly deceived her seii^c 
 Scoville repeated the signal, and then crept back to 1! 
 chink in tiie floor. The old woman was trembling ai 
 looking round in dismayed uncertainty. "There," he saioj 
 with a low laugh, " that sipiinch-owl was I. and the tir> 
 you heard was one of my men. Now, like a good so;'! 
 make pones and fry bacon f(3r five men, and jou'll liaij 
 friends who will take good care of you and Chunk." 
 
 " l)e Lawd he'p me ! w'at comin' nex'? Miss Lou m;,' 
 wishin' sum])'n ud hap'n — w'at ain' gwinter hap'n?'' 
 
 " Nothing will hai)pen to ha»m you if you do as 1 >:\i 
 Our men may soon be marching this way, and we'll reiiKirj 
 ber our friends when we come." 
 
 " I des hope dere'll be sump'n lef ob me ter reckernicn] 
 ber^" :iid Aun' Jinkey, but she rose to comply with thj 
 soldic's requirement, feeling that her only course was to i, 
 in with the wishes of whoever happened to be uppermost 
 the troublous times now foreseen. She was in a terribi 
 divided state of mind. The questions she had smoked ait 
 thought over so long now pressed with bewildering ra])i(lit 
 and urgency. An old family slave, she had a strong feeliij 
 of loyalty to her master and mistress. But they had W\\ 
 partially alienating Miss Lou, for whom she would open Iv. 
 veins, while her grandson was hot for freedom and look' 
 upon Northern soldiers as his deliverers. Aun' Jinkey \v.j 
 not sure she wished to be deli\'ered. That was one of rli 
 points she was not through " projeckin' " about. Alal 
 
A UN' irXKf'Y'S rot ICY. 
 
 29 
 
 Is (Ian you Mows oil 
 lootiu' en some tunij 
 
 \\ be surprised if v 
 1 to tlic cranny undi;! 
 jd out of her chair ;i| 
 n the roof with a vi^c 
 deceived lier sense 
 ■n crept back li> il 
 n was trembling ;iiiii 
 y. "There," In- ^am 
 I was 1. and the I'lr- 
 3W, like a good sd'i'j 
 men, and you'll lum 
 u and Chunk." 
 lex'? iMiss Lou m;/ 
 winter hai)'n ? '' 
 lu if you do as I >a^ 
 ^vay, and we'll rcuu-nj 
 
 ob mc ter reckernien 
 2 to comply with ll 
 only course was to la 
 ik\ to be uppermost 
 She was in a terrib 
 she had smoked ai 
 \ bewildering rapidi 
 e had a strong feelii 
 Rut they had ba 
 -n she would open In 
 freedom and lookt 
 ■ers. Ann' Jinkey w 
 That was one of tH 
 kin' " about. Ala 
 
 :nts woul<l not wait for her conclusions, although more 
 f had been given her than to many others forced to con- 
 iplate vast changes. With a shrewd simplicity she 
 ided that it would be wise to keep on friendly terms wilii 
 the contending powers, and do what in her judgment 
 best for each. 
 
 got, 
 
 "ked, 
 
 'Hit des took all de Visions v 
 (consolately. 
 
 I" You'll soon have visions of more to eat and wear tlian 
 r blessed your eyes," said Scoville, encouragingly. 
 * Fli ! granny," said Chunk, peeping in at the door. 
 " How you start me ! " ejaculated the old woman, sinking 
 
 her chair. 
 I* That you, Chunk?" asked Scoville. ** Is the coast 
 r?" 
 
 I* I reck'n. Keep shy yet a while, mars'r." A few words 
 [lained the situation, and ( 'hunk atlded : *' You des feed 
 
 Yankees big, granny. I'se pervide mo'. I mus' go now 
 n. Made Aun' Suke b'lebe dat I knovved ob chickens 
 
 roos' in trees, en dey tinks I'se lookin' fer um. High 
 
 times up ter de house," and he disappeared in the 
 
 ness. 
 
 nervous haste Aun' Jinkey prepared the ample supper. 
 
 'ille hooted again, a shadowy form stole to the cabin for 
 
 lod, and disappeared again towards the run. Then Aun' 
 
 ly prepared to compose her nerves by another smoke, 
 and me up a coal for my pipe, also," said Scoville, 
 then we'll have a sociable time." 
 des feared onsosh'ble times dis eb'nin'," remarked 
 
 Jinkey. 
 
 T you knew how my bones ached, you'd help me pass 
 
 Ime." 
 
 Leck'n mine ache, too, 'fo' I troo wid dis bus'ness." 
 
 S^o, Aunt Jinkey, you won't be punished for doing a 
 
•vK^fc-.v ^a j w tr ^t 
 
 30 
 
 ''MJSS LOU." 
 
 I 
 
 good deed. Your young mistress is on your side, anyway. 
 Who is she?" 
 
 " Young mistis ain' got no po'r ef dey fin's out. She nul'f 
 ter do ter hoi' 'er own. 
 
 "How comes it she's friendly to 'we uns,' as you say. 
 down here ? " 
 
 *' She ain' friendly. You drap at b;.r feet ez ef you wuz 
 dead, en she hab a lil gyurlish, soft heart, dat's all. Didn't 
 she tole you dat she ain' on yo' side?" 
 
 "Well, bless her heart, then." 
 
 " I circumscribe ter dat ar." 
 
 " Aren't you on our side ? " 
 
 " I'se des 'twix en 'tween all de sides." 
 
 " You're all right, Aunt Jinkey. I'd trust you with my life." 
 
 " Reck'n you hab ter dis eb'nin'." 
 
 " Well, about Miss Lou — you say she has trouble to hold 
 her own. How's that?" 
 
 " Dem's fambly matters." 
 
 " And so none of my business, unless she tells me herself." 
 
 " How she gwine ter tol' you tings?" 
 
 " Ah, Aunt Jinkey, you've vegetated a great while in these 
 slow parts. I feel it in my bones, sore as they are, that 
 some day I'll give you a new dress that will make you look 
 like a spike of red hollyhocks. You'll see changes you don't 
 dream of." 
 
 " My haid whirlin' now, mars'r. Hope ter grashus I kin 
 do my wuk ter-morr^r in peace and quietness." 
 
 There was neither peace nor quietness at the mansion. 
 Whately, with a soldier's instincts to make the most of pass- 
 ing opportunities, added to the hasty tendencies of his own 
 nature, was not only enjoying the abundant supper, but 
 feasting his eyes meantime on the charms developed by his 
 cousin in his absence. He knew of his uncle's wish to unite 
 the two plantations, and had given his assent to the means, 
 
/ir'A" //.vA'F.v's roi.icv. 
 
 31 
 
 "lese 
 
 that 
 
 00k 
 
 lon't 
 
 kin 
 
 for it had always been his delight to tease, frighten, and pet 
 his little cousin whose promise of beauty had been all that 
 he could desire. Now she evoked a sudden flame of passion, 
 and his miivl, which leaped to conclusions, was already 
 engaged in plans for consummating their union at once. He 
 sought to l)reak down her reserve by paying h(}r extravagant 
 compliments, and to excite her admiration by accounts of 
 battles in which he would not have posed as hero so plainly 
 had he not been flushed with wine. There was an ominous 
 fire in her eyes scarcely in accord with her cool demeanor. 
 Unused to the world, md distrusting her own powers, she 
 made little effort to reply, taking refuge . in comparative 
 silence. This course encouraged him and her uncle. The 
 former liked her manifestation of spirit as long as he believed 
 it to be within control. To his impetuous, imperious nature 
 the idea of a tame, insipid bride was not agreeable ; while 
 Mr. Baron, still under the illusion that she was yet but a 
 submissive child, thought that her bad mood was passing 
 and would l)e gone in the morning. He little dreamed how 
 swiftly her mind was awakening and developing under the 
 spur of events. She did not yet know that her cousin was 
 meditating such a speedy consummation of his purpose, but 
 was aware that he and all her relatives looked upon her as 
 his predestined wife. Now as never before, she shrunk 
 from the relation, and in the instinct of self-preservation 
 resolved never to enter into it. 
 
 Her long, rebellious reveries in solitude had prepared her 
 for this hour, and her proud, excited spirit surprised her by 
 the intensity of its passionate revolt. Not as a timid, shrink- 
 ing maiden did she look at her cousin and his men feasting 
 on the piazza. She glanced at him, then through the open 
 windows at their burly forms, as one might face a menace 
 which brought no thought of yielding. 
 
 The family resemblance between Whately and herself was 
 
 \ 
 
M 
 
 ■II (. 
 If 
 
 32 
 
 MISS LOU. 
 
 strong. He had her blue eyes, but they were smaller than 
 hers, and his expression was bold, verging towards reckless- 
 ness. Her look was steady and her lips compressed into 
 accord with the firm little chin. \ 
 
 Mrs. Baron's ideas of decorum soon brought temporary 
 relief. She also saw that her nephew was becoming too 
 excited to make a good impression, so she said, " Louise, 
 you may now retire, and I trust that you will waken to- 
 morrow to the truth that your natural guardians can best 
 direct your thoughts and actions." 
 
 Whately was about to rise in order to bid an affectionate 
 good-night, but the girl almost fled from the room. In the 
 hall she met Chunk, who whispered, " Linkum man gittin' 
 peart. Miss Lou." 
 
 " She'll be over her tantrum by morning," said Mr. Baron 
 in an apologetic tone. " Perhaps we'll have to humor her 
 more in little things." 
 
 " That's just where the trouble lies, uncle. You and aunt 
 have tried to make her feel and act as if as old as yourselves. 
 She's no longer a child ; neither is she exactly a woman. 
 All young creatures at her age are skittish. Bless you, she 
 wouldn't be a Baron if she hadn't lots of red, warm blood. 
 So much the better. VV'hen I've married her she'll settle 
 down like other Southern girls." 
 
 *' I think we had better discuss these matters more pri- 
 vately, nephew," said Mrs. Baron. 
 
 *' Beg pardon, I reckon we had, aunt. My advice, how- 
 ever, is that we act first and discuss afterward." 
 
 "We'll talk it over to-morrow, nephew," said Mr. Baron. 
 *' Of course as guardian I must adopt the best and safest 
 plan." 
 
 Chunk's ears were long if he was short, and in waiting on 
 a soldier near the window he caught the purport of this 
 fconvrrsation. 
 
whateLy's idea of courtship. 
 
 33 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 whately's idea of courtship. 
 
 pn- 
 
 how- 
 
 iaron. 
 safest 
 
 [g on 
 this 
 
 WHEN waiting on the table, Zany either stood like an 
 image carved out of black walnut or moved with the 
 angular promptness of an automaton when a spring is touched. 
 Only the quick roll of her eyes indicated how observant she 
 was. If, however, she met Chunk in the hall, or anywhere 
 away from observation, she never lost the opportunity to 
 torment him. A queer grimace, a surprised stare, an exas- 
 perating derisive giggle, were her only acknowledgments of 
 his amorous attentions. "Ef I doesn't git eben wid dat 
 niggah, den I eat a mule," he muttered more than once. 
 
 But Chunk was in great spirits and a state of sui)pressed 
 excitement. " 'Pears ez ef I mout own mysef 'fo' dis moon 
 done waxin' en wanin'," he thought. " Dere's big times 
 comin', big times. Fse yeard w'at hap'n w'en de Yanks go 
 troo de kentry like an olc bull in a crock'ry sto'." In his 
 duties of waiting on the troopers and clearing the table he 
 had opportunities of purloining a goodly portion of the viands, 
 for he remembered that he also had assumed the rdle of host 
 with a very meagre larder to draw upon. 
 
 Since the Confederates were greatly wearied and were 
 doubly inclined to sleep from the effects of a hearty supper 
 and liberal potations, Mr. Baron offered to maintain a watch 
 the early part of the nigh'., while Perkins was enjoined 
 to sleep with one eye open near the quarters. Mattresses 
 and quilts were brought down and spread on the piazza floor, 
 
 'i. 
 
 m 
 
^4 
 
 M/SS LOU.'^ 
 
 ■| > I 
 
 i I.I 
 
 ■:; I 
 
 \ I 
 
 from which soon rose a nasal chorus, " des like," as Chunk 
 declared, **a frog-pon' in full bias'." 
 
 Whately, trained in alert, soldierly ways, slept on the sofa 
 in the parlor near his men. One after another the lights 
 were extinguished, and the house became quiet. Chunk was 
 stealing away with his plunder through the shrubbery in the 
 rear of the house, when he was suddenly confronted by Zany. 
 " Hi ! you niggah ! " she whispered, " I'se cotch you now 
 kyarin' off nuff vittles ter keep you a mont. You gwinter 
 run away." 
 
 "You wanter run wid me?" asked Chunk, unabashed. 
 
 "What you took me fer?" 
 
 " Fer better er wuss, w'ite folks say. Reck'n it ud be fer 
 wuss in dis case." 
 
 " I reck'n de wuss ain' fur off. I des step ter ole mars'r 
 an' tell 'im ter Vestigate yo' cabin dis eb'nin'," she said, and, 
 with a great show of offended dignity, she was about to move 
 away. 
 
 " Look yere, Zany, doan yer be a fool. Doan you wanter 
 be a free gyurl?" 
 
 " Ef you had me fer wuss I'd be des 'bout ez free ez Miss 
 Lou w'en she mar'ed ter Mad Whately." 
 Hi ! you year dat, too?" 
 
 I got eyes, en I got years, en you ain' gwinter light out 
 dis night en lebe yo' granny en we uns. I sut'ny put a spoke 
 in yo' wheel dat stop hits runnin'." 
 
 Chunk was now convinced that he would have to take 
 Zany into his confidence. He looked cautiously around, 
 then whispered rapidly in her ear. " Hi ! " she exclaimed,, 
 softly, " you got longer head dan body." 
 
 " I kin reach ter yo' lips," said Chunk, snatching a kiss. 
 
 " Stop dat foolishness ! " she exclaimed, giving him a slight 
 cuff. 
 
 " Zany, keep mum ez a possum, Dere's big times comin', 
 
 u 
 
 II 
 
WHATELY'S IDEA OF COURTSHIP. 
 
 35 
 
 !hunk 
 
 ? sofa 
 lights 
 ik was 
 n the 
 Zany. 
 \ now 
 winter 
 
 id. 
 
 be fer 
 
 mars'r 
 d, and, 
 move 
 
 wanter 
 
 z Miss 
 
 it out 
 I spoke 
 
 take 
 found, 
 ^med,^ 
 
 dss. 
 I shght 
 
 )min', 
 
 en no un kin hender um, dough dey kin git deysefs in a 
 heap ob trouble by blarnations. De Linkum men soon 
 gwine ter be top of de heap en I'se gwinter be on top wid 
 um. Dar you be, too, ef you Stan's by Miss Lou en me." 
 
 " Ve'y well, but I'se gwinter keep my eye on you, Marse 
 Chunk." 
 
 *' Reck'n you will, kaze I ain' gwinter be fur off; en ef 
 you puts yo' eye on some oder man, you soon fin' he ain' 
 dar." With this ominous assurance he stole away. 
 
 Soon afterward the hoot of an owl was heard again ; 
 shadows approached the cabin ; Scovjlle, assisted by Chunk, 
 joined them, and there was a whispered consultation. 
 Scoville put the result in the following words : — 
 
 " The chance is a good one, I admit. It is quite possible 
 that we could capture the Johnnies and their horses, but 
 that's not what we're out for. Besides, I'm too badly 
 brokci. up. I couldn't ride to-night. You must go back 
 to camp, and leave me to follow. Chunk here has provis- 
 ions for you. Better be moving, for Whately will probably 
 be out looking for you in the morning," 
 
 So it was decided, and the shadows disappeared. Scoville 
 was put into Aun' Jinkey's bed, the old woman saying that 
 she would sit up and watch. Chunk rubbed the bruised 
 and aching body of the Union scout till he fell asleep, and 
 then the tireless negro went to the spot where the poor 
 horse had died in the stream. He took off the saddle and 
 bridle. After a little consideration he diverted the current, 
 then dug a hole .on the lower side of the animal, rolled him 
 into it, and changed the brook back into its Old channel. 
 Carefully obliterating ail traces of his work he returned to 
 the cabin, bolted the door, lay down against it so that no 
 one could enter, and was soon asleep. 
 
 The next morning dawned serenely, as if Nature had no 
 sympathy with the schemes and anxieties to which th^ 
 
^^' -iM-^B**)r ^i. 
 
 36 
 
 ''M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 .' i 
 
 several actors in our little drama wakened. Whately was 
 early on foot, for he felt that he had much to accomplish. 
 Mr. Baron soon joined him, and the youni: man found in his 
 uncle a ready coadiutor in his plans. They were both in 
 full accord in their desires, although governed by different 
 motives. The old man was actuated by his long- indulged 
 greed for land, and wholly under the dominion of his belief 
 that one of the chief ends of marriage was to unite estates. 
 In this instance he also had the honest conviction that he 
 was securing the best interests of his niece. No one could 
 tell what would happen if the invaders should appear, but 
 he believed that the girl's future could best be provided 
 for in all respects if she became the wife of a Confederate 
 officer and a represeniative of his family. 
 
 Sounds of renewed life came from all directions ; the 
 troopers rolled up their blankets, and went ^o look after 
 their horses ; Mrs. Baron bustled about, giving directions for 
 breakfast ; Chunk and Zany worked under her eye as if they 
 were what she wished them to be, the automatic performers 
 of her will ; Aun' Suke fumed and sputtered like the bacon 
 in her frying-pan, but accomplished her work with the 
 promptness of one who knew that no excuses would be taken 
 from either master or mistress; Miss Lou dusted the parlor, 
 and listened stolidly to the gallantries of her cousin. He 
 was vastly amused by her reserve, believing it to be only 
 maidenly coyness. 
 
 Breakfast was soon served, for Whately had announced to 
 Mr. Baron his intention of scouting in the woods where the 
 Federals had disappeared ; also his purpose to visit his 
 home and summon his mother to his contemplated wedding. 
 He and his men soon rode away, and the old house and the 
 plantation resumed their normal quiet aspect. 
 
 It had been deemed best not to inform Miss Lou of her 
 cousin's immediate purpose until his plans were a little more 
 
WIIATELY'S IDEA OF COURTSHIP. 
 
 37 
 
 certain and matured. Circumstances might arise which 
 would prevent his return at once. Moreover, he had 
 petitioned for the privilege of breaking the news himself. He 
 believed in a wooing in accordance with his nature, impetu- 
 ous and regardless at the time of the shy reluctance of its 
 object ; and it was his theory that the girl taken by storm 
 would make the most submissive, contented and happy 
 of wives ; that women secretly admired men who thus 
 asserted their will and strength, if in such assertion every 
 form was complied with, and the impression given that the 
 man was resistless because he could not resist the charms 
 which had captivated him. " Why, uncle," he had reasoned, 
 " it is the strongest compliment that a man can pay a woman, 
 and she will soon recognize it as such. When once she is 
 married, she will be glad that she did not have to hesitate 
 and choose, and she will always believe in the man who was 
 so carried away with her that he carried her away. My 
 course is best, therefore, on general principles, while in this 
 particular instance we have every reason for prompt action. 
 T.ou and I have been destined for each other from child- 
 hood, and I'm not willing to leave her to the chances of the 
 hurly-burly which may soon begin. As my wife I can pro- 
 tect her in many ways impossible now." 
 
38 
 
 "4MS.V LOU.'* 
 
 CHAFER VI. 
 
 THE STORM BEGINS. 
 
 \\ 
 
 OF late years Ann' Jinkey's principal work had been t^c 
 fine washing and ironing of the family, in which task 
 she had always been an adept. For this reason she had 
 been given the cabin near the run and an unusually fine 
 spring. Miss Lou felt a kindly solicitude and not a little 
 curiosity in regard to the man who in a sense had been 
 thrown at her feet for protection. So gathering up some of 
 her laces, she made them an excuse for another visit to Ann' 
 Jinkey. Mrs. Baron readily acquiesced, for she felt that if 
 there was to be a wedding, the whole house must be cleaned 
 from top to bottom. Moreover, by such occupation her 
 mind could be diverted from the dire misgivings inspired 
 by the proximity of Yankees. Under the circumstances, it 
 would be just as well if her niece were absent. 
 
 As the girl passed down through the shrubbery, she found 
 Chunk apparently very busy. Without looking up he said, 
 " Doan be afeard, Miss Lou, Lse be on de watch. Marse 
 Linkum man right peart dis mawnin'." 
 
 Aun' Jinkey was at her washtub near the door, and the 
 cabin presented the most innocent aspect imaginable. 
 " Good-morning," said tl:-. girl, affably. " How is your 
 patient?" 
 
 " Recovering rapidly, thanks to your kindness and the 
 good friends in whose care you placed me," answered a 
 hearty voice from the doorway. 
 
en t\e 
 :h task 
 lie hatl 
 lly fine 
 a little 
 d been 
 pme of 
 o Aun' 
 hat if 
 eaned 
 on her 
 ispired 
 nccs, it 
 
 found 
 
 said, 
 
 Marse 
 
 nd the 
 inable. 
 your 
 
 nd the 
 lered a 
 
 THE STORM BEG INS. 
 
 39 
 
 Aun' Jinkey made a sort of rush to the door, exclaiming 
 in tones that were low, yet almost stern, ** Marse Linkum 
 man, ef you show yo'sef — ef you doan stay by dat ar lad- 
 der so you git up sud'n, I des troo wid dis bus'ness ! Tain' 
 far ter dem vv'at's reskin' dere bodies en a'mostdere souls !" 
 
 " You are right, aunty," said Scoville, retreating. " It's 
 wrong for me to do any thing which might bring trouble to 
 you or Chunk ; but I was so eager to thank this other good 
 Samaritan " — 
 
 " Well, den, sit by do Ider dar, en Miss Lou kin sit on 
 de do'step. Den a l:>Gay kin feel tings ain' comin' ter smash 
 'fo' dey kin breve." 
 
 " Good Samaiitan ! " repeated Miss Lou, taking her old 
 place in the doorway where she had so recently wished 
 something would happen ; " you have not fallen among 
 thieves, sir." 
 
 " My fear has been that you would think that a thief had 
 fallen among the good Samaritans. I assure you that I am 
 a Union soldier in good and regular standing." 
 
 " I reckon my uncle and cousin would scout the idea that 
 you, or any of your army, had any standing whatever." 
 
 " That does not matter, so that I can convince you that 
 I would not do or say any thing unbecoming a soldier." 
 
 "You are a Yankee, I suppose?" she asked, looking at 
 him with strong yet shyly expressed interest. 
 
 " I suppose I am, in your Southern vernacular. I am 
 from New York State, and my name is Allan Scoville." 
 
 "Uncle says that you Yankees are terrible fellows." 
 
 "Do I look as if I would harm you, Miss Lou? Pardon 
 me, I do not know how else to address you." 
 
 "Addrecs me as Miss Baron," she replied, with a droll 
 litde assumption of girlish dignity. 
 
 " Well, then, Miss Baron, you have acted the part of a 
 good angel towards me," 
 
 I 
 
 
40 
 
 "M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 ** I don't like anch talk," she rci)lie(l, frowning. "You 
 were merely thrown helpless at my feet. You didn't look 
 as if you could do the South much harm thiMi. \Vhat I 
 may feel to be my duty hereafter " — 
 
 *' I have no fears at all of what you may do," he inter- 
 rupted, with a smile that made his expression very pleasing. 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " Because you arc incapable of betraying even an enemy, 
 which I am not to you. On the contrary, I am a grateful 
 man, who would risk his life to do you a service. The little 
 unpleasantness between the North and South will pass away, 
 and we shall all be friends again." 
 
 " My uncle and cousin — indeed all the people I know — 
 will never look upon you Northern soldiers as friends." 
 
 " Never is a long time. I certainly feel very friendly 
 towards you." 
 
 " I wish you to know that I am a Southern girl," she 
 replied stiffly, "and share in the feelings of my people." 
 
 "Well, I'm a Northern man, and share m the feelings 
 of my people. Can't we agree that this is fair and natural 
 in each case?" 
 
 " But why do you all come marauding and trampling on 
 the South?" 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Miss Baron, but your question opens 
 up all the differences between the two sections. I have my 
 views, but am not a politician — simply a soldier. You and 
 I are not at war. I^et us talk about something else. With 
 your brave cousin enlisting your sympathies against our side, 
 ■vyhat use would there be of my saying any thing? " 
 
 " My brave cousin does not enlist any of my sympathies \ 
 but that, certainly, is a matter which we cannot talk about." 
 Pardon, but your reference to him made it natural " — 
 There is no need of speaking of him," she interrupted, 
 coldly. " I merely meant that he and those with liim in what 
 
 li 
 
 u 
 
 
THE STORM BEGINS. 
 
 41 
 
 ; 
 
 you slightingly term an unpleasantness can never be friendly 
 to you. This war may be a small thing to you, but suppose 
 your home and family were in danger, as ours are? " 
 
 "Can you think that this war is a holiday to me?" he 
 asked, gravely. "What stands between me new and death 
 — perhaps a shameful and horrible death — except your 
 kindly, womanly impulses? I am hourly in danger of being 
 caught and treated as a spy." 
 
 "Oh, I didn't realize it," said the girl, simply and kindly. 
 " Every thing looks so quiet and lovely. Aun' Jinkey, there, 
 my old mammy, is at work just as I have seen her for years, 
 and Chunk is busy yonder in the garden. It is hard to 
 think how suddenly all might change." 
 
 " A soldier mast think and be prepared." 
 
 " Have you no fear? " 
 
 "Life is sweet to me. I know only one thing — I must 
 do my duty and trust in God. I have the consolation that 
 no one is dependent on me ; no one would grieve for me 
 very much. I'm quite alone in the world. My crusty old 
 guardian would inherit my property, and you may well guess 
 that Aunt Jinkey's tub yonder would hold all his tears if I 
 should make a sudden exit," and again he smiled in his 
 pleasant way, as if with the purpose to relieve his words of 
 all sombreness. 
 
 " Are you an orphan, too ? " she asked sym])athetically. 
 
 "Such a mut.ure, fully developed orphan as I am is not an 
 object of pity. Miss T.aron," he replied, laughing. Then he 
 added, a little proudly: "I'm nearly twenty- two ; I was 
 twenty-one on my last birthday, and I celebrated it by a ride 
 only less risky than the one which landed me at your feet. 
 But your little word ' too ' suggests that you are somewhat 
 alone, also. I hope that your father was not killed in this 
 war?" 
 
 " No, my father and mother died long before the war." 
 
42 
 
 "A/ ASS /tV. " 
 
 ** I am ^'1.1(1 of that — not glad that they died, bnl that 
 you cannot associate me with the ( aiises of their death." 
 
 " But you and yours have caused death and suHeriiig to 
 so many Soutlierji people ! " 
 
 "Yes, I'm sorry it is so, hut things are pretty even on that 
 score. Your men give as many blows as they take." 
 
 "Why did you enter the army?" 
 
 " I suppose for about the same reasons that your cousin 
 did." 
 
 "Oh, you aren't like my cousin at all. I don't wish you 
 to keep referring to him." 
 
 "Well, then, I thought it was right. There was an urgent 
 call for men anil strong public feeling. I was at college. I 
 couldn't see others go and not go with them. I had no 
 inlluence, no one to ])usn my interests, so I simply 'enlisted, 
 and am trying to i)ush my way by extra services. Now, Miss 
 Baron, think for yourself a little. Here wc are, two young 
 people thrown together by a strange chance. We have been 
 brought up differently, surrounded by different influences. 
 Even if you think me wrong, can you not believe that I've 
 followed my conscience and lived up to such light as I had? 
 I can believe this of you. I don't wish you to think that 
 we Yankees are monsters. Do I look like a monster? Why, 
 Miss Baron, if I should live to be a hundred years I should 
 regard a chance to do you a kindness as the best good 
 fortune that could befall me." 
 
 As he spoke these words his face flushed, there was a slight 
 quiver in his dark mustache, betokening deep, honest feeling, 
 and his expression was one of frank admiration and respect. 
 She looked at him in silent wonder, and asked herself, " Can 
 this be one of the Yankees of whom I have heard such 
 horrible things? " 
 
 She began saying, " I am trying to think for myself, but 
 I have been so shut out from the world that — " when she 
 
Tin-: STORM n EC INS, 
 
 43 
 
 was sudflenly interrupted. Chmik nppearerl and said, 
 " Marse Scoville, des git up de ladder en shut de trap-do' 
 qnicker'n lightnin'. Miss Lou, kin'er peraniberlate slow to'rd 
 de house, des nachel like e/, ef you ain' keerin' 'bout not'n. 
 Wash away, granny. IMay i)Ossuni, ev'y one." 
 
 Miss Ia)u had gone but a little way before Mad Whately 
 joined her, iuiving ordered his men to pass on before. 
 "C'hunk," he shouted, "take my horse and rub him well, or 
 you'll get rubbed down yourself." 
 
 The openings under the eaves in Ann' Jinkey's cabin were 
 so many and large that Scoville had fairly good opportunities 
 for observing what was going on in the immediate vicinity. 
 In witnessing the meeting between Whately and Miss Lou 
 he was conscious of a peculiar satisfaction when noting that 
 her mann* r confirmed her words. The dashing cousin 
 evidently was not in favor. *' Well," thought the scout, with 
 a decisive litde nod towards him, " were f'a young Southerner, 
 you'd have a rival that would put you to your best speed. 
 What a delicious little drawl she has in speaking, and how 
 charmingly her consonants shade off into vowels ! I would 
 be more readily taken for a Southerner than she, if I diil 
 not speak. How blue her eyes are ! and her fluffy hair 
 seemed a golden halo when the sunshine touched it through 
 the trees. And then how unsophisticated her face and 
 expression ! She is a lady from instinct and breeding, and 
 yet she is but a sweet- faced child. Well ! well ! it \\i:is an 
 odd chance to be pitched to the feet of a girl like that. 
 Very possibly I'd be there again of my own free will should 
 I see her often enough." 
 
 If Scoville were a rival now he certainly would have to 
 take a wild pace to keep up with Mad Whately in his woo- 
 ing. His eyes were full of resolute fire as he walked beside 
 his cousin, and her quick intuition took speedy alarm at his 
 expression. " Well, sweet coz," he said, " the Yanks have 
 
«ir*^^^' 
 
 
 • 
 
 44 
 
 ''M/ss Lour 
 
 very prudently dusted back to the re^on from which they 
 came. My mother will give herself the pleasure of a visit 
 at the Oaks this afternoon. Can you guess her object in 
 coming^-* " 
 
 " Why, as you say, to give herself the pleasure of a visit." 
 
 " Yes, and you and I will enhance her pleasure a thousand- 
 fold." 
 
 " I shall do all that I can in courtesy." 
 
 '' I'll do the rest, for I shall gladden her heart by marrying 
 you." 
 
 " What ! " 
 
 "Simply that, nothing more. Isn't that enough?" 
 
 ** Far too much," replied the girl, hotly. "I lon't Hke 
 such jesting." 
 
 " Faith and it will prove the best joke of our lives, over 
 which we will often laugh at our fireside hereafter. Come 
 now, cousin, make the best of it ; it is the best for you as 
 well as for me. You know I always intended to marry you, 
 and I have the hearty sanction of all the high contracting 
 l)owers." 
 
 She stopped abruptly in the path, her face so rich in 
 angry color that it shamed the flowers blooming in the 
 s'irubbery near. 
 
 " Mr. Whately," she said, firmly, *' there is one contract- 
 ing power that you have not consulted. How can you 
 marry me when I 7inll not marry you ? " 
 
 " Nothing easier, pretty coz." 
 
 "Rut how — how?" 
 
 " Oh, that you will learn at the proper time. Every thing 
 shall go as simply, naturally and merrily as fate. The bless- 
 ing of i)arent and guardian, the clergyman in robes, prayer- 
 book, wedding feast — nothing shall be wanting." 
 
 "This is absurd talk," she cried, nnd rushed to the house. 
 \.\ ilie uj)per hall slic encountered her aunt engaged in 
 
THE STORM n EG INS 
 
 4S 
 
 superintending a general dusting and polishing of the old- 
 fashioned furniture. 
 
 *' What is the meaning of this wild talk of Cousin Madi- 
 son?" the girl asked, breathlessly. 
 
 " I've heard no wild talk," was the cool response. 
 
 "Well, come into my room and hear it, then." 
 
 Mrs. Baron reluctantly followed, rather aggrieved that 
 she must bear the first brunt of the storm. 
 
 " What are you putting the house in such wonderful order 
 for?" asked Miss Lou, with flashing eyes. "What do all 
 these preparations mean? What is Aunt Whately coming 
 here for this evening? " 
 
 " It is very natural she should wish to be present at her 
 son's wedding," was the quiet and exasperating answer. 
 
 "When is this wedding to be?" was the next query, 
 accompanied by a harsh laugh. 
 
 " I think we can be ready by to-morrow evening." 
 
 " Are you a woman, that you can thus try to sacrifice the 
 motherless girl committed to your charge?" 
 
 " So far from sacrificing you, I am trying to further your 
 best interests, and at the same time carrying out the wishes 
 of my husband and your guardian. These are solemn times, 
 in which you need every safeguard and protection. We 
 should be faithless, indeed, to our trust did we not give a 
 brave soldier the best right in the world to shield and care 
 for you." 
 
 " Bah ! " cried the girl, now almost furious. " Where's 
 uncle?" 
 
 " In his office, I suppose." 
 
 Whately had preceded her thither, and had already made 
 known to Mr. Baron the nature of his interview with his 
 cousin, adding : " Our best policy will be just to take our 
 course as a matter of course, in a genial, friendly way. We 
 certainly are the girl's best friends, and it won't be long 
 
'^GH^^INmnM^mI 
 
 46 
 
 ''MISS Lou:' 
 
 W 
 
 |1 
 
 before she acknowledges the fact. All we do is to secure 
 her safety, welfare and happiness. She will be as skitrish as 
 a blooded filly over it all at first — a feature in the case 
 which only increases my admiration and affection. She 
 doesn't and can't realize the need of the step, how it's best 
 for all concerned in general and herself in particular. The 
 thing to do, therefore, is to go right straight along. Mother 
 will be here this evening, and will do much towards talking 
 her into it. Lou's anger and revolt will probably be well 
 over by to morrow, and all " — 
 
 Further predictions were interrupted by the swift entrance 
 of the girl. She stood still a moment ? ?A regarded the two 
 men in silent scorn. *•' So you are i 'oiting?" she said at 
 last. 
 
 " Oh, dear, no, sweet coz. Nothing is more foreign to 
 my naiure than plotting. I am a man of action." 
 
 " If your words have any truth or meaning, you are bent 
 on very dishonorable action." 
 
 " 7ar from it. I shall have the sanction of both Church 
 and State." 
 
 " This, then, is the boasted Southern chivalry of which 1 
 have heard so much." 
 
 " It has been knightly in all times to protect and rescue 
 lovely woman." 
 
 " I need no protection, except against you. Please leave 
 the room. I wish to speak to uncle." 
 
 He attempted to kiss her hand as he passed out, but she 
 snatched it away. " Uncle," she said, coming directly to 
 him, "" can it be that you sanction any thing so wicked as 
 this? It seems as if you and aunt were permitting my 
 cousin to put upon me a cruel practical joke." 
 
 " Ahem ! Your very words, Louise, prove how unfit you 
 are to judge and act in accordance with this emergency. 
 You even dream that we are in a mood for jesting at thi 
 
THE STORM BEGINS. 
 
 47 
 
 time, when our days and even hours may be numbered. 
 No, indeed. I amjesolved to unite with my procection all 
 the power and dignity vested in a Confederate otificer." 
 
 " In other words, to shield me against some possible 
 danger you will try to inflict on me the worst thing that 
 could happen." 
 
 " Hoity toity ! Is an honorable marriage which has always 
 been contemplated the worst that could happen ? If we are 
 driven forth by hordes of Northern vandals, you would think 
 it the best thing that had happened." 
 
 "I don't fear these Northern vandals. I have" — and 
 then she checked herself in time. 
 
 " You don't fear them ! Why, Louise, every word you 
 speak makes it more imperative that I should act for one so 
 utterly inexperienced and ignorant." 
 
 " Do you actually mean to say that you will try to marry 
 me against my will? " 
 
 " Certainly, against your present will. Do you suppose 
 that I can be guided in my solemn trust by your petulance, 
 your ignorant notions of life, and your almost childish pas- 
 sion? In France, the most civilized country in the world, 
 parents and guardians arrange these affairs as a matter of 
 course, and with the best results. It is the general method 
 all over the world. Far more than mere family and pecuni- 
 ary interests are concerned in this instance. We are giving 
 you a protector in the time of your deepest need." 
 
 " How could Lieutenant Whately protect me if the 
 Yankees should come in numbers?" 
 
 " In more ways than you can imagine. Moreover, he would 
 probably be permitted to escort you and your mother to a 
 place of safety. You would have his name, and the name 
 of a Confederate officer would always entitle you to respect." 
 
 "Oh, this is dreadful!" cried the girl, bewildered and 
 almost paralyzed by the old man's inexorable words and 
 
 I 
 
-*& r <W fJ «<> «fi 
 
 ■48 
 
 ''M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 manner. So unsophisticated was she, so accustomed to 
 be governed, that the impression was strong that she could be 
 . controlled even in this supreme crisis. 
 
 She rushed into the parlor, where her cousin was striding 
 up and r'own in a whirl of the glad excitement so congenial 
 to his spirit. " Cousin Madison," she exclaimed, " I know 
 you are hasty and impetuous, but generous impulses should 
 go with such a nature. You surely will not use your advan- 
 tage against an orphan girl?" 
 
 "No, indeed, dear coz, not against, but for you. I love 
 you too well to leave you to the chances of war." 
 
 *' Oh, but this is the certainty of evil. You know I do not 
 love you. If you would wait — if you would give me time 
 to think it all over " — 
 
 " Why, so you shall when I've escorted you and mother to 
 some place where none can molest or make you afraid." 
 
 " Escort me, then, as I am, under your mother's care. 
 Truly this would be a better way to win my heart than such 
 hasty violence to all my feelings and wishes." 
 
 " My dear Louise, you may think me a hasty, inconsid- 
 erate wooer to-day, but that is because you do not know all 
 that I knov/. I must, like your guardians, be guided by your 
 best welfare. When you learn to know me as a kind, loyal, 
 considerate husband, you will appreciate my most friendly 
 and decisive action at this time. You are in great danger ; 
 you may soon be homeless. In the case of one so young 
 and fair as you are, those who love you, as you know I do 
 passionately, must act, not in accordance with your passing 
 mood, but in a way to secure your peace and honor for all 
 time." 
 
 " Oh, this is all a terrible dream ! You can — you can 
 protect me as your cousin, should I need any such protec- 
 tion, which I cannot believe. Northern soldiers are not 
 savages. I know it ! I know it ! " 
 
 I* 
 
THE STORM BEGINS. 
 
 49 
 
 love 
 
 " How can you know it? Have I not seen more of them 
 than you have ? I tell you that for the honor of our house I 
 shall and will give you the protection of my name at once. 
 Your uncle and aunt feel as strongly as I do about it, and 
 your happiness will be the only result. We Southern people 
 take no changes in these matters." 
 
 Overwhelmed, frightened, bewildered, the girl left the 
 room and mournfully climbed to her own apartment. She 
 was too utterly absorbed in her own desperate plight to 
 observe Zany whisking away in the background. 
 
 care, 
 such 
 
 ^ow all 
 your 
 loyal, 
 [iendly 
 mger ; 
 jyoung 
 I do 
 jassing 
 for all 
 
 |u can 
 Irotec- 
 te not 
 
 ■^' 
 
 '•i^ 
 
 'W 
 
 
50 
 
 ''M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 DANGERS THICKENING. 
 
 l! I 
 
 MR. BARON was scarcely less miserable tlian his ward, 
 yet from wholly different causes. His anxieties con- 
 cerning her were deep indeed, his very solicitude impelling 
 him towards the plan which he was eager to consummate. 
 He was distracted by fears and forebodings of every kind of 
 evil ; he was striving to fortify his mind against the dire 
 misgiving that the Confederacy was in a very bad way, and 
 that a general breaking up might take place. Indeed his 
 mental condition was not far removed from that of a man 
 who dreads lest the hitherto immutable laws of nature are 
 about to end in an inconceivable state of chaos. What would 
 happen if the old order of things passed away and the abom- 
 inable abolitionists obtained full control? He felt as if the 
 door of Dante's Inferno might be thrown wide at any mo- 
 ment. There was no elasticity in his nature, enabling him 
 to cope with threatening possibilities ; no such firmness and 
 fortitude of soul as he might be required to exercise within 
 the next few hours. To start with, he was wretched and 
 distracted by the breaking up of the methodical monotony 
 of his life and household affairs. Since general wreck and 
 ruin might soon ensue, he had the impulses of those who try 
 to secure and save what is most valualjle and to do at once 
 what seems vitally important. Amid all this confusion and 
 excitement of mind his dominant trait of persistence asserted 
 itself. He would continue trying to the last to carry out the 
 
da.\x:eks thick exixc. 
 
 51 
 
 ward, 
 , con- 
 
 )elling 
 imate. 
 incl of 
 e dire 
 ly, and 
 ed his 
 a man 
 ire are 
 would 
 abom- 
 if the 
 ly mo- 
 ig him 
 ss and 
 within 
 ;d and 
 notony 
 k and 
 vho try 
 ,t once 
 in and 
 .sseited 
 •ut the 
 
 cherished schemes and purposes of hi., hfe ; he would not 
 stultify himself by changing his principles, or even the daily 
 routine of his life, as far as he could help himself. If events 
 over which he liad no control hastened action, such action 
 should be in harmony with previous purpose to the extent 
 of Iiis power. The plan, therefore, of marrying his niece 
 immediately to her cousin doubly commended itself to 
 him. It would throw around her additional safeguards and 
 relieve him in part from a heavy responsibility ; it would also 
 consummate one of the cherished intentions of his life. 
 Things might take a happy turn for the belter, and then just 
 so much would be gained and accomplished. 
 
 Thus he reasoned, and his nephew spared lio pains in 
 confirming his views. The truth urged by his niece that she 
 did not love her cousin seemed a small matter to the unemo- 
 tional, legal mind of the old man when safety and solid 
 interests were concerned. " A child like Louise," he said, 
 " must be taken care of, not humored." Mrs. Baron had 
 long since formed the habit of yielding complete deference 
 to her husband, and now was sincerely in accord with his 
 views. She had never had much heart ; her marriage had 
 satisfied her ambition, had been pleasing to her kith and kin, 
 and she saw no good reason why her niece should not, under 
 any circumstances, form a similar union. That the girl 
 should revolt now, in the face of such urrent necessity, was 
 mere perverseness. Sharing in her husband's anxieties and 
 fears, she found solace and diversion of mind in her beloved 
 housekeeping. Neither of the old people had the imagina- 
 tion or experience which could enable them to understand 
 the terror and distress of their niece, whom with good 
 intentions they were driving towards a hated union. 
 
 Dinner was served two hours later than usual — a fact in 
 itself very disturbing to Mr. Baron ; while Aun' Suke, com- 
 pelled to cook again for the Confederate troopers, was in a 
 
"^m-^Mi^^ 
 
 12 
 
 "M/SS LOU,'' 
 
 i< 
 
 state of suppressed irritation, leading her satellites to fear 
 that she might explode. Small, pale and bloodless as "ole 
 miss" appeared, none of her domestics dared to rebel openly ; 
 but if any little darky came within the reach of Aun' Suke's 
 wooden spoon, she relieved her feelings promptly. In dining- 
 room and kitchen, therefore, was seething and repressed ex- 
 citement. The very air was electric and charged with rumors. 
 
 Perkins, the overseer, was at his wits' end, also, about the 
 field-hands. They were impassive or sullen before his face, 
 and abounding in whispers and significant glances behind 
 his back. What they knew, how much they knew, he could 
 not discover by any ingenuity of questioning or threatening, 
 and he was made to fee) that excessive harshness might lead 
 to serious trouble. Disturbing elements were on all sides, 
 in the air, everywhere, yet he could not lay his finger on 
 nny particular culprit. 
 
 Of all the slaves on the plantation, Chunk appeared the 
 most docile and ready to oblige every one. He waited on 
 the Confederate troopers with alacrity, and grinned at their 
 chaffing with unflagging good-nature. In all the little com- 
 munity, which included an anxious Union scout, Chunk was 
 about the most serene and even-pulsed individual. Nature 
 had endowed him with more muscle than nerves, more 
 shrewdness than intellect, and had (juite left out the elements 
 of fear and imagination. He lived intensely in the present ; 
 excitement and bustle were congenial conditions, and his 
 soul exulted in the prospect of freedom. Moreover, the 
 iact that he had proved himself to Zany to be no longer a 
 mere object for ridicule added not a little to his elation. 
 Shrewd as himself, she was true to her word of keeping an 
 eye on him, and she was compelled to see that he was acting 
 his part well. 
 
 Miss Lou positively refused to come down to dinner. She 
 had buried her face in her pillow, and was almost crying her 
 
fear 
 "ole 
 
 snly ; 
 uke's 
 ning- 
 d ex- 
 mors. 
 lU the 
 ; face, 
 lehind 
 could 
 cning, 
 \t lead 
 sides, 
 ^er on 
 
 d the 
 ed on 
 It their 
 com- 
 iik was 
 ature 
 more 
 ments 
 esent ; 
 Ind his 
 r, the 
 |nger a 
 lation. 
 ing an 
 acting 
 
 She 
 ing her 
 
 DA XCEA\S TlflCKF.XJiVa. 
 
 S3 
 
 eyes out ; for in the ( oufusion of her mind, resulting from 
 iier training and inexj^erience, she feared that if all her kin 
 insisted on her marriage, and gave sucii reasons as had been 
 urged upon lier, slie must be married. She was sorely per- 
 plexed. Could the Yankees be such ravening wolves as her 
 uncle and cousin re[)resented tliem to be? Certainly one 
 was not, but then lie might ])e dilTeront from the others 
 because he had been to college and was educated. 
 
 " He said he would be glad to do me any kindness," she 
 sobbed. "Oh, if he could only prevent this marriage ! Yet 
 what can he do? I could not even sneak to a stran!];e'" of 
 my trouble, much less to a Northern soldier. I wish I could 
 see my old mammy. She's the only one who in the least 
 understands me and feels a little like a mother towards me. 
 Oh, what a dreadful thing to be a motherler-i girl at such a 
 time ! " 
 
 The powers below stairs concluded that it would be best 
 to leave Miss Lou to herself for a time, that she might think 
 over and become reconciled to the need and reasonableness 
 of their action, but Mrs. Baron considerately sent up hi'r 
 dinner by Zany. The unhappy girl shook her head and 
 motioned the tray away. 
 
 " Hi, now, Miss Lou, w'at you tookin on so fer? " asked 
 the diplomatic Zany. 
 
 " For more than you can understand." 
 
 " I un'erstan's a heap mo'n you tink," said Zany, throwing 
 off all disguise in her strong sympathy. " Marse VVhately 
 des set out ter mar'y you, ez ef you wuz a post dat cud be 
 stood up en mar'd to enybody at eny time. Hi ! Miss Lou, 
 I'se bettah off dan you, fer I kin pick en choose my ole 
 
 man. 
 
 >> 
 
 " Everybody in the world is better off than I am." 
 " I wudn't Stan' it, Miss Lou. I sut'ny wudn't. 
 runned away." 
 
 Ld 
 
54 
 
 •M//.V.V LOU.'' 
 
 4( 
 
 M 
 
 I ' 
 
 il 
 
 ii 
 
 How roulil I run away? Wlicre could I go to? 
 
 "Sec ycre, Miss Lou," ami Zany sunk her voice to a 
 whisper, '* dere's a Linkuni man " — 
 
 " Hush ' how did you know that?" 
 
 "Chunk en me's frcn's. Don' be 'feard, fer I'd like ter 
 see de gyurl dat kin beat nic playin' possum. Dat Linkum 
 man he'p you ter run away." 
 
 " For shame, Zany ! The idea of my going away with a 
 stranger ! " 
 
 " 'Pears to me I'se rudder runned away witl one man dan 
 hub anoder man runned away wid me." 
 
 •' Don't ever speak to me of such a thing again." 
 
 " Well, den, Miss Lou, de niggahs on dis plantashon des 
 lub you, en dey ain' hankerin' arter Marse Whately. Hf 
 you say de wud, I des belebe dey riz right up agin dis 
 niar'age." 
 
 "Oh, horrible ! " said the girl, in whose mind had been 
 instilled the strong and general dread of a negro insurrec- 
 tion. "There, Zany, yon and Chunk mean kindly, but 
 neither you nor any one can help me. If either does or says 
 any thing to make a disturbance I'll never forgive you. My 
 cousin and the men ^v'ith him would kill you all. I'd rather 
 be left alone, for I must think what to do." 
 
 " I ain' sayin' not'n, Miss Lou, sence dat yo' 'quest, but 
 (loan you gib up," and Zany took her departure, resolving 
 to have a conference with Chunk at the earliest possible 
 moment. 
 
 The impossible remedies suggested by Zany depressed 
 Miss Lou all the more, for they increased her impression of 
 the hopeless chara(^ter of her position. She felt that she 
 was being swept forward by circumstances hard to combat, 
 and how to resist or whether she could resist, were questions 
 which pressed for an immediate answer. She possessed a 
 temperament w^Iiich warned her imperati\eiy against this 
 
DA XG/'./CS Tim 'kl-.XlXC. 
 
 55 
 
 to a 
 
 My 
 
 liasty marriage, nor was there any hesilani y ii» her I)elief 
 that it would bhght her young Ufe beyond remedy. She 
 was not one to moan or weep helplessly very long, however, 
 and the first gust of passion and grief having passed, her 
 mind began to clear and face the situation. Looking out 
 of her window, she saw that her cousin and his men were 
 mounted antl were about to ride away again. Having 
 waited till they had disappeared, she bathed her eyes and 
 then descended to her uncle. 
 
 *' Where has Lieutenant VVhately gone ? " she asked. 
 
 " Your cousin does not forget, even at such a time, that 
 he is a soldier, and he is scouting the country far and wide. 
 Moreover, it is his intentioii to ask the Rev. Dr. Williams to 
 be here to-morrow evening, and a few friends also. I trust 
 that by that time your perverse mood will pass away, and 
 that you will unite with your kindred in their efforts in your 
 behalf." 
 
 " Is there no use of reasoning with you, uncle, — no use 
 of pleading with you?" 
 
 Perkins stood in the door and knocked to announce his 
 presence. 
 
 "Well, what is it?" asked Mr. Baron, nervously. 
 
 " Have you heard any thing, sir?" 
 
 " Good heavens, no ! Heard what? " 
 
 "Well, sir, I dunno. The field-hands are buzzing like 
 bees, en I kyant get nothin' out of 'em." 
 
 "Well, Perkins, be watchful. Do your best. God only 
 knows what's coming. You are well armed, I suppose?" 
 
 " You may reckon that, sir, en Pll use 'em too, ef need 
 be. The hands are cute, mighty cute. I kyant lay my 
 finger on any one in particular, but they're all a sort of 
 bilin' up with 'citement." 
 
 " Best to stay among them and be stern and vigilant." 
 When Perkins withdrew Mr. Baron said to his niece with 
 
^ 
 
 56 
 
 ''MISS LOU.'' 
 
 strong emotion, " You see we are beset with danijcr. and 
 you talk of reasoning and pleading against my best cllorts 
 for your safety. 'I'here ! I'm too harassed, too overwhelmed 
 with weighty subjects for consideration, to discuss this matter 
 further. I must give my attention to securing some papers 
 of vital importance." 
 
 Miss Lou departed with the feeling that dangers were 
 thickening on every hand, and that she was only one of the 
 causes for anxiety in her uncle's mind. She knew it would 
 be useless to say any thing to her aunt ; and with a longing 
 for a little sympathy and advice, she resolved on anollier 
 visit to her old mammy, Aun' Jinkey. 
 
 The Union soldier had a remote place in the background 
 of her thoughts, and yet she felt that it was preposterous to 
 hope for any thing from him. 
 
•• WHEN f " 
 
 57 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " WHEN? " 
 
 THE vigilant eyes and constant demands of her mistress 
 prevented Zany from giving Chunk more than a few 
 significant hints, but he was quick to comprehend the situa- 
 tion. When he saw Miss Lou i)ending her steps towards his 
 granny's cottage, he thanked his stars that tlie garden was 
 in tiiat direction also, and soon apparently was very busy at 
 a good point from which to ol)serve the cabin. In view of 
 the approaching wedding Mrs. Baron had given Aun' Jinkey 
 much to do, and she was busily ironing when Miss Lou 
 again stood within the door. The old woman's fears had 
 been so greatly aroused that she had insisted that S^^oville 
 should remain in the loft. " Folks '11 be comin' en gwine 
 all the eb'nin', en ole miss hersef mout step dis away." 
 
 At the same time her heart ached for the young girl. 
 At sight of the sweet, troubled face the faithful creature just 
 dropped into a chair, and throwing her apron over her head, 
 rocked back and forth, moaning "You po' chile, you po' 
 chile ! " 
 
 "Yes, mammy," cried Miss Lou, forgetting for the 
 moment that a stranger was within hearing. " I'm in 
 desperate straits, and I don't know what to do." 
 
 The trap-door was lifted instantly, and Scoville was about 
 to descend. 
 
 " You mustn't do dat ! " exclaimed Aun' Jinkey. " We's 
 all in mis'ry anuff now." 
 
"«r-»«II».„*|»^ 
 
 S8 
 
 "A//SS LOW 
 
 " I hope that in no sense I am the cause of it," said 
 Scoville, earnestly. 
 
 " Oh, no," replied Miss Lou, wiping her eyes hastily, 
 " not directly. Pardon me, I forgot for the. moment that 
 you were here. My trouble is with my family, and you have 
 nothing to do with it except as you Yankees are coming 
 South and making trouble of every kind." 
 
 "Well, Miss Baron," said the scout, regarding her sympa- 
 thetically through the open door, " it is too late to talk 
 about our coming South. Isn't there something I can do 
 for you, to show my gratitude and good-will? " 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed ! " 
 
 " De bes' ting you kin do, Marse Scoville, is ter shet dat 
 do' an' kep still ; den git back ter yo' folks soon ez you kin 
 trabble. We uns got des ez much ez we kin stan' up un'er, 
 en ef dey foun' you yere, hit ud be de worl' comin' ter 
 smash." 
 
 " If Miss Baron would tell me her trouble, she might find 
 that I am not so powerless to help as I seem. Since slie 
 has done so much for me, I have a certain kind of right to 
 do what I can in return." 
 
 " You forget, sir, that we are strangers and aliens." 
 
 " No one is an alien to me from whom I am accepting 
 life and safety," and his glance was so kind and friendly 
 that, in her dire extremity, she was induced to ask a (jucs- 
 tion. 
 
 " If you feel that you owe any thing to me," she said, 
 hesitatingly, " tell me truly, if your i)eople came to this 
 j)lantation, would our home be burned and we all be in 
 danger o( insult and death ? " 
 
 *' Is that all you fear? " he asked, smiling. 
 
 " But answer me on your word and honor." 
 
 " No, Miss Baron, not from our regular troops. There 
 are vile wretches connected with all armies, on your side as 
 
" WHEN?'' 
 
 59 
 
 fiiicl 
 she 
 t to 
 
 well as ours, who act without orders or any control except 
 their lawless will. If you and your friends are tortured by 
 the fear of Northern soldiers, should they come this way, 
 you may set your mind comparatively at rest. I must add, 
 however, that our troops have to live off the country, and so 
 take food for man and beast. They also helj) themselves to 
 better horses when they find them. I have told you the 
 truth. ^Vhy, believe me, Miss Barcn, I would defend you 
 with my life against any one." 
 
 "Oh, dear!" cried the girl, with another rush of tears, 
 " my uncle believe'^ that our house will be burned and we 
 all murdered, and vhey are going to marry me to my cousin 
 against my will, so that he can take me to a place of safety." 
 
 '• When?" asked Scoville, excitedly. 
 
 "To-morrow evening." 
 
 Aun' Jinkey in her trepidation had stepped to the door, 
 and there, sure enough, was Mrs. Baron coming dpwn the 
 path with her hand full of crumpled muslins. She had 
 appeared so silently and suddenly before Chunk that he had 
 started and stared at her. When he tried to edge off towards 
 the cabin, she had said sharply, " Keep at your work. What 
 is the matter with you ? I reckon your granny is smoking 
 instead of doing my work," and she hastened her steps to 
 surprise the supposed delinciuent. 
 
 Entering the cabin, she saw only Aun' Jinkey ironing, and 
 her niece sitting with her handkerchief to her fiice. " Ah ! " 
 said the old lady to her laundress, " I'm glad you realize the 
 importance of doing my work when it's needed." Then 
 followed a few brief directions in regard to the articles she 
 had brought. " Louise, I wish you to come with me. 
 This is no place for you," concluded Mrs. liaron, turning to 
 depart. 
 
 The girl rose and followed submissively, for she was over- 
 whelmed by a confused sense of danger, not merely to the 
 
•■■r-~,H».,.'.„4»«»^ 
 
 60 
 
 ''MISS LOLT.'' 
 
 Union soldier, but also to her old mammy who was shelter- 
 ing him. The extremity of her fears and the fact that Chunk 
 had not come to warn them led iier to dread that her aunt's 
 suspicions were already aroused. Cliunk gave her a very 
 anxious look as she passed, but she only shook her head 
 slightly, as much as to say, *' I don't know." 
 
 The negro's elation and confidence now passed utterly ; 
 he became deeply alarmetl, not only for the scout, but for 
 himself and grandmother as well. He was iv)t long in 
 coming to a decision. VVhately and his troopers were 
 absent, and now, perhaps, was the best time to act. After 
 satisfying himself that he was not observed, he slipped away 
 to the cabin. 
 
 When Mrs. Baron finally disappeared, Aun' Jinkey sunk 
 into a chair almost in a state of collapse. " O good Lawd ! " 
 she gasped, " I des tremblin' so in my knee-jints 1 kyant 
 Stan'." 
 
 " Courage, Aunt Jinkey," said Scoville, through the chink 
 in the floor. ''Try to get Chunk here as soon as possible." 
 
 " I des done beat. I kyant lif my han' no mo'." 
 
 " Granny," said Chunk, sauntering in, " you des watch at 
 de do'," and without waiting for a word he went up the 
 ladder, lifted the door and closed it. 
 
 " Ah, Chunk, I wanted you badly," said Scoville. " Do 
 you think it possible for me to get away at once? ' 
 
 " Pat des w'at I come ter see 'bout, rnars'r, en I'se gwine 
 wid you. Marse Whately and he men all done gone till 
 eb'nin'." 
 
 " Well, there's no need of further words. See what you 
 can do about getting horses and a good start. I will explain 
 on the way. Hoot like an owl when the coast is clear and 
 you are ready." 
 
 A few moments later Chunk emerged from the cabin, 
 ith careless mien, eating a pone of hoecake. 
 
 V^ V 
 
I 
 
 " WHEN? 
 
 61 
 
 Do 
 
 " Go back to yer work," shouted Perkins, who was pass- 
 rag in the distance. 
 
 This Chunk did, his eyes following the overseer until the 
 hated form was lost to sight in a distant field where a squad 
 of hands were at work. Perkins was simply trying to be 
 ubiquitous that day. Chunk's next step was to steal to the 
 rear of tlie stables. To his delight he found that Whately 
 had left his horse in order that it might rest for further hard 
 service, and had borrowed one of his uncle's animals for the 
 afternoon ride. As Chunk was stealthily putting on a bridle, 
 a gruff voice asked, " What yer doin' thar? " 
 
 The negro's heart stood still. Turning quickly, he saw, 
 to his dismay, one of the Confederate soldiers lying on a 
 pile of straw. A closer scrutiny revealed that the man was 
 drowsy from partial intoxication, and Chunk, feeling that he 
 was in for it now, said boldly : " Marse Whately tole me at 
 dinner ter tek his hoss ter de run fer a drink en ter limber 
 his jints 'bout dis time in de eb'nin'." 
 
 *' Very well ; bring 'im back safe en sud'n or I'll make 
 you a head shorter'n you air." 
 
 " Ob co'se, mars'r, I do ez I tol'. 1 des ride ole bay 
 ^lown, too. Mout ez well took 'im ter water de same time." 
 
 The soldier making no response Chunk slipped away with 
 the horses, trembling as if in an ague fit. Nothing was left 
 for him now but to get away and take his chances. Fortune 
 in this instance, as it often does, favored the bolder course. 
 The Confederate soldier was familiar with Chunk, since he 
 had been the waiter at the troopers' mess ; moreover his 
 faculties were confused and blunted and he was soon asleep 
 again. Perkins' back was turned and every one at the 
 mansion deeply preoccupied. F.ven Zany, who had been 
 charged not to leave the dining-room, was not on the watch. 
 
 Chunk hastened the horses down the lane towards the 
 run, which having reached, he looked cautiously around, then 
 
■ ■^•..-n*; ■■■'tm!^ 
 
 62 
 
 '*A//SS LOU.'' 
 
 I 
 
 ■•I > 
 
 hooted in fairly successful imitation of the ominous bird of 
 night. Aun' Jinkey dropped into her chair again with an 
 ejaculation of terror. 
 
 " Look out of the door and tell me if you see any one," 
 said Scoville, quickly. 
 
 Mechanically she obeyed, saying, " No, mars'r, but dat 
 squinch-ovvl des shook me like a ghos'." 
 
 Before she knew it he was beside her, his eyes shining 
 with excitement. " There," he said, putting into the hand 
 he pressed a ten-dollar bill, " I'll see you again, and you 
 won't be sorry. Good-by," and with a swift glance around 
 he strode away towards the run. A moment or two later he 
 was mounted on the bare back of Mad Whately's horse, 
 following Chunk down the stream so that the flowing water 
 might obliterate the hoof-prints. 'J'hey soon left the water 
 and put their horses to a gallop towards the forest, within 
 whose shades they disappeared. Both had deemed best 
 not to tell Aun' Jinkey of their departure, so that she might 
 honestly plead ignorance. 
 
 With the unerring instinct of a scout the soldier led the 
 way hour after hour towards the point where he expected to 
 find the Union cavalry force. On the way he and Chunk 
 comi)ared notes, and thus Scoville more truly understood 
 Miss Lou's position. " We must be back to-morrow 
 afternoon," he said, " in time to prevent this marriage. So, 
 Chunk, be careful. You must not get sleepy or let your 
 horse stumble." 
 
 Leaving them to pursue their way to the northwest, we 
 can return to the Oaks. Miss Lou followed her aunt into 
 the house, burdened for the mome U with a new and pressing 
 anxiety. Did the resolute old lady suspect that one of the 
 class which she most detested had been concealed within 
 earshot of her voice, and would a senrch be instituted? 
 The girl's sympathies had gone out tc the stranger, and the 
 
" w:rF.N ? " 
 
 &3 
 
 M 
 
 the 
 thin 
 ed? 
 
 the 
 
 fact that he so trusted her appealed strongly to her woman's 
 nature. In her alienation from .ler relatives she was 
 peculiarly insolated and lonely at just the period in life when 
 she most craved appreciative understanding, and her intui- 
 tions led her to believe that this stranger could both under- 
 stand and respect her feelings. His genial, kindly smile 
 warmed her sore, lonely heart, and convinced her that there 
 was a world of human affections and simple faith as well as 
 of imperious wills and formal beliefs. His words in legard 
 to himself and the North was another shock to her confi- 
 dence in her uncle :\nd aunt, and another proof that there was 
 no good reason for the marriage they were forcing upon her. 
 For a brief time she watched with keen-eyed interest to 
 see if her aunt would take any steps to have Aun' Jinkey's 
 cabin searched. Her mind was soon relieved on this score, 
 for she became convinced that her uncle was distracted by 
 various anxieties ; while Mrs. Baron, from force of habit and 
 with the purpose of diverting her mind from all she feared, 
 was pursuing her preparations with restless energy, keeping 
 every one in her employ as busy as herself. It was evident 
 that her niece's idle hands and perturbed wanderings to and 
 fro annoyed her, and at last she broke out : " Louise, it 
 would be much more becoming in you to unite with me in 
 my efforts. The idea of your sitting and idly bemoaning 
 your case in that foolish old woman's cabin ! I'm glad you 
 had the grace to show obedience to me before her, for this 
 is a time when to our people the example of obedience is 
 most necessary, and you should be the first to set it in all 
 respects. It will only increase the trouble which your uncle 
 and Perkins are having if our people see that you are rebel- 
 lious. There is much that you should be doing and seeing 
 to, for your uncle says that it may be best for you to leave 
 the plantation with Mrs. Whately and her son immediately 
 after your marriage." 
 
••I .mm ' ^tf"^ 
 
 64 
 
 'M/SS Lor. 
 
 " 1 am not married yet. I shall appeal to Aunt Whately, 
 and if she has a woman's heart she will not sanction the 
 marriage." 
 
 *' You will fihd that because she has a woman's heart, and 
 a Baron's heart, she will sanction it and insist upon it." 
 
 *' We shall see," replied the girl, turning to go to her 
 room. 
 
 *' Louise, it is niy wish that you should put your things in 
 order to be packed hastily, if need be." 
 
 Miss Lou made no answer. 
 
 ' 
 
 
 ; in 
 
PAKAL YZED WITH SHAME. 
 
 65 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PARALYZED WITH SHAME. 
 
 SO far from obeying her aunt's injunctions, Miss Lou sat 
 down by her window, but she did not note the smihng 
 spring landscape over which the western sun was throwing 
 its long, misty rays. Tears so blurred her eyes and blinded 
 her vision that she could scarcely see at all. At last she 
 was aroused by the crunching of wheels, and became aware 
 that Mrs. Whately had arrived. From what she knew of 
 this aunt she had a good deal of hope from her appeal, for 
 Mrs. Whately had always seemed a kind-hearted woman. 
 True, she had been over-indulgent to her son, and, in her 
 blind idolatry of this only cliikl, l)lind to his faults, always 
 comforting herself with the belief that he was merely high- 
 spirited and would settle down when he grew older. 
 
 Miss Lou wished to speak to the mother before the son 
 returned, and in the hope of securing a merciful ally in the 
 lady, went down immediately to receive her. Mr. Baron 
 was on the back porch calling, *' Chunk, where in the mis- 
 chief are you?" Where, indeed, with ♦he start he had 
 gained for the Union lines? 
 
 *' My dear niece," cried Mrs. U'hately, effusively, " how 
 glad I am to see you, and to take you in my arms on this 
 deeply interesting occasion ! " l)Ut the matron was troubled 
 at the girl's red eyes and pallid fare. 
 
 " I will show you to your room at once," said Mrs. Baron 
 to her guest, decisively and significantly. 
 
' im 
 
 66 
 
 "M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 Miss Lou was right in believing that the situation and the 
 unhappy appearance of the prospective bride would be 
 exi)lained. She had l)een forestalled in her chance to make 
 an appeal. Mrs. iJaron emphatically sustained her husband's 
 puri)ose, concluding : '• My dear sister, in this crisis you will 
 have to take a firm stand with the rest of us. Louise is act- 
 ing ' e a V rveise child, and no more realizes the necessity 
 and wlsdor,- of our course than a baby." 
 
 Mea^ ;.'.»)'. ;he outcry for Chunk increased, and Miss Lou 
 was troubled li,. he did not respond. Taking advantage 
 of the fact that her mistress was upstairs, Zany stole swiftly, 
 with many a misgiving, to Aun' Jinkey's cabin. 
 
 " Whar dat gran'boy o' you'n? " she asked, breathlessly. 
 
 " Ain' he in de gyardin? " 
 
 "No, he ain'. Docs vou k}W7v whar he is? Bettah tell 
 me de truf. Mout sabe you a heap ob trouble." 
 
 " Des you min' yo' business, en (loan cum trapesin' yere 
 'bout Chunk. You talks ez ef you own 'im." 
 
 " Ole mars'r tinks he own 'im, en he des a yellin' fer 'im. 
 De oberseer hollerin', too, en de lil niggahs runnin' yere, 
 dar, en yander lookin' fer 'im. Yere one ob um now." 
 
 With new and direful forebodings Aun' Jinkey declared 
 loudly : " I doan know whar he be. He ain' say not'n ter 
 me 'bout gwine any whar." 
 
 Uttering an angry and contemptuous exclamation, Zany 
 sped back, and, with a scared look, said to Miss Lou, 
 "Aun' Jinkey 'clar she dunno not'n 'bout Chunk's doin's. 
 Ef she ain' foolin' me, I des belebe he's runned away." 
 
 At these tidings and at this suggestion the young girl 
 was almost distracted. She went instantly to the cabin, 
 supposing that it would soon be searched. 
 
 " Mammy ! " she exclaimed, " where's Chunk? " 
 
 "'Fo' de Lawd, honey, I doan know. I des gwine all 
 ter pieces wid de goin's on." 
 
PARALYZED U'/77J SlfAME. 
 
 07 
 
 Zany 
 
 Lou, 
 
 loin's. 
 
 |g girl 
 :abin, 
 
 ne 
 
 all 
 
 "But people will be here looking. Is he up there?" 
 asked the girl in a whisper. 
 
 "No, he ties lit out two hour ago, en he guv nie 1.. " 
 (showing the money), "en say he see me agin. I'se feaiod 
 he'n Chunk gwine off togeder." 
 
 " Well, you don't know. Hide the money and declare 
 you don't know any thing. I'll stand by you as far as 1 
 can." 
 
 As she hastened back she saw a Confederate soldier 
 iWining towards the house and Per^'-ns limping after him as 
 fast as i)ossible. Entering the n..^ > 'or she heard the 
 soldier demanding fiercely of her u :le, Vhere's that cursed 
 nigger you call Chunk?" 
 
 " Whom are )ou addressing, si;? ' jsked Mr. l>aron, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " Well, sec yere, boss," was tne excited re])ly, " this ere 
 ain't no time fer standin' on nice words. That cursed nigger 
 o' your'n took the lieutenant's horse ter the run fer a drink, 
 en one o' your'n 'long of him, en me en Perkins kyant find 
 nary one of 'em." 
 
 "Yes, sir," added Perkins in great wrath, " we uns follered 
 the hoof-prints ter the run en inter the water, en there's no 
 hoof-prints comin' back. That infernal nigger has lit out 
 with the two horses." 
 
 " Why don't you go after him then? " shouted Mr. Baron, 
 distracted with anger anil accumulating perplexities. " He 
 can't be far yet." 
 
 " I'd like ter see the hoss on this place that could ketch 
 the lieutenant's black mare. Oh, why didn't I shoot the 
 nigger?" and the soldier strode up and down as if de- 
 mented. 
 
 " You deserve to be shot yourself, sir, if you, who had 
 been placed on guard, permitted that black rascal to take 
 the horses." 
 
68 
 
 ''Af/SS LOLV' 
 
 IP 
 
 " Yes," replied tlie soldier, desperately, " en the lieutenant 
 is ther man ter shoot me — cuss his red-hot blood ! " and he 
 stalked away towards the stables as if possessed by a sudden 
 resolve. 
 
 'i'urning to enter the house, Mr. Boron etuouutered his 
 niece, who had been a witness to the scene, which explained 
 every thing to her. " You see, you see," cried the old man, 
 " every thing going to rack and ruin ! \Vould to Heaven 
 you could be married to-night and sent away to a place of 
 safety ! " 
 
 "Uncle," said the girl, almost fiercely, "did you not 
 hear that man say of my cousin, * curse his red-hot blood '? 
 Is that the kind of a protector you would force upon 
 me?" 
 
 *' Yes," almost shouted the angry man, " because he has 
 the spirit to deal justly with such reprobates. He's just the 
 kind of protector you need in these lurid times, when it 
 seems as if no one could be trusted. To think that that 
 boy Chunk, who has been treated so well, could play us 
 such an infernal trick ! His old crone of a grandam must 
 know something about it, and I'll make her tell. Perkins ! " 
 and Mr. Baron rushed towards the door again. 
 
 The ladies had now descended and joined the excited 
 group on the veranda. Zany was listening with craned neck 
 from the dining-room door, and other " yard folks," great 
 and small, were gathering also. 
 
 "What /.$• the matter?" cried Mrs. Baron. 
 
 Paying no heed to her, Mr. Baron said to his overseer, 
 " Aun' Jinkey must know about this rascally flight and theft. 
 Bring her here." 
 
 " Uncle," said IMiss Lou, firmly, " Aun' Jinkey doesn't 
 know any thing about Chunk's disappearance. I've been to 
 her cabin and asked her." 
 
 " As if the cunning old witch would tell you any thing ! 
 
r.lKALY/.EJ) WITH SJ/AME. 
 
 69 
 
 Bring her here, I say, Perkins. It's time the spirit of insub- 
 ordination on this place received a wholesome check." 
 
 " Why ! " exclaimed Mrs. Baron, " it seems but a little 
 while ago that (Miiink was working ([uietly in the garden." 
 
 " En I reckon hit ain't much more'n two hours gone sence 
 I seed 'im comin' out o' the cabin, lazin' and eatin' hoe- 
 cake," added Perkins as he started angrily to obey his orders. 
 
 " He had mischief in his mind, though, now I think of it," 
 resumed Mrs. Baron, " for he seemed startled when he saw 
 me, and tried to edge away to the cabin. I thought he was 
 afraid I would catch his granny smoking instead of doing 
 urgent work. Louise, you were in the cabin at the time. 
 Why should Chunk be so anxious to get there before 1 
 did?" 
 
 " I have not spoken to him this afternoon, and know 
 nothing of his movements except what I have heard," replied 
 the girl, coldly. 
 
 '• Oh, dear ! " exclaimed Mrs. ^Vhately, " what troublous 
 times we've fallen upon ! " 
 
 In the silence which followed they heard the gallop of a 
 horse. A moment later a negro came running up and ex- 
 claiming, " Dat sojer in de stable des saddle he hoss en put 
 out ez ef de debil wuz arter 'im ! " 
 
 Miss Lou smiled bitterly as she thought, " He evidently 
 doesn't think it wise to wait for my protector." 
 
 At this moment Mad Whately appeared cantering smartly 
 up the avenue at the head of his men. Throwing his reins 
 to a colored boy, he strode smilingly up the steps, exclaim- 
 ing, " Why, this is a regular committee of reception. I am 
 doubled honored since my fair cousin is present also." 
 
 Miss Lou made no reply, and the expression on all faces 
 led him to ask quickly, " Why, what's the matter? " 
 
 The young man's brow grew black as Mr. Baron j^nve a 
 hasty explanation. A half-suppressed oath rose to his lips 
 
]M 
 
 70 
 
 j/As.s uwr' 
 
 as he turned on his heel and shouted to his men, *' H;ilt, 
 there ! Let every man mount and await orders. Simson, 
 you and two others follow the guard I left with my horse. 
 Where's that nigger who saw him start? Here, you, put 
 these men on his track as you value your life I Simson, take 
 him, dead or alive ! " 
 
 The men saluted, and departed at once. The galloi)ing 
 of their horses soon died away in the distance. " Now for 
 this beldam," said Whately, sternly, as Atm' Jinkey ap- 
 proached, tottering in her excess of fear anil accompanied 
 by IVrkins. 
 
 Miss Lou saw that her cousin was terribly excited ; indeed, 
 that he fairly trembled with passion. She was scarcely less 
 stirred herself, for she possessed much of the hot blood of 
 her kindred, and during the last twenty-four hours nearly all 
 that had occurred tended to fire her spirit. Now that she 
 saw her own dear old mammy led cowering under the hostile 
 eyes of every one, she was almost besiile herself with pity 
 and anger. Unaccustomed to conventional restraint, re- 
 acting fronj long years of repression, a child still in some 
 respects, in others a i)assionate woman revolting at a fate 
 from which her whole nature shrank, she was carried far 
 above and beyond her normal condition, and was capable of 
 following her impulses, whatever they might be. 
 
 Aun' Jinkey turned her eyes appealingly, and was awed, 
 even in that terrible moment, by the intensity of the girl's 
 exi)ression, as she half consciously drew nearer and nearer. 
 'I'iie field -hands, deeply excited, had also edged up from 
 the ([uarters. Mr. Baron and his overseer observed yet 
 tolerated this, thinking that it might be just as well to 
 have the negroes learn from Aun' Jinkey's experience that 
 authority would still be sternly enforced. 
 
 Whately's headlong temperament was so overcome by 
 anger that he noted nothing except the presence of one 
 
i 
 
 rARAi.Y/.i'.n WITH S//.IM/:. 
 
 71 
 
 whom he believed the aider and abetter in his ^reat loss, 
 for a favorite and trusty horse is one of the dearest posses- 
 sions of a cavalryman. 
 
 '* Where's your grandson? " he demanded, nercely. 
 
 " '/>/ iff Laux/, I dunno," gasjjed Aun' Jinkey. 
 
 "The truth, now, or you'll l)e sorry." 
 
 •' I duiuio, I dunno. \\{ he gone, he ain' say neber a 
 word tcr me, not eben good-by." 
 
 " No use of your lying. You knew the rascal's pur- 
 pose. Why didn't you tell Mr. Baron? Which way did he 
 go?" 
 
 " I des declar, mars'r, I dunno." 
 
 " You (/() know," cried Wiiately, driven almost to frenzy, 
 "and I'll cut the truth out of you." 
 
 His whip fell before he could arrt^st it, but it struck the 
 arm and shoulder of Miss Lou. She had drawn very near, 
 and, swift as light, had sprung forward and encircled the form 
 of her mnmmy. There were startled exclamations from those 
 near, echoed by a groan from the negroes, and then the girl 
 spoke in stern, (lee[) tones, " You tl.ought to strike one 
 woman, and you have struck hvo.'" 
 
 Whately dropped his whip and stood with bowed head, 
 paralyzed with shame. There were wild cries and a sway- 
 ing of the field hands towards the house, 'i'he mounted sol- 
 diers drew their revolvers and looked from the thronging 
 black faces to that of their commander, but he paid no 
 heed to them. IVrkins did not wait, however, but drawing 
 his weapon, began to limp towards the threatening mass, 
 with oaths and orders to disperse. As for Mr. IJaron and 
 the ladies, they were just helpless in the whirl of events. 
 
 Although Miss Lou's back was towan'ts ^his new phase of 
 the drama, she instantly and instinctively comprehcrided it. 
 With a fear almost hereditary, as well as one vague'y .readed 
 from childhood, she recognized the possible horrors of an 
 
h 
 
 72 
 
 *'Af/SS LOU.'* 
 
 insurrection, her own action the indirect cause. She turned 
 and sprang forward so swiftly to interpose that her comb fell 
 away, and her golden hair streamed behind her. She stood 
 between the blacks and those who could harnj them ; also 
 those whom, in their wild excitement, they were ready to 
 attack. 
 
 " Silence ! " she cried ; then in the deej) hush that fol- 
 lowed she called out, in clear, ringing tones : •' Every 
 friend of mine will go back to quarters, keej) ([uiet, and 
 obey orders. I promise that no harm shall come to any of 
 you," 
 
 The men doffed their ragged hats, and a voice from the 
 crowd answered, '* We 'bey you, M^s Lou, en we won' let 
 no harm come ter you, noder." Then as the dense, angry 
 mass of a hundred or more men and women melted away 
 towards the (juarters, it was seen that uumy a heavy 
 club was carried among them. Miss Lou watcherl them 
 silently two or three moments, the rest looking on, in 
 wonder and suppressed anger mingled with fear. The girl 
 returned, and taking her mammy by the hand, was about to 
 lead her into the house, ^^'hately started as she essayed to 
 l)ass him unheedingly, and seized her hand. '* Lou, Cousin 
 Lou, forgive me ! " he cried. " You know I meant you no 
 such indignity." 
 
 " I know you mean me a greater one," she reijlied, coldly, 
 withdrawing her hand. 
 
 ** See ! I ask your forgiveness on my knees I " he urged, 
 passionately. 
 
 But her heart was steeled against him, for her very soul 
 was hot witii indignation. ** (Jome, mammy," she said, 
 firmly, " such shelter and protection as I still have in this 
 house you shall share." 
 
 " Louise, this is monstrous ! " began Mrs. Haron, 
 
 "iVc;/" cried the girl. "This poor creature is the nearest 
 
 i 
 
PAKALYZEJ) WITH SHAME. 
 
 71 
 
 approach I have ever known to a mother. She doesn't 
 know about her grandson, and no one shall try to cut' the 
 ruth out of her. Come, mammy," and she led the trem- 
 bhng old negress up to her room. When hidden from all 
 eyes her courage and e.xcitement gave way, and she cried on 
 her mammy's breast like the child she was. 
 
 jry 
 
74 
 
 *'MISS LOU.'' 
 
 ('HAPTKR X. 
 
 A HAI'FLF.I) DFPLOMAnsI 
 
 ^T ISS I.OU left consternation, confusion and {ici;> anxiety 
 X below stairs. Mad Whately had his own nule of 
 ethics, and he felt as if he had committed the unpardonable 
 sin. His mother was shocked and pained beyond measure. 
 She understood the feelings of her son, and sympathized 
 with him. Drawing him into the parlor, she soothed and 
 cheered him with the assurance that when his cousin's anger 
 passed she would explain and intercede. 
 
 "O mother!" he exclaimed, ''I did love her honestly 
 before, but now I adore her. I must marry her, and by a 
 lifetime of devotion wipe out the wrong I did not intend to 
 inflict." 
 
 " It will all come about right yet, my boy," she whispered. 
 " I never understood Louise betbre. I fear they have been 
 too strict and unsympathetic in her bringing uj), and so she 
 has naturally rebelled against all their plans. \o\\ didn't 
 think at the time — indeed, in our excitement we all forgot 
 — that Aun' Jinkey was her mammy, and you know how 
 strong that tie is, even in your case, and you have always 
 had a mother's love." 
 
 " ( )h, fool, fool that I was in my mad anger ! Brave, 
 grand, heroic girl ! I'd have done as much for my old 
 mammy ; or rather I'd have struck down a general l)efore 
 he should harm her. O mother, mother ' " concluded the 
 much-mdulged youth, " I must marry her. She is just the 
 bride for a soldier." 
 
A HA I' FLED DJri.OMATlST. 
 
 75 
 
 how 
 hvays 
 
 >ravc, 
 old 
 
 icforc 
 1 the 
 t the 
 
 " Rather than have ho; fall into the hands of the enemy, 
 we will lead her to see that it is the only thing to be done," 
 replied Mrs. Whately. 
 
 Perkins had a consultation with Mr. Haron, as far as that 
 desperately perturbed old gentleman was capable of holding 
 one, the result of which was the decision to let the negroes 
 alone, provided they kept fjuiet and obeyed. It was evident 
 to l)oth of them that the approach of Union forces, though 
 yet comparatively distant, had produced the usual demoral- 
 izing effects. The government at The Oaks had not been 
 harsh, but it had been strict and animated by a spirit which 
 alienated sympathy. The situation was now seen to be foo 
 critical to admit of severity, all the more as the protection 
 of Whately and his troopers might soon be withdrawn. 
 
 It was a silent and depressing meal to which they sat 
 down that evening, long after the accustomed hour, a fa«t 
 which Mr. Haron would not forget, even in the throes of an 
 earthquake. He groaned over it ; he groaned over every 
 thing, and especially over his nict j, who had suddenly 
 developed into the most unmanageable element in the whole 
 vexed problem of the future. He felt that they owed her 
 very much, and that she held the balance of power throiigli 
 her influence over the negroes ; and yet he was incensed 
 that she was not meek and submissive as a young woman 
 should be under all circumstances. An angry spot burned 
 in each of Mrs. Baron's cheeks, f<jr she felt that Miss Lou's 
 condu( t reflec'ted very unfavorably on her i)ringing up. Siie 
 was so scandalized and vexed that she coul<l scarcely think 
 of any thing else. Mrs. Whately was all dei)recation and 
 ajjology, trymg to i)our oil on the troubled waters in every 
 way, while her son was as savagely angry at himself as he 
 liad been at poor .\un' Jinkey and her grandson. 
 
 Most fortunately the main feature in the case remained un- 
 discovered. The fact that a I'nion scout had l>een hidden 
 
1^ 
 
 MISS I.OC. 
 
 !!■ 
 
 |! 
 
 and permitted to depart would have been another bomb- 
 shell, and the consequences of its wplosion would have be-n 
 tcjually hard to predict or circumscribe. As it was, Miss 
 Lou and Ann' Jinkey received a certain remorseful sympathy 
 which they would have forfeited utterly had the truth been 
 revealed. And the secret did treml))e on the lips of Zany. 
 She was not only greatly aggrieved that Chunk had " runned 
 away " after all, without her, and had become a sort of hero 
 among his own kind on the plantation, but she also felt 
 keenly her own enforced insignificance when she knew so 
 much more than that Chunk had merely decamped. Her 
 mistress little dreamed, as the girl waited stolidly anil 
 sullenly on the table, that she was so swelling with her 
 secret as to be like a powder mrgazine. But fear rather than 
 faith finally sealed Zany's lips. She was i .. .irc that the 
 first (juestion asked would l)e, " If you knev, •.(■ much, why 
 didn't ivv// tell?" and she could give no n.-a-on which would 
 save her from condign punishment Mo' _over, she ho|)ed 
 that Chunk would soon retur.i with mq . ] of " Linkum 
 men," and then hen silence would ;vj rcwardiJ. 
 
 Supper was •• nt up to Miss Lou and It^r guest, and the 
 old woman, havi.i„ at ;> t some Jiense of security, .nade her 
 first good P'**al s:nf.e " thi .^{s began to h,".|,pen." I'hen she 
 liankered after her pipe. ** Lll get it for yoi.," said the 
 warm-hearted girl. She stole to the head of the landing, 
 and, the hall below being clear at the moment, she fiitted 
 down ami out at the back door, reaching the deserted cabin 
 unobserved, \\o\w desolate it looked in the fading twilight ! 
 The fire was out on the hearth, and the old creaking chair 
 was empty. Hut Miss Lou did not think of Aun' Jiiikey. 
 Her thoughts were rather of a slrnnger whose face had been 
 eloquent of gratitude as he offered to shield her with his life. 
 Then she remembered his excited (juestion as to the time of 
 the m;'.riiage. " When?" Ha<l lier answer any thing to do 
 
A liAri'LEJ) J'liri.OMATIsr. 
 
 77 
 
 with the sudden and bold dei)arture? Her heart was in a 
 sudden flutter. She snatched the corncob pipe and tobacco 
 pouch, and sped back again in a strange l)len(hng of fear 
 dm\ hope. She felt guilty that she could dare hoi>e to see 
 him, a Yankee, again. " liut his smile was so pleasant and 
 frank I " she murmured. "Oh, I never remember to have 
 had such genial, honest, unreserved good-will K)oked at me 
 by any one except mammy, and she's so old and wrinkled 
 that she can't look much of any thing. What handsome, 
 kind, dark eyes he had ! Yet they would all say, * He's a 
 monster ! ' " 
 
 She made her way back in sTcty imtil sht; reachs'*! the 
 head of the stairs, ami then came plimip upon K'T aunt. 
 "Where have you been?" asked Mrs. IJaron, sharply. 
 
 "After Aun' jinkt-y's pipe." 
 
 " Horrible ! 1 forbid her smoking in this house." 
 
 " I shall {)ermit her to smoke in my room." 
 
 " You have no right." 
 
 "Very well ; then I'll go with her to her cabin.' 
 
 "My dear sister," said Mrs. Whately. putting her hand 
 on the irate lady's arm, " I think it >• ill be better to let o'ii 
 niece have her way in such little things. Wl must »e;ncmber 
 that she is no longer a child." 
 
 " I think she is acting like a v< i)erversc and fool'-ih 
 one , but then r.ither than have a more scenes " — and 
 looking uniuterable things slie pasMMl on down the stairs. 
 
 " My dear, I wish to see you I and by. Won't you K.t 
 me?" said Mrs. Wiiately. 
 
 " I wish to see you — I must ec you before I sleep," re- 
 l)lied the girl, derisively. 
 
 " I'll come up soon, then, dear." 
 
 Mrs. Uaron rei)()rted to her husband what had occurred, 
 but he only groaned. He was scarcely able to do nuu li <Isc 
 now. 
 
78 
 
 ''M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 " Oh, hang it ! " exclaimed Whately, ** what fiend directs 
 my luck this evening? If 1 iiad only known she had gone 
 to the cabin, I could have compclletl her to listen to nie 
 antl to my apologies." 
 
 *' No worse luck could have happened," said his mother, 
 entering. " Vou must curb your imi)atience, ami so — par- 
 don me for saying it — must you, brother and sister. Vou 
 are driving the girl to lengths she would never have thought 
 of going. She is exciied and almost beside herself. Von 
 forget, brother, that she is a Southern gu'l and a Haron, and 
 has all the si)irit of our race. She is one to be coaxed, to 
 yield to gentle i^ressure. and firm reasoning, antl not to be 
 driven." 
 
 "Oh, curse it ! we've maile a mess of it, I fear," groaned 
 NVhately, who was capable of violent alternations of aiood, 
 and now was in the valley of humiliation and almost de- 
 spair. 
 
 " Well, you must all 'ft me manage a little now," resumed 
 Mrs, Whately, somewhat complacently, " or else there is no 
 telling what trouble you n)ay ha\e." 
 
 " Yes, yes," cried her son, '* I insist on mother's managing. 
 She has a ways obtained what \ wanted, and 1 shall certainly 
 throw my life away if I don't marry Cousin Lou." 
 
 " Madison," said his nK)ther, tearfully, *' am I, who have 
 so lo;Kled you with kindness, of no account? " 
 
 ** Oh, forgive me, mother, 1 can't do any thing but blunder 
 to-night. I'm all broken uj>, distracted by contlic:l;ng duties 
 and feelings. I picked uj) itnportant information tiiis even- 
 ii\g. The Yankee colunm, halting in the rich valley to the 
 northwest, have l)een ranging thf country far and near, load- 
 ing their wagons and resting their horses. Tiiey will make 
 a move soon, and will come this way just as likely as not. 
 Otirft>r' es are coming uj) frou» the S<Mith, and there certainly 
 will be a fight soon somewhere in this region. I received a 
 
 ? I 
 
 ^^v -^ 
 
A BAtJ-LED DJPLOMATIHT, 
 
 79 
 
 secret dcspatcli at the court-liouse, after seeing the minister, 
 who will be here early to-morrow evening. After the 
 wedding I intend to escort mother and my wife south to 
 Cousin Sam VVhately's. They certainly will be out of tiie 
 Yankee line of march there. Perhaps you and aunt had 
 better go too." 
 
 " No," said Mr. Baron. " I intend to stay and faie it 
 out here. 1 shall stand or fall on my own hearth." 
 
 " And I shall remain with my husband," added Mrs. Baron, 
 firmlv. 
 
 " Well, nothmg worse may hapjjen than a general sack of 
 the place, but I cannot leave mother and the girl who is to 
 be my wife. I shall ride over to our place in the morning 
 for the best horse on it, and to see the overseer. I'll bring 
 back a few papers which I will put in your charge, uncle." 
 
 Thus they discussed the emergency till Mrs. Whately 
 thought she could ventur. to Miss Lou's room. Her son 
 acc()mi)anied her lo the door ,x\\(\ called out, " I give you 
 my word, < ousin, that Aun' Jinkey can go to her cabin, and 
 that no one shall disturb her ; " then he retreated to the 
 parlor again. 
 
 When Mrs. Whately entered the room, she witnessed what 
 was not reassuring. Miss Lou's white shoulder was bare, 
 and ujjon it was the long red mark of the wiiip. Aun' 
 Jinkey was bathing tiie bruise with some lotion. " My ])oor 
 t:hild ! " said the lady, " Madison is almost beside himself 
 with grief and self-rei)roach." 
 
 ** Please tell him," replied the girl, ** that I'm glad the 
 blow fell on me instead of nianmiy." 
 
 "Ah, well, my dear, \\q has asked forgiveness and is 
 profoundly sorry." 
 
 *' Hit soon be well, honey. Wish ter grashus hit wuz me 
 dat hab it ! en you barin' hit so patient, too, w'en I smokin'. 
 Dar, I kiver hit up now, en hit ain' dar in de mawnin'. I 
 
8o 
 
 *'Ar/ss i.oirr' 
 
 \ 
 
 iH 
 
 reck'n I go back ter de cal)in now, honey. I kin'er used 
 ter my own chiml)ly corner. Miss Whately got sump'n ter 
 say ter comfort you." 
 
 " Very well, mammy. I'll see that you have no trouble," 
 and the old woman departed. 
 
 "Surely, I,ouise, you cannot expect any more trouble, 
 after my son has said there would not be any," said Mrs. 
 Whately, in a somewhat aggrieved tone. 
 
 " You nuist have seen," was the reply, " that Cousin 
 Madison hasn't just the kind of self-control which inspires 
 confidence." 
 
 " I assure you, Louise, that he regrets his act as much 
 as you can. You should, in charily, remember his great 
 provocation." 
 
 " Well, then," Miss Lou burst out, *' let him make amends. 
 Here I am, a defenceless girl, with all my kindred against 
 me. He should be the fust to ilefend me." 
 
 "So he wishes to d*^, my dear; and he only craves the 
 most sacred right to defend you." 
 
 " Yes, in his own way, and without any regard to my 
 feelings and wishes." 
 
 " Indeed, my dear, you misjudge him. You ha\e only 
 to yield one point in order to make him a shive to your 
 wishes." 
 
 " liut that is yielding every thing. Oh, aunt, how can you 
 urge a girl towards a loveless marriage?" 
 
 " Now, my dear, just listen patiently to me for a few 
 moments," began Mrs. Whately in a wheedling tone. " I 
 am older than you are. I know young girls are apt to have 
 romantic notions, but when they reach my age t'ney fmd that 
 it is ever best to act in view of good and sufilicient reasons. 
 Apart from the terrible emergency that is upon us, you 
 know that wc all have had our hearts set on this marriage 
 almost ever since you were born, and we have made no 
 
\ 
 
 -•/ B.-\l'tLEl) PirLUiMATliiT, 
 
 %x 
 
 Uic 
 
 only 
 your 
 
 sou 
 
 t'cw 
 '•I 
 
 liavc 
 
 tiuit 
 
 isons. 
 
 you 
 
 riage 
 
 c no 
 
 secret of the fact. It would be a terrible disappointment 
 to );s if it should not take place. I fear that life has been 
 too strict and narrow for you here, but you know that in 
 my home you will dwell in an atmosphere of kindness and 
 intlulgence. I will give up to you whenever you are ready 
 to take the reins after these sore troubles are over. lUit, 
 Louise, you do not realize that we are in the midst of a 
 terrible emergency. You ought not to remain here. Madi- 
 son has arranged that we both go south to his cousin 
 Sam's." 
 
 " T don't wish to go I " crietl the girl, wringing her 
 hands. 
 
 " Now, my dear, can't you just believe that we, who are 
 more experienced and know the danger, wish to do what is 
 best for you antl what you will soon see was best?" 
 
 " No, I cannot ! I cannot ! I just feel that I can't 
 marry my cousin without perjuring myself." 
 
 "Surely you don't love any one else, Lx)uise?" 
 
 " What chance have I had to love any one, except my 
 old mammy? I don't know any thing about the love which 
 I feel should lead to marriage. I have just been treated 
 like a child, antl then without any girlhood at all I'm to be 
 married to one that I shrink from. I feel in my very soul 
 that it's all wrong and unjust." 
 
 " Hut, my dear, you won't feel so after you are a wife and 
 safe in your own home. V'ou will then feel that you have 
 reached v^oman's true place antl sphere, without incurring 
 the risks and misfortunes which befall so many. Your guard- 
 ians might have shown more tact, perhaps, but they meant 
 well, and they wish you well, and are seeking only your wel- 
 fare. Tluy f'jcl in honor bound to do what is best for you, 
 and not what, in your inexperience, you may wish at the 
 uioment, As for my son, a warmer-hearted fellow does not 
 bifuthe. He K»vci> you fondly. You cun influence him, you 
 D 
 
I 
 
 !i 
 
 m^ 
 
 82 
 
 ,i//.v.v /.or. 
 
 can control him as no other can, you have the strongest hold 
 tipon him." 
 
 "Alas!" said the girl, divining the ultimate truth, "you 
 love him blindly and wholly; you would sacrifice me, your- 
 self ami every thing to him, and because he has always had 
 every thing his own way, he would have me in spile of the 
 whole protest of my being. No one truly c ares for me ; no 
 one understands me. I have been thrown back upon books 
 and my own nature for such knowledge as I now so desjier- 
 ately need, and 1 feel that if I am false to my interests, to what 
 I believe is right, my life is spoiled. 1 don't wish to marry 
 any one, and as to all these dangers you so vaguely threaten, 
 I believe that if there is a good (iod, he will take care of 
 me." 
 
 "Well, my dear," said Mrs. Wlialely, striving to hide the 
 fact that she was baffled, " we won't talk any more about it 
 to-night. You are excited and worried, and incapable of 
 wise judgment. Rest and slee]) are what you nt'C(\ now," 
 and she kissed the girl, who did not return the caress. 
 
 "Wise judgment!" she muttered, bitterly, "what line 
 words they use ! So you, too, are hopelessly against me. 
 You would give nie to your son just as you >ised to give him 
 every thing he cried lor when a child. Well, then, I'll appeal 
 to the minister himself. I don't believe he can marry me 
 against my will. At any rate, I shall never give my consent, 
 nev«er ; and j)erhaps somebody may come in time. My 
 people are teaching me to fear them even more than the 
 Yankees." 
 
Al'\' JISKEVS IV.-IK.V/.VG. 
 
 8S 
 
 ^ 
 
 CIIAl'lKR XI. 
 
 AIN' IINKEV's WAKNINi;. 
 
 line 
 nic. 
 hiiu 
 
 thf 
 
 Tnr night passed like a lull in the storm. iV-rkins 
 reported that the negroes were «|uiet, contenting them- 
 selves with whispering and watchfulness. .Ann' Jinkey 
 smoked and do/ed in her chair, listening to every sound, 
 but n(/ ** s(|uinch-owl " renewed her fears. The family at 
 the mansioii were too perturbed to sleep much, for all knew 
 that tne morrow must bring decisive events. 'I'he three 
 soldiers sent after the recreant trooper returned from a 
 bootless chase and were allowed to rest, but Whately saw to 
 it that there was a vigilant watch kept by relief of guards on 
 the |)art of the others. He was not very greatly encouraged 
 by his mother's report, but as the hours passed the habits of 
 his life and the tendencies of his nature asserted themselves 
 with increasing force. He would marry his cousin on the 
 morrow ; he would not be balked in his dearest hope and 
 wish. The very resistance of the girl stimulated his i)urpose, 
 for throughout all his life nothing so enlwmced his desire for 
 any thing as difficulty and denial, ihe sulxluing the girl's 
 high s])irit into subservience to his own was in itself a pecul- 
 iarly alluring prospect, and he proved how little he appre- 
 < iated her < haracter by whiling away part of the night over 
 "laming of the Shrew." A creature of fitful impulse, 
 nurtured into an arrogant sense of superiority, he banished 
 all compunctions, persuading himself easily into the 
 belief that as soldier, officer, and lover h« was taking the 
 
^> 
 
 A/. 
 
 «"\^> -^^' oO. 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 
 2.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 U III 1.6 
 
 VQ 
 
 <? 
 
 /}. 
 
 / 
 
 
 :^^*^ 
 
 
 7 
 
 >^ 
 
 PhoiDgraphic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 J 
 
 ■^ 
 
 •N^ 
 
 \ 
 
 iV 
 
 \\ 
 
 % 
 
 V 
 
 
 6^ 
 
 Cv 
 
 > 
 
 ^ 
 
 "•i^ 
 
i° ■mp. 
 
 .<? 
 
 %^ 
 
 C?^ 
 
 .^ 
 
 jP 
 
84 
 
 MISS LOU. 
 
 hi 
 
 R 'J 
 
 \'\\\ 
 
 m^^ly course in going straight fcrward. "The idea of con- 
 sulting a whimsical girl at such a time," he muttered, "when 
 a Yankee horde may descend on the plantation within forty- 
 eight hours." ^ 
 
 Miss Lou was quite as sleepless as himself, and also did a 
 great deal of thinking. She had too much pride to hide 
 and mope in 'ler room. Her high, restless spirit craved 
 action, and she determined to brave whatever happewed 
 with the dignity of courage. She would face them all and 
 assert what she believed to be her rights before them all, 
 e\'en the clergyman himself. She therefore appeared at the 
 breakfast table with just enough color in her cheeks and fire 
 in her eyes to enhance her beauty. 
 
 " Ah, this is something like," exclaimed her uncle. " I 
 knew sleep and thought would bring back good sense." 
 
 Mrs. Whately kissed her effusively and Mrs. Baron for- 
 mally, the girl submitting with like mien in both instances. 
 Her cousin, in accordance with his mood and the policy he 
 had adopted, bowed gallantly and with a touch of grandilo- 
 quence in his tone said, " I again apologize before all for 
 my most unfortunate act last evening." 
 
 She only oowed silently in reply. 
 
 Then Whately assumed the air of one who had many 
 and weighty matters on his mind, his whole conversation 
 conforming to the accepted belief that they were facing a 
 terrible emergency, and that he, as the practical head of the 
 family at such a time, must act decisively for the best good 
 and safety of all. '* If I could be governed in this instance," 
 he said, " only by patriotic feeling I would advise the 
 destruction of all the forage on the place if convinced that 
 the Yanks were coming this way, but that would incite 
 them to every possible outrage. Still, 1 truly believe that it 
 would be best for you and aunt to go with us this evening." 
 
 •* No," said Mr. Baron, " I've settled that." • . 
 
 fc- 1 
 
m 
 
 a 
 
 lie 
 
 )d 
 
 n 
 1; 
 
 lie 
 lat 
 Ite 
 
 it 
 
 S^^ 
 
 /I (/A" flNKf'.Y'S WARNIXG. 
 
 85 
 
 " Haven't you negroes that you .can trust to take the stock 
 off into the woods for conceahiient? " 
 
 ''After Chunk's rascality I won't trust any of them." 
 
 '' Well, I shall adopt that plan at our place this morn- 
 ing and leave as little of value within reach as I can 
 help." 
 
 By a sort of tacit agreement it was thought best not to say 
 any thing to Miss Lou except as Mrs. Whately broached the 
 subject, it being believed that a quiet ignoring of her will 
 and a manifest purpose to carry out their own would have 
 the most weight in breaking down her opposition. Indeed 
 it was a shrewd policy, hard for the young girl to bear up 
 against. Mrs. Baron had been enjoined not to cross her 
 in litde things. The busy housekeeper was too preoccupied 
 to do so had she been disposed, but it troubled and incensed 
 the girl to the last degree to see her bustling about, prepar- 
 ing for the wedding as if it would take place as a matter of 
 course. Mrs. Whately's aftectionate smiles and encouraging 
 words were even harder to endure. That good lady 
 acted as if Miss Lou were a timid and coy maiden, who 
 merely needed heartening and reassuring in order to face a 
 brief ordeal, and then all would be well. Her cousin gal- 
 lantly lifted her hand to his lips and then rode away with 
 part of his men, saying cheerfully, " I'll manage every thing 
 for the best." 
 
 A vague terror seized upon the girl and she again sought 
 the refuge of Aun' Jinkey's cabin. She must have some one 
 to speak to who understood her, who felt for her. She found 
 that Mrs. Baron had been there before her, urging the com- 
 pletion of certain tasks. Indeed, the old woman was ironing 
 a white muslin dress which looked very bridal-like. Miss 
 Lou recognized it as her own' gown, which might naturally 
 be worn on such an occasion. 
 
 "Who brought that here?" she asked quickly. 
 
 •# 
 
 il* 
 
m 
 
 "M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 •'■\ 
 
 HIP 
 
 i I : 
 
 " Ole miss, honey. She said you cud war dis or de one 
 you hab on, des cz you pleases." 
 
 " Aun' Jinkey," said the girl in an awed whisper, " do you 
 think they can marry me against my will? " 
 
 "Miss Lou, I declar ter you I'se been smokin' en pro- 
 jcckin' ober dat mos' all night." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Hit 'pears ter me a orfuUy mux-up question. Yere yo' 
 gyardins, ole mars'r en ole miss. Dey's des had dere say 
 on dis plantashon sence I wuz a gyurl. You wuz trus' ter 
 dem ter be took keer on en you tole me how he manage yo' 
 prop'ty. He call you he ward. I des dunno w'at po'r dat 
 ward business gib 'im. I'se yeared en my day ob young 
 gyurls mar'ed yere en mar'ed dar en dey ain' sayin' much 
 'bout who dcy mar'y. Folks say dat wuz de way wid ole 
 miss. I reckermember dem days en I year ole mars'r's 
 foder talk'n wid her fader 'bout w'at dey call set'l'ments en 
 po'tions. Den ole miss's mammy tole me how her young 
 miss wuz cool ez a cowcumber, en how she say her folks 
 know bes' en she sat'sfied ; en den how she gib her min' ter 
 w'at she call her trosso. Why honey, I des doin' up tings 
 ob dat ar trosso yit." 
 
 " That's just the trouble with aunt," said Miss Lou scorn- 
 fully. " I don't believe she ever had heart enough to love 
 with." 
 
 " Well, I reck'n ole mars'r is projeckin' dis a,way. Ole 
 miss, she settle down en tuck hole strong. She des kin'er 
 fall inter he ways en mek tings hum wid de yard en house 
 folks. She des a nachel-bawn housekeeper, en we uns all 
 had ter stan' roun' en do ez she sed sud'n, we sutn'y did ; 
 en ole mars'r, he tink hit be des de same wid you." 
 
 " But it won't, mammy. I'm not like my aunt." 
 
 " Dat you ain', honey, bless de Lawd ! Ole miss neber 
 Stan' 'twix me en a whip, en she neber run far my pipe en let 
 
 *v* 
 
// [J A' ' JINKE Y '.V ]V A RACING, 
 
 87 
 
 ■ 
 
 I 
 
 her shdl'cr ;uhe wliiles I smokes like ;i olc 1 '"mage. I'se 
 only (les a s'})lainin' liow (ley feels 'bout yo' mar'age." 
 
 "Ah, hut mammy, you know how I feel about it. I won't 
 marry my ( ou^in if 1 can help it." 
 
 "Hit's yo' feelin's, honey, w'at (les riles up my in'erds so 
 I kyant hardly wuk. Dat's whar my projeckin' gins out, en 
 I'se kin'er stump'd 'bout hit. Dey's gwine right 'long wid 
 dere prep'rations des ez ef (ley cud do ez dey pleased. 
 Dunno w'at de law is 'bout hit ef dere is any law in dese 
 mux-up times. I'se des took clar off my foots wid all de 
 goin's on. De fiel'-han's at de (juarters is bilin' ober wid 
 'citement, en dey's sayin' de Linkuni men's comin' ter upset 
 ebry ting. \Vhar dey get de news fum I dunno. Dey sez 
 ole mars'r is 'stracted en ole miss des put her thin lips 
 tergedder ez ef she gwine ter hab her way ter de las' minit. 
 Ez fer Marse Whately, you knows he al'ays hab his way, en 
 ef dere isn't eny way he mek it. You sez de min'ster en 
 folks is comin' ? Hit des stumps me fer dem ter go on so 
 ef dey hasn't de po'r." 
 
 " Well, then," said the girl desperately, " they will have 
 to use force all the way through. I'll never give my 
 consent." 
 
 *• P'raps w'en de min'ster see dat he woan mar'y you." 
 " That's just my hope," said the girl, " I " — 
 A quick step was heard and a moment later Mrs. Baron 
 entered the cabin. Ostensibly she came for some of the 
 articles which Aun' Jinkey had ironed, but Miss Lou knew 
 she was under surveillance and she departed without a word. 
 On entering her room she found that her little trunk had 
 been packed and locked in her absence and that the key 
 was gone. She felt that it was but another indignity, another 
 phase of the strong quiet pressure urging her towards the 
 event she so dreaded. A hunted, half-desperate look came 
 into her eyes, but she did not waver in her purpose. 
 
 >f 
 
 4 
 
88 
 
 ''MISS LOU.'' 
 
 . ■ ;l 
 
 Mrs. Whately knocked but the girl would not admit her. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Baron said to Aun' Jinkey in parting, 
 " Sec to it that you don't put foolish notions in my niece's 
 hcac\. We are none of us in a mood for trifling to-day." 
 
 Then the old woman's wrath burst out. " You 'speck I'se 
 feared ter speak fer dat chile w'at stan' by me so? Bettah 
 be keerful yosef, mistis ; you alls gittin' on ve'y scarey 
 groun' wid Miss Lou. You tink you kin do wid her w'at 
 you pleases des ez ef she a lil gyurl baby. I reck'n her 
 moder come out'n her grabe ter look arter you ef you ain' 
 keerful." 
 
 *' What do you mean by such language? " 
 
 " I mean des dis, mistis. Ef you tinks Miss Lou ole 
 anuff ter mar'y you know she ain' a chile. Ef she ain' a chile 
 she a woman. Does you tink you kin tromple on a \Voman? 
 You kin tromple on me en I ain' sayin' not n, but you kyant 
 tromple on a w'ite woman like yosef. I tells you you gittin' 
 on scarey groun' wid Miss Lou." 
 
 " If you both had sense you would know we are getting 
 her off scarey ground, as you call it. All you have to do is 
 to obey my orders and not meddle." 
 
 "Ve'y well, mistis, I'se warn you," said Aun' Jinkey, sul- 
 lenly returning to her work. 
 
 "Warn me of what?" But the old woman would not 
 vouchsafe another word. 
 
 Mrs. Baron returned to the house, her lips compressed 
 with a firme purpose to maintain discipline on deck till the 
 ship went down, if that was to be the end. Combined with 
 her cold, unimaginative temperament was a stronger and 
 more resolute spirit than that of her husband, who now was 
 chiefly governed by his lifelong habit of persistence. He 
 adhered to his purposes as a man at sea clings to the ship 
 which he feels is going to pieces beneath him. 
 
 Chunk and Scoville reached the Union camp in the gray 
 
// UN • JfXKK Y \S \VA RNfNG. 
 
 89 
 
 ^.Ji 
 
 dawn of the morning, and the latter soon had an audience 
 with the commanding officer, with whom he was a favorite 
 scout. The small party which had been compelled to leave 
 Scoville behind had brought important information, gained 
 chiefly by the young man's daring and address, and ihe 
 general was very glad to see him again and to be assured 
 of his escape. 
 
 "We are ready to move," said the commander, "and the 
 information brought in by your party has decided me to 
 bear off to the southeast in order to meet the enemy 
 approaching from the southwest. As soon as you are 
 rested, Lieutenant Scoville " — 
 
 "Sir! what?" 
 
 " Yes, I had recommended you for promotion and the 
 order has come." 
 
 "If zeal in your service, su" — began the scout, flushing 
 proudly. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I understand all that. I remember the men 
 who serve me well. As soon as you're able to start out in 
 the same direction again I would like you to do so." 
 
 " I'm able now," said Scoville eagerly, and then he briefly 
 related the situation of affairs at the Oaks, concluding, " If 
 I had twenty-five men I believe I could not only prevent 
 tlie marriage but capture all the Confederates with their 
 information. They have been scouting uj) towards us just 
 as we were towards the enemy." 
 
 " All right," said the general, laughing. " Perhaps the 
 marriage may come off yet, only with another groom." 
 
 "No, sir," said Scoville, gravely. "The girl befriended 
 me in my sore need. She is as good and innocent as a 
 child, and I would shield and respect her as I would my 
 own sister." 
 
 " That's the right spirit, Lieutenant. I was not sure how 
 far matters had gone — in fact, was only jesting." 
 
 t -j 
 
 
 ,i^ \ 
 
90 
 
 '' M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 T 
 
 Scoville made a hearty breakfast, and within an hour, at 
 the head of over a score of men, was rapidly retracing his 
 steps. Chunk following in a state of wild elation. They both 
 had been furnished with fresh horses, and the tough, elastic 
 sinews of the newly- fledged officer were tense with an 
 unwonted excitement. If those tearful blue eyes of Miss 
 Lou should welcome him as deliverer this would be the 
 most memorable day of his life. 
 
 ;^! 
 
1 
 
 A IVHrRLlVIXD OF EVENTS, 
 
 9' 
 
 CHAFFER XI r. 
 
 A WHIRLWIND OF EVEXrs. 
 
 WHATF^LY returned wearing a rather gloomy and 
 angry aspect. He had threatened his negroes and 
 f:tormed at them ; they had hstened in sullen silence. The 
 overseer had said, " Hit's the old story. They have heard 
 that the Yanks are near and may come this way. Fact is, 
 one doesn't know what they haven't heard. They hold 
 together and keep mum. You can see that all discipline is 
 at an end among *em." 
 
 Whately could only give the man such directions as the 
 emergency dictated, obtain some valuables, and return 
 chafed and all the more bent upon securing out of the 
 possible wreck the one object he most coveted. But Miss 
 Lou puzzled him and perplexed them all. She had taken 
 refuge in almost absolute silence, and was as unresponsive to 
 Mrs ^Vhately's endearments as to her uncle and aunt's 
 expostulations, while towards Whately she was positively 
 freezing in her coldness. Troubled and inwardly enraged, 
 he was yet more than ever determined to carry out his pur- 
 pose. His orders to his men were given sharply and sternly, 
 and his mood was so fierce that there was no longer any 
 affectation or assumption on his part. The girl's heart 
 fluttered with nameless fears, but she had the strength of 
 will to maintain the cold, impassive demeanor she had 
 resolved upon. She felt that it would be useless to make 
 further effort to influence her kindred and that if she re- 
 
 't 'J 
 
 ■'SI 
 
 m 
 
_^. J — ^ 
 
 92 
 
 •M//.V.V /,rV/. " 
 
 i 
 
 i '11 
 
 rii 
 
 iri!^ 
 
 I 
 
 vealcd her purpose to appeal to the < leri^yrDnn, tlicy might 
 so prejudice his miiul against licr that he would not hsten 
 favorably. Fearing that this niight he the case anyway, she 
 found her thoughts turning with increasing fre(|uency to the 
 l^ossible intervention of the IFnion scout. She both hoped 
 for and feared his coming, supi)orted as he would be, in this 
 instance, by followers who might be so different from him- 
 self. She could not free her mind from the induence of 
 the stories about Northern soldiers, and yet she was sure 
 that as far as his ])ower went, they would all be |)rotected. 
 Indeed, one danger menaced so closely and threateningly 
 she could scarcely think of any thing else than escape and 
 relief from it. 
 
 As the sun began to sink in the west her uncle came to 
 her door and said autlioritatively, " Louise, I wish you to 
 come down." 
 
 She obeyed without a word and entered the i)arlor vv+ierc 
 all were assembled, noting with dismay that the Rev. 
 I)r, Williams was already present. Her cousin sought to 
 meet iier gallantly, but she evaded him and took a seat. 
 Mr. Baron began a sort of harangue. " Louise," he said, 
 " as your guardian and in ol^edience to my sense of duty in 
 a great responsibility, 1 have ap])roved of this marriage. I 
 am convinced that tlie time will speedily come when you 
 will be glad that I — that we all — were firm at this time. 
 Both I and your aunt are growing old. Troubles, sore in- 
 deed ev/en for the young to endure, are upon us. I am not 
 sure that a roof will cover our gray hairs much longer. Per- 
 haps in the dead of this very night the ruthless enemy may 
 come. Now, your aunt Whately's carriage is at the door. 
 A gallant soldier and a Confederate officer, the choice of all 
 your kindred, is eager to give you his name and loving pro- 
 tection. He will take you far away from war's rude alarms, 
 with its attendant and horrible perils. We have no common 
 
! 
 
 ,•; WniKLWlND O/' ZiKA.V/lS'. 
 
 93 
 
 v+iere 
 
 lev. 
 
 It to 
 
 seat. 
 
 said, 
 
 ty in 
 
 e. I 
 you 
 
 time. 
 
 e in- 
 
 n not 
 Per- 
 may 
 
 door. 
 
 of all 
 
 pro- 
 
 arms, 
 
 nmon 
 
 foe to deal with, but monsters animated by unfjuenchable 
 hatred and a diabolical sjjirit. I should betray my trust 
 and be recreant to my duty did I not avail myself of the one 
 avenue of safety still open to you. See, your cousin's brave 
 men are mounted, armed, and ready to act as your escort. 
 Dr. Williams is here to [)erform his gootl offices, althougli 
 other invited friends have not ventured from home in this 
 time of peril which recent tidings prove to be increasing 
 every hour. In a few moments you will be an honored wife, 
 on your way to a place of refuge, instead of a helpless girl 
 whose defenders may soon be scattered or dead." 
 
 "Truly, Miss Haron," said the clergyman, rising and ap- 
 [)roaching, " you cannot hesitate in circumstances like these." 
 
 Miss Lou felt her tongue clinging t(j the roof of her 
 mouth, and could only say in ;f hoarse whisper, '' But I do 
 not love my cousin — I do not wish to marry." 
 
 " That may be your feeling at this moment. Indeed, cir- 
 cumstances are not conducive to gentle amatory feelings, and 
 all may seem sudden and hasty to you, but you must con- 
 sider that your relatives in this emergency — indeed that all 
 your neighbors — are doing many things and taking many pre- 
 cautions that would not be thought of in a time of security. 
 I have already sent my own family farther South, and now in 
 your case and Mrs. Whately's I feel that time is pressing. 
 Will you please rise and take your cousin by the hand? " 
 
 She shook her head and remained motionless. Whately 
 advanced decisively, took her hand, and sought gently to 
 draw her into position before the clergyman. His touch 
 broke the spell, the paralysis of dread, and she burst out, 
 '• No, no, you cannot marry me when my whole soul pro- 
 tests. I will not be married ! " 
 
 " Louise, I command you," began Mr. Baron excitedly. 
 
 " It makes no difference. I will not I I will not I " was the 
 passionate and almost despairing response. 
 
 ' n 
 
 ••.Vr 
 
! 
 
 94 
 
 M/ss i.or. 
 
 I : 
 
 --' 
 
 I I ;1 
 
 " Oh come, cousin, you arc just excited, frightened, and 
 off your balance," said Whately soothingly. 
 
 " My dear Miss Jiaron," added the clergyman, " let me 
 reassure you. It is evident that you are a little nervous and 
 hysterical., I'raybe calm and trust your relatives to do what 
 is best for you. 1 do not wonder that your nerves have 
 given way and that " — 
 
 " My nerves have not given way. Unfriended child that 
 I am, I must not lose self-control, (iod grant that my will 
 does not give way." 
 
 *' Unfriended ! " exclaimed Mrs. Whately reproachfully. 
 « Pew girls in these times have so many to care and think 
 for them. We are all bent on securing your welfare at every 
 cost." 
 
 " Yes, at every cost to met" 
 
 *' Dr. Williams sees the wisdom and reasonableness of our 
 course. My son is even straining his sense of military duty 
 to escort us to a place of safety, where you will still be 
 among relatives." 
 
 "Then let him escort me as his cousin, not his wife," 
 cried the girl. 
 
 " But, Miss Baron, in the turmoil and confusion which 
 may ensue you will be far safer as his wife," Dr. Williams 
 urged. " I would have been glad if I could have given my 
 daughter like protection. Truly, it is not wise to be swayed 
 by mere nervous excitement at such a time." 
 
 " Oh, even you, from whom I hoped so much, are against 
 
 me 
 
 » )> 
 
 ** No, my dear child," replied the minister, earnestly and 
 sincerely, " I am for you always, but I cannot help seeing, 
 with your relatives, that at present you are not in the quiet 
 state of mind which would enable you to act wisely for your- 
 self. What earthly motive could I have except your safety, 
 welfare and happiness ? " 
 
 { ; 
 
I 
 
 .•/ w'lffKiM'txn OF /rExrs. 
 
 95 
 
 r and 
 
 ieing, 
 
 quiet 
 
 your- 
 
 safety, 
 
 '• Well, then," said the girl, with a swift glance around and 
 .;s if turinng into stone, * do your worst. I will never give 
 my consent, never ! " 
 
 'i'hey looked at each other perplexetlly and inquiringly, as 
 if to ask what should be done, whci^ I'erkins hurst in at the 
 back door of the hallway shouting, *' The \'anks ! " 
 
 Tile girl sunk into a chair and covered her burning face 
 for an instant. Deep in her soul slie divined wlio her 
 rescuer was, yet in the niiclst of lu-r hope she felt a certain 
 consciousness of guilt and fear. Mr. Ikiron, Dr. Williams, 
 and the ladies, half-paralyzed, yet drawn by a dreadful fasci- 
 nation, api)roache(l the open windows. Mad Whately now 
 l)layed a better i)art. He was in full uniform and his horse 
 stood saddled without. Me went to it, mounted with almost 
 the swiftness of light, and was just in time to see the Feder- 
 als sweep around the drive which led to the stables. Scoville 
 had brought his little force by the finniliar way of Ann' 
 Jinkey's cabin. Furious at being forestalled, and in obedi- 
 ence to a headlong courage which none disputed, Whately's 
 sabre flashed instantly in the rays of the sinking sun, and 
 his command, **(.'harge!" rang clear, without a second's 
 hesitancy. 
 
 I'he order echoed in the girl's heart and she felt that she 
 had too much at stake not to witness the conflict. Her own 
 high spirit also prompted the act, and in a moment she was 
 out on the veranda. She saw her cousin spur directly 
 towards the leader of the Federals, in whom she recognized 
 the Union scout. His men came galloping after him, but 
 seemed more inclined to envelop and surround the Confed- 
 erates than to engage in hand-to-hand conflicts. The latter 
 were experienced veterans and quickly recognized that they 
 were being overpowered and that there was no use in throw- 
 ing away their lives. Hasty shots were fired, a few sabres 
 clashed, but the demand, '' Surrender ! " heard on all sides, 
 
 
m 
 
 VJ ' 
 
 If-: 
 
 !l I 
 
 IM- 
 
 if 
 
 
 96 
 
 "A//SS LOU.'' 
 
 was so well enforced by the aspect of the situation that 
 compliance soon began. Scoville and Whately, with those 
 immedialely about thern, maintained the conflict. The two 
 young officers were evenly matched as swordsmen, although 
 the Federal was the larger, stronger, and cooler inan. As a 
 result, their duel was quickly terminated by the loss of 
 Whatcly's sabre, wrenchecf from his hand. Then the point 
 of his foe's weapon threatened his throat, and the word 
 " Surrender ! " was thundered in his ears. 
 
 Instead o^" complying, he fell from his horse as if shot, lay 
 still an instant, and tlien in tlie confusion of the melee glided 
 ♦hrough an adjacent basement door and disappeared. See- 
 ing him fall, his mother uttered a wild shriek and gave way 
 to almost hysterical grief. A backward glance revealed to 
 Whately that the fight was lost, or rather that it had been 
 hopeless from the first, and his one thought now was to 
 escape and lead back a larger force for the purposes of both 
 rescue and vengeance. Gaining a rear door, a bound took 
 him to some shrubbery. A second later he was behind the 
 kitchen. Aun' Suke sa^v liinj, threw up her hands, and 
 uttered an inarticulate cry. A moment or two more and he 
 was in the stable, leading out a horse. All attention was now 
 so concentrated in front of the mansion that he was not 
 observed. He took only time to slip on a bridle, then 
 springing on the animal's bare back, he struck into a field 
 behind a clump of trees. Putting the horse to a run, he was 
 soon beyond successful pursuit. Some of his own men had 
 seen hiui fall before they were driven back, and behevcd that 
 he was either wound'^d or dead ; thronging Federals, una- 
 ware of the circu.Tistances, occur ied the ground, and only 
 Miss Lou, with an imme:ise burden lifted from her heart, saw 
 his ruse and flight. She wished him well sincerely if he 
 would only leave her to herself. Hastening to Mrs. Whately 
 she speedily restored the lady with assurances of her son's 
 
W WinRIAVhVD OF EVEXTS. 
 
 97 
 
 t, lay 
 lided 
 See- 
 3 way 
 ed to 
 been 
 as to 
 both 
 took 
 d the 
 and 
 nd he 
 .s now 
 s not 
 then 
 field 
 e was 
 n had 
 d that 
 u na- 
 il only 
 t, saw 
 if he 
 hately 
 sonN 
 
 'iscape, then with her joineci the group on the veranda. Mr. 
 Baroii, in the crisis of his affairs and as the head of the 
 family, maintained a dignity and composure which of late 
 had been lacking. 
 
 Scoville paid no hexl to them until every vestige of resist- 
 ance had ceased and the Confederates were disarmed antl 
 collected as prisoners. Then sitting on his horse in front of 
 the piazza ste],)S he rapidly gave his orders. His first act was 
 to send a \'idette down the avenue towards tlie main road ; 
 tlien he selected five men, saying, "Take charge of the 
 stables, barn, and out-buildings. Keep them as they are 
 and permit no one to approach without my written orders." 
 
 At this moment the field-hands, who had been surging 
 nearer and nearer, sent forward, a sort of improvised deputa- 
 tion. They approached bov/ing, with liats in hand and 
 wistful looks in their eyes. AVere these in truth the mes- 
 sengers of freedom of whom tliey had heard so much ? Mr. 
 Baron almost gnashed his teeth as he witnessed this action 
 on the part of his property. 
 
 *' Mars'r," said the spokesman, " I reck'n you got good 
 news for we uns." 
 
 '■'Yes, good news. You are ail free." His words rang 
 out so that they; were heard by every one. Shouts and cries 
 of exultation followed like an echo, and ragged hats were 
 tossed iiigh in joy. 
 
 The young soldier raised his hand with a warning and 
 repressive gesture. In the silence that ensued he added, 
 " My men here are bjth free and white, yet they must obey 
 orders. So must you. Oo back to your quarters and prove 
 yourselves worthy of freedom by quiet behavior and honesty. 
 If I find any one, black or white, acting the part of a thief 
 while I am in charge it will go hard with him. The general 
 will be here to-morrow and he will advise you further." 
 
 His words found immediate acceptance, the negiocs re- 
 
 Hi 
 
i« 
 
 'I 
 
 liiiil 
 
 ; 'i 
 
 ^:ii 
 
 II, 1^ 
 I". 
 
 ;: I ! 
 
 ! ;' !' 
 
 I \ 
 
 ' i 
 
 !l ! 
 
 ll I 
 
 98 
 
 "A//SS L (){.'." 
 
 turning to the quarters, laughing and chatting joyously, 
 not a few wiping tears of deep emotion iVom their eyes. 
 The long expected day had come. They little knew what 
 the future had in store f^r them, but this was the beginning 
 of a new era and the fulfilment of a great hope. 
 
 Scov lie now dismounted and gave the reins to Chunk, 
 who stood near with a droll assumption of soldier-like stiff- 
 ness and oblivion to all the well-known faces. Mounting 
 the steps, cap in hand, the young officer approached Mr. 
 Baron, who was becoming a little assured that the orders 
 thus far heard had not included a general application of the 
 torch. 
 
 " Mr. Baron, I presume?" said Scoville. 
 
 "Yes, sir," was the stiff reply. 
 
 " The ladies of your household, I suppose ? " 
 
 " They are." 
 
 Scovilh bowed ceremoniously to each, giving Miss Lou 
 no other sign of recognition than a humorous twinkle in his 
 eye. " Ladies," he began, '• since it is the fortune of war 
 that I must have command here for a brief time, I hasten to 
 assure you that we shall give as little annoyance as possible. 
 A few men on both sides were wounded, and I fear that the 
 officer commanding your men was killed. At least I saw 
 him fall. The night is warm and still and I can make a hos- 
 pital here on the piazza with a little aid from you. Please dis- 
 miss all further fears. Unless we are attacked, the night shall 
 pass quietly. Each and every one w'll be treated with 
 respect and courtesy. I must request ol" you, however, sir," 
 addressing Mr. Baron, " food for myself and men and forage 
 'for oui" horses." 
 
 " I suppose you will take them anyway," growled the 
 unwilling host. 
 
 "Certainly," replied Scoville, giving him a steady look. 
 *' Do you expect us to go hungry? I shall do my duty as a 
 
 • « 
 * 
 
A WnrRLWIVD OF EVIuYTS. 
 
 99 
 
 )yoilsly, 
 X eyes. 
 ;vv what 
 ginning 
 
 Chunk, 
 ke stiff- 
 [ounting 
 led Mr. 
 3 orders 
 n of the 
 
 soldier and an officer, as well as deport myself as a gentle- 
 
 liss Lon 
 lie in his 
 of war 
 astcn to 
 )ossible. 
 Ithat the 
 t I saw 
 e a hos- 
 ase dis- 
 ht shall 
 ed with 
 er, sir," 
 ll forage 
 
 [led the 
 
 * 
 I 
 
 man. 
 
 There was nothing left f(jr Mr. Baron but to give his 
 directions to Perkins, or for the jadies but to make jjrepara- 
 tions for the improvised hospital. Miss Lou gratefully rec- 
 ognized that Scoville did not intend to compromise her in 
 the least nor reveal his previous accjuaintance unless it should 
 
 become known through no fault of his. 
 
 She lingered a 
 Mav 
 
 u 
 
 moment as Dr. \\'illiams stepped forward and asked, 
 I be permitted to return to my home?" 
 
 ''I trust so, certainly, sir, but my duty rec^uires brief ex- 
 planation on your part and pledges that you will take no 
 hostile action. We are not among friends you know." 
 
 " I can very readily account for myself, sir," was the stiff 
 response. " I was summoned here to perform a wedding 
 ceremony which your most inopportune arrival prevented. 
 I am a man of peace, not of war, yet I can not and will not 
 give any pledges." 
 
 " It is scarcely fair then, sir, for you to take refuge in 
 your calling, but I will waive that point. I must warn you, 
 however, that we can give protection to those only who do 
 not seek to harm us. You are at liberty. Good-evening, 
 sir." 
 
 He had extracted from the clergyman the fact that he 
 had arrived in time, and he again gave the girl in the door- 
 way a mirthful glance, then turned on his heel to attend to 
 his mihtarv duties. 
 
 Miss Lou hastened to her room with hot cheeks. 
 
 k 
 ft 
 
 lly look, 
 lity as a 
 
11 
 
 1*1 
 
 j 
 
 Uw 
 
 nil 
 
 
 ' ^ 
 
 ' ■ ii 
 
 i I 
 
 I I ! 
 
 i 
 
 
 ! 
 
 I ; it 
 
 roo 
 
 "M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. 
 
 SCOVILLE soon learned that his opponent, so fiir from 
 being killed or even wounded, had escaped. He was 
 not much worried by this fact, believing that before the 
 Confederate officer could reach his friends and bring back 
 an attacking force, the Federal column would be on the 
 ground. Inde>.d, he was glad that the family upon 
 which he had quartered himself could not associate him 
 with so terrible a calamity. The young girl might not wish 
 to marry her cousin, yet be sorry if he were fatally or even 
 seriously wounded, while the rest of the household would 
 be plunged in the deepest distress. Although a resolute 
 soldier, Scoville was a kind-hearted fellow, and disposed to 
 take the most genial views of life that circumstances per- 
 mitted. There was a humor about his present situation 
 which he relished exceedingly. He was buoyant over the 
 interrui)ted wedding, and bent upon disap})ointing Mr. Baron 
 in all his grewsome expectations in regard to the Yankees. 
 There should be discipline, order, quiet, and an utter 
 absence of all high-tragedy. He cautioned his men against 
 the slightest tendency to excess, even forbidding the chaff- 
 ing of the negroes and noisiness. A steer, a pig, and some 
 fowls were killed {'.}X supper, and the wood for cooking it 
 was taken from an ample pile in the rear of the house. 
 Happily, none were seriously wounded, and being veterans 
 were able to do much for one another, while an elderly man 
 
 i 
 
 I i 
 
 Ihi^! hii i! 
 
'/'///•; (^.v/:x /'/:(' /'/'J) //A/'/'/.xs. 
 
 lOI 
 
 r from 
 ^e was 
 re the 
 5 back 
 311 the 
 upon 
 e him 
 t wish 
 r even 
 would 
 sokite 
 sed to 
 s per- 
 uation 
 er the 
 Baron 
 nkees. 
 utter 
 gainst 
 chaff- 
 some 
 ting it 
 house. 
 Iterans 
 man 
 
 in the troop who luid some rude surgical experience, supple- 
 mented their efforts. Miss Lou speedily joined her aunts in 
 rummaging for old linen for bandages, and the performance 
 of humane duty by the elderly ladies dulled the edge of the 
 terrible truth that they were in the hands of the Yankees. 
 True, they had to admit to themselves that*the young soldier 
 did not appear like a "ruthless monster" and that his con- 
 duct thus far had been almost ceremoniously polite ; yet all 
 this might be but a blind on the part of a cunning and 
 unscrupulous foe. 
 
 When they came down to the veranda with the materials 
 required, the unscrupulous foe met them, cap in hand, 
 thanked them courteously, and gave his entire attention to 
 the wounded, treating the men of both sides alike. Mrs. 
 Whately, in glad reaction from overwhelming fear concern- 
 ing her son's safety, offered her services in behalf of the few 
 wounded Confederates and they were readily accepted. 
 Before she was aware of it she found herself conferring with 
 the young officer and the surgical trooper in regard to the 
 best treatment of the injuries. Having long been mistress 
 of a plantation and accustomed to act promptly when any of 
 her slaves were hurt, she now proved a valuable auxiliary. 
 When the soldiers with whom she sympathized were attended 
 to, her kindness of heart led her on to the Federals, who 
 thanked her as gratefully as if they were not depraved 
 Yankees. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Baron had retired to the parlor, where they 
 sat in state, awaiting in gloomy fortitude the darker devel- 
 opments of what they deemed the supreme tragedy of their 
 lives. Miss Lou was flitting in and out, getting lint and 
 other articles recjuired l)y Mrs. Whately. She found it no 
 easy matter to maintain tlie solennu'ty of aspect which her 
 guardians thought approi)riate to the ocxasion, but was 
 assisted in this effort by her genuine pity for the wounded. 
 
 'I 
 
 
 
 
 ^ i 
 
 i '\\ 
 
■I ! 
 
 m:i; 
 
 III 
 
 it' 
 
 ii 
 
 
 .1 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 i ^ : i . 
 
 : j ,1 ill' 
 
 i r 1 ! 
 
 
 1 il 
 
 j 
 
 ii!! 
 ' !' 
 
 1 
 
 1 !' ! 
 
 i' 1 
 
 1 1 i 
 
 4 
 
 t ,' 
 
 1 
 
 '•' 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 ; 1 '' 
 
 1 
 
 j 
 
 P 
 
 1: 
 
 1 
 
 102 
 
 J//SS LOU.'' 
 
 In her joyous relief at escape from a hated union her heart 
 was hght indeed. Slie had, moreover, no shght sense of 
 humor, and was just bubbling over with mirth at the fact 
 that although the Yankee monsters, from whom it was said 
 she must be rescued at every cost, were masters of the 
 situation, they were engaged in nothing more ruthless than 
 feeding their horses, preparing supper, and caring for the 
 wounded. The most delicious thing of all was that one of 
 the chief prophets of evil, her Aunt Whately, was aiding in 
 the last-named task. Her exultation was increased when 
 she brought the last article required and Scoville said with 
 his genial smile, so well remembered, ''■ I think I can assure 
 you now, Miss Baron, that all will do very well. We are 
 deeply indebted to this lady (bowing to Mrs. Whately) 
 whose services have been as skilful as humane." 
 
 Now one of the things on which Mrs. Whately most 
 prided herself was the generally accepted belief that she 
 was as good as a country physician in an emergency, and 
 she could not refram from a slight and gracious acknowledg- 
 ment of Scoville's words. As they drew near to the door 
 she said hesitatingly, " Perhaps, sir, I should make an 
 acknowledgment of deep indebtedness to you. I saw your 
 sabre raised and pointed at my son's throat. Could you 
 not have killed him had you so wished?" 
 
 " Ah ! this is Mrs. Whately. Believe me, madam, we are 
 not so bloodthirsty as to wish to kill, or even to injure, 
 ex':ept so far as the necessities of war require. If you wit- 
 nessed the brief conflict you must have ol)served that my 
 effort was to capture rather than to destroy your son's 
 force." 
 
 "We nil (H)uld not help seeing that," cried Miss Lou 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I could not help seeing also. Miss Baron, tliat you ex- 
 posed yourself to danger like a veteran, and I was anxious 
 
THE rNEXPKCTED HAPPENS. 
 
 \-J 
 
 and 
 
 ledg- 
 
 door 
 
 an 
 
 your 
 
 you 
 
 my 
 son's 
 
 Lou 
 
 1 ex- 
 aous 
 
 indeed lest a stray bullet might harm you. Tt was well you 
 were not armed or we might have faretl worse," and there 
 was so much mirth in his dark eyes that she turned away to 
 liide her conscious blushes. 
 
 " Well, sir," resumed Mrs. Whately with emotion, '' it is 
 not easy to bless our enemies in this cruel war of aggression, 
 but I must express my gratitude to one who stayed his hand 
 when my son's life was within his power." 
 
 " I trust, madam, he may live to care for you in your 
 declining years, and to become a good loyal citizen." 
 
 " He is loyal, sir," replied Mrs. Whately with gentle dig- 
 nity, " to the only authority he recognizes," and with a bow 
 she retired. 
 
 Miss Lou lingered a moment and said earnestly, " I thank 
 you. You are very considerate." 
 
 His face so lighted up that it was almost boyish in its 
 expression of pleasure as he answered with the pride and 
 confidence of one sure of sympathy, " This is a jolly day for 
 me. I was made an officer this morning, and now, best of 
 all, I am paying a little of my debt to you." 
 
 She put her finger on her lips and shook her head, but 
 the smile she gave him over her shoulder was reassuring. 
 He promptly started on a round among his men again to 
 see that the prisoners were properly guarded, and that all 
 was going as he wished. 
 
 " Louise," said Mrs. Baron, as the girl appeared in the 
 parlor door, *' it would be far more decorous if you would 
 remain here with your uncle and myself." 
 
 Miss Lou took a seat in the darkest corner that she might 
 be less open to observation while she calmed the tumult of 
 her feelings. So much had happened that she must catch 
 her breath and think what it all meant. Mr. Baron began 
 gloomily, " Well, the dreaded hour which I hoped and 
 prayed never to see has come. We are helpless and in the 
 
 t 
 1 
 
 r 
 
1':;' 
 
 11 
 
 ill 
 
 I 
 
 \\ 
 
 104 
 
 'M//.S.V Lorr* 
 
 hands of our enemies. Only God knows what an hour will 
 bring forth " — 
 
 " He has ])roiight deliverance," cried Mrs. Wluitely, enter- 
 ing. " 1 questioned Ann' Suke, thinking that she might 
 have seen Madison if he left the house. She did see him 
 safe and sound. She also saw him get a horse and ride 
 away." 
 
 '•'Ah, poor boy! how different was his departure from 
 what he had every reason to ho[)e and expect ! " replied Mr. 
 IJaron. ''I should think your heart would be remorseful, 
 indeed, Louise, when you picture your (^ousin flying from 
 his kindred and home, alone and sad, tortured meanwhile 
 by thoughts of the late which has overtaken us." 
 
 " I'm sure, uncle, we are all sitting (piiedy in the jjarlor. 
 That does not seem very dreadful." 
 
 *'You little know, young woman, you little realize the 
 cunning dejjravity " — 
 
 "There now, brother," interposed Mrs. Whately, ''we 
 must not think evil until we see more evidence of it, even 
 in Yankees. T admit that I am most wonderfully and 
 agreeably disa])pointed. The young officer in whose hands 
 we are might have killed my son, but did not. I must at 
 least be just to such a man." 
 
 "And you know he has been polite to us all, and told us 
 to dismiss our fears," added Miss Lou demurely. 
 
 " It would almost seem, Louise, that you welcomed these 
 invaders. I am too old and well informed not to know that 
 this suave manner he affects is designed to lull us into a 
 sense of false security." ^ 
 
 At this moment a firm ste}) was heard on the veranda, 
 followed l)y a rap from the brass knocker. They knew it 
 was Scoville, and Mr. Baron rose and advanced to the parlor 
 entrance. He assumed the solemn aspect of one who now 
 must face the exactions and wrongs which he had predicted, 
 
we 
 
 t, even 
 and 
 hands 
 list at 
 
 I these 
 
 that 
 
 bto a 
 
 mda, 
 
 t\v it 
 
 irlor 
 
 inow 
 
 ted J 
 
 77//1 UNKXPKCTKJ) //A /'J/:.VS, 
 
 105 
 
 and his wife trcml)Hngly followed, to perish at his side if 
 need be. Hut the invader barely stei)[)ed within the liall 
 and stood uncovered as he said j)olitely, " Mr. IJaron, I have 
 now practically made my dispositions for the night. There 
 is no reason why your domestic routine should not be 
 resumed as usual. As 1 said before, 1 jjledge you my word 
 you siiall not be disturbed unless we are attacked, (lood- 
 evening, sir. (lood-evening, ladies," and he bowed and 
 withdrew, leaving the old gentleman s[)eechless in the utter 
 reversal of ah that he had declared would take i)lace. No 
 l)limdering, no insults, no violence. On the contrary, even 
 his beloved routine might be resumed. He turned around 
 to his wife and sister almost gasping, *• Is this some deej)- 
 laidplot?" 
 
 "It certainly must be," echoed his wife. 
 
 Miss Lou turned away (juickly and stuffed her handker- 
 chief in her mouth to prevent laughing outright. 
 
 Her uncle caught her in the act and was instantly in a 
 rage. 
 
 "Shame upon you!" he cried. "Enemies without and 
 traitors within." 
 
 This charge touched the girl to the (juick and she replied 
 with almost equal anger, " I'm no traitor. \\'here has your 
 loyalty to me been to-day? f.ook at me, uncle, and fix the 
 fact in your mind, once for all, that I am neither a child nor 
 an idiot. God has given me a mind and a conscience as 
 truly as to you, and I shall use them. This Northern officer 
 says we are safe. I believe it and you will know it in the 
 morning. Now I simply insist that you and aunt treat me 
 with the respect due to my years and station. I've endured 
 too much to-day to be patient under any thing more. I 
 meant no disrespect to you in laughing, but I cannot help 
 i)eing glad that instead of all sorts of horrible things happen- 
 ing we are treated with simple and even delicate politeness," 
 
 V 
 
i 
 
 10^ 
 
 "M/SS I. Oil.'' 
 
 \ 
 
 II 
 
 !)■:!: 
 
 Ihl 
 
 •\ i .1 
 
 '* Yes, brother," added Mrs. Whately, "as far as this man 
 is concerned, you must revise your ojMnions. There is no 
 deep-laid plot — nothing but what is a])parent. I must also 
 urge upon you and sister a change in your treatment ot' 
 Jvouise. She will l)e t";ir more ready to fulfil our hopes when 
 led by affection." 
 
 " Well, well, that I should live to see this day ! " groaned 
 Mr. r)aron. " My ward \irtually says that she will do as she 
 pleases. The slaves have been told that they are free and 
 so can do as they ])lease. Henceforth I suppose I am to 
 speak to my niece with bated breath, and be at the beck 
 and call of every Sambo on the place." 
 
 "You are not 'weltering in your own blood,' uncle, and 
 the 'roof is not bhi/ing over our heads,' " rei)lied Miss Lou 
 ([uietly. " You have merely been told that you could have 
 supper when it i)leased you and then sleep in peace and 
 safety. Aunt, I will thank }'ou for the key of my trunk. I 
 wish to put my things back in their places." 
 
 Mrs. liaron took it from her pocket without a word, and 
 Miss Lou went to her room. 
 
 True to her nature, Mrs. AVhately began to pour oil on 
 the lacerated feelings of hei brother and sister-in-law. 
 "Louise is right," she said. "Things are so much better 
 than we expected — than they might have been, that we 
 should raise our hearts in thankfulness. Just think ! If this 
 Northern officer is what you fear, why would he have spared 
 my son, whom he might have killed in fair battle ? Li his 
 conduct towards the wounded he showed a good, kindly 
 spirit. I can't deny it ; and he has been as polite to us as 
 one of our own officers could have been. Think how dif- 
 ferent it all might have been — my brave son desperately 
 wounded or dead, and un;j( rnpulous men sacking the house ! 
 I need not refer to darker fears. I must say that I feel like 
 jneeting courtesy with courtesy. Since this Yankee behaves 
 
TlfE ('N'EXrECTKD HArPENS. 
 
 107 
 
 like a generous foe I would like to prove tliat Southern rebels 
 and slave-drivers as we are called, can e{iual him in ;ill liie 
 amenities of life whicli the situation i)ermits." 
 
 "O sister ! " cried Mrs. IJaron, ''even a cup of tea would 
 choke me if I drank it in his jjresencc." 
 
 But Mr. Baron had lighted his i)ipe, and reason and 
 Southern pride were asserting themselves under its soothing 
 influence. At last he said, ''' Well, let us have supper any- 
 way. It is already after the hour." 
 
 "SupjKT has been ready this long time, as you know," 
 replied his wife, "only I never dreamed of such a guest as 
 has been suggested." 
 
 "Of course, sister, I only said what I did as a sugges- 
 tion," Mrs. Whately answered with dignity. " Vou are in 
 your own home. I merely felt reluctant that this Yankee 
 should have a chance to say that we were so rude anil 
 uncivilized that we couldn't appreciate good treatment when 
 we received it. There's no harm in gaining his good will, 
 either, for he said that his general, wnth the main force, 
 would be here to-morrow." 
 
 " Mrs. Baron," said her husband in strong irritation, 
 "don't you see there is nothing left for us to do? No 
 matter how things turn out, the presence of these Yankees 
 involves what is intensely disagreeable. If sister is right in 
 regard to this man — and I suppose I must admit she is till 
 I know him better — he has made it necessary for our own 
 self-respect to treat him with courtesy. Our pride will not 
 permit us to accept this from him and make no return. It 
 may be Yankee cunning which led him to foresee this, for 
 I suppose it is ])leasing to many of the tribe to gain their 
 ends by finesse. Probably if this (hjcsn't secure them, he 
 will try harsher methods. Anyway, as long as he pln\s at 
 the game o( courtesy, we, as sister says, should teach Iiim 
 that we know what the word means. The mischief is that 
 
 %\ 
 
 ■«'i 
 
.11 
 
 ilM 
 
 
 r\ 
 
 III 
 
 li! 
 
 108 
 
 •M//.S.V /.orr* 
 
 you never can know just what a Yankee is scheming for or 
 aiming at." 
 
 " Weil, l)r()ther, supposing your words are trtie, as I do 
 not tinnlv tliey are in tliis instance, it is due to our dignity 
 tiiat wc act like sincere j)e()ple who are above even suspect- 
 ing unworthy motives. We do not compromise ourselves in 
 the matter. We only meet courtesy with courtesy, like 
 well-bred people." 
 
 '' Well, so be it then. In fact, I would like to ask this 
 man what he and those he represents can hope to gain by 
 invasion equalled only by that of the (loths and Vandals." 
 
 U\ 
 
 'i'l'i ' 
 
 lii 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
// rilRKAT, 
 
 109 
 
 CHAITER XIV. 
 
 A TIIRliAT. 
 
 THE moment Chunk believed that Scovillc could dispense 
 with his services for a time he made his way ])rom])tiy 
 to the back veranda and gave a low, peculiar whistle whicli 
 Zany recognized. He iiad ceased in her estimation to be 
 merely a subject for infmite jest. Though not very advanced 
 in the scale of civilization, she was influenced by ([ualities 
 wliich appealed to her mind, and possessed many traits com- 
 mon to her sex. His shrewdness and courage were making 
 good his lack of inches. Above all, he was in favor with 
 the " head Linkum man," and Zany belonged to that class 
 ever ready to greet the rising sun. VVHiile all this was true, 
 she could not be herself and abandon her co([uettish im- 
 pulses and disposition to tease. She came slowly from the 
 dining-room and looked over Chunk's head as if she could 
 not see him. Bent on retaliation, he stepped behind her, 
 lifted her in his powerful arms and carried her on a full run 
 to some screening shrubbery, the irate captive cuffing his ear 
 soundly all the way. Setting her down, he n.'marked (juietly, 
 " Now I reckon you kin fin' me." 
 
 "Yo' wool git gray 'fo' you fin' me agin," she replied, 
 making a feint of starting for the house. 
 
 " Berry well, Miss Zany. I see you (loan want ter be a 
 free gyurl. Fse tell Marse Scoville you no 'count niggah." 
 
 "Wat you want aiiyhow, imperdence?" 
 
 " I wants sump'n ter eat. Does you 'spects I kin ride all 
 
 A\ 
 
M !' 
 
 il I 
 
 ■1 I 
 
 iilli 
 
 ,i 
 
 i ^ll! 
 
 i 
 
 1 ;l 
 f, I 
 
 if 
 
 ii;- 
 
 I lO 
 
 'M/AS-.V /.c>^v 
 
 iiii^lil en all (lay tcr l)rung you freedom, on den nul ehen git 
 a good word? You ain' fit fer freedom. I'se tell some 
 naehel-bawn tool ter gib you a yaller rib'on en tlen dere be 
 two ob you." 
 
 '• La now, Chunk," she replied, coming back, " ef I wuz 
 lookin' fer a fool I des stay right yere. Ef you git a pa'r ob 
 steps en look in my face you'd see I'se bettah fren' ter you 
 ner you ter me. You stay yere en T brings }-ou w'at you 
 tink a heap on mor'n me," and now she darted away with 
 intentions satisfactory to her strategic admirer. 
 
 Chunk grinned and solilo(iuized, " Reck'n I kin fotch dat 
 gyurl roun' wid all her contrariations. I des likes her skit-' 
 tishness, but I ain' tellin' her so, kaze I gwine ter hab my 
 ban's full as 'tis." 
 
 Zany soon returned with a plate well heaped, for at this 
 time her argus-eyed mistress was sitting in the parlor, await- 
 ing whatever fate the ruthless Yankees might impose. Chunk 
 sat Turk-fashion on the ground and fell to as if famished, 
 meanwhile listening eagerly to the girl's account of what had 
 happened during his absence. 
 
 " Hi I " said Zany disdainfully, " you'd mek lub ter Ann' 
 Suke ef she fed you." 
 
 " I kin mek mo'n lub," Chunk answered, nodding at her 
 l)ortentously ; " I kin mek mischief." 
 
 " Reck'n you do dat anyhow." 
 
 " See yere. Zany, does you tink Marse Scoville a fool? " 
 
 "Ob co'se not." 
 
 " Well, he doan tink me a fool. Whose 'pinion's wuth 
 de mos' ? Who took keer on 'im ? Who got 'im off safe 
 right un'er de nose ob one ob Mad Whately's sogers? 
 Who brung 'im back des in time ter stop dat ar mar'age en 
 gib we uns freedom ? You mighty peart, but you got a heap 
 ter larn 'fo' you cut yo' eye-tooths." 
 
 '• Souv; folks gits dere eye-tooths en doan git nuthin' wid 
 
.i THRKAT. 
 
 II r 
 
 'em," /any remarked nonchalantly. '* V'-><i 'mit dough dat 
 you comin' on, Chunk. Wtw you gits growed up you'se be 
 right smart." 
 
 " I (loan min' de foolishness ob yo' talk, Zany,'" Cliunk 
 replied coolly, between his huge mcuthtuls. " Hat's in you, 
 en you kyant he'p hit any mo'n a crow cawin'. I'se aluh 
 mek 'lowance fer dat. I des 'proves dis 'casion ter 'zort you 
 ter be keerful w'at you does. I'ere'^ gwine ter be mighty 
 ticklish times — sorter flash-bang times, yer know. I'se a 
 free man — des ez free as air, en I'se hired mvsef ter Marse 
 Scoville ter wait on 'im. I'se growed uj) annff ter know lie 
 kin tek de shine off eny man I eber see, or you neider. He 
 yo' boss now well ez mine. I'se gib 'im a good rerport on 
 you ef I kin. I'se feard, howsomeber, dat he say you out- 
 growed yo' sense." 
 
 " Dar now, Chunk, you pu-tin' on mo' airs dan Marse 
 Scoville hissef. He des ez perlite ter marster en olc miss e/ 
 ef he come ter pay his 'spects ter dem en he look at Miss 
 Lou ez a cat do at cream." 
 
 "Hi ! dat so? ^o won'er he want ter git ahaid ob de 
 parson en dat weddin' business." 
 
 " Oh, yo' orful growed up en ain' fin' dat out? " 
 
 " I 'spicioned it. Well, de ting fer you'n me is ter he'p 
 'im." 
 
 " La, now," replied Zany, proposing to give a broad hint 
 at the same time, " I ain' gwine ter he'p no man m sech 
 doin's. De cream neber goe: ter de cat." 
 
 " Yere, tek de plate. Zany, wid my tanks," said Chunk, 
 rising. " Sech cream ez you gits orfid sour ef de cat doan 
 fin' it sud'n. I'se took my 'zert now," and he caught her 
 up again and kissed her on the way l)ack to the veranda. 
 
 This time his performances were seen by Ann' Suke, who 
 stood in the kitchen door. She snatched up a pail of water, 
 exclain-'ing, " I cool you uns off, I sut'n) will. Sech goin's 
 
 % ti 
 
 %\ 
 
 
! ■ t 
 
 I 
 
 1l : I 
 
 4 
 
 ■iiMl 
 
 lii 
 
 ji!:ii::i;| : 
 
 
 Hi 
 
 i ;1 
 
 ;': i i 
 
 I I 
 i s 
 
 t i 
 
 1 12 
 
 "j/As-.v /c^/;" 
 
 on ! " But they were too (juick for her. Zany pretended to 
 be as irate as she was secretly pleased, while Chunk caused 
 the old woman to boil over with rage by declaring, " Aun' 
 Suke, I sen' a soger yere ter hab you 'rested for '/orderly 
 conduct." 
 
 "Ef you eber comes ter dis kitchen agin I'se emty de 
 pot ob bilin' water on you," cried Aun' Sake, retreating to 
 her domain. 
 
 " Ef you does, you get yosef ober haid en years in hot 
 water," Chunk answered with exasperating sangfroid. " You 
 niggahs gwine ter fin' out who's who on dis plantashun 'fo' yo' 
 nex' birthday." 
 
 Zany's only response was a grimace, imd he next carried 
 his exaggerated sense of importance to his granny's cabin. 
 He had seen Aun' Jinkey and spoken a few reassuring words 
 as he passed with Scoville's attacking force. Since that time 
 she had done a power of " projeckin' " over her corncob pipe, 
 but events were now hurrying towards conclusions beyond 
 her ken. It has already been observed that Aun' Jinkey 
 was a neutral power. As yet, the weight of her decision 
 had been cast neither for the North nor the South, while the 
 (juestion of freedom remained to be smoked over indefinitely. 
 There was no indecision in her mind, however, in regard to 
 her young mistress, and greater even than her fears when she 
 heard the sounds of conflict was her solicitude over th." pos- 
 sibility of a forced marriage. Since she was under the im- 
 pression that her cabin might soon become again the refuge 
 of one or the other of the contending powers, possibly of 
 Miss Lou herself, she left the door ajar and was on the alert. 
 
 ''Hi dar ! granny," cried Chunk, the first to appear, ''dat's 
 right. Now you kin smoke in peace, fer you own yosef. 
 Nobody come bossin' you yere any mo'." 
 
 " Doan you git so bumptious all ter oncet," said Aun' Jinkey. 
 " Does you 'spect de hull top's gwine ter be tu'ned right obei 
 
^ TrfRLwlT. 
 
 113 
 
 Landed to 
 V caused 
 r, " Ann' 
 'zorderly 
 
 emty de 
 mating to 
 
 :s in hot 
 i. "You 
 n 'fo' yo' 
 
 t carried 
 
 's cabin. 
 
 ng words 
 
 ithat time 
 
 20b pipe, 
 
 beyond 
 
 Jinkey 
 
 lecision 
 
 hile the 
 
 ^finitely. 
 
 ;gard to 
 
 hen she 
 
 Ll:.' pos- 
 
 Ithe im- 
 
 refuge 
 
 [sibly of 
 
 le aiert. 
 
 "dat's 
 
 yosef. 
 
 [inkey. 
 ht ober 
 
 down'erds in er day ? But dar ! you ain' no 'sper'encc. Yo' 
 stomack emty en yo' haid hght. Draw up now en tell me 
 de news. Tell me sud'n 'bout Miss Lou. Did dey git her 
 mar'd?" 
 
 " Yah ! yah ! Marse Scoville's so'd ud cut de knot ef dey 
 had." 
 
 " Dat's des ez much ez you knows. All de • so'ds eber 
 flash kyant cut dat ar knot 'less dey kill Marse Whately." 
 
 " Dat 'min's me ob someting ter'ble quar. Marse ScoviPe 
 had he so'd pintin' right agin Mad Whately's neck en yit he 
 ain' jab 'im. Dat same Mad Whately gwine ter mek a 
 heap ob troul^le fer he got clean off." 
 
 ." Marse Scoville know dat ef he kill a man right straight 
 wid he own han' he spook come and mek a heap mo' 
 trouble." 
 
 " Hi ! didn't tink o' dat." 
 
 " Bettah tink right smart, Chunk. You'se gittin' top- 
 heaby ef you is sho't. Now tell me all 'bout de mar'age." 
 
 *' Dey ain' no mar'age. Zany tole me how Miss Lou say 
 she ain' neber 'sent, en den 'fo' dey could say dere lingo ober 
 her en mar'y her des ez-dey would a bale ob cotton, up 
 rides Marse Scoville en put his so'd troo ebry ting. He tells 
 us we all free en " — 
 
 " En eat yo' supper. I ain' done projeckin' 'bout dis 
 freedom business. How we uns gwine ter be free 'less Marse 
 Scoville stay yere en kep us free?" 
 
 " Zany guv me n^y supper en " — 
 
 " Dar now, I ain' no mo' 'count. Zany robble you aready. 
 I des stick ter my chimbly corner." 
 
 " Howdy, Aunt Jinkey," cried Scoville, coming in briskly. 
 " Well, you see I'm back again as I promised." 
 
 " You welcome, a hun'erd times welcome, kaze you kep 
 my young mistis fum bein' mar'ed right slap 'gin her own 
 feelin's ter her cousin." 
 F 
 
 
 1 
 
 ''1 
 
 
1 1 
 
 iil 
 
 i 
 
 ^1' 
 
 ■""1 
 
 114 
 
 "J/AV.V LOU.'' 
 
 I ! 
 
 ill 
 
 ,1 i' 1 
 
 ri 
 
 i ! 
 
 " Pshaw I Aunt Jinkcy. No one can marry u girl against 
 her will in this country." 
 
 '* Datdcs lie ([uestion iSfiss Lou en me projeckin' 'bout (lis 
 berry mawnin'. She gyanleens went straight along e/ ef (ley 
 luul (le po'r, dey sut'ny did. Dat's w'at so upset Miss Lou 
 en me. l)e jjo'r ob gyardeens is sump'n I kyant smoke out 
 straight, en' I des lak ter know how mucli dey kin do. Ole 
 mars'r al'ays manage her i)roi)'ty en we wuz flustrated w'en 
 we see 'im en Mad Wliately en he moder en (jIc miss en all 
 gittin' ready fer de weddin' des e/ ef hit was comin' like 
 sun-up sho." 
 
 " It was a shame," cried Scoville angrily. '' They were 
 seeking to drive her into submission l)y strong, steady 
 pressure, but if she insisted on her right" — 
 
 *' Dat des w'at she did, Marse Scoville. She say she 
 neber 'sent, ncbcr,''' Chunk interrupted. 
 
 " Then the whole Southern Confederacy could not have 
 married her and she ought to knov^ it," 
 
 " Well, you mus' be 'siderate, Marse Scoville. Miss Lou 
 know a heap 'bout some tings en she des a chile 'bout oder 
 tiiigs. Ole mars'r en misus al'ays try ter mek her tink dat 
 only w'at dey say is right en nuthin' else, en dey al'ays 'low 
 ter her dat she gvvine ter mar'y hei cousin some day, en she 
 al'ays 'low ter me she doan wanter." 
 
 '* Poor child ! she does need a friend in very truth. 
 What kind of a man is this Mad Whately anyway, that he 
 could think of taking part in such a wrong? " 
 
 " He de same kin' ob man dat he wuz a boy," Chunk 
 answered. " Den he kick en howl till he git w'at he 
 want. 'Sense me, Marse Scoville, but I kyant hep tinkin' 
 you mek big 'stake dat you didn't jab 'im w'en you hab de 
 chance." 
 
 '* Chunk," was the grave answer, " if you are going to 
 wait on me you must learn my ways. I'd no more kill a 
 
1 against 
 
 'bout (lis 
 ez ef cley 
 Jiss Lou 
 iioke out 
 do. Ole 
 ,ted w'eii 
 iss en all 
 min' like 
 
 hey were 
 g, steady 
 
 : say she 
 
 not have 
 
 Miss Lou 
 lOut oder 
 tink dat 
 I'ays 'low 
 y, en she 
 
 ^ry truth. 
 I, that he 
 
 ," Chunk 
 w'at he 
 ^p tinkin' 
 h hab de 
 
 going to 
 )re kill a 
 
 // Tlfh'l'.A T. 
 
 I I 
 
 man when it was not essentia] than I would kill yuu this 
 minute. Soldiers are not butcliers." 
 
 '* Granny sez how you wu/. feared on his spook " — 
 
 " Bah I you expect to be free, yet remain slaves to such 
 fears? My horse knows better. Come, Aunt Jinkey, \\\ 
 rather you would give me some su[)])er than your views on 
 spooks." 
 
 " Leftenant," said Perkins, the overseer, from the door, 
 " Mr. Baron pr'sents his compliments en gives you a invite 
 to supper." 
 
 Scoville thought a moment, then answered, *' Present 
 mine in return, and say it will give me pleasure to ac- 
 cept." 
 
 " Bress de Lawd ! you gwine ter de big house. Not d:;t 
 I 'grudges cookin' fer you w'eneber you come, but I des 
 wants you ter took* a 'tunerty ter advise dat po' chile 'bout 
 she rights en de mar'age ([uestion." 
 
 After assuring himself that the overseer was out of earshot, 
 Scoville said almost sternly, "Aunt Jinkey, you and Chunk 
 must not say one word of my ever having been here before. 
 It might make your young mistress a great deal of trouble, 
 and I should be sorry indeed if I ever caused her any 
 trouble whatever." Then as he made his way to the man- 
 sion he smilingly soliloquized, " I don't know of any other 
 question concerning which I would rather give her advice, 
 nor would it be wholly disinterested, T fear, if I had a 
 chance. At this time to-morrow," he sighingly concluded, 
 •' I may be miles away or dead. Poor unsophisticated 
 child ! I never was touched so close before as now by her 
 need of a friend who cares more for her than his own 
 schemes. ' 
 
 Chunk following at a respectful distance became aware 
 that the overseer was glowering at him. " Bettah 'lebe yo' 
 min', Marse Perkins," he remarked condescendingly. 
 
 w 
 
 
 t'i* 
 
I 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 t ! I 
 
 'III! 
 
 I,! 
 
 I ,i 
 
 ^ :^ 
 
 ii6 
 
 'M/Z^.S" LOC\" 
 
 " You infernal, horse-stealing nigger ! *' was the low re- 
 sponse. 
 
 " Hi ! Marse Perkins, you kin growl, but you mu/zled 
 all tie same." / 
 
 "The muzzle may be off before many mo' sunsets, en 
 then you'll find my teeth in your throat," said the man under 
 his breath, and'his look was so dark and vindictive that even 
 in his elation Chunk became uneasy. 
 
 ^-- 
 
MJSS LOU EMANCIPATED. 
 
 117 
 
 : low re- 
 muzzloLl 
 
 insets, en 
 lan under 
 that even 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MISS \X)\) EMANCIPATED. 
 
 N^^ATURE liad endowed Scoville willi a quick, active 
 mind, and circumstances hail developed its power 
 and capacity to a degree scarcely A/arranted by his age. 
 (Jrphaned early in life, compelled to hold his own among 
 comi)arative strangers since childhood, he had gained a 
 worldly wisdom and self-reliance which he could not have 
 acquired in a sheltered home. He had learned to look at 
 facts and people squarely, to estimate values and character 
 l)romptly and then to decide upon his own action unhesi- 
 tatingly. Although never regarded as the model good boy 
 at the boarding-schools wherein he had spent most of his 
 life, he had been a general favorite with both teachers and 
 scholars. A certain frankness in mischief and buoyancy of 
 spirit had carried him through all difficulties, while his apt 
 mind and retentive memory always kept him near to the 
 head of his classes. The quality of alertness was one of 
 his characteristics. In schools and at the university he 
 quickly mastered their small politics and prevailing tenden- 
 cies, and he often amused his fellow-pupils with free-handed 
 yet fairly truthful sketches of their instructors. As the 
 country passed into deeper and stronger excitement over 
 the prospect of secession and its consequences, he was 
 among the first to catch the military spirit and to take an 
 active part in the formation of a little company among the 
 students. It was not his disposition to be excited merely 
 
 
 s'^ni 
 
 bi tj 
 
TiS 
 
 'M/As-.v r.oirr 
 
 ' 
 
 :|i 
 
 l'U> 
 
 PI 
 
 •iJli I \\\ lit' 
 
 ■Hill itp 
 
 fti 
 
 
 ' Mil 
 
 !(! 
 
 because ollicis were. Certain (jualities of niiiid led liiiii to 
 look beneatli tlie .siirlaee for the causes of national commo- 
 tion. Wi read carefully the utterances of leaders, North 
 and South, and to some extent traced back their views and 
 animating s])irit to historical sources. 
 
 In the year of '63 he found to his joy that he had attained 
 such ])hysical proportions as would secure his acceptance in 
 a cavalry regiment forming in his vicinity. His uncle, who 
 was also guardian, for reasons already known, made slight 
 op])osition, and he at once donned the blue with its buff 
 trimmings. In camp and field he (juickly learned the rou- 
 tine of duly, and then his daring, active temperament led 
 him gradually into the scouting service. Now, although so 
 young, he was a \ eteran in experience, frank to friends, but 
 secretive and ready to deceive the very elect among his 
 enemies. i''ew could take more risks than he, yet he had 
 not a particle of Mad Whately's recklessness. Courage, but 
 rarely impulse, controlled his action. As we have seen, he 
 could instantly stay his hand the second a deadly enemy, 
 seeking his life in personal encounter, was disarmed. 
 
 The prosi)ect of talking with such a host as Mr. Baron 
 pleased him inmiensely. He scarcely knew to whom he 
 was indebted for the courtesy, but rightly surmised that it 
 was Mrs. AVhately, since she, with good reason, felt under 
 obligations to him. Even more than an adventurous scout- 
 ing expedition he relished a situation full of humor, and 
 such his presence at Mr. Baron's supper-table promised to 
 be. He knew his entertainment would be gall and worm- 
 wood to the old Bourbon and his wife, and that the courtesy 
 had been wrung from them by his own forbearance. It 
 might be his only opportunity to see Miss Lou and suggest 
 the liberty he had brought to her as well as to the slav^es. 
 
 Mrs. Whately met him on the veranda and said politely, 
 " Lieutenant Scoville, you have proved yourself to be a 
 
 ! ii i 
 ti I i 
 
 ^:*ti 
 
.iz/.s-.v i.oi' i:MAX('fPAi'i:i). 
 
 [I9 
 
 1 him to 
 
 < omnio- 
 
 ■s, North 
 
 icws and 
 
 , attained 
 stance in 
 icle, who 
 de sHght 
 I its buff 
 
 the rou- 
 ment led 
 hough so 
 ends, but 
 mong his 
 t he had 
 rage, but 
 
 seen, he 
 y enemy, 
 
 r. Baron 
 horn he 
 I that it 
 t under 
 us scout- 
 nor, and 
 iiised to 
 d worm- 
 courtesy 
 nee. It 
 suggest 
 aves. 
 politely, 
 to be a 
 
 generous and forbearing enemy. If you leel *hal yoii < in 
 meet frank enemies who wish to return courtesy with cour- 
 tesy, we shall be glad to have you take su[)per with us." 
 
 "Yes," added Mr. Haron, " my sister has convinced me, 
 somewhat against my will, 1 must in honesty admit, that 
 such hospitality as we can offer under the circumstances is 
 your due." 
 
 " I ai)preciate the circumstances, Mr. l^aron," was the 
 grave reply, "and honor the Southern trait which is so strong 
 that even I can receive the benefit of it. Your courtesy, 
 madam, will put me at ease." 
 
 Miss Lou, thinking it possible that she might see the 
 Northern officer again, had taken her own way of convincing 
 him that he was still within the bounds of civilization, for she 
 made a toilet more careful than the one with which she had 
 deigned to grace the ai)pointed day of her wedding. She 
 could scarcely believe her eyes when, entering the supper 
 room a little late, she saw Scoville already seated at the 
 table. He instantly rose and made her a ceremonious bow, 
 thus again indicating that their past relations should be 
 completely ignored in the presence of others. She there- 
 fore gravely returned his salutation and took her place with- 
 out a word, but her high color did not -"^uggest indifference 
 to the situation. Mr. Baron went througi. the formal "grace " 
 as usual and then said, " Ahem ! you will admit, sir, that 
 it is a little embarrassing to know just how to entertain one 
 with whom we have some slight difference of opinion." 
 
 " Perhaps such embarrassment will be removed if we aH 
 speak our minds freely," replied Scoville, pleasantly. 
 " Pardon the suggestion, but the occasion appears to me 
 favorable to a frank and interesting exchange of views. If 
 my way of thinking were wholly in accord with yours ray 
 words could be little better than echoes. T should be glad 
 to feel that my presence was no restraint whatever." 
 
 Ill 
 
 C.I 
 
 V 
 
I20 
 
 "M/SS LOU,'' 
 
 \\\ 
 
 \ iii 
 
 
 ■'stiin 
 
 il!;i "l!,f 
 
 
 II I'l i:!f 
 
 t 'I 
 
 " I'm inclined to think you arc ri^ht, sir," aildctl Mrs. 
 Wliatcly. *' It would he ni(.'rc alTcctation on our part to 
 disguise our thoughts and feelings. With neighbors, and 
 even with friends, we are often (:()nii)elled to do this, but 1 
 scarcely see why we should do so with an open enemy." 
 
 '■'■ And such I trust you will find me, madam, an open 
 enemy in the better sense of the adjective. As far as I can, 
 I will answer (juestions if you wish to ask any. I will tell 
 you honestly all the harm I meditate and outline clearl}' the 
 extent of my hostility, if you will do the same," and he 
 smiled so genially that she iialf smiled also as she answered : 
 
 "'lb hear you, sir, one would scarcely imagine you to be 
 an enemy at all. JUit tlien we know better." 
 
 " Yes, sir, pardon me, we do," said Mr. IJaron, a little 
 stiffly. " For one, I would like your honest statement of 
 just what harm you and your conmiand meditate. I am one 
 who would rather face and prepare for whatever I shall be 
 compelled to meet." 
 
 " I think, sir, you have already met and fliced the direst 
 event of the evening — my ])resence at your hospitable 
 board. Even this hardship is due to your courtesy, not to 
 my compulsion." 
 
 Miss Lou bowed low over her plate at this speech. 
 
 " But how about the long hours of the night, sir? Have 
 you such control over your men " — 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " interru})ted Scoville with dignity, " The men 
 I have with me are soldiers, not camp-followers. They 
 would no more harm you or any thing you possess, without 
 orders, than I would." 
 
 "Without orders — a clause of large latitude. As far as 
 wordb go you have already robbed me of the greater part of 
 my possessions. Yo\i have told my slaves that they are 
 free." 
 . " Not npon my own resi)onsibility, sir, although with 
 
 . ■ I! 
 
J//.S'.V l.OC EMAXC/r.lTElX 
 
 121 
 
 men 
 They 
 Ihoiit 
 
 lir as 
 
 rtof 
 are 
 
 Lvitli 
 
 hearty goixl-will. Tii my humhlc station I am far more 
 often called ni)on to obey orders than to give them. \'<)U 
 are aware of JYesident Lincoln's proclamation?" 
 
 '* Yes, sir, and of the Pope's bull against the comet." 
 
 Scoville laughed so genially as partially to disarm his re- 
 ])ly of its sting. " In this instance, sir, our armies are rather 
 gaining on the comet." 
 
 '* IJutwhat can you and your armies hope to accomplish?" 
 iMrs. Whately asked. " If you should destroy every South- 
 ern man, the women would remain unsulxlued." 
 
 '' Now, madam, you have me at disadvantage. I do not 
 know what we would or could do if confronted only by im- 
 placable Southern women." 
 
 " Do not imagine that I am jesting. I cannot tell you 
 how strange it seems that a man of your api)earance ami 
 evident character should be among our cruel enemies." 
 
 " And yet, Mrs. ^\'hately, you cannot dispute the fact. 
 Pardon me for saying it, but I think that is just where the 
 South is in svicli serious error. It shuts its eyes to so many 
 simple facts — a course which experience proves is never 
 wise. I may declare, and even l)clieve, that there is no solid 
 wall before me, yet if I go headlong against it, I am bruised 
 all the same. Positive beliefs do not create truths. I fancy 
 that a few hours since you were absolutely sure that tliis 
 courtesy of which I am the grateful recipient could not be, 
 }et you were mistaken." 
 
 *' Has not the sad experience of many others inspired our 
 fears? Neither has the end come with us yet. You said 
 that the main Northern force would come this way to- 
 morrow. We do not fear you and those whom you control, 
 but how about those who are to come? " 
 
 " I can speak only for the class to v/hich I belong — the 
 genuine soldiers who are animated by as single and unfalter- 
 ing a spirit as the best in your armies. If a Confederate 
 
12^ 
 
 ".1//.S-.V fOl 
 
 ' •♦ 
 
 l) I 
 
 11 
 
 'I 
 
 lill 
 
 hi 
 
 ; i;iii 
 
 1 1 
 
 coluinn were y^o'm\i, thnm^'h tin- Nortli yon rould not an<i\v«M' 
 for the ( oiuluct of cvory lawless, depraved man in snrh a 
 force. Still, I admit with you that war is essentially cruel, 
 and that the aim ever must be to inllicl as mu( h injury as 
 possible on one's adversaries." 
 
 " Hut how can you take part in such a war? " Mrs. Whately 
 asked. *' All wc asked was to be let alone." 
 
 " Ves, sir," added Mr. liaron, "how can you justify these 
 ruthless invasions, this l)reakin[,' u|) of our ilomestic institu- 
 tions, this <lesi)oilin^ of our proi)erty and rights by force?" 
 and there was a tremor of supi)ressed excitement in his 
 voi<e. , 
 
 Scoville glanced at Miss Lou to see how far she sympa- 
 thized witli her kindred, lie observed tliat her f^ice was 
 somewhat stern in its expression, yet full of intelligent inter- 
 est. It was not the index of mere prejudi( e and hate. 
 "Yes," he thought, "she is capable of giving nie a fair hear- 
 ing ; the others are not. Mr. Haron," he said, " your views 
 are natural, perhaps, if not just. I know it is asking much 
 of human nature when you are suffering and must suffer so 
 much, to form what will become the historical judgment on 
 the questions at issue. li;e law under vvhicli the North is 
 fighting is the supreme one —that of self-preservation. ICven 
 if we had let you alone — permittecl you to separate and be- 
 come independent without a blow, war would have come 
 soon. Vou would not and could not ha\e let us alone. 
 Consider but one i)()int : your slaves would merely have to 
 pass the long boundary line stretching nearly across the con- 
 tinent, in order to be on free soil. You could comj:)el their 
 return only by conquering and almost annihilating the North. 
 \'ou will say that wc should think as you do on the subject, 
 and I must answer that it is ever)- man and woman's right to 
 think according to individual conscience, according to tlic 
 light within. Deny this right, and you i)ut no bounds to 
 
J/AV.V tor r.AfAAT//\i77:/\ 
 
 123 
 
 liiiiii 111 slavery. Pardon mc, but looking; in yonr eyes and 
 llitisc of these ladies, I tun sec that I should beconu' a slave 
 iiHtantly if yon had your way. l^nconseiously and inevitably 
 you would make me one, for it is your strongest impulse lo 
 make me agree with you, to see things exactly as you do. 
 The fact that you sincerely believe you are right would maki* 
 110 'iifference if I just as sincerely believed you were wrong. 
 1 1 I could not think and act for myself 1 would be a sla\e. 
 \ ou might .say, * We /ifioio we are right, that what we be- 
 lieve has the Divine sanction.' That is what the tormentors 
 of the Inquisition said and believed ; that is what my Puri- 
 tan and persecuting forefadiers said and believed ; what does 
 history say now? The world is growing wise enough to 
 understand that (jod has no slaves. He endows men and 
 women with a conscience. The supreme obligation is to be 
 true to this. When any one who has passed the bounds of 
 childhood says to us, * I don't think this is right,' we take an 
 awful responsibility, we probably are guilty of usurpation, if 
 we substitute our will for his. In our sincerity we may argue, 
 reason and entreat, but in the presence of another's con- 
 science unconvinced and utterly opposed to us, where is 
 human slavery to end if one man, or a vast number of men, 
 have the power to say, * You shall ' ? " 
 
 Scoville had kept his eyes fixed on Mr. IJaron, and saw 
 that he was almost writhing under the expression of \iews 
 so repugnant to him — views which proved his whole scheme 
 of life and action to be wrong. Now the young man turned 
 his glance suddenly on Miss Lou, and 'n her high ^olor. 
 parted lips and kindled eyes, saw abundant proof that she, 
 as he had wished, was taking to herself the deep personal 
 apphcation of his words. Her guardians and Mrs. Whately 
 observed this truth also, and now bitterly regretted that they 
 had invited the Union officer. It seemed to them a sort of 
 malign fate that he had been led, unconsciously as they 
 
 .',:f'4j 
 
 i|:| 
 
 
 
 •^m(1 
 
 I n 
 
 I 1% 
 
 it 
 
 
 

 Ilii 
 
 ^i ,::'ii.' 
 
 'm 
 
 1 11-^ I 
 
 124 
 
 "J/A9.S' Lor'." 
 
 supposed, to i)ronounce in the presence of the girl such 
 vigorous condemnation of their action. Mad they not that 
 very day sought to over-ride the will, the conscience, the 
 whole shrinking, protesting womanhood of the one who had 
 listened so eagerly as the wrong meditated against her was 
 explained? Scoville had not left them even the excuse that 
 they believed they were right, having shown the girl that so 
 many who believed this were wrong. Miss Lou's expression 
 made at least one thing clear — she was emancipated and 
 had taken her destiny into her own hands. 
 
 JMrs. Whately felt that she must turn the tables at once, 
 and so remarked, " It seems to me that the whole force of 
 your argument tells against the North. You are bent upon' 
 conquering the South and making it think as you do." 
 
 " Oh, no. Here the law of self-preservation comes in. 
 If the South can secede, so can the East and the West. 
 New York City can secede from the State. We should have 
 no countr). There could be no national life. Would Eng- 
 land accept the doctrine of secession, and permit any part 
 of her dominions to set up for themselves when they chose ? 
 I know you are about to say that is just what our fathers 
 did. Yes, but old mother England did not say, ' Go, my 
 children, God bless you ! ' Nor would she say it now to 
 any other region over which floats her flag. Of course, if 
 you whip us, we shall have to submit, just as England did. 
 A\'hat government has helplessly sucked its thumbs when 
 certain portions of the territory over which it had jurisdic- 
 tion i^efied its power? We are called Goths and Vandals, 
 l)ut that is absurd. We are not seeking to conquer the 
 South in any such old-world ways. We are fighting that 
 the old flag may be as supreme here as in New England, 
 The moment this is true you will be as free as are the 
 people of New England. The same constitution and laws 
 will govern all." 
 
jV/SS LOU EMANCr FATED, 
 
 125 
 
 " And can you imagine for a moment, sir," cried Mr. 
 Baron, " tiiat we will submit to a government that would be 
 acceptable to New England?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and years hence, when the South has become 
 as loyal as New England is now, if that abode of the 
 Yankees should seek independence of the rest of the coun- 
 try she would be brought back under the flag. I would fight 
 New England as readily as I do the South, if she sought to 
 l)reak up the Union. I would fight her if every man, woman 
 and child within her borders believed themselves right." 
 
 Now he saw Miss Lou looking perplexed. Her quick 
 mind detected the spirit of coercion, of substituting wills, 
 against which he had been inveighing and from which she 
 had suffered. Mrs. Whately was quick to see the apparent 
 weakness in his argument, for she said, " Consistency is a 
 jewel which I suppose is little cared for by those so ready to 
 appeal to force. With one breath you say we must not 
 coerce the wills of others, and now you say you would, even 
 though you did violence to universal and sacred beliefs." 
 
 " I say only that the nation niiist do this as must the indi- 
 vidual. Some one might say to me, * I honestly think I 
 should take off your right arm.' I would not permit it if 
 I could help it. No more can a nation submit passively to 
 dismemberment. Tho South did not expect that this nation 
 would do so. It promptly prepared for war. If the North 
 had said, ' We can do nothing, there's a blank, write out 
 your terms and we'll sign,' we would have been more 
 thoroughly despised than we were, if that were possible. 
 There are two kinds of coercion. For instance, I do not 
 say to you, Mrs. V/hately, representing the South, that you 
 must think and feel as I do and take just such steps as I 
 dictate ; but that there are things which you must refrain 
 from doing, because in their performance, no matter how 
 sincere you were, you would inflict great and far-reaching 
 
 
 %: ; 
 
 i'i; 
 
 'hi 
 
 Jk 
 
I 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 
 
 i 
 
 ill 
 i' 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 :i 
 
 ,! il 
 
 '1 i 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 ;, 
 
 li 
 
 |! 
 
 i 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 ■ '' 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ; 
 
 i 
 
 
 1 i 
 
 
 
 ll ; 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 
 ' I. . 
 
 L ( 1 1 
 
 .' r 
 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 
 
 'i ' 
 
 ii 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 i *l 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 .1 
 
 i; 
 
 
 
 
 1. 
 
 t 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 , I 
 
 1 
 
 ! lijl 
 
 I 
 
 
 ; 
 
 
 
 
 ■ ' • \''"' 
 
 I'':' 
 
 ;'( i 
 
 
 
 j 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 '■''\ 
 
 126 
 
 ''M/SS L0(/." 
 
 wrong on others. There could be no government without re- 
 striction. We would soon have anarchy if any part of a nation 
 should and could withdraw when it chose and how it pleased.'" 
 
 " Your doctrine, sir, would banish freedom from the world. 
 All peoples would have to submit to the central tyranny" 
 called government, even though such government had be- 
 come hateful." 
 
 "This doctrine, which all governments act upon," replied 
 Scoville pleasantly, " has not banished freedom from the 
 world. In this country, where every man has a voice, the 
 government will be just about as good as the majority deter- 
 mine it shall be." 
 
 '' Well, sir, to sum up the whole matter," said Mr. Baron 
 coldly, " two things are clear : First, the South is determined 
 to be free ; second, if we fail we can be held only under the 
 heel of your Northern majority as Poland is trodden upon." 
 
 Scoville saw that the discussion had gone far enough for 
 his purposes, and he said with a good-natured laugh, " I'm 
 neither a prophet nor his son, but I think it is a very hope- 
 ful sign that we could have this frank interchange of views 
 and belief. I see how perfecdy sincere you are, and if I 
 had been brought up here no doubt I should think and act 
 as you do. As it is, I am only a very humble representative 
 of the Government which is trying to preserve its own exist- 
 ence — a Government which the South helped to form as 
 truly as the North. If I should come directly to your side, 
 contrary to belief and conscience, you would be the first to 
 despise me. I suppose we will all agree that we should 
 obey the supreme dictates of conscience?" 
 
 *' No, sir," burst out Mr. Baron, '* I cannot agree to any 
 thing of the kind. There are multitudes who must be 
 guided and controlled by those who are wiser, older and 
 more experienced. Why, sir, you would have the very 
 nursery children in flat rebellion." 
 
A//SS LOU EM.lXC/rATED. 
 
 i-V 
 
 "Indeed, Mr. Baruii, I have not said one word against 
 the authority of parents and guar(Hans." 
 
 " Ah ! I am glad you draw the Hne somewhere. Half 
 the misery in the world results from young people's thinking 
 themselves wiser than their natural advisers. If they can 
 merely say their consciences are against what their elders 
 know is right and best, we have anarchy in the fountain- 
 head of society — the fam.ily," and he glared for a moment 
 at his niece. 
 
 " What you say seems very true, Mr. Baron. I should be 
 glad to know where jv// draw the line? Independent action 
 must begin at some period." 
 
 ^V'hile Mr. Baron hesitated over tliis rather embarrassing 
 question Miss Lou startled all her kindred by saying, " I 
 did not intend to take any i)art in this coinersation, but a 
 glance from my uncle makes his last remark personal to me. 
 I am at least old enough to ask one or two (juestions. Do 
 you think it right, Lieutenant Scoville, that a woman should 
 never have any independent lite of her own?" 
 
 '* Why, Miss Baron, what a question ! Within the re- 
 ceived limits of good taste a woman has as much right to 
 independent action as a man." 
 
 '* Well, then, how can she ever have any independence 
 if she is treated as a child up to one day of her life, and 
 the next day is expected to promise she will obey a man as 
 long as he lives? " 
 
 The angry spots in Mrs. Baron's cheeKS had been burning 
 deeper and deeper, and now she spoke promptly and freez- 
 ingly, " Mr. Scoville, I absolve you from answering one who 
 is proving herself to be neither a child nor a refined woman. 
 I did not expect this additional humiliation. If it had not 
 occurred I would have taken no part in the conversation. 
 Mr. Baron, I think we have granted even more than the 
 most quixotic idea of courtesy could demand." 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 \ ^1 
 
 'I 
 
 • 41 
 
 m 
 
 
, 
 
 , . 1 
 
 ■ I 
 
 M 
 
 ii 
 1 
 
 1 i 1 
 
 
 I 
 
 If liil' 
 
 128 
 
 ",V/.9.T LOr.'' 
 
 "' Granted? demand?' surely there is some mistake, 
 madam," said Scoville with dignity, as he rose instantly 
 from the table. " I have asked nothing whatever except 
 that you should dismiss your fears as far as 1 and my men 
 are concerned." 
 
 Mrs. Whately was ])rovokcd e(}ually at herself and all the 
 others. She now deeply regretted that she had not left 
 the Union officer to obtain his supper where and how he 
 could, but felt that she must smooth matters over as far as 
 possible. ''Lieutenant Scoville," she said hurriedly, "you 
 must make allowances for people in the deepest stress of 
 trouble. We did intend all the courtesy which our first 
 remarks defined. Of course you cannot know our circum- 
 stances, and when words are spoken which cut to the quick 
 it is hard to give no sign. Perhaps our hearts are too sore 
 and our differences too radical" — and she hesitated. 
 
 " I understand you, madam," said Scoville, bowing. " I 
 can only repeat my assurances of your safety and express 
 my regret " — 
 
 '•' Oh, shame ! " cried Miss Lou, whose anger and indigna- 
 tion nov/ passed all bounds. " We are Jio/ in the deepest 
 stress of trouble, and you, Mrs. Whately, are the last one to 
 say it. I saw this gentleman's sabre poised at your son's 
 throat long enough to have killed him twice over, and he 
 did not do it, even in the excitement of defending his own 
 life. After Mrs. Baron's words he again assures us of safety. 
 >\'hat did you all predict would happen immediately when 
 Northern soldiers came? Whether I am refined or not, I 
 am at least grateful. Lieutenant, please come with me. 
 I will try to prove that I appreciate your courtesy and for- 
 bearance," and she led the way from die room. 
 
 He bowed ceremoniously to Mr. Baron and the ladies, 
 then followed the girl, leaving them almost paralyzed by 
 their conflicting emotions. 
 
A SMILE ON WAR'S GRIM FACE. 
 
 129 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A SMILE ON war's GRIM FACE. 
 
 MISS LOU led the way to the broad, moonlit piazza. 
 As Scoville followed, he saw that the girl was trem- 
 bling violently, and he was thus able to grasp in some degree 
 the courage she was manifesting in her first half-desperate 
 essays towards freedom. " Poor child ! " he thought, " her 
 fright is surpassed only by her determination. How easily 
 they could manage her by a little tact and kindness ! " 
 
 SI"'/ pointed to a chair near the hall door and faltered, 
 " Lieutenant Scoville, I scarcely know whether I am doing 
 right in seeing you here alone. I know little of the usages 
 of society. I do not wish to appear to you unrefined." 
 
 " Miss Baron," he replied kindly, " I do not know why 
 you have not the same right which other young ladies enjoy, 
 of entertaining a gentleman at your home." 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad that you are not angry." 
 
 " I was never more lamb-like in my disposition than at 
 this moment. Moreover, I wish to thank you as a brave 
 girl and a genuine lady." 
 
 She was almost panting in her strong excitement and 
 embarrassment. " Please remember," she said, *' that I do 
 not wish to do or say any thing unbecoming, but I know so 
 little and have been so tried " — 
 
 " Miss Baron," and he spoke low for fear he would be 
 overheard, " I already know something of what you have 
 passed through and of your brave assertion of a sacred right. 
 Q 
 
 ! '-1 
 
 ■ S3 
 
 m 
 
 ..H 
 
\l; 
 
 i 
 
 !'l 
 
 II 
 
 M! 
 
 , I 
 
 130 
 
 ^'Af/SS LOU.'' 
 
 Continue that assertio:i and no one can force you into 
 marriage. I have ridden nearly twenty-four hours to be 
 here in time and to make some return for your great kind- 
 ness, but you were so brave that you scarcely needed help." 
 
 " Oh ! I did leed It. I was so frightened and so des- 
 perate that I was almost ready to faint. My cousin is one 
 who will have his own way. He has never been denied a 
 thing in his life. I should have been taken away at least 
 and then — oh, I just felt as if on the edge of a precipice. 
 It seems dreadful that I should be speaking so of my kin- 
 dred to a stranger and enemy " — 
 
 " Enemy ! Far from it. A friend. Have you not pro- 
 tected my life and liberty? Miss Baron, I give you my 
 sacred word, I swear to you by my mother's memory to be 
 as loyal to you as if you were my own sister. Young as I 
 am, perhaps I can advise you and help you, for it is indeed 
 clear that you need a friend." 
 
 " I cannot tell you what relief your words bring, for, 
 inexperienced as I am, something assures me that I can 
 trust you." 
 
 " Indeed you can. I should spoil my own life more truly 
 than yours if I were not true to my oath. Please remember 
 this and have confidence. That is what you need most — 
 confidence. Believe in yourself as well as in me. Have 
 you not been brave and true to yourself in the most painful 
 of ordeals ? Try to keep your self-control and you will make 
 no serious mistakes, and never so misjudge me as to imagine 
 I shall not recognize your good intentions." 
 
 " Ah ! " she sighed, with a rush of tears, " that's the 
 trouble. I'm so hasty; I lose my temper." 
 
 He smiled very genially as he said, "If you were as 
 amiable as some girls you would have been married before 
 this. Don't you see in what good stead your high spirit has 
 stood you ? I do not censure righteous anger when you are 
 
A SMILE ON WAR'S GRIM FACE 
 
 131 
 
 wronged. You are one who could not help liuch anger, 
 and, if controlled, it will only help you. All I ask is that 
 you so control it as to take no false steps and keep well 
 within your certain rights. You are in a peculiarly painful 
 position. Your kindred truly mean well by you — see how 
 fair I am — but if they could carry out their intentions and 
 marry you to that spoiled boy, you would be one of the 
 most unhappy of women. If he 'is capable of trying to force 
 you to marry him he would always be imperious and un- 
 reasonable. You would be a hard one to manage. Miss 
 Haron, by the words, You must, and You shall ; but I think 
 Please, would go a good way if your reason and conscience 
 were satisfied." 
 
 '' Indeed, sir, you are right. If I loved my cousin I would 
 marry him even though he were so badly wounded as to be 
 helpless all his life. Bui my whole soul protests against the 
 thought of marriage to any one. Why, sir, you can't know 
 how like a child I've always been treated. I feel that I 
 have a right to remain as I am, to see more of the world, 
 to know more and enjoy more of life. I can scarcely re- 
 member when I was truly happy, so strictly have I oeen 
 brought up. You would not believe it, but poor old Aun' 
 Jinkey, my mammy, is almost the only one who has not 
 always tried to make me do something whether I wished to 
 or not. My aunt, Mrs. VVhately, has meant to be kind, but 
 even in my childish squabbles with my cousin, and in his 
 exactions, 3he always took his part. I just want to be free 
 — that's all." 
 
 " Well, Miss Baron, you are free now, and if you will 
 simply assert your rights with quiet dignity you can remain 
 free. Your kindred are mistaken in their attitude towards 
 you, and you can make them see this in time. They are 
 well-bred people and are not capable of using force or 
 violence. They did, I suppose, believe terrible things of 
 
 ■4, 
 
 
 
 1^' 
 
 m 
 m 
 
 I > 
 
I! 
 I 
 
 n\ 
 
 132 
 
 •M/A'.V LOCr.** 
 
 me and those I represent, and their action, perhaps, has 
 been due partially to panic. 'I'hat crisis is past ; you have 
 only to trust your own best instincts in order to meet future 
 emergencies. Whatever comes, remember that your Northern 
 friend said he had confidence that you would do what is 
 brave and right. Perhaps we shall never meet again, for 
 we are in the midst of a fic.ce, active campaign. There is 
 much advice I would like to give you, but we shall not be 
 left alone long, and the best thing now, after this long, hard 
 day, is for you to get your mind quiet and hopeful. I'ow 
 c[uiet and peaceful every thing is ! not a harsh sound .0 be 
 heard." 
 
 "Yes, and think what they tried to make me be] "eve ! 
 They all should be treating you'with kindness instead of" — 
 but here she was interrupted by the appearance of Mrs. 
 Whately. 
 
 In order to understand that lady's action and that of her 
 relatives, we must go back to the moment when Miss Lou 
 and Scoville left the supper room. Mrs. Whately was the 
 first to recover her self-possession and some true apprecia- 
 tion of their situation. Mr. Baron in his rage would have 
 gone out and broken up the conference on the piazza, but 
 his sister said almost sternly, " Sit down." 
 
 '* Well," ejaculated Mrs. Baron, bitterly, " I hope you are 
 both satisfied now with the results of courtesy to Yankees. 
 I knew I was right in beli<-ving that we could have nothing 
 whatever to do with them. I think it is monstrous that 
 Louise is alone with one on the piazza, and her uncle 
 should interfere at once." 
 
 " Brother," said Mrs Whately, " you can see our niece 
 through the window from where you sit. She is talking 
 quietly with the officer." 
 
 " Yes, and what may he not say to her ? Already her 
 contumacious rebellion passes all bounds. She has heard 
 
V 
 
 A SM/L/: ON WAR'S GRIM FACE. 
 
 133 
 
 laps, has 
 you have 
 ct future 
 Northern 
 I what is 
 igain, for 
 There is 
 ill not be 
 ong, hard 
 111. ^'o\v 
 md o be 
 
 ; be] -eve ! 
 ^adof" — 
 - of Mrs. 
 
 lat of her 
 ]Miss Lou 
 y was the 
 a}iprecia- 
 Duld have 
 )iazza, but 
 
 e you are 
 Yankees, 
 e nothing 
 ;rous that 
 ler uncle 
 
 our niece 
 is talking 
 
 ready her 
 has heard 
 
 too much incendiary talk from him already," and he again 
 rose to end the interview. 
 
 " Hector liaron," said his sister solemnly, " you must 
 listen to me first, before you take any further steps. We 
 \yiil say nothing more about the past. It's gone and can't 
 be helped. Now, with all the intluence 1 have over you, I 
 urge you and your wife to remain here until you are calm — 
 till you have had a chance to think. Is this a time for head- 
 long anger? Was there ever a period in your life when you 
 should so carefully consider j consecjuences of your action ? 
 Please tell me how you ana sister are going to make Louise 
 do and think exactly what you wish. This is no time for 
 blinking the truth that you have alienated her. You could 
 easily now drive her to do something rash and terrible. I 
 understand her better every moment and feel that we have 
 taken the wrong course. She would have gone away with 
 Madison as his cousin, and wifehood would have come nat- 
 urally later. We have been too hasty, too arbitrary. You 
 both must recognize the truth that you can;iOt treat her as 
 a child any longer or you will lose her altogether, for in this 
 matter of marriage she has been made to know that she is 
 not a child. She can be led into it now, but not forced into 
 it. Her course is open now, but if you continue arbitrary 
 her action may become clandestine and even reckless. 
 Then in regard to this Yankee officer. Alas ! what he says 
 is too true. In our strong feeling we shut our eyes to facts. 
 Are we not in his j)ower? He has spared my son's life and 
 your property and home, and yet he has been virtually 
 ordered out of the house. There is truth in what Louise 
 said. We are not in the deepest stress of trouble — infinitely 
 removed from the trouble we might be in." 
 
 " He has not spared my property," growled Mr. Baron, 
 " he has told all my people they are free, Where does that 
 leave me?" 
 
 ii » 
 
 pi 
 
li 
 
 134 
 
 ''M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 \ ! 
 
 " Now, brother, your very words prove how essential it is 
 that you regain your self-control and reason. Is this young 
 officer going through the country on his own responsibility? 
 He only echoes the proclamation of Abe Lincoln, whorn he 
 is bound to obey. Since we entered on the discussion of 
 our differences could we expect him to do otherwise than 
 present his side as strongly as he could? Now if you and 
 sister can shake all this off by one mighty effort of your wills, 
 do so ; but if we do not wish to invite every evil we predicted, 
 do let us be calm and rational. Fur one, I feel Louise's 
 reproof keenly, and it will not do to outrage her sense of 
 justice any longer. This officer has proved that we were 
 wrong in our predictions before he came. If now we con- 
 tinue to treat him as outside the pale of courtesy, we lose 
 her sympathy utterly and do our utmost to provoke him and 
 his men. Merciful heaven I if my son were a bleeding 
 corpse or dying in agony, what would the world be to me ? 
 I shall apologize to him and treat him with politeness as 
 long as I am under his protection." 
 
 *' I shall have nothing to do with him," said Mrs. Baron, 
 pressing her thin lips together. 
 
 " Well, well," ejaculated Mr. Baron, '' I suppose I shall 
 have to become meeker than Moses, and kiss every rod 
 that smites me for fear of gettmg a harsher blow." 
 
 Mrs. Whately felt that it was useless to say any thing 
 more, and as we have seen, joined her niece. 
 
 " Lieutenant," she said, " we owe you an apology, and I 
 freely and frankly offer it. I fear you think we arc making 
 sorry return for your kindness." 
 
 " Mrs. Whately, I appreciate your good intentions, and I 
 can make allowance for the feelings of my host and hostess. 
 'J'he fine courtesy of Miss Baron would disarm hostility itself, 
 but I assure you that there is no personal hostility on my 
 part to any of you." 
 
 'A ', 
 
.1 SMILK ON \VAK\S GRIM FACE. 
 
 135 
 
 itial it is 
 
 lis young 
 
 nsibility ? 
 
 whom he 
 
 iission of 
 
 vise than 
 
 you and 
 
 ,'our wills, 
 
 )reclicted, 
 
 Louise's 
 
 sense of 
 
 we were 
 
 ' we con- 
 
 ', we lose 
 
 ; him and 
 
 bleeding 
 
 to me? 
 
 teness as 
 
 rs. Baron, 
 
 ie I shall 
 ivery rod 
 
 ny thing 
 
 ^y, and I 
 making 
 
 IS, and I 
 hostess, 
 ity itself, 
 y on my 
 
 " Well, sir, I must say that I regard it as a very kind 
 ordering of Providence that we have fallen into such hands 
 as yours." 
 
 '* I certainly am in no mood to complain," he replied, 
 laughing. " Perhaps experience has taught us that we had 
 better ignore our differences. I was just remarking to Miss 
 Baron on the beauty and peacefulness of the night. Will 
 you not join us? We can imagine a flag of truce flying, 
 under which we can be just as good friends as we please." 
 
 ** Thank you. I will join you with pleasure," and she sat 
 down near her niece. " Well," she added, " this is a scene 
 to be remembered." 
 
 Miss Lou looked at Scoville gratefully, for his words and 
 manner had all tended to reassure her. In her revolt, he 
 sliowed no disposition to encourage recklessness on her 
 part. As her mind grew calmer she saw more clearly the 
 course he had tried to define — that of blended firmness 
 and courtesy to her relatives. She was so unsophisticated 
 and had been so confused and agitated, that she scarcely 
 knew where to draw the line between simple, right action 
 and indiscretion. Conscious of her inexperience, inclined 
 to be both timid and reckless in her ignorance and trouble, 
 she began even now to cling, metaphorically, to his strong, 
 sustaining hand. His very presence produced a sense of 
 restfulness and safety, and when he began to call attention 
 to the scenes and sounds about them she was sufficiently 
 quiet to be appreciative. 
 
 Dew sparkled in ihe grass of the lawn on which the 
 shadows of trees and shrubbery fell motionless. The air 
 was balmy and sweet with the fragrance of spring flowers. 
 The mocking-birds were in full ecstatic song, their notes 
 scaling down from bursts of melody to the diollery of all 
 kinds of imitation. The wounded men on the far end of 
 the piazza were either sleeping or talking in low tones, 
 
 i::* 
 
 %■% 
 
\w 
 
 if 
 
 ; 
 
 k t 
 
 I'.! :| 
 
 136 
 
 "/1//.9.9 I or/." 
 
 proving that there was no extremity of suffering. Off to the 
 left, between them and the negro (juartcrs, were two or three 
 fires, around which the Union solcHers were reclining, some 
 already asleep after the fatigues of the day, others playing 
 cards or spinning yarns, while one, musically in( lined, was 
 evoking from a flute an air plaintive and sweet in the dis- 
 tance. Farther away under the trees, shadows in shadow, 
 the horses were dimly seen eating their provender. The 
 Confederate prisoners, smoking about a fire, appeared to be 
 taking the "horrors of captivity " very (luictly and comfort- 
 ably. At the quarters they heard the sound of negro-sing- 
 ing, half barbaric in its wildness. 
 
 " It is hard to realize that this scene means war," remarked 
 Miss Lou, after they had gazed and listened a few moments 
 in silence. 
 
 " Yet it does," said Scoville quietly. " Look down the 
 avenue. Do you not see the glint of the moonbeams on ^ 
 carbine? All around us are men mounted and armed. If a 
 shot were fired, we should all be ready for battle in three min- 
 utes. Those prisoners will be guarded with sleepless vigilance 
 till I deliver them up. There is a sentinel at the back of the 
 house, three guarding the out-buildings, and so it will be till 
 I am relieved and another takes command." 
 
 "Who will he be?" she asked apprehensively. 
 
 " I do not know." 
 
 *' Oh, I wish you could guard us till these troubles arc 
 over." 
 
 " I can honestly echo that wish," added Mrs. Whately. 
 
 " Thank you. It would be pleasanter duty than usually 
 falls to the lot of a soldier. Yet in these times I scarcely 
 know what my duty may be from hour to hour." 
 
 " You told us that we need not fear anything to-night," 
 began Mrs. Whately. 
 
 ** Not unless I am attacked, I said. I am aware that at 
 
A SMILE O.X WAR'S GKIM FACE, 
 
 137 
 
 this moment your son is seeking a force to do this. I do not 
 think that he will l)e able to fnul any, however, before morn- 
 ing. In any event you could have nothing to fear from us, 
 except as your dreams were disturbed by a battle." 
 
 " Uh, I wish I were a soldier!" exclaimed the girl. 
 "This whole scene seems as if taken right out of a story." 
 
 "You are looking at this moment on the bright side of our 
 life. At any rate, I'm glad you're not a soldier. If you were, 
 my duty might be made more ditificult. It has other and very 
 different sides. By the way, I would like to watch those 
 negroes a litde while, and listen to them. Their perform- 
 ances always interest me deeply. Will not you ladies go with 
 me? Soon 1 must get some rest while I can." 
 
 Miss Lou looked at her aunt, who hesitated a moment, 
 then said, " T am very tired^ Lieutenant. I will trust you as 
 a chivalrous enemy to take my niece, and I will sit here until 
 you return." 
 
 " I deeply appreciate your kindness, madam." 
 
 Miss Lou went with him gladly and found herself at the 
 close of the long, miserable day becoming positively happy. 
 When out of hearing she said, " Aunt's permission almost 
 took away my breath. Yet it seems to me just the way 
 a girl ought to be treated. Oh, how perfectly delicious is a 
 little bit of freedom ! How perfectly grand to have some- 
 thing going on that does not mean no end of trouble to 
 one's self! " 
 
 Scoville laughed lightly as lie replied, " I now wish you 
 were a soldier and an officer in my regiment. You and I 
 would make good comrades." 
 
 " You forget, sir," she answered in like vein, " that I am 
 a bloodthirsty little rebel." 
 
 " On the contrary, I remember that yours was the kind, 
 pitying face which made me half fancy I was in heaven when 
 recovering from my swoon." 
 
 I 3 
 
 'I it 
 
 II 
 
m 
 
 
 M 
 
 I -.8 
 
 "M/SS Locr. 
 
 " Chunk and Aim' Jinkey brought you back to earth right 
 sudden, didn't they?" and her laugh rang out merrily. 
 
 "Sister," cried Mr. Baron, running out on the veranda, 
 "what on earth — I thought I heard Louise laugh way off 
 towards the quarters." 
 
 " You did." 
 
 " What ! has she broken all bounds, defied all authority, 
 and gone utterly wild in her rebellion?" 
 
 Mrs. Whately made a gesture of half irritable protest. 
 Meantime, Mrs. Baron, hearing her husband's voice, came 
 out and exclaimed, " Is that Louise and the Yankee yonder 
 going off alone? " 
 
 " Tbey are not ' going off.' You and brother may join 
 them, if you wish. They simply intend to watcL the people 
 at the quarters a little while, and I will wait here for them." 
 
 " Sarah Whately ! " gasped Mrs. Bnron, " can you mean to 
 say that you have permitted our ward to do such an indeli- 
 cate thing? She has never been permitted to go out alone 
 in the evening with any young man, and the idea that she 
 should begin with a Yankee! " 
 
 " She is not alone. She" is always within call and most of 
 the time in sight. I will make one more effort to bring you 
 both to reason," added Mrs. Whately, warmly, "and then, 
 if we continue to differ so radically, I will return home in 
 the morning, after giving Louise to understand that she can 
 always find a refuge with me if it is necessary. Can you 
 think I would let the girl whom my son hopes to marry do 
 an indelicate thing? Pardon me, but I think I am compe- 
 tent to judge in such matters. I will be answerable for her 
 conduct and that of Lieutenant Scoville also, for he is a 
 gentleman if he ja our enemy. I tell you again that your 
 course towards Louise will drive her to open, reckless defi- 
 ance. It is a critical time with her. She is my niece as 
 well as your ward, and it is the dearest wish of myself and 
 
A SMILE ON WAR'S GRIM FACE. 
 
 139 
 
 son that she should be bound to us by the closest ties. I 
 will not have her future and all our hopes endangered by 
 a petty, useless tyranny. If you will treat her like a young 
 lady of eighteen I believe she will act like one." 
 
 Mrs. Baron was speechless in her anger, but her husband 
 began, " Oh, well, if he were a Southern officer " — 
 
 Then the blood of her race became too hot for Mrs. 
 Whately's control, and she sprung up, saying, " Well, then, 
 go and tell him to his face that he's a vile Yankee, a Goth 
 and Vandal, a ruthless invader, unworthy of a moment's 
 trust, and incapable of behaving like a gentleman ! Take 
 no further protection at his hands. How can you be so 
 blind as not to see I am doing the best thing possible to 
 retain Louise within our control and lead her to fu'^1 our 
 hopes? I ask you again, Ijow are you going to make Louise 
 do what you wish ? You cannot be arbitrary with even one 
 of your own slaves any longer." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Baron, " I wash my hands of it all," and 
 she retired to her room. Mr. Baron sat down in a chair and 
 groaned aloud. It was desperately hard for him to accept 
 the strange truth that he could not order every one on the 
 place, his niece included, to do just what pleased him. 
 Never had an autocratic potentate been more completely 
 nonplussed ; but his sister's words, combined with events, 
 brought him face to face with his impotence so inexorably 
 that for a time he had nothing to say. 
 
i! 
 
 n- 
 
 r'l 
 
 |!!i 
 
 iM 
 
 
 i i 
 
 'li 
 
 140 
 
 ''M/SS LOU,'' 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE JOY OF FREEDOM. 
 
 IN an open space near the quarters the negroes had kindled 
 a fire, although the night was mild. These children of 
 the sun love warmth and all that is cheerful and l^right, their 
 emotions appearing to kindle more reac-iiy with the leaping 
 flames. When Miss Lou and Scoville approached, the wor- 
 shippers were just concluding the hymn heard on the piazza. 
 Fror the humble cabins stools, benches, rickety chairs, and 
 nondescript seats made from barrels, had been brought and 
 placed in a circle close about the fire. These were occupied 
 by the elderly and infirm. Uncle Lusthah, whose name had 
 been evolved from Methaselah, was the evident leader of 
 the meeting, and Miss Lou whispered to her attendant, 
 " He's the recognized preacher among them, and I believe he 
 tries to live up to his ideas of right." 
 
 " Then I'll listen to him very respectfully," said Scoville. 
 
 'i'heir advent created quite a commotion, and not a few 
 were inclined to pay court to the " Linkum ossifer." All 
 who had seats rose to offer them, but Scoville smiled, shook 
 his head and waved them back. Uncle Lusthah immedi- 
 ately regained attention by shouting, " Look at me : " then, 
 " Now look up. Who we uns befo' ? De King. De gret 
 Jehovah. Bovv yo' haids humble ; drap yo' eyes. Tek off 
 de shocn fum yo' feet lak Moses w'en he gwine neah de 
 bunin' bush. Young mars'r en young mistis standin' dar 
 'spectful. ])ey knows dat ef de gret Linkum yere hissef, 
 
THE Joy of freedom. 
 
 141 
 
 Dville. 
 few 
 All 
 hook 
 iiedi- 
 then, 
 gret 
 k off 
 h de 
 dar 
 issef, 
 
 Linkum's Lawd en Mars'r yere befo' 'im. Let us all gib our 
 'tention ter 'Im who's brung 'liverance ter Isrel at las'. We 
 gwine troo de Red Sea ob wah now en des whar de promis' 
 Ian' is we got ter fin' out, but we hab tu'ned our backs on ole 
 Egypt en we ain' gwine back no mo'. Brudren en sistas, 
 you'se yeard a Gospil, a good news, dis eb'nin' sho. You'se 
 yeard you free, bress de Lawd ! I'se been waitin' fer dis 
 news mo' yeahs den I kin reckermember, but dey's come 
 'fo' my ole haid's under de sod. Hit's all right dat we 
 is glad en sing aloud for joy, but we orter rejice wid trem'lin'. 
 De 'sponsibil'ties ob freedom is des tremenjus. Wat you 
 gwine ter do wid freedom? Does you tink you kin git 
 lazy en thievin' en drunken ? Is dere any sech foolishness 
 yere ? Will eny man or ooman call deysefs free w'en dey's 
 slabes ter some mean, nasty vice ? Sech folks al'ays be 
 slabes, en dey orter be slabes ter a man wid a big whip. See 
 how de young mars'r 'haves dat brung de news ob freedom. 
 He know he juty ei> he does hit brave. He mek de w'ite 
 sogers he 'mands des toe de mark. We got ter toe a 
 long, w'ite mark. We ain' free ter do foolishness no mo' dan 
 he en he men is. De gret Linkum got he eye on you ; de 
 Cap'n ob onr salvation got He eye on you. Now I des gib 
 you some 'structions," and happy it would have been for 
 the freedmen — for their masters and deliverers also, it may 
 be added — if all had followed Uncle Lusthah's " 'struc- 
 tions." 
 
 When through with his exhortation the old preacher knelt 
 down on the box which served as his pulpit and offered a 
 fervent petition. From the loud " aniens " and " 'lujahs " he 
 evidendy voiced the honest feeling of the hour in his dusky 
 audience. Scoville was visibly affected at the reference to 
 him. " May de deah Lawd bress de young Linkum ossifer," 
 rose Uncle Lusthah's tones, loud, yet with melodious power 
 and pathos, for he was gifted with a voice of unusGal compass, 
 
 '1 
 
 Is 
 
 i':' 
 
 If ' 
 
II 
 
 Pi 
 
 1 
 11 
 
 142 
 
 ''M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 developed by his calling. " He des took he life in he hand 
 en come down in de Ian' ob de shadder, de gret, dark shadder 
 dat's been restin' on de hearts ob de slabes. We had no 
 fader, no miider, no wife, no chile. Dey didn't 'long to we 
 fer dey cud be sole right out'n oiar arms en we see deni 
 no mo'. De gret shadder ob slav'y swallow dem up. 
 Young mars'r face de bullit, face de so'ed, face de curse ter 
 say we free. May de Lawd be he shiel' en buckler, compass 
 'im roun' wid angel wings, stop de han' riz ter strike, tu'n 
 away de bullit aim at he heart. May de Lawd brung 'im 
 gray bars at las lak mine, so he see, en his chil'n see, en our 
 chil'n see de 'liverancc he hep wrought out. 
 
 " En dar's young mistis. She hab a heart ter feel fer de 
 po' slabe She al'ays look kin' at us, en she stood 'tween 
 us en woun's en death ; w'en all was agin us en she in 
 de watehs ob triberlation hersef, she say 'fo' dem all, ' No 
 harm come ter us.' She put her lil w'ite arm roun' her ole 
 mammy." (" Dat she did," cried Aun' Jinkey, who was 
 swaying back and forth where the fire lit up her wrinkled 
 visage, ** en de gret red welt on her shol'er now.") " She 
 took de blow," continued Uncle Lusthah, amidst groans and 
 loud lamentations, *' en de Lawd, wid whose stripes we 
 healed, nii/l bress her en hab aready bressed her en brung 
 her 'liverance 'long o' us. May He keep her eyes fum 
 teahs, en er heart fum de breakin' trouble ; may He shine 
 on a path dat lead ter all de bes' tings in dis yere worl' en 
 den ter de sweet home ob heb'n ! " 
 
 When the voice of Uncle Lusthah ceased Scoville heard a 
 low sob from Miss Lou at his side and he was conscious that 
 tears stood in his own eyes. His heart went out in strong 
 homage to the young girl to whom such tribute had been 
 paid and her heart thrilled at the moment as she distin- 
 guished his deep " amen " in the strong, general indorse- 
 ment of tlte petition in her behalf. 
 
THE JO V OP' FREEDOM. 
 
 t43 
 
 Then rose a hymn which gathered such volume and* 
 power that it came back in echoes from distant groves. 
 
 '• Hark, hark, I year a soun'. Hit come fum far away; 
 Wake, wake, en year de soun' dat come fum far away. 
 De night am dark, de night been long, but dai de mawnin' gray; 
 En wid de lit^ht is comin' sweet a soun' fum far away. 
 
 " Look how de light am shinin' now across de gret Red Sea. 
 On Egypt sho' we stay no mo' in slabing misery. 
 Ole Pharaoh year de voice ob God, * Des set my people free ; ' 
 En now we march wid song en shout, right troo the gret Red .Sea." 
 
 Every line ended with the rising inflection of more than 
 a hundred voices, followed by a pause in which the echoes 
 repeated clearly the final sound. The effect was weird, 
 strange in the last degree, and, weary as he was, Scoville 
 felt all his nerves tingling. 
 
 The meeting now broke up, to be followed by dancing 
 and singing among the younger negroes. Uncle Lusthah, 
 Ann' Jinkey, and many others crowded around Scoville and 
 " the young mistis " to pay their respects. Chunk and Zany, 
 standing near, graciously accepted the honors showered upon 
 them. The officer speedily gave Miss Lou his arm and led 
 her away. When so distant as to be unobserved, he said in 
 strong emphasis, " Miss Baron, I take off my hat to you. 
 Not to a princess would I pay such homage as to the woman 
 who could wake the feeling with which these poor people 
 regard you." 
 
 She blushed with the deepest pleasure of her life, for she 
 had been repressed and reprimanded so long that words of 
 encouragement and praise were very sweet. But she only 
 said \yith a laugh, " Oh, come ; don't turn my poor bewil- 
 dered head any more to-night. I'm desperately anxious to 
 have uncle and aunt think I'm a very mature young woman, 
 
 I i 
 
 n 
 
!l' i 
 
 I 
 
 if. I 
 
 144 
 
 "M/SS LOU."* 
 
 ' but I know better aixl so do you. Wliy, even Uncle 
 Lusthah made me cry like a child." 
 
 *' Well, his words about you Ijrought tears to my eyes, and 
 so there's a pair of us." 
 
 *• Oh ! " she cried delightedly, giving his arm a slight press- 
 ure, " I didn't know that you'd own up to that. When I saw 
 them I felt like laughing and crying at the same moment. 
 And so I do now — it's so delicious to be free and ha[ipy — 
 to feel that some one is honestly pleased with you." 
 
 He looked upon her upturned face, still dewy from emotion, 
 and wondered if the moon that night shone onafiiirer object 
 the world around. It was indeed the face of a glad, happy 
 child no longer depressed by woes a few hours old, nor fear- 
 ful of what the next hour might bring Her look into his 
 eyes was also that of a child, full of unbounded trust, now 
 that her full confidence was won. " You do indeed seem 
 like a lovely child, Miss Baron, and old Uncle Lusthah told 
 the whole truth about you. rhose simple folk are like chil- 
 dren themselves and find people out by intuition. If you 
 were not good-hearted they would know it. Well, I'm glad 
 I'm not old myself." 
 
 "But you're going to be old — aivfnl old," she replied, 
 full of rippling laughter. " Oh, wasn't I glad to hear Uncle 
 Lusthah pray over you ! for if there is a God who takes any 
 care of people, you will live to be as gray as he is." 
 
 "If there is a God?" 
 
 "Oh, I'm a little heathen. I couldn't stand uncle or 
 aunt's God at all or believe in Him. They made me 
 feel that He existed just to approve of their words and 
 ways, and to help them keep me miserable. When I hear 
 Uncle Lusthah he stirs me all up just as he did to-night ; 
 but then I've always been taught that he's too ignorant — 
 well, I don't know. Uncle and aunt made an awful bhuider,'** 
 and here she began to laugh again. " There is quite a large 
 
THE JOY OF FREEDOM. 
 
 145 
 
 Uncle 
 
 :s, and 
 
 press- 
 11 1 saw 
 omcnt. 
 Li.py — 
 
 iiiotion, 
 r object 
 , happy 
 .or fear- 
 into his 
 ast, now 
 ;d seem 
 lah told 
 ike chil- 
 If you 
 m glad 
 
 replied, 
 ir Uncle 
 ikes any 
 
 Lincle or 
 ade me 
 Irds and 
 n I hear 
 lo-night ; 
 lorant — 
 ihmder,^ 
 a large 
 
 lil)rary at the house, at least I suppose it's large, and I rei 
 and read till I was on the point of rebellion, before you aril 
 Cousin Mad came. Hooks make some things clear and 
 others so-o puzzling. I like to hear you talk, for you seem 
 so decided and you know so much more than I do. Cousin 
 Mad never read much. It was always horse, and dog, and 
 gun with him. How I'm running on and how far I am from 
 your question ! liut it is such a new thing to have a listencc 
 who cares and understands. Aun' Jinkey cares, poor soilT ! 
 but she can understand so little. Lieutenant, I can answer 
 your implied question in only one way ; I wish to know what 
 is true. Do you believe there's a God who cares for us as 
 Uncle Lusthah says?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, Tm glad you do ; and simply saying so will have 
 more weight than all arguments." 
 
 " Please remember, Miss Baron, I haven't said that I lived 
 up to my faith. It's hard to do this, I suppose, in the army. 
 Still I've no right to any excuses, much less to the unmanly 
 one that it's hard. What if it is? That's a pretty excuse for 
 a soldier. Well, no matter about me, except that I wish 
 you to know that with all my mind and heart I believe that 
 there is a good God taking care of a good girl like you. Par- 
 don me if I ask another question quite foreign. How could 
 your cousin wish to marry you if you do not love him ?" 
 
 He wondered as he saw the child-like xook pass from her 
 face and her brow darken into a frown. " I scarcely know 
 how to answer you," she said, " and I only understand 
 vaguely myself. I understand better, though, since I've 
 known you. When you were hiding in Aun' Jinkey's cabin 
 you looked good-ioill at me. I saw that you were not think- 
 ing of yourself, but of me, and that you wished me well. 
 I feel that Cousin Mad is always thinking of himself, that 
 his professed love of me is a sort of self-love. He gives me 
 H 
 
 I 
 
II 
 
 w 
 
 if: 
 
 146 
 
 '*A//SS LOU.'' 
 
 the feeling that he wants me for his 07un sake, not for my 
 sake at all. I don't believe he'd love me a minute after he 
 got tired of me. I'd be just like the toys he used to cry 
 for, then break up. I won't marry such a man, nevcry 
 
 " You had better not. Hush ! We are approaching a 
 man yonder who appears anxious to hear v.hat is none 
 of his business." 
 
 They had been strolling slowly back, often pausing in the 
 deep mutual interest of their conversation. Miss l.ou now 
 detected Perkins standing in the shadow of his dwelling, 
 between the mansion and the quarters. 
 
 "That's the overseer," she said, in a low voice. "How 
 quick your eyes are ! " 
 
 "They must be in my duty." Then he directed their 
 steps so as to pass near the man. When opposite, he 
 turned his eyes suddenly upon Perkins' face, and detected 
 surh a scowl of hostility and hate that his hand dropped 
 instinctively on the butt of his revolver. "Well, sir," he 
 said, sternly, "you have shown your disposition," 
 
 "You didn't 'spect ter find a friend, I reck'n," was the 
 surly yet confused reply. 
 
 " Very well, I know how to treat such bitter enemies as 
 you Lave shown yourself to be. Officer of the guard ! " A 
 trooper ran forward from the camp-fire and saluted. " Put 
 this man with the other prisoners, and see that he has no 
 communication with any one." 
 
 As Perkins was marched off they heard him mutter a 
 curse. "Pardon me. Miss Baron," Scoville resumed. "The 
 lives of my men are in my care, and that fellow would mur- 
 der us all if he had a chance. I don't know that he <.ould 
 do any harm, but it would only be from lack of opportunity. 
 I never take risks that 1 can help." 
 
 " Having seen his expression I can't blame you," was 
 her reply. 
 
 bl 
 
for my 
 
 ftcr he 
 
 to cry 
 
 »> 
 
 hing a 
 i none 
 
 I \\\ 
 
 the 
 
 ,ou now 
 welhng, 
 
 u 
 
 How 
 
 ed their 
 )site, he 
 detected 
 dropped 
 sir," he 
 
 was the 
 
 lemies as 
 ■d ! " A 
 " Put 
 has no 
 
 I mutter a 
 ll. "The 
 )uld mur- 
 Ihe could 
 )ortunity. 
 
 fOU, 
 
 " was 
 
 THE JOY OF FREEDOM. 
 
 H7 
 
 He 
 
 A new train of thought was awakened in Scoville. 
 paused a moment and looked at her earnestly. 
 
 " Why do you look at me so? " she asked. 
 
 " Miss liaron, pardon me, but I do wish I were going to 
 be here longer, or rather, I wish the war was over. I fear 
 there are deep perplexities, and perhaps dangers, l)efore 
 you. My little force is in the van of a raiding column which 
 will pass rapidly through the country. It will be here to- 
 morrow morning, but gone before night, in all probability. 
 The war will be over soon, I trust, Init so much may ha])pen 
 before it is. You inspire in me such deej) solicitude. I had 
 to tell those poor negroes that they were free. So !iey 
 would be if within our lines. Br.t when we are gone that 
 overseer may be brutal, and the slaves may come again to 
 you for protection. That cousin of yours may also come 
 again — oh, it puts me in a sort of rage to think of leaving 
 you so unfriended. You will hav<i to be a woman in very 
 truth, and a brave, circumspect one, too." 
 
 ** You are right, sir," she replied with dignity, " and you 
 must also remember that I will be a Southern woman. I do 
 feel most friendly to you personally, but not to your cause. 
 Forgive me if I have acted and spoken too much like a child 
 to-night, and do not misunderstand me. Circumstances have 
 brought us together in a strange way, and while I live I shall 
 remember you with respect and gratitude. I can never lose 
 the friendly interest you have inspired, and I can never think 
 of the North as I hear others speak of it ; but I belong to 
 my own people and I should be very unhappy and humili- 
 ated if I felt that I must continue to look to an enemy of 
 my country for protection. I cannot go over to your side 
 any more than you can come over to ours." 
 
 He merely sighed in answer. 
 
 " You 4o not think less " — and then she paused in trou- 
 bled silence, 
 
 I 
 
 r» 'P 
 
148 
 
 M/SS l.OU.'' 
 
 \ 
 
 !i 
 
 li 
 
 I 'I 
 
 " Louise," called Mrs. VVhately's voice. 
 
 ** Yes," replied the girl, " we arc coming." 
 
 " I think you will always try to do what seems right to 
 you, Miss Baron. May God help and guide you, for you 
 may have trouble of which you little dream. AVhat you say 
 about your side and my side has no place in my thoughts. 
 I'll help settle such questions with soldiers. Neither do 1 
 wish to be officious, but there is something in my very 
 manhood which i)rotests rigainst a fair young girl like you 
 being so beset with troubles." 
 
 " P'orgive me," she said earnestly. " There it is again. 
 You are unselfishly thinking of me, and that's so new. 
 • There's no use of disguising it. When you go there'll not 
 be one Lft except Aun' Jinkey and Uncle Lusthah who will 
 truly wish what's best for mc without regard to themselves. 
 Well, it can't be helped. At least I have had a warning 
 which I won't forget." • 
 
 " But Mrs. Whately seems so kindly " — 
 
 " Hush ! I see uncle coming. She would sacrifice herself 
 utterly for her son, and do you think she would spare 
 
 me ? " 
 
 Mr. Baron's fears and honest sense of responsibility led 
 him at last to seek his niece. In doing this he saw Perkins 
 undfer guard Hastening to Scoville he demanded, " What 
 does this mean? My overseer is not a combatant, sir." 
 
 " Mr. Baron," replied the officer, " have you not yet 
 learned that I am in command on this plantation?" 
 
 Poor Mr. Baron lost his temper again and exploded most 
 unwisely in the words, " Well, sir, my niece is not under 
 your command. You had no right to take her from the 
 house without my permission. I shall report you to your 
 superior officer to-morrow." 
 
 '' 1 hope you will, sir." # 
 
 "I also protest against the treatment of my overseer." 
 
ght U) 
 or you 
 ^ou say 
 oughts, 
 er do I 
 ly very 
 ike you 
 
 > again, 
 io new. 
 rc'll not 
 who will 
 mselves. 
 warning 
 
 I herself 
 d spare 
 
 Dility led 
 
 Perkins 
 
 , " What 
 
 tir." 
 not yet 
 
 led most 
 
 )t under 
 
 t"rom the 
 
 to your 
 
 leer. 
 
 T/i/i JO Y OF FKEEDOM. 
 
 149 
 
 " Very well, sir." 
 
 *' You will i)lease release my niece's arm and leave us to 
 ourselves, as you promised." 
 
 " No, sir, I shall escort Miss Baron back to Mrs. Whately, 
 from whom I obtained the honor of her society," 
 
 ** Louise, I command " — Mr. Baron began, almost chok- 
 ing with rage. 
 
 "No, uncle," replied the girl, "you command me no 
 more. Reijucst me jjoiitely, and I will shake hands with 
 Lieutenant Scoville, thank him for his courtesy to me and 
 to us all, and then go with you." 
 
 The old man turned on his heel and walked back to the 
 house without a word. 
 
 " Bravo ! " whispered Scoville, but he felt her hand trem- 
 ble on his arm. •'* That's your true course," he added. " In- 
 sist on the treatment due your age, act like a lady, and you 
 will be safeV 
 
 " Well," Mrs. Whately tried to say politely, " have not 
 you young peojile taken an ell?" 
 
 " No, Mrs. Whately," Scoville replied gravely. " We have 
 not taken a step out of our way between here and the quar- 
 ters, although we have lingered in conversation. We have 
 ever been in plain sight of many of your people. I put the 
 overseer under arrest because I had absolute proof of his 
 malicious hostility. I shall inflict no injury on any one 
 who does not threaten to be dangerous to my command, 
 my duty requiring that I draw the line sharply there. Mrs. 
 AVhately, I have never met a young lady who inspired in 
 me more honest respect. If we have trespassed on your 
 patience, the blame is mine. I^adies, I thank you for your 
 courtesy and wisli you good-night," and lie walked rapidly 
 away. 
 
 " Aunty," said Miss Lou, " you have begun to treat me in 
 a way which would inspire my love and confidence." 
 
 I 
 
 ■m 
 
Il 
 
 • so 
 
 Af/\\ /()/ 
 
 I 
 
 " \\\'\\, my i\cM, I am sou'ly pi'ipK'xnl. If wo yirM m 
 miiu>i pnntts, yoii should in vit.-il oiu*s, ;m«l tnist to our riper 
 rxpiMionro ami knowKMlm'." 
 
 Vhc tlislr.u lions o\ \\\v «l.iv Itiul pi.x lirally rolihrd Mr. 
 Iluon «>r all sell «-on1r«)l. ;m»l lu* now cxrhnuuMl. •' I yu'M 
 noiluu^. -"As \o\u^u.inliuu I sl\,ill mMiutaiu u\\ rij^hls ami 
 h\c up lo m\ SCUM' o\ rcspousilnlity. Il Ity wilil. n* klt'^s 
 ronduct \ou liiw.nt mv ollorts in Viiur lu'hall'. n)v nspon^i- 
 bilitv iiMsi's. I t an tlu'u li'ol thai I ha\o doni' mv ln'st." 
 
 And 
 
 lid I 
 
 so. urn U\ \o\i woiild l>r »|mtt' » ontrnl. no maltcr 
 
 what hocami' ol nu\" addled tho girl bittorly. " Well, then, 
 I tril \o\\ to \our (.wc that you cannot marry nu*. like a 
 sl.wo j:irl. to uhom you please. I'll die lirst. I sh.ill have 
 my girlho(>vl. .\nd then, as woman, tnarrv or not marry, as 1 
 rhoosc. Aunty. I .ipptMl t^) you. as a woman and a lady, to 
 sl\>p this wreteheil lolly it" you ean." 
 
 " l.ouiso." s.iivl her aunt, kindlv. "as long as I havi* a 
 home it shall be a refuge to von. 1 hope the monow will 
 luinc wiser counsels atid better moods tt> us all." 
 
 The mansioti soon be<'ame quiet, and all slept in the 
 
 weariness o\' reaction. 
 
 No sound < ame iVom the darkened 
 
 dwelling e\ee])t an occasional groan from one of the woimded 
 men on the pia/7a. Scoville. wrapju'd in a blanket, lay down 
 b\ the lire with his men and was asleep almost instantly. 
 I'hc still shadinvs on the dewv grass slowly turned towards 
 the east .\s the m H>n sank Knv. Vo the last, its beams 
 glintetl on the weajjons o\ \igilant sentinels and videttes, 
 and the onb warlike soi;nds occurred at the relief of giianls. 
 All rested who ciMild rest e\<ept tuie — the ovei"seer. Rest- 
 less, \indietive, he watched and listened till morning. 
 
(l«l in 
 r ni>«r 
 
 .1 Mr. 
 1 vu-M 
 ts and 
 
 s|H)n^i- 
 
 lu.Utrr 
 1. tlion. 
 . liki' a 
 ill havi' 
 ry. as I 
 b.lv. to 
 
 \\:\\c a 
 row will 
 
 in tho 
 nkiMioil 
 oun<lo«l 
 iv down 
 istantly. 
 lowards 
 bcatus 
 
 idcttos. 
 
 gnards. 
 Rcst- 
 
 I ll7':/./~.l/Af/:/> .S7//77'.A'. 
 
 iSi 
 
 cii,\i'TI-:r XVIII. 
 
 A WKI.I.-AIMKI) SMI'I'KU. 
 
 IT would 1)1' hard to iniagiiu' a morning more lovely, a 
 nion* piMliM t typi* of pcacf and good-will, than the one 
 whi« l» dawnod <»vcM Tlu ( )aks plantation the following day. 
 With llu' light tame IVagranl /e|)hyrs of dclieious coolness ; 
 the stillness of the night gave place to a slight stir and rustle 
 of foliagi' ; chanticleers crowed lustily, with no forelnxlings 
 of their doom ; the iiorses began to whinny for their hreak- 
 fists, and the negroes to emerge from their (]uarlers to greet 
 the light of this fnst fair day of freedom. Uncle Lusthah 
 declared " I )e millenyum ycre sho ! " Smoke rose from 
 Aun' jinkey's chimney, and after the |H)ne was baki. /, on 
 the hearth she came out on the doorstep with her pipe to 
 do a little " projeckin'." JOven she was im|)ressed with the 
 beauty and peacefulness of the morning. " lOn ter tink," 
 she ejai ulated, " my honey's sleepin' lak a lil chile 'stead 
 ob cryin' en wringin' her ban's nobody know whar ! Wen 
 dey gits ter mar'in' my honey en she a bleatin' en a tremlin' 
 like a lamb 'long a wolf dat lickin' he chops ober her, den I 
 say hit's time fer a smash *up. Marsc Scoville look lak he 
 'tect her gin de hull worl'." 
 
 So thought Miss l.ou herself. In her weariness and sense 
 of security she had slept soundly till the light grew distinct, 
 when the birds wakened her. With consciousness memory 
 quickly reproduced what had occurred. She sprang to the 
 window anil peeped through the blinds in time to see 
 
 .< J ISi 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 11 
 
 
«in 
 
 \S2 
 
 ''MISS LOU.'' 
 
 V\ 
 
 i; 
 
 iiil 
 
 Scoville rise from his bivouac and tlirovv aside his blanket. 
 Witii a soldier's promptness he aroused his men and began 
 giving orders, the tenor of one being that a scouting party 
 should i)repare to go out immediately. 
 
 " Oh ! " she sighed, " if I had such a brother what a 
 happy girl I might be ! I don't believe I'd ever care to 
 marry." 
 
 She was far from being a soft-natured, susceptible girl, 
 and while Scoville kindled her imagination and had won her 
 trust, she did not think of him as a lover. Indeed, the very 
 word had become hateful to her, associating it as she did 
 with her cousin and the idea of selfish appropriation. More 
 strongly than any slave on the plantation, she longed for 
 freedom, and the belief that the Union officer understootl 
 her, respecting her rights and feelings, v/on him all the faNor 
 she was then capable of bestowing upon any one. If he 
 had employed his brief opportunity in gallantry and love- 
 making she would have been disgusted. " I never met any 
 one like him," she soliloquized as she hastily dressed. " It's 
 so strange to find one willing I should be a little bit happy 
 in my own way, who is not ' seeking my best welfare,' as 
 uncle says. Welfare, indeed ! As if I couldn't see some 
 wish or scheme of their own back of all they say or ilo ! 
 His dark eyes declare, ' 1 wish you well whether you are 
 useful U) me or not.' Well, I am glad I've known him, 
 whether I ever see him again or not. He has inade my 
 course much clearer." 
 
 The inmates of the mansion as well as those wiUiout were 
 soon busy in their preparations for a day which all felt must 
 be eventful. That the " millenyuni " had not come was 
 soon proved by the commencement of hostilities on the 
 part of Mrs. Baron and Scoville. Tiie latter was approacii- 
 ing the kitchen to interview Ann' Suke when *' ole nliss " 
 a])peared. 
 
were 
 
 must 
 
 was 
 
 In the 
 
 roacii- 
 
 Inllss 
 
 /I WELL-AJMED SLIPPER. 
 
 153 
 
 " Madam," he said, Hfting his hat, " will you kindly di- 
 rect your cook to prepare a breakfast immediately for the 
 wounded ? It should be light as well as nutritious, for some 
 are feverish." 
 
 She paid no more attention to him than if he had not 
 spoken, and entered Aun' Suke's domain. There was a 
 mirthful flash in his dark eyes as he followed her. When 
 she saw him standing in the doorway, her cold stare, more 
 clearly than words, designated him '* intruder." He steadily 
 returned her gaze, and Aun' Suke, who had been shouting 
 over freedom the night before, now had the temerity to 
 quiver in all her vast proportions with amusement. 
 
 " Madam," resumed Scoville, removing his hat, " will you 
 give my orders, or shall I ? " 
 
 " Your orders, sir ! and in my kitchen ! " 
 
 " Certainly, madam, and my orders in this instance are 
 simply the dictates of humanity." 
 
 '• I will see that our men are well *ared for. I am not 
 responsible for the others." 
 
 *' But I am, and all must fare alike. Cook, prepare a 
 nice light breakfast for all the wounded men before you do 
 any thing else." ^ 
 
 " Yes, mars'r, I 'bey you, I sut'ny will." 
 
 Scoville strode away to attend to other duties. Mrs. 
 Baron glared after him and then at Aun' Suke, who at once 
 began her work. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you'll take no more orders 
 from me? " the old lady uslced, in tones of suppressed anger. 
 
 *' Kyant do mo' 'n one ting ter oncet. Ob co'se I git yo' 
 breakfas' v.'hen I kin. Reck'n dough we soon hab ter dis- 
 ergree on my wages. I'se a free ooman." 
 
 " Oh, you are free and I am not. That's the new order 
 of things your Yankee friends would bring about." 
 
 " La now, misus," said matter-of-fact Aun' Suke, again 
 
I 
 
 i' 
 
 154 
 
 MISS LOU.'' 
 
 shaking with niirth at the idea, " you got mo' edication 'n 
 me. Wat de use bein' Win' des on pupposc? Spose you 
 en ole mars'r tell me dat ain' a egg " (holdinfi; one up) : 
 " kyant I see ? Hit's broad sun-up. )¥hy not des look at 
 tings ez dey iz? Sabe a heap ob trouble. Yere, you lil nig- 
 gahs, hep right smart or you neber get yo' breakfas'." 
 
 Mrs. Baron went back to the house looking as if the end 
 of the world had come instead of the millennium. 
 
 In the hall she met her husband and Mrs. Whately, to 
 whom she narrated what had occurred. Mr. Baron had 
 settled down into a sort of sullen endurance, and made no 
 answer, but Mrs. Whately began earnesUy : " Our very dig- 
 nity requires that we have no more collisions with a power 
 we cannot resist. Even you, sister, must now see that you 
 gain nothing and change nothing. We can be merely pas- 
 sive in our hostility. The only course possible for us is to 
 endure this ordeal patiently and then win Louise over to our 
 wishes." • 
 
 Miss Lou, who was dusting the parlor, stole to the farther 
 end of the apartment and rattled some ornaments to warn 
 them of her i)resence. Siie smiled bitterly as she muttered, 
 " Our wishes ; mine will never be consulted." 
 
 Mrs. Whately entered the parlor and kissed her niece 
 affectionately. She did not like the girl's expression and the 
 difficulty of her task grew clearer. Neverthele;..j, her heart 
 was more set on the marriage than ever before, since her 
 motives had been strengthened by thought. That her son 
 was bent upon it was one of the chief considerations. " If I 
 obtain for him this prize," she had reasoned, *' he must see 
 that there is no love like a mother's." 
 
 Miss Lou, also, had been unconsciously revealing her na- 
 ture to the sagacious matron, who felt the girl, if won, would 
 not become a pretty toy, soon wearying her son by insipiflity 
 of character. " I know better," the lady thought, "than to 
 
A WELL-AIMED SL/I'J'Eh'. 
 
 155 
 
 n n 
 you 
 ip): 
 k at 
 nig- 
 
 end 
 
 ly, to 
 
 had 
 le no 
 i dig- 
 power 
 at you 
 y pas- 
 i is to 
 to our 
 
 farther 
 ) warn 
 tiered, 
 
 niece 
 md the 
 Ir heart 
 Ice her 
 
 |ier son 
 ''If I 
 
 liist see 
 
 her na- 
 
 would 
 
 ^ipidity 
 
 than to 
 
 agree with brotlierand sister that Louise is merely wilful and 
 perverse." Feeling that she was incapable of controlling 
 her son, she would be glad to delegate this task to the one 
 who had the most influence over him and who best prom- 
 ised to maintain it. She was not so blind in her indulgence 
 as helpless in it from long habit. She thought that as a 
 wife the girl would not only hold her own, but also do much 
 towards restraining her son in his wild tendencies ; but she 
 gave no weight to the consideration often in Miss Lou's mind, 
 " I do not see why every thing and everybody should exist 
 for Cousin Mad's benefit." 
 
 Mrs. Whately secretly approved of Scoville's orders in 
 regard to tlie wounded, but did not so express herself, re- 
 solving not to come into collision again with her relatives 
 unless it was essential. She now went out and assisted the 
 surgical trooper in dressing the men's injuries. Miss Lou 
 had learned that breakfast would be delayed, and so decided 
 to satisfy her hunger partially at Aun' Jinkey's cabin. The 
 excitements of the preceding day had robbed her of all 
 appetite, but now she was ravenous. Her estrangement 
 from her uncle and aunt was so great that she avoided them, 
 having a good deal of the child's feeling, " I won't speak till 
 they make up first." 
 
 'J'he old negress heard her rapid steps and looked out 
 from her door. " O mammy," cried the girl, " I'm that 
 hungry I could almost eat you, and I don't know when we'lj,. 
 have breakfast." 
 
 "You des in time, den, honey. Come right in." 
 
 But Miss Lou paused at the door in embarrassment, for 
 Scoville had risen from the table and was advancing to meet 
 her ** Ciood-morning. Miss Baron," he said. *' Aunt Jinkey 
 and Chunk have prepared m( a capital breakfast, and I should 
 be only too delighted to share it. I niiist be in the saddle 
 soon and so availed mvself of the first chance for a meal. 
 
Ill' 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 156 
 
 "J//.V.V LOi^. 
 
 Please (]o not hesitate, for it will probably be my only 
 opportunity of saying good-by." 
 
 " Par now, honey, sit right down. VA Marse Scoville ain' 
 (jiiality den I (Uxin know inn." 
 
 "Miss Baron," cried Scoville, laughing, "Aunt Jinkey has 
 raised a point now which you alone can settle — the question 
 of my (]uality." 
 
 " About the same as my own, I reckon," said the girl, 
 sitting down witli rosy cheeks. *' Ann' Jinkey is evid^'ntly 
 your ally, for she has put her invitation in a form which I 
 could not decline without hurting the feelings of" — 
 
 " Your sincere and grateful friend," interrui)ted the officer. 
 
 " Uncle and aunt would think 1 was comn^.itting an un- 
 heard-of indiscretion." 
 
 " But ^7;r you ? " 
 
 " I'm too hungry to discuss the question now," she 
 answered, laughing. " Do let us hasten, for such cA/ friends 
 should not part with their mouths full." 
 
 " Well, hit des does my ole heart good ter see you sittin* 
 dar, Miss Lou. I'se po'ful glad yo'jnouf's full ob breakfas' 
 en dat yo' eyes ain' full ob tears, ^^"at we projeckin' 'bout 
 yistidy?" 
 
 " Now, Ann' Jinkey, just keep still. I can't show becom- 
 ing sentiment on any subject except pones and such coffee 
 as I have not tasted for a long time." 
 
 " Hit Vankee coffee." 
 
 " I drink your health in my one contribution," cried 
 Scoville. " Never mind, aunty, wc''l be jolly over it aH the 
 same. I agree with you. It's u-orth a month's pay to see 
 Miss Baron happy and hungry. I'd like to know who has a 
 better right. Aunt Jinkey's told me how you protected her. 
 That was fine. You'd make a soldier." 
 
 " Oh, please stop such talk, both of you. I'm ridiculously 
 unlike the heroines in uncle's library. Lieutenant, please 
 
// ii'/-:/./-.iL]f/-:/) .s/./zvAA'. 
 
 •57 
 
 3nly 
 ain' 
 
 J has 
 
 girl, 
 cnlly 
 ich I 
 
 fficer. 
 n nn- 
 
 ' she 
 r lends 
 
 sitluV 
 
 •akfas' 
 
 I' 'bout 
 
 lecom- 
 coltce 
 
 (nled 
 laH the 
 
 to see 
 h has a 
 
 xl her. 
 
 lulously 
 j)lease 
 
 don't say * Ha ! the hour ha:- come and \vc must part, per- 
 haps forever.' 1 won't have any forever. Uncle Lusthah 
 has insured you gray hairs, and if you don't come and see 
 us before they're <^ray, Aun' Jinkey and I will believe all 
 uncle says about the Yankees." 
 
 " And so you ought," said Scoville. " Oh, I'll come back 
 to breakfast with you again, if I have to come on crutches. 
 Well, I must go. There is Chunk with the horses. Kven 
 now I'm keeping one ear open for a shot from that hasty 
 cousin of yours." 
 
 At this reference she looked grave and rose from the table. 
 *' Lieutenant," she said, taking his proffered hand, *' please 
 do not think me a giddy child nor an unfeeling girl. I </o 
 thank you. I do wish you well just as you wish me well — 
 for your own sake. Oh, it seems suc:h a blessed thing for 
 l)eople to feel simple, honest good- will towards one another, 
 without having some scheme back of it all." 
 
 'Well, Miss Karon, if I had a chance I'd soon prove that 
 I too had a scheme. The chief point in it would be to keep 
 all trouble out of the eyes that looked on me so kindly when 
 I came to my senses in this cabin. Heaven bless your good, 
 kind heart ! Promise me one thing." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 ** If your cousin comes soon there may be a sharp fight. 
 Keep out of danger. I could never be myself again if my 
 coming here should result in injury to you." 
 
 " As far as my curiosity will permit I will try to keep out 
 of the way. I've seen so little in my short life that I must 
 make the most of this brief opportunity. In a day or so you 
 may all beggone, and then the old humdrum \\k'. will begin 
 
 agam. 
 
 \ 
 
 *' Yes, we may all be gone before night. Your chief danger 
 then will be from the stragglers which follow the army like 
 vultures. If possible, I will induce the general to leave a 
 
 ifr.K\ 
 
li 
 
 ip 
 
 I'! 
 
 ) 
 
 i*:i 
 
 i 
 
 158 
 
 M/SS LOUr 
 
 guard to-night. I wish >Tr. Baron had a clearer eye to his 
 interests and s. fety. The general is not lamb-like. If <i 
 guard can be procured for to-night it will be due to your 
 actior and my rei^resentations. My services as a scout have 
 brought me in rather clo::e contact with the general, and 
 possibly I may induce him to give protection as long as the 
 interest of the service permits. All questions will be 
 decided with reference to the main chance ; so, if I seem 
 neglectful, remember I must obey my orders, whatever they 
 are. \\\ ! there's a shot." 
 
 Her hand ached long afterward from his (juick, strong 
 pressure, and then he mounted and was awav at a gallop. 
 Miss Lou hastily returned to the house, but Chunk coolly 
 entered the cabin, saying, " I'se git a bite fer mebbe I ain' 
 yere ter dinner." 
 
 " Reck'n you better be skerce. Chunk, ef Mad Whately 
 comes," said his grandmother, trembling. 
 
 " I knows des w'at ter 'spect fum Mad Whately en fum dat 
 ar oberseer too, but dey fin' me a uggly ole hornet. I got 
 my sting han'y," and he tapped the butt of a revolver in the 
 breast of his coat. Having devoured the remnants of the 
 breakfast he darted out and mounted his horse also. 
 
 Mad Whately was coming sure enough, and like a whirl- 
 wind. He had fallen in with the van of the Confederate 
 advance during the night, and by his representations had 
 induced an early and forced march to The Oaks, i'he vigi- 
 lant Scoville, with his experiences as a scout fresh in his 
 mind, had foreseen this possibility. He had two plans in 
 his mind and was ready to act upon either of them. 
 
 Rushing through the hallway of the mansion from the rear 
 entrance. Miss Lou found her kindred on the veranda. They 
 were too excited and eager to ask where she had been, for the 
 fierce rebel yell had already been raised at the entrance of 
 the avenue. 
 
 / 
 
.•/ WELL- A I. ME J) SllPPER. 
 
 159 
 
 ) his 
 If a 
 your 
 have 
 , and 
 s the 
 11 be 
 seem 
 they 
 
 strong 
 
 gallop. 
 
 coolly 
 
 1 ain' 
 
 ^hately 
 
 urn dat 
 
 I got 
 
 II the 
 of the 
 
 whirl- 
 jderate 
 had 
 
 IS 
 
 le vigi- 
 in his 
 ans in 
 
 -le rear 
 They 
 for the 
 ince of 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed Mr. Baron, '* now we'll see this Yani^ee 
 scum swept away." 
 
 Ai)parently he would have good reason for his exultation. 
 Sct)ville was the last man in the world to fight blindly, and 
 Miss Loa kept her eyes on him. As he sat on his horse, 
 Ni'here he commanded the best view of the advancing enemy, 
 she thought he appeared wonderfully (juiet. Not so his men. 
 They were galloping to the right of the mansion, where there 
 was a grove on rising ground which formed a long ridge 
 stretching away to the northwest. It can readily be guessed 
 that it was vScoville's aim not to be cuj; off from the main 
 Union column by a superior force, and the ridge would 
 enable him to see his enemy before he fought, if he should 
 deem it vvisje to fight at all. He knew that his horses were 
 fresh. If those of the attacking [)arty were somewhat blown 
 he could easily keep out of the way if it were too strong to 
 cope with. He exchanged a few words with the sergeant 
 commanding the scouting i)arty recently sent out, and 
 pointed to the grove with his sabre, then slowly followed 
 with his eye on the enemy. 
 
 Miss Lou was in a fever of apprehension in his behalf, for 
 already shots were fired at him from the Confederates. 
 Suddenly she heard the click of a musket lock just beneath 
 her, and, looking down, saw Perkms levelling a piece at 
 Scoville. Quick as light she drew off her slipper and 
 dashed it into the man's face as he fired. By reason of his 
 disconcerted aim the bullet flew harmlessly by the Union 
 officer, who gave a cjuick, stern glance towards his assailant, 
 recognized him, and galloped after his men. ^ 
 
 " You vile murderer ! " cried Miss Lou, ** would you shoot 
 a man in his back?" 
 
 "Oh, come, Perkins, that's hardly the thing, no matter 
 wiiat your provocation," Mr. Baron added. 
 
 Perkins bestowed a malignant glance on Miss Lou, then 
 
 
 
 
i6o 
 
 'A//SS AOU. 
 
 ■Ill 
 
 '' I 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 ! I 
 
 limped away, wearing a sullen look. The officer in com- 
 mand of the Confederates sheered off across the lawn towards 
 the grove, and the girl quickly saw that his force greatly out- 
 numbered that of Scoville. Mad VVhatcly dashed up to the 
 piazza steps and asked breathlessly, "Are you all safe?" 
 
 " Yes," cried his mother. " Thank Ciod ! I sec you are 
 safe lo.'' 
 
 He U)r\y ' his eyes on his cousin, but in her cold, steady 
 gaze i< !, (I 1.0 encouragement. With something like an 
 oath, he turned a^l galloped after the attacking force. 
 
 But Scoville did not wait to be attacked. He continued 
 with his men along the ridge, retreating rapidly when 
 pressed, pausing when pursuit slackened. The officer in 
 command soon remarked to Whately, " We are using up our 
 horses to no purpose, and we shall need them for more 
 important work later in the day." 
 
 Therefore he sounded recall and retired on the mansion, 
 Scoville following, thus proving that he was governed by 
 other motives than fear. Indeed, he was in a very genial 
 frame of mind. He had got all his men off safely, except 
 two or three laggards, and had already sent swift riders to 
 inform his general of the situation. Knowing that the tables 
 would soon be turned, he was (|uite content that he had not 
 made an obstinate and useless resistance, '* What's more," 
 he thought, " Miss Lou would not have kept out of danger. 
 It isn't in her nature to do so. Miss Lou ! I wish I might 
 call her that some day and then drop the Miss. One thing 
 is clear. If I meet that cousin again, he'll show me no 
 quarter. So I must look out for him and that assassin of an 
 overseer, too. She called him by his right name, the brave 
 little girl ! No needl)f asking me to come back, for I'd go 
 to the ends of the earth to see her again." 
 
 If he had known how her presence of mind and swift 
 action had in all probability saved his life, his feelings would 
 
./ WEI.I.-AIMED SrjPPER. 
 
 Irti 
 
 om- 
 ards 
 out- 
 ^ the 
 
 .1 lire 
 
 teady 
 ^e an 
 
 ;inued 
 
 when 
 cer in 
 Lip our 
 
 more 
 
 msion, 
 led by 
 genial 
 except 
 Icrs to 
 ; tables 
 \ad not 
 more," 
 :langer. 
 might 
 e thing 
 me no 
 [,n of an 
 |e brave 
 I'd go 
 
 have been far more vivid, while his belief in the luck of 
 throwing an (jUI shoe would have become one of the tenet- 
 of his faith. Miss Lou went after the extemporized missi'e 
 and put it on again, saying, " 1 have fired my first and lasi 
 shot in this war." 
 
 " It is indeed becoming doubtful on which side you are," 
 answered her uncle sternly. 
 
 " I'm not on the side of that wretch Perkins. Suppose 
 he had succeeded, and Lieutenant Scoville's general came 
 here, what mercy could we expect? ^f IVrkins values his 
 life he had better not be caught." 
 
 " I am glad indeed, Louise, that on , evented such a 
 thing from happening," said Mr? v, tely. "The result 
 might have been very disastrous, anc in any event would 
 have been horrible. It was a br * ensible thing to do, 
 and you will find that Madison will think so, too." 
 
 Mad Whately, however, was in any thing but a judicial 
 mood. 
 
 IkI swift 
 ts would 
 
J 62 
 
 "il//^6- LOU.'' 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A GIRL S AI'PEAL. 
 
 y-X- 1 
 
 N 
 
 MISS LOU was too well acquainted with her cousin not 
 to recognize evidences of almost ungovernable rage 
 during the brief moment he had paused at the veranda. 
 She looked significantly at his mother, whose face was pale 
 and full of an apprehension now uncalled for, since the 
 prospect of an immediate battle had passed away. '* She is 
 afraid of hmi herself, her own son, and yet she would marry 
 me to him," the girl thought bitterly. 
 
 Miss Lou was mistaken. Her aunt had fears o\\\y for her 
 son, knowing how })rone he was to rash, headlong action 
 when almost insane from passion. The girl, however, was 
 elated and careless. She justly exulted in the act by which 
 she had baffled the vengeance of Perkins, and she had 
 ceased to have the anxieties of a bitter Southern partisan. 
 Such she would have been but for her alienation from those 
 identified with the cause. She was capable of the most 
 devoted loyalty, but to whom should she give it ? If a lov- 
 ing father or brother had been among the Confederates, 
 there would have been no question. Now she was sorely 
 •perplexed in her feelings, for the South was represented by 
 tiiose bent upon doing her a wrong at which her very soul 
 revolted, and the North by one who had satisfied her sense 
 of right and justice, who, more than all, had warmed her 
 heart by kindness. The very friendliness of the negroes 
 inclined her to take their part almost involuntarily, so deep 
 
 
// r;/A7.\S Am At., 
 
 tr, 
 
 was the rniving of her cliilkd iiatmc tor ^lyiupalliy. It she 
 had been brought uj) in loving dependence she would woK. 
 have been so well ecjuipped lor the cliaoti*- emergency. 
 Having no hope of good counsel from natural ad\ isers, she 
 did not waste a moment in seekmg it, or weakly hesitate for 
 its lack. What her bright, active mind suggested as right 
 and best, that she was ready to do mstantly. Now that she 
 had gained freedom she would keep it at all hazards. 
 
 When the Confederate officers api)roached the house, she 
 was glad to observe that her cousin was not chief in com- 
 mand. 
 
 Mr. Baron went down upon the lawn to meet the officers, 
 and, after a brief parley, Major Urockton, the senior in 
 command, began to dispose of his men for a little lest and 
 refreshment, })romising to join the family soon in the 
 dining-room. Miss Lou, unasked, now aided in the prepa- 
 rations for the morning meal. Fearing Ann' Suke would get 
 herself in trouble, she ran to the kitchen and told the old 
 cook to comply with all demands as best she could. She 
 had scarcely spoken when Mrs. ]}aron enteied. Casting a 
 severe look on her niece, she asked Aun' Suke, " Will you 
 obey me now ? Will you tell me you are a free woman now ? " 
 
 " My haid in a whirl aready, misus. Ef you wants me ter 
 I km cook, but I kyant keep track ob de goin's on." 
 
 *' I can," replied the indomitable old lady, " and I can 
 keep a good memory of the behavior of all on the planta- 
 tion." 
 
 " You can't govern much longer by fear, aunt," said Miss 
 Lou. " Had you not better try a little kindness? " 
 
 " What has been the result of all the years of kindness 
 bestowed upon you? " was the indignant answer. 
 
 " I only meant that it might be well to bestow a little of 
 what other people regard as kindness. I had asked Aun' 
 Suke to do her best and am sure she will." 
 
ir,4 
 
 'M//.S.V /Y>r. " 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
 .-I 
 
 m 
 
 '■ ll will be strangf if slu' «l(»cs, when you aiv selling llic 
 i'\.inii>lf of doing yoin worsl. IJnl I am mistress once more, 
 and wish no inlerference." 
 
 " Doan you worry, honey, 'boul we uns," said Aun' Sake 
 (|uietly. '* We yeard de sv\m' funi far away, en we year it 
 agin soon." 
 
 Meanwhile Mad Whately was closeted with his uncle and 
 mother, listening with a black frown to all that had occurred. 
 
 " I tell you," ex<laimed the young man, "it's as clear as 
 the sun in the sky that she should be sent away at once — 
 in fact, that you all should go." 
 
 " I w(jn't go," said Mr. r>aron, "neither will my wife. If 
 the country has come to such a pass that we must die on 
 our hearths we will die right here." 
 
 " Then with my whole authority, mother, I demand that 
 you and my cousin go at once while opportunity still remains. 
 The forces on both sides are concentrating here, and this 
 house may soon be in the midst of a battle. Lou will be 
 exposed to every chance of war. By Heaven ! the girl to be 
 my wife shall not trifle with me longer. O mother ! how 
 could you let her walk and talk alone with that Yankee offi- 
 cer?" 
 
 " I tell you both you are taking the wrong course with 
 Louise," began Mrs. Whately. 
 
 " You never spoke a truer word, auntie," said Miss Lou, 
 entering. 
 
 Stung to the quick, Whately sjjrung ui) and said sternly, 
 " In this emergency I am the head of my family. I com- 
 mand you to be ready within an hour to go away with my 
 mother. Perkins and a small guard will go with you to 
 my cousin's house." 
 
 "Go away with that cowardly wretch, Perkins? Never ! " 
 
 " You are to go away with your aunt and my mother, and 
 you. cannot help yourself. Your readiness to receive atten- 
 
.i (?/A'/:s- .irrEAr.. 
 
 ir>t; 
 
 ore, 
 
 ^uke 
 iir it 
 
 and 
 
 irred. 
 :ar as 
 \cc — 
 
 c. If 
 .lie cm 
 
 id tbat 
 
 -mains. 
 
 nd this 
 will l)c 
 
 rl to be 
 r ! how 
 ee offi- 
 
 rse 
 
 with 
 
 liss Lou, 
 
 sternly, 
 I com- 
 Iwith my 
 you to 
 
 [ever 
 
 ,» 
 
 dier, and 
 ^e atten- 
 
 tions from a miserable Yankee cub shows how little you are 
 to be trusted. I tell you for the honor of our house you 
 shall go away. I'd shoot you rather than have it occur 
 again." 
 
 ** You silly, spoiled, passionate boy ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Lou, rendered self-jjossesscd by the very extravagance of 
 her cousin's anger. "Do you siijjpose I will take either 
 command or counsel from one who is beside himself? 
 Come, Cousin Mad, cool off, or you'll liavc some more 
 repenting at leisure to do." 
 
 She walked ([uietly out of the room to the veranda ju^t as 
 Major Brockton was about to announce liim<«^/ 
 
 *' Miss Baron I presume," he said, doffing liis hat. 
 
 ** Yes, sir. Please sit down. 1 think we shall soon be 
 summoned to breakfast. If the worst comes to tlie worst," 
 she resolved, " I can appeal to this officer for protection." 
 
 " Mother," said Whately in a choking voice, " be ready 
 to go the moment you have your breakfast." 
 
 His passion was so terrible that she made a feint of obey- 
 ing, while he rushed out of the rear dooi. Perkins readily 
 entered into the plan, and gave Whately further distorted 
 information about Miss Lou's recent interview with Scoville. 
 Mrs. Whately's horses were (juickly harnessed to her car- 
 riage, and Perkins drove it near to the back entrance to the 
 mansion. 
 
 As Whately entered his mother i)ut her hand on his arm, 
 and warned, *' Madison, I fear you are ail wrong " — 
 
 " Mother, I will be obeyed at once. The carriage is 
 ready. My own men, who have been paroled, will act as 
 escort. Lou shall go if taken by force." 
 
 " Madison, what can you hope from r^ wiie won by such 
 violence?" 
 
 " She will fear and obey me the rest of iier life. I'd vather 
 die ten thousand deaths than be balke*] after what she. has 
 
 
I )i ' 
 
 i I 
 
 mi 
 
 I 
 
 ir,r) 
 
 'M//.S.S- /.or." 
 
 I 
 
 lii 
 
 'I ■ 
 
 m 
 
 i I 
 
 said. Come, let's go throngh the form of breakfast and 
 then I shall art." 
 
 They found Miss Lou with her uncle, aunt, and Major 
 Krockton already at the table, 'i'he major at once resumed 
 his condolences. " I am very sorry indeed," he said, '• that 
 you ladies are compelled to leave your home." 
 
 " Do you think it wisest and best tiiat we should?" asked 
 Mrs. Whateiy (luickly, hojjing that her niece would feel the 
 force of the older officer's derision. 
 
 ** Ves, madam, I do. I thiiik that the sooner you all are 
 .south of our advance the better. It is possible that a battle 
 may take place on this very ground, although I hone not. 
 As soon as my men have had something to eat I shall follow 
 the Yankees, a course I trust that will bring on the action 
 elsewhere ; but this region will probabh become one of 
 strife and turmoil for a time. It won't last long, however, 
 and if the house is spared I think you can soon return." 
 
 Mrs. Bru-on j)oured the coffee and then excused herself. 
 A few moments later Miss Lou, who was very observant, noted 
 a significant glance from Zany. As the dusky waitress started 
 ostensibly for the kitchen, the young girl immediately fol- 
 lt)wed her. Whateiy hesitated a moment or two, then left 
 the breakfast room also. Hut Zany had had time to whis- 
 per : 
 
 *' O Miss l.ou, Miss Vv'hately's keridge's at de do', en 
 Perkins en sogers wid it. Ole miss in yo' room en " — 
 
 "Quit that," said Whateiy in a low, stern \oice, and Zany 
 scuttled away. 
 
 "Now, tlieii," resumed Whateiy to his cousin, "if you have 
 any dignity or sense left, get ready at once. I can tell you 
 that I'm far past being trilled with jiow." 
 
 • I'll (inish my breakfast lii>i, if )ou please." was tlu 
 »|iiiet response, so (piiet that he was misled, and im.igine(l 
 her will breaking before his purpose. 
 
J 
 
 .-/ (,VA'/:.s .\rPEA[.. 
 
 If)/ 
 
 and 
 
 lajor 
 imcd 
 • tliat 
 
 iskcd 
 ■1 the 
 
 U are 
 battle 
 .^ not. 
 follow 
 action 
 ne of 
 \vcver, 
 
 ic 
 
 rsL'lf. 
 noted 
 lartcd 
 
 V fol- 
 
 n left 
 
 whis- 
 
 ()'. cu 
 
 1 /any 
 
 )\» have 
 •11 von 
 
 as the 
 i.igini.'t.l 
 
 They were scarcely seated at the table again before she 
 startled them all by saying, " Major lirockton, I appeal to 
 you as a Southern gentleman and a Southern officer, for 
 protection." 
 
 "Why, Miss Baron!" exclaimed the major, *' yoi*. fairly 
 take away my breath." 
 
 '■' Little wonder, sir. I have had mine taken away." 
 
 " Louise, you are insane ! " cried Mr. Baron, starting up. 
 
 " Major, yoM can see for yourself that I am not insane, that 
 I have i)erfect self-control. .\s you are a true man I plead 
 with you not to let my cousin send me away. He can only 
 <lo so by force, but I plead with you not to permit it. If I 
 must T will tell you all, but I'd rather not. I am an orphan 
 and so have sacred claims on every true man, and I aj)peal 
 to you. I do not fear any battle that may be fougiu here, 
 but I do fear being sent away, and with good reason." 
 
 "O Louise !" cried Mrs, W'hatcly, with scarlet face, " you 
 place us in a horrible position." 
 
 "Not in so horril/le ;t one as I have l)een placed, and 
 which I will not risk again, (lod is my witness." 
 
 Major Hro( kton looked very grave, for he was acquainted 
 with Whately's recklessness. 'I'he young man himself wa,% 
 simply speechless from rage, l)ut Mr. Barton si)rung up and 
 said sternly, " Vou shall hear the whole truth, sir. It can ()e 
 quickly told, and then you can judge wlu-ther I, as guardian, 
 am capable of roimtenancing any filing unwarranted by the 
 highest sense of honor. This girl, my niece, has been virtually 
 betrothed to her cousin since childliood. I and her aimts 
 deemed it wisest and safest, in view of dangers threatening 
 the direst evils, that she should be married at once and 
 escorted by my sister and her son to the house of a relatire 
 residing further south. First and last, we were considering 
 her interests, and above all, her safetv. That's all." 
 
 "No, it is not all," •ried Miss Luu, with a passionate 
 
 ,A fl 
 
 % .? 
 3 
 
 m 
 
 I'M 
 
T- H'riiiiiiii 
 
 W i 
 
 ; I 
 I 
 
 1 68 
 
 'M//.S-.V Lor 
 
 pathos in her voire which touched the major's heart. 
 " Would you, sir, force a girl, scarcely more than a child, 
 to marry a man when you knew that she would rather die 
 first ? Safety ! What would I care for safety after the worst 
 had happened? I will not be married like a slave girl. I 
 will not go aw.iy to Lieutenant Whately's relations unless 
 I am taken hy force." 
 
 "(Ireat (lod, sir, that I should hear a Southern girl make 
 such an appeal," said Major Brockton, his fiice dark with 
 indignation. "We are jusUy proud of the respect we show 
 to oiir women, and who more entitled to respect than this 
 orphan girl, scarcely more than a child, as she says herself, 
 (lood Heaven ! \\hately, could you not have protected 
 your cousin as you would your sister? Vou say, sir" (to 
 Mr. Baron) " that she was betrothed from < hildhood. She 
 didn't betroth herself in childhood, ilid she? Believe me, 
 Miss Baron, no one has the power to force you into mar- 
 riage, although your kindred should use all means, wliile you 
 are so young, to prevent an unworthy alliance." 
 
 " I had no thought of marriage, sir, until terrified by my 
 cousin's purpose and my family's urgency but a day since. 
 I am willing to pay them all resjjcct and deference if they 
 will treat me as if I had some rights and feelings of my own. 
 My only wish is a little of the freedom which I feel a girl 
 should enjoy when as old as I am. I detest and fear tiic 
 man whom my ( ousin has selecteil to take ine away. I do 
 not fear a battle. 'I'hey all ca«i tell you that I stood on the 
 piaz/a when builds were Hying. I only ask and plead that 
 I may stay in su( h a home as I have. My old mammy is 
 here and " — 
 
 . "Well," ejaculaleil the maj<vr, ''have yon n** stronger lie 
 than that of a slave mannny in y(»ur home? * 
 
 *' I do not wish to be unjust, sir. 1 try to think my aunt 
 and uncle mean well by me, but they can't seem to rcali/e 
 

 A G/A'/:s Am:. 1 1., 
 
 169 
 
 )>• my 
 since. 
 
 I hey 
 
 own. 
 a t^irl 
 ar the 
 
 I iV^ 
 • 11 the 
 il that 
 
 iny is 
 
 L;er tie 
 
 ) aunt 
 nah/.e 
 
 that I have any rights v/luitever. As for my cousin, he has 
 always had what he wanted, and now he wants me." 
 
 "That is natural enough ; but let him win you, if he can, 
 like a Southern gentleman. lieutenant Whately, I order 
 you to your duty. Mr. Haron, if you wish to send your 
 ladies away and go with them, I will furnish an escort. Any 
 Southern home beyond the field of hostilities will be open 
 to you. Acquaint me with your decision," and he bowed 
 and strode away. 
 
 Kven tlie most prejudiced and blind are compelled at 
 times by an unhesitating and impartial opinion to see things 
 somewhat in their true liglit. Long-cherish.eil purposes and 
 Iiabits of thought in regard to Miss Lou, then panic, and 
 strong emotions mixed with good and evil, had brought tiie 
 girl's relatives into their present false relations to her. After 
 the scene at the attempted wedding, Mrs. Whately would have 
 returned to safe and proper ground, hoi)ing still to win jjy 
 kindness and coaxing. She had learned that Miss Loti was 
 not that kind of girl, who more or less reluctantly could 
 l.v' urged into marriage and thiMi make the best of it as a 
 matter of course. This fact only made her the more eager 
 for the union, because by means of il she hoped to secure a 
 balance-wheel for her sou. Hut the blind, i)bslinate ))er- 
 sistence on the part of the Harons in their habitual attkude 
 towartls their niece, and now her son's action, liad |)la( ed 
 then) all in a most humiliating liglTt. I'-ven Mr. IJaron, who 
 had always been so infallible in his autocratic ways and 
 beliefs, knew not how to answer the elderly major. Whately 
 himself, in a revulsion of feeling common to his nature, felt 
 that his cousin had been right, and that a miserable sj)ace 
 for rejK'ntance was before him, not so nuich for the wrong 
 lie had ])uri)osed. as for the' w«iful unwisdom of his ta< tics 
 and their ignominious failun*. His Ir.iining as a soldier leil 
 him to obey without a word, 
 
 
 i> 
 
 i ,« 
 
naiiiii 
 
 MM 
 
 ! ( 
 
 i I 
 
 i| 
 
 
 170 
 
 ".W.V.V LOur' 
 
 Miss Loii was magnanimous in her victory. " Cousin 
 Madison," she said earnestly, " why uon't you end thiswickeo 
 nonsense and act like a cousin? As such I have no ill-will 
 towards you, Init I think you and uncle must now see I'll 
 stop at nothing that will keep me from becoming your wife. 
 'I'herc's no use of trying to make me think I'm wrong in my 
 feelings, for I now believe every true man would side with 
 me. Be my cousin and friend and 1 will give you my hand 
 here antl now in good- will." 
 
 Hut his anger was too strong to permit any such sensible 
 action, and he rushed away without a v/ord. 
 
 "Madison!" called his mother. "Oh, I'm just over- 
 whelmed," and she covered her face with her hands and 
 burst into tears. 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Birron in a sort of dreaiv ?pathy, "do 
 you and Louise wish to go away under an ew jrt. furnished 
 by the major?" 
 
 " No," cried Mrs. Whately. " I would "':cept any fate 
 rathcv than favor at his hands. If J coi.Ki out) :<i)l.iin to hini 
 more fully — yet how can I? My soij. with all his faults, is 
 all 1 have to live :ai'. I shall stay near him while I can, for 
 he will be reckless tt)-dav. My heart is just breaking with 
 forebodings, ^)h, !'/l»y ' o^udn't you, with your gray hairs, 
 have shown a little wisdom in helping me restrain him? " 
 
 " I reckon the restraining should have been pnalised long 
 ago," replied her brother irritably. 
 
 " You have practised nothing but restraint in the case of 
 I-ouise, and what is the result?" 
 
 The girl looked at them wonderingly in their abject help- 
 lessness, and then said, " If you are takitig it for granted that 
 I am spoiled beyond remedy, I can't help it. I would have 
 made no trouble if you had not set about making me troubk* 
 without en''. As soon as I cai: I'll go away and take care 
 i)l myself." 
 
A C/ATS APPEAf., 
 
 T' 
 
 " Of course, T,oiiise," said Mrs. Whately, "we're all wrong, 
 you as well as the rest of us. We must try to get this snarl 
 untangled and begin right. The idea of your gouig away ! " 
 
 " I supposed that was the only idea," said Mrs. P.aron, 
 entering. " I, at least, have tried to remedy our niece's pcr- 
 verseness by getting her things ready." 
 
 Mrs. Whately wrung her hands in sometiiing like despair, 
 while Miss Lou burst into a peal of hnjf-nervous laughter at 
 the expression on her uncle's face. " Well," she said, 
 " there'll be no more troul)le as far as I am concerned unless 
 it's of your own making. If I am protected in my home, I 
 shall stay ; if not, I shall leave it. One iearns fast in ei'.ich 
 ordeals as I have passed through. Aunt Sarah, yoi.r sou 
 threatened to shoot me for doing what you jjcrmitted. Sup- 
 pose I had told Major llrockton that? I made allowanc 's 
 for Madison's passion, but unless he learns to control him- 
 self he will have to vent his passion on some (Mie else." 
 
 "She has just lost her senses," gasped Mrs. liuron. 
 
 '• No, we have acted as if we had lost ours," said Mrs. 
 \Vhatcly, rising witli dignity. ** I can'^ reason ^vjth either k){ 
 you any more, for you have made \\\> yo^ir minds that \ spade 
 is not a spade. I shall tell my niece tliat hewafte • i shall 
 treat her kindly and rationally, and then go home," and she 
 k'fl husband and wife confronting en< ither. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" ask- the wife. 
 
 "Do !" exploded the hus])and in desperation, "vhy, luuup 
 myself and restore every thing in a .winkling as it was live 
 years ago. What else can T do?" 
 
 ICven Mrs. liaron was speechU .s at this admission that 
 events had now passed tar beyond his control. 
 
 
 I. 
 
 -4- 
 
172 
 
 j/As.v i.orr' 
 
 \ i 
 
 cHAin'i<:R XX. 
 
 SCOVILLKS HOl'K. 
 
 i ' 1 
 
 i|il 
 
 :!i 
 
 MRS. WIIATRLV fouml her niece on the veranda 
 watchinjj; the jjroceedin'^s without, and she lost no 
 time in expressing her puri)ose. To her surprise, a pair of 
 arms were around hi r neck instantly, and a kiss was pressed 
 u]K)n her lii)s. 
 
 "That's my answer," said Miss I-ou, who was as ready to 
 forgive and forget as a ( hild. *'If you say a word about 
 going home I shall he unhappy. See, auntie, the Yankees 
 are retreating again as cur men advance." 
 
 The morning sun was now shining brightly and the day 
 growing very warm. IJefore them was the scene of military 
 operations. At present, it a'Vordjd a deeply exi iting spei> 
 tacle, yet opj)ressed with no sense of jHMSonal danger. 
 .Scoviile's littl'j for<:e was slowly retiring along the ridge 
 wliich the Confederates were appntaching, thus removing 
 the theatre of artual conllit^t from the vicinity of the dwelling. 
 
 Mr. Baron appeared on the veranda and soon began to 
 yield to the soothing influences of his [)ipe. It was not in 
 Iiis nature to make any formal acknowledgments of error, 
 but he felt that he had gone on the wrong track far and long 
 enough, and so was ready for a gradual amelioration in his 
 relations to his niece and sister. They had become too 
 absorbrd in the scene lH'ft)re them to think of mu( h else, 
 while .\lr^. Haron sought (on^posure and sohicc; in her 
 domestic affairs, 
 
scar////- 's /forii. 
 
 / "> 
 
 veranda 
 lost no 
 pair of 
 pressed 
 
 eady to 
 d al)OUt 
 ^'ankees 
 
 I he day 
 military 
 ^ spee- 
 danger. 
 e ridge 
 moving 
 welling, 
 gan to 
 not in 
 error, 
 
 I I 
 
 long 
 
 11 his 
 
 lie too 
 
 li i-lse. 
 
 ill her 
 
 At Hast Mrs. Wliately said, "The Yankees appear to have 
 stoppe 1 retreating and to be in( reasing in numbers. Alas ! 
 I fear our men are in great danger and that the main colinnn 
 of the enemy is near." 
 
 There was a sudden outbreak of cries and exclamations 
 from the negroes in the rear of the mansion. Zany rushetl 
 out, saying, " 1 )e Yanks comin' by Ann' Jinkey's cabin." 
 
 She had scarcely spoken before they 'u'ard a rush of 
 trampling steeds and the head of a Union column swe^)! 
 lound the house. Miss Lou saw Scoville leading and knew 
 that he had availed himself of his ac(|uaintance with the 
 place to guide an attack upon the Confederates in their rear. 
 He saluted her with his sabrc' and smiled as he passed, but 
 her sympathies were with the major, now taken at such dis- 
 ailvantage. At this period the troops on b(;th sides were 
 veterans, and neither fought nor ran away without good 
 reason. Major IJrockton knev as well what to do as had 
 Scoville before him, and retreated at a gallop with his men 
 towards the southwest, whence his supports were advancing. 
 The Union attack, however, had been something of a sur- 
 prise and a number of the Confederates were cut off. 
 
 I'he scene and event had been one to set every nerve 
 tingling. liut a few yards away the Union force had rushed 
 by like a living torrent, the groun<l trembling under the iron 
 tread of the iiorses. Far more impressive had been the 
 near vision of the fierce, bron/ed faces of the trooj^ers, their 
 eyes gleaming like their sabres, with the excitement of battle. 
 S<oville won her admiration unstintedly, even though she 
 dejjrefated his jiuritose. Ids bearing was so fearless, so 
 jaunty even in its [)ower, that he seemed as brave as any 
 knight in the old-fashioned n)mances she had read, yet so 
 real and genial that it was hard to believe he was facing 
 death that smmy morning or bi'ut njion IuHk ting it. Look- 
 ing at his young, smiling, tan In-e lace, one could easily 
 
 
ill 
 
 7\ 
 
 'M//.S.V /or.'' 
 
 iii I 
 
 \ : 
 
 Mii.igiin^ tli.tl Ik- wiii, taking part in a wulitary pageant , l)iit 
 the l»ca«ll()ng career and llashing weapons of his men, who 
 deployed as they charged straight at the (,'onfederates, 
 (hspclled any such iUusion. 
 
 The ritlge l)egan to grow black with L^nion men and Miss 
 Lou soon perceived the gleam of artillery as the guns were 
 placed in i)ositiGn. Mr. Baron, who had permitted his pipe 
 to go out in the excitement, groaned, "The Yanks have 
 < ome in force and are forming a line of battle yonder. If 
 our troops ( ome up, the fight will take place on my land. 
 Lord help us ! What's coming next?" 
 
 Miss Lou began to receive impressions whi< h filled her 
 with awe. Heretofore she had been intensely excited by 
 what had been mere skirmishes, but now she witnessed prepa- 
 rations for a battle. That long line of dark blue on the ridge 
 portended something more terrible than she could imagine. 
 The sounds of conflict died away down the main road, the 
 ring of axes was heard in the grove which crowned the ridge 
 near the mansion, and Mr. Baron groaned again. Thin curls 
 of smoke began to defuie the Union position — before noon 
 thousaiiils of coflee-pots were simmering on the fires. 
 
 :\t last, a tall man, followed l)y a little group of officers 
 and a stpiadron of cavalry, rode down the ridge .owards the 
 mansion. These troopers surrounded the house, forming 
 one circle near and another much further away, so that none 
 ( ould approacli without causing prompt alarm. The group 
 of officers dismounted and orderlies held their horses. As 
 the tall man came up the veranda steps Miss Lou saw two 
 wiiiie stars on his shoulder. Then her uncle advanced 
 lelui lantly and this man said, ** Mr. Baron, I presume?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " My name is Marston, coumumding officer. This is my 
 ^taff. Will you oblige us by as good a meal as can be pro- 
 vided hastily? 1 will pay for it." 
 
sco\'n.i.ivs iropi'\ 
 
 J 75 
 
 I ; but 
 n, who 
 
 [crates, 
 
 II Miss 
 IS were 
 is pipe 
 LS have 
 er. If 
 y land. 
 
 led her 
 ited by 
 I prepa- 
 re ridge 
 magine. 
 
 ad, the 
 le ridge 
 
 in curls 
 re noon 
 
 officers 
 rds the 
 forming 
 
 l.tt none 
 group 
 
 |es. As 
 iaw two 
 [vanccd 
 
 is my 
 )e pro- 
 
 " No, sir, yon cannot pay for it," replied Mr. Baron indig- 
 nantly. " I keep a house of entertainment (jnly for my 
 friends. At the same time I kn(nv your request is e(|uiva- 
 lent to a command, and we will do the best we can." 
 
 '' Very well, sir. I can repay you in a way that will be 
 satisfactory to my mind and be more advantageous to you. 
 Hartly, tell the officer in command to permit no depreda- 
 tions. Ladies, your servant," and the general dropped into 
 a chair as if weary. 
 
 Some of the younger officers promptly sought to play 
 the agreeable to Mrs. Whately and her niece, and upon the 
 latter all eyes rested in undisguised admiration, (.'old and 
 sliy as she had ai)peared, she had not failed to note the fact. 
 The woman was sufficiently developed within her for this, 
 and the (piick, unanimous verdict of these strangers and 
 enemies in regard to herself which she read in their eyes 
 ( ame with almost the force of a revelation. For the first 
 time, she truly became conscious of her beauty and its 
 l)ower. More than ever, she exulted in her escape and 
 freedom, thinking, "What a poor figure is Cousin Mad be- 
 sitle these men whose faces are so full of intelligence ! " 
 
 Mrs. Whately was the perfection of dignified courtesy, but 
 ijuickly excused herself anil niece on the plea of hastening 
 l)reparations. She was one who could not extentl even en- 
 forced hospitality bereft of its grace, and she also explained 
 to Miss lyou, " We had much better gain their good-will 
 than their ill-will." 
 
 *' Well, auntie, we must admit that the Yankees have not 
 acted like monsters yet." 
 
 The lady bit her lip, but said after a moment, " I sup- 
 l)ose gentlemen are much the same the world over. Thus 
 far it has been our good fortune to have met with such only. 
 There is another class, however, from which (lod defend 
 usl" 
 
 H ■ 
 
 I 
 
 »?» 
 
 sM 
 
ilill 
 
 II 
 
 h ' 
 
 I 
 I ■ 
 
 \ 
 
 lyC) 
 
 'M//.V.V /or' 
 
 riciilcnanl S(()vilU' adiiiiltc'd that, Iiinisclf. So thcro 
 
 is on our side 
 
 men like I'erkins. 
 
 " No, I mean Yankee officers who have at least permitted 
 the worst wrongs in many parts of our Mnhapj)y land." 
 
 *' Well," thought Miss Lou, as she helped /any set the 
 tal)le, " after my ex})erien(:e I shall believe what T see. 
 What's more, I mean to see the world before I die and 
 judge of every thing for myself. Now if the general on our 
 side, with his staff, will only come to sui)i»t'r, I shall get (piite 
 an education in one dav." 
 
 Mrs. Ik 
 
 .'tired to Ik 
 
 (1 
 
 d hi 
 
 )th 
 
 room 
 whatever to do with her present guests, but Aun' Suke did 
 not need her orders now, nor did any of her assistants. 
 
 Chunk had again returned to his haunts and had made 
 havoc in the p<)ultry yard. Now he worked like a beaver, 
 meantime enjoining Ann' Suke *' ter sabe de j)lumpest 
 chicken ob de lot fer my IJoss. Nfarse Scoville brung *em 
 all yere, you knows. Hi I but we uns had ter git out sud'n 
 dough (lis mawnin'." 
 
 " Does you tink de Linkuni men git druv off agin? " 
 
 " How you talks ! Ann' Suke. Hi ! 1 )ruv off ! Why, de 
 ridge des black wid um — anuff ter eat Mad Whately en all 
 he men alibe. Dey des ridin' troo de kintry freein' we 
 uns." 
 
 " Well, I hopes I kin stay free till night, anyhow," said 
 Aun' .Suke, i)ausing in her work to make a dab at a little 
 darky with her wooden spoon sceptre. Firs' Marse Scoville 
 whirl in en say I free ; den old miss whirl in en say I ain' ; 
 now comes de gin'ral ob de hull lot en I'se free agin. W'ats 
 mo', de freer I git de harder I has ter wuk. My haid gwine 
 roun' lak dat ar brass rewster on de l)arn, wen' de win' blow 
 norf en souf ter oncet." 
 
 " No mattah 'bout yo' haid, Aun' Suke. 1 )at ain' no 
 'count. Hit's yo' ban's dat de gin'ral want busy." 
 
sco]'n.i.E'y HOPE. 
 
 ^77 
 
 rniitlfd 
 
 M 
 
 set the 
 1 sec. 
 (lie and 
 I on our 
 ;et (inite 
 
 nothing 
 ^ukc (li<l 
 nts. 
 
 iul ma(k 
 1 beaver, 
 |)lunii)est 
 >rung 'em 
 
 )ut siul'n 
 
 ? " 
 
 Why, de 
 
 ;ly en all 
 
 treein' we 
 
 low," said 
 il a little 
 Y Scoville 
 lay I ain' ; 
 h. Wats 
 (lid gwine 
 Iwin' blow 
 
 t ain' no 
 
 "No mattah 'bout my haid, eh? Tek dat on yo'n den," 
 and she cra« ked Chunk's skull sharply. 
 
 " Dat's right, Aun' Suke, keep de flies away," remarked 
 ('hunk {|uietly. " You git all de freedom you wants cf you 
 does ez I sez." 
 
 " Mo'n I wants ef I've got ter min' ev'ybody, eben dem 
 vv'at's neber growed up." 
 
 " I des step ter de gin'rai en say you hai) dejections 'bout 
 cookin' he dinner. Den I tell 'im ter order out a char'ot 
 ter tek you ter glory." 
 
 " G'lang ! imperdence," said Aun' Suke, resuming her 
 duties. 
 
 " I^ ! .'Vun' Suke," spoke up Zany, wiio had been listening 
 for a moment, • doan yer know Chunk de boss ob de hull 
 bizness? H<' des pickin' chickens now ter let de gen'ral 
 res' a while. Himeby. he git on he hoss en lead de hull 
 Linkum army wid yo' wooden spoon." 
 
 Chunk started for her, but the fleet-footetl girl was soon 
 l)ark in the dining-room. 
 
 When the early dinner was almost reaily Mr. Haron said 
 to his sister, 
 
 ** Surely, there's no reason why you ami Louise should 
 a])pear." 
 
 " Very good reason, brother. I shall make these Northern 
 officers feel that they have eaten salt with us and so are 
 l)ound to give us their protection. Moreover, I wish to gain 
 every particle of information that I can. It may be useful 
 to our general when he appears. Bring out your wine and 
 brandy, for they loosen tongues." 
 
 It soon became eviilent, however, that (leneral Mnrston 
 and his staff felt in no need of Dutch courage, and were too 
 plainly aware of their situation to confuse their minds with 
 their host's licjuor even if they were so inclined. The gen- 
 ira! was serious, somewhat j)reoccupied, but courteous, 
 
 I -3 
 
 m 
 
 5 ^ 
 
■>%. 
 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 y 
 
 /// 
 
 M/. 
 
 / 
 
 o 
 
 fj. 
 
 *' Ms'. 
 
 
 & 
 
 :/. 
 
 '^ 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 '"IIIM IIM 
 
 ■- !■■ Ill 2.2 
 la 1^ ^ 
 
 t. ■;£ 
 
 1.4 
 
 — 6" 
 
 12.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 1.6 
 
 V] 
 
 & 
 
 //, 
 
 
 O 
 
 7 
 
 / 
 
 >!^ 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sdences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 

 te 
 
 m 
 
 t 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 L\ 
 
 >> 
 
 % 
 
jlM 
 
 fi 
 
 hi 
 
 ii I 
 
 I 
 
 • f I I'll If 
 
 178 
 
 "y7//S'.V /.or/."* 
 
 especially to Miss Lou, on whom his eyes often rested kindly. 
 At last he said, 
 
 " I have a little girl at home about your age and with your 
 blue eyes. I'd give a good deal to see her to-day." 
 
 '■' I think, sir, you are glad that she is not where I am to- 
 day," Miss Lou ventured to answer. 
 
 " Yes, that's true. 1 hope no harm will come to you, my 
 child, nor will there if we can help it. I know what claims 
 you have upon us and would be ])roud indeed if my daughter 
 would behave as you have in like circumstances. I have 
 travelled the world over, Mrs. ^V'hately, and have never seen 
 the equal of the unperverted American girl." 
 
 " I certainly believe that true of SouUiern girls, general," 
 was the matron's reply, although she (lushed under a con- 
 sciousness of all that Scoville might have reported. • 
 
 " Pardon me, madam, but you are in danger of perverting 
 the minds of Southern girls with prejudice, a noble kind of 
 prejudice, I admit, because so closely allied with what they 
 regard as patriotism, but narrow and narrowing nevertheless. 
 That old flag yonder means one people, one broad country, 
 and -/"l equally free under the law to think and act." 
 
 " Do you intend to remain in this country and hold it in 
 subjection?" Mrs. Whately asked in smiling keenness. 
 
 " We intend to give the SoutUern people every chance to 
 become loyal, madam, and for one I rest confidendy in their 
 intelligence and sober second thoughts. They have fought 
 bravely for their ideas, but will be defeated. The end is 
 drawing near, I think." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Mr. Baron grimly, " I am sorry you are 
 preparing for some more bloody arguments about our very 
 
 ears 
 
 >> 
 
 " I am also, on account of these ladies ; in other respects, 
 I am not. By night there may be many wounded and dying 
 men. It will be well for them that they do not flill in a wild 
 
SCO vrr l e 'a- nopi'.. 
 
 179 
 
 I kindly, 
 •ith your 
 I am to- 
 
 you, niy 
 at claims 
 
 daughter 
 
 I have 
 
 ever seen 
 
 , general," 
 ler a con- 
 perverting 
 )le kind of 
 what they 
 jvertheless. 
 id country, 
 
 t." 
 
 1 hold it in 
 
 iness. 
 
 / chance to 
 iitly in their 
 ave fought 
 The end is 
 
 Irry you are 
 lut our very 
 
 ler respects, 
 d and dying 
 lall in a wild 
 
 and desolate region like some that we have passed through. 
 As you say, sir, war is an argument, a heated one at times. 
 ]]ut a wounded man is an appeal to all kindly humanity. 
 You would nurse me a little, Miss Ijaron, if I were brought 
 in wounded, would you not?" 
 
 ''Yes, sir, I would, because I feel v.hat you say about a 
 wounded man is true." 
 
 "Oh, I know that," he replied with a very kindly smile. 
 " I hope to tell my little girl about you." Suddenly he be- 
 came grave again and said, " Mr. Baron, you are somewhat 
 isolated here, and may not be so well informed as I am. 
 However the prospective conflict may turn, I cannot remain 
 in this region. IVlany of our wounded may be left. Do 
 not delude yourself, sir, nor, if you can helj) it, permit your 
 friends to be deluded by the belief, or even hope, that our 
 forces will not soon control this and all other parts of the 
 land. While I trust that humanity will lead to every effort 
 to assuage suffering and save life, I must also warn you that 
 strict inquisition will soon be made. There is nothing that 
 we resent more bitterly than wrongs to or neglect of such of 
 our wounded as must be left behind." 
 
 " It would seem, sir, that you hold me responsible for 
 evils which I cannot prevent." 
 
 " No, sir. I only suggest that you employ your whole 
 influence and power to avert future evils. I am offering a 
 word to the wise, I trust. Ah, Scoville, you have news? " 
 
 "Yes, sir, imjwrtant," said that officer, standing dusty 
 and begrimed at the doorway. 
 
 " Is there haste ? Is your information for my ear only ? 
 I'm nearly through " 
 
 " Plenty of time for dinner, sir. No harm can now come 
 from hearing at once what I have to say." 
 
 "Go ahead, then I'd like my staff to know." 
 
 " Well, sir, having got the enemy on the run, we kept 
 
 
 ... tl 
 
 ■m 
 
 m 
 
 ■^■^s 
 
 ■Ml 
 
 .,ii 
 
 \ 
 
u 
 
 
 ■i|i 
 
 I 
 
 11 
 
 ! ■ \ 
 
 ; ( 
 
 i. ] 
 
 '. \ i 
 
 1 
 
 I '!| I 
 
 i i, 
 
 :! I 
 
 1^ ' 
 
 iiiij 
 
 ;ji 
 
 i8o 
 
 ".!//. V.V At) I/. " 
 
 them going so they could not mask what was behind them. 
 There's a large force coming up." 
 
 "As large as ours? " 
 
 " I think so. I gained an eminence from which I o\)- 
 tained a good view. Major Jones told me to say that he 
 would skirmish with the advance, delay it, and send word 
 from time to time." 
 
 " All right. Get some dinner, then report to me." 
 
 "Yes, sir ; " and Scoville saluted and departed without a 
 glance at any one except his commander. 
 
 "What do you think of my scout. Miss Baron?" asked 
 the general with a humorous tv.inkle in his eyes. 
 
 " He proved himself a gentleman last evening, sir, and 
 now T should think he was proving a very good soldier, 
 much too go6d for our interests." 
 
 " You are mistaken about your interests. Don't you 
 think he was rather rude in not acknowledging your 
 presence?" 
 
 " I don't know much about military matters, but I reckon 
 he thought he was on duty." 
 
 The general laughed. " Well," he remarked, " it does 
 not seem to be age that makes us wise so much as eyes that 
 see and a brain back of them. Scoville is a gentleman 
 and a good soldier. He is also unusually well educated and 
 thoughtful for his years. You are right, my dear. Pardon 
 me, but you keep reminding me of my daughter, and I 
 like to think of all that's good and gentle before a 
 battle." 
 
 " I wish I could meet her," said Miss Lou simply. 
 
 " Come and visit her after the war, then," said the general 
 cordially. " The hone of the country is in the young people, 
 who are capable of receiving new and large ideas.'' Having 
 made his acknowledgments to Mr. Baron and Mrs. Whately, 
 he repaired to the veranda and lighted a cigar. The staff- 
 

 scovrr.r.F.'s /for/-:. 
 
 i.Sr 
 
 (jfli* crs., who hail tried to make themselves Mgrecable on 
 general princij)les, also retired. 
 
 Miss Lou's cheeks were burning with an excitement even 
 greater than that which the conflicts witnessed had ins})ire(l 
 — the excitement of listening to voices from the great un- 
 known world. " These courteous gentlemen," she thought, 
 " this dignified general who invites me to visit his daughter, 
 are the vandals against whom I have been warned. They 
 iiave not only treated me like a lady, l)ut ha\c made me feel 
 that I was one, yet to esca})e them I was to become the 
 slave of a spoiled, passionate boy ! " 
 
 Mrs. Whately guessed much that was passing in her mind, 
 and sighed deeply. 
 
 At the veranda steps stood Uncle Lusthah, hat in hand and 
 heading a delegation from the quarters. The general said, 
 '* Wait a moment," then despatched one of his staff to the 
 ridge with orders. " Now, my man." 
 
 Uncle Lusthah bowed profoundly and be.'^'an, " De young 
 Linkum ossifcr said, las' night, how you tell us mo' dis mawn- 
 in' 'bout our freedom." 
 
 " You are free. Mr. Lincoln's proclamation makes you 
 all free." 
 
 " Kin we uns go 'long wid you, mars'r? Folks des seem 
 kiner deef 'bout dat ar prockermation in dese p^ts." 
 
 " No, my man, you can't go with us. We are marching 
 much too rapidly for you to keep up. Stay here where yon 
 are known. Make terms with your master for wages or 
 share in the crops. If it is necessary, the people about here 
 will probably soon again hear the proclamation from our 
 cannon. Mr. Baron, why don't you gain the good-will of 
 those people and secure their co-operation ? They will be 
 worth more to you as freemen, and they are free. I give you 
 friendly advice. Accept what you can't help. Adapt your- 
 selves to the new order of things. Any other course will be 
 
 ■<} 
 
 i 'Si V 
 
 1 ; ^£ 
 
) 
 
 III 
 II 
 
 l! il 
 
 i 1!! l: 
 
 : I ,' il 
 
 
 I ; ; : 
 
 ill 
 
 Ml 
 
 i,ii 
 
 111!^ ! 
 
 !1 ,' 
 
 iir 
 
 
 I h:' 
 I ■ I 
 
 :ii ''': 
 
 n' n 
 
 ii 
 
 182 
 
 •SI/AS'.S- ZOrV 
 
 just as futile as to resolve solemnly that you will have noth- 
 ing to do with steam, but travel as they did in Abraham's 
 time." 
 
 Miss Lou looked at her uncle curiously to see how he 
 would take this advice. His coldness of manner and silence 
 told how utterly lost upon him it was. The general looked 
 at him a moment, and then said gravely, " Mr. Baron, such 
 men as you are the enemies of your section, not such men 
 as I. (iood-morning, sir. Oood-by, my child. Heaven 
 bless and i)rotect you ! " With a stately bow to Mrs. 
 W'hately he departed and was soon on the ritlge again with 
 his men. 
 
 " I wonder if Abraham and the Patriarchs would have 
 been any more ready for the new order of things than 
 uncle?" Miss Lou thought as she went to find Scoville. 
 
 " He down at Aun' Jinkey's cabin. Chunk took he dinner 
 dar," Zany whispered. 
 
 " He des step ter de run ter wash he ban's en flicc," said 
 Aun' Jinkey a little later. 
 
 Passing some screening shrubbery, the girl saw him stand- 
 ing on the spot from which he had been carried insensible 
 by her directions so brief a time before. '' Your dinner is 
 ready," she called. 
 
 He came to her quickly and said, " I've been trying to 
 re:.'.ze all that has happened since I fell at your feet yonder." 
 
 " Far more has happened to me than to you," she replied. 
 " It seems years since then, Pve seen and learned so much." 
 
 *' I wish to ask you something," he said earnestly. "That 
 scamp, Perkins, fired on mt at close range. You stood just 
 over him and I heard what you said. How happened it 
 that his bullet flew so wide of the mark?" 
 
 She. began laughing as she asked, " Have you never heard 
 that there was luck in throwing an old shoe ? I hit Perkins 
 over the eves with one of mine." 
 
scovii.i.E's i/ori:. 
 
 183 
 
 "Took il off and fired it while lie was trying to shoot 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He seized both her hands and asked, " What will you Like 
 for that shoe?" 
 
 "What a Yankee yon are to ask such a ([uestion I It 
 •rt'asn't a shoe ; it was a slipper." 
 
 " Have you it on now? " 
 
 "Yes. What should you want of it?" 
 
 "I want to wear it next my heart. Which one was it? 
 Let me see it." 
 
 " No ; it's old. I haven't any other, and I shall wear it 
 on my right toot as long as it lasts." 
 
 " Plea.se let me see it and take it in my hands just a 
 moment. I may never have a chance to ask another favor 
 of you." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you will. You are coming to see us, and the 
 general has asked me to visit his daughter after the war is 
 over. Do you think he'll remember it? " 
 ■ "The slipper, please." 
 
 " How can you ask so absurd a thing? " and a dainty foot 
 was put out a brief instant before him. 
 
 " O you litde Cinderella ! I wish I was the Prince." He 
 saw something like a frown gathering on her face. " Don't 
 look that way," he resumed, " I want to tell you something 
 I've read. I don't remember the words, but the gist is that 
 a woman never forgets a man on whom she has bestowed a 
 great kindness. Already I have twice owed my life to you. 
 You can't forget me. My hope is in what you have done 
 for me, not what I can do for you. I can think of myself 
 lying dead in front of the house, I know I am standing here 
 looking into your true, sweet eyes. Let me look into them 
 a moment, for I have no sister, no mother, no one in the 
 world that I care for like you. Do not think I am making 
 
 uii 
 
 1 u 
 
 'm 
 
 % 
 
 ii i 
 
M 
 
 t i 
 
 tl 
 
 A 
 
 M 
 
 1S4 
 
 ",i//.s.s /or 
 
 love. I may lu* <lo.ul >»•( Ix Ion- !iii;l\(. Hul wlu'iluM I live 
 ni (iir I w.nil von |() ii'mcmlHM thai tliric is om* human soul 
 thai always wislu^s yon wt'll lor vour ('rcn sake, that Is wholly 
 an«i unscllishly <k'v«)tc(l to your interests and hajjpiness." 
 
 "I'iuMv. I'm heginning to « rv. and your dinner's getting 
 »H)ld. \o\\ unist stop talkiufJ so." 
 
 " (ov(> me something to rarrv into battli' this afternoon." 
 She stoope*! and gathered some wild violets. " There," 
 
 she said. 
 " Von 
 
 am 
 
 Id 
 
 no 
 
 I ha 
 
 ve 
 
 hosen lulter. Whenever I see 
 
 violets hereallei tliey shall he your eyes looking at me as 
 you are looking now." 
 
 "Ami — well — you « an rememluM- that tlu'ie is always a 
 little Iriend in tlu^ Soull\ who does eare. That's a eurious 
 thought about a woman's taring lor those slie has — I 
 don't 1>elie\(^ a wtiman « an eare lor anv one and not try to 
 «lo something lor him. Let us just think of ourselves as 
 friends. It seems to me that I ne\er want to think any 
 o{\\cv www Now vou w/anV get vour dinner. Vou may be 
 smnmoncvl hastily and have no other ehanee to-day. After 
 Iniie Lusthah's words last night I'm not going to have any 
 forebodings." 
 
 " Won't yon let me eall you Miss Lou onec before I go?" 
 
 "Win not.?" 
 
 " Well, then. Miss Lon. K>ok in my eyes onrc niore and 
 remeinber what you see there. 1 won't say a word." 
 
 She raised hers shyly to his. blushed deei)ly and turned 
 away, shaking her head. The power to di\ ine what she saw 
 was born with her. 
 
 Ves. I understaml you," he saitl very gently, '* but y 
 
 ou 
 
 can't help it, any more than the sun's shining. Some day 
 your heart may be cold and sad, and the memory of what 
 you have just seen may warm and eheer it. Miss Lou, you 
 brave, noble little el\ild-woman. tlidn't you see that my love 
 
SCO i //././■ 's //()/'/:. 
 
 1K5 
 
 \Viis your servant — that it mt'icly gives y<»ii |>(>w<."r over iiu* i* 
 I'A'cn as my wile you would he as free as I would he. Now 
 ):;o()d hy. We part here and not I'elore others. (!hunk is 
 yonder with my horse. He just as ha|)|>y as you can whether 
 we ever meet again or not." 
 
 " 'i'hen — then — if you don't come again ? " she faltered. 
 
 •* I shall he dead, hut don't helieve this too hastily." 
 
 " You've heen kind," she hurst out |)assioiiat<'ly, " you've 
 treated me with respert, as if f had a right to myself. You 
 have saved me from what \ dreaded far worse than death. 
 \'ou shall not go away, perhaps to die, without — without — 
 without — oh, think (»f me only as a grateful child whose 
 life you've kept from heing spoiled." 
 
 " I shall not go away without — what?" he asked eagerly. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know. What shall I say? IVIy heart aches 
 as if it would hreak at the thought of any thing happening 
 to you." She dropped on the grass and, huryiii'^ her I" * 
 in her hands, sohhed aloud. 
 
 He knelt heside her and sought to take one of her 
 hands. 
 
 Suddenly she hid her face against his breast for a moment 
 and faltered. " Love me as a child ncmi and leave me." 
 
 " You have given me niy orders, little girl, and they would 
 be obeyed as far as you could see were I with you every 
 day." 
 
 "Lieutenant Scoville ! " shouted the distant voice of an 
 orderly. He hastily kissed away the tears in her eyes, 
 exclaiming, "Never doubt my return, if living," and was 
 gone. 
 
 In a moment he had passed through the shrubbery. 
 Before she had regained self-control and followed he was 
 speeding his horse towards the ridge. " There, he has gone 
 without his dinner," she said in strong self-reproach, hasten- 
 ing to the cabin, (^hunk, who was stuffing a chicken and 
 
 I 
 
 a If: 
 
 li|i; 
 
 
 iliPfi, 
 
 < ll 
 
 l> "■' 
 
 ;i 
 
 
'Ml 
 
 isr) 
 
 'M/As.s I. or/' 
 
 corn-bread into a iKivorsack, reassured Iier. *' Duan yuii 
 worry, Miss I, on," lie said. "Dis yere (liieken gwine ler 
 foUer 'im riglit slam troo ehery ting till hit cotch up," and 
 he galloped after his new "boss " in a way to make good his 
 wt)rds. 
 
 \ 
 
 i 
 
 (11 
 
 i!- i; 
 
77/ V> S 70 A' MS. 
 
 i«; 
 
 (:iiAi»ri;R xxi, 
 
 TWO STORMS. 
 
 M 
 
 ISS LOU sunk wcaril) on the door-slcp of Ann' 
 Jinkcy's cabin where tlie reader first made her at- 
 
 ([luiintance. She drew a long sigli. " Oh, I must rest and 
 get my breath. So much is liappening 
 
 I " 
 
 a 
 
 You po' chile ! " was the sympathetic response. 
 
 Ah 
 
 well, honey, de good Lawd watchin' ober you. T year how 
 dat ole snake-in-de-grass l*erkins git out Miss Whately's 
 keridge en tink he gwine ter tote you off nobody know 
 whar. You passin' troo de Red Sea long o' us, honey. I 
 yeared how you say you (loan wanter lebe yo' ole mammy. 
 I ain' cried so sence I wus a baby w'en I yeared dat. Doan 
 you reckermember, honey? You sot right dar en wish 
 sump'n ter hap'n. I 'spects we bettah be keerful how we 
 wishes fer tings. Doan you min' de time Uncle Lusthah 
 pray fer rain en we wus all nigh drownded? " 
 
 '* I'm not sorry, mammy, things happened, for my heart's 
 been warmed, wanned as never before. Oh, it's so sweet to 
 know that one is cared for ; it is so sweet to have somebody 
 look you in the eyes and say, '* I want you to be happy in 
 your own way." 
 
 " Did Marse Scoville say dat ? " 
 
 The girl nodded. 
 
 " I'se hab ter smoke on dat ar lil whiles." 
 
 Both were lost in thought for a time, Miss Lou's eyes 
 looking dreamily out through the pines and oaks as they 
 
 \ It 
 
 % 
 
 I .'i'i 
 
 i' t\A 
 
 1 
 
 u 
 
i:- ' ) 
 \ 
 
 m 
 
 lit] 
 
 ISS 
 
 ,l//.v,s /<>/ 
 
 
 I - 1 
 
 h.xl licjoic wliri) \.i|;U('ly li)ii^;ii)^ lli.il llii- sl.ii^ii.itioii oi her 
 lilr nii^ht < t-ar^f. All \\m\ Ik'iouk' slraii^cly still ; not a 
 soMiiT was in sii^lit ; cvon the birds wcw ([iiict in the snltri- 
 noss «>r the I'.irly altiMnoon. "Isn't it all a dirain?" the 
 girl askiMJ snddcnly. 
 
 •' Kin' ol) wish we conld wake uj) den, if it is. Sec yen*, 
 Miss Lou. yon on'y a lil < Uile arter all. l»oan you see 
 Marse S« on iiU- des tekin' a longer way roun' de hush ? W 'en 
 he tell you he want you ter he happ) he mean he want you 
 hissef!" 
 
 " Oh. yes, Ann' jinkey, that was plain enough ; but do you 
 know how he would take nie and when?" 
 
 " Hat's des w'at I lak ter know, I'er 1 tells you, rhile. dis 
 niar'in' business ortiil simus." 
 
 " He would take me only when i went to him of my own 
 free will and nt)t before. I teel jusi as safe with him as with 
 you. I believe he would do what I asked just as he minds 
 that general of his. 'I'hat's the wonderful part t)f it, whiih 
 almost takes away my breath. Why, only the otiier day 
 nnele and aunt were ordering me about as they always have, 
 and now here's a brave, educated man ready to do my 
 bidding. What a goose Cousin Mad was I If he had arted 
 that way T shouldn't have known any better 1 fear than to 
 marry him. I was so starved tor a little eonsiileration and 
 kindness, that if he'd been generous and made me feel that 
 he cared for wr and not for himself all the time, I fear I'd 
 have just married hin"j out of gratitude. T would have acted 
 like an impulsive, ignorant child, blind to every thing except 
 that some one cared for me. Hut that's all past now\ My 
 eyes have been opened and I've been compelled to think 
 and foresee the future. Dreary enough it would have been 
 with him." 
 
 '' What you gw^ne ter do, honey?" 
 
 " Stand on my rights. See how much I've learned in a 
 
4< J 
 
 viri) .s/c/'j/.s. 
 
 iXij 
 
 • short (lays, yes, even hours. I've learned ahovi' all 
 things that my life's my own. There were my relatives, who 
 would re.ich oiit and take it, just as they would a ri|)r fi^ 
 IVom .1 tree, with just about as much consideration for me as 
 for the fi^'. Thank ( iod ! I have been shown < Icarly my 
 n^ht to my owti life. Since I have learned so much in a 
 <'ew days, I shall keep my freedom and < hoose that whi( h is 
 best for mc as well as best for others." 
 
 "Now honey, you- on di' rij^ht track, sho ! I )es you 
 wait en lis'n. Mo' folks dan Marse S( oville wanter talk 
 wid you on dis mar'age (juestion. You on'y lil ( hile yit. 
 Des you keep yosef deserved like en say yo' mouf ain' 
 waterin' fer enybody. Marse Scoville berry nice gi'm'lin, 
 btit he ycrc to-day en like anuff a orful way yander ter- 
 morrer " — 
 
 "No matter where he is, Ann' Jinkey, he will carry the 
 love T coiild give ty a kind l)rother if I had one. He knows 
 I can do no more and he does not ask more." 
 
 " Yes, he does, honey ; he ax hit in de bes way ter git hit 
 fimi you. He ain' de fool ter grab at hit, but he tek hit all 
 de same." 
 
 " Well," she answered judicially, " I don't see how a girl 
 can help it if a man thinks more of her than she of him, but 
 it does make all the difference in the world whether a man 
 tries to grab, as you say, or waits respectfully for what should 
 be a free gift, to be worth any thing. How strange it seems 
 to be talking quietly of such things ! Think of what has 
 happened, what n.ight have happened, and what may take 
 ])lace before night ! " / 
 
 " Well, honey, hit's a good ting ter stop tinkin' or ter tink 
 slow sometimes. \Ve couldn't keep a gwine as we wus. 
 Our haids ud whirl right off our shol'ers. Hit's all so peace- 
 ful now, why (loan you go ter yo' room en tek a nap. Mebbe 
 you git berry lil sleep ter-night." 
 
 '4 
 
 
 E I 
 
Mil 
 
 ill 
 
 ij 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 !H!li;|ill 
 
 h.il 
 
 V, hi: 
 
 M 
 
 
 !i|!lii 
 
 ■111' 
 
 ih" 
 
 Ill 
 
 * I: 
 
 h '■ 
 
 I ( ' 
 
 190 
 
 "A//SS LOU. 
 
 " I reckon your advice is good, mammy. If you have 
 trouble, come to me." 
 
 As she walked through the garden and shrubbery to the 
 mansion she felt that she was reacting from the strong 
 excitements of the morning into languor and excessive 
 weariness. The idle negroes had partially succumbed to 
 the heat and quiet, and were generally dozing in the sun, 
 even on this eventful day. Perkins, the exacting overseer, 
 had disappeared on the first alarm of Scoville's charge and 
 had not been seen since. When entering the house Zany, 
 who always seemed on the qui vive, told her that her aunts 
 were in their rooms and that Mr. Baron was in his office. 
 Going out on the veranda, the girl saw two or three vigilant 
 Union videttes under a tree. It was evident that they had 
 chosen a point which commanded a good view of the house, 
 out-buildings and quarters. The ridge wa? still lined with 
 troops, but they appeared to be scattered about at their 
 ease on the ground. The girl's eyes drooped ; she wearily 
 climbed to her room and was soon asleep. 
 
 Many others slept also who would sleep again that night 
 in the stillness of death ; others who would groan through 
 coming days and nights in anguished wakefulness. The 
 temporary quiet did not deceive the resting soldiers on 
 either side. They well knew that the active brains of their 
 superiors were at work. Scoville found unexpected duty. 
 He was given a score of men, with orders to scour the roads 
 to the eastward, so that, S best, his general could retire 
 rapidly and in assured safety towards the objective point 
 where he was to unite with a larger force. ' Instead of rest- 
 ing, the young man was studving topography and enjoying 
 the chicken which had at last caught up with him. He knew 
 th-^ importance of his work and did it thoroughly. Having 
 cnosen the road which promised best, he marked it on a 
 map, expecting soon to go over it again as guide. He 
 
 
i3 
 
 TIVO S 7'0 AWS. 
 
 TQf 
 
 Sighed deeply as he thought that it would lead away from 
 the girl to whom he had devoted his life, yet not because he 
 owed it to her. " U we could only remain together," he 
 thought, "she would learn to give all that I give. Tiie 
 dear little girl is just learning that she is a woman, and is 
 bewildered." 
 
 Major Jones, who had been skirmishing to delay the 
 Confederate advance, idlowed his men and horses to rest 
 when the enemy paused for thdr mid-day bivouac, and so 
 had come about a cessation of hostilities during which l)oth 
 parties took breath for the coming struggle. 
 
 Miss Lou was suddenly awakened by a jar which sliook 
 the house, followed ])v a strans^e, unearthlv sound. For an 
 instant she was confused, tliinking niglit had come, so dark 
 was her room. Springing t'- licr window slie threw open 
 the blinds. A black, tlireaiening sky met her gaze, the 
 sunlight hidden by a dense bank of clouds, al)ove which 
 towered golden-tipped thunder-heads. The appearance of 
 the ridge puzzled her. The cannon were there, a puff^'of 
 smoke rolled heavily from one of them ; but excepting a 
 few gunners just about the pieces, the long line of men and 
 horses had largely disapi)eared. Down the lawn from a 
 point not far from the house to the main street and beyond 
 was a line of horsemen, keeping abreast and eciui-distant 
 from each other. What did it all mean? Facing the ridge 
 on the left of the lawn was an extensive grove, through 
 which the avenue wound in and out, and the line of horse- 
 men was approaching this. Suddenly the very earth trembled 
 and she saw smok ^ pouring upward amongst the trees from 
 a rise of ground within the grove. All now became clear to 
 her. While she had slept, the Confederates had come up, 
 taken their position and the battle was .beginning. In 
 strong excitement she rushed down to the hall below, where 
 ^he found her aunts with pallid, frightened faces. On the 
 
 
 'S«l 
 
 ■iav; 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 •;r 
 
 1^ I 
 
 
 ;')* 
 
 .;*,*« 
 
i 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 1 1 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 1 I 
 
 ill 
 
 J 92 
 
 " Jf/SS LOUr 
 
 \cianda was Mr. Baron, looking white indeed, but with 
 firm, compressed lips and fiery eyes, watching the opening 
 conflict. 
 
 '* Cio in," he said stciiily, " this is no place for you." 
 
 In her intense absori)tion she did not even hear him. 
 From the edge of the grove and along the avenue were now 
 seen little puffs of smoke, followed by the sharp crack of 
 carbines. The long line of Union skirmishers began to reply 
 in like manner, but it was evident that they found them- 
 selves too obvious marks in the open. Here and there men 
 fell from their saddles, and the riderless horses galloped away. 
 The notes of a bugle were heard above the din, and the 
 Union skirmish line retired rapidly to the foot of the ridge. 
 
 Miss Ivou saw all this only as the eyes catch, half-involun- 
 tarily, what is passing before them. With an awe almost 
 overwhelming, her attention was absorbed by a pliase of war 
 utter!y unknown to her — an artillery duel. Two Conied- 
 ei;ate batteries in the grove had opened and defined their 
 positions. The Union guns replied, shot for shot, in loud 
 explosions, with answering, deep-toned roar. Above the 
 detonations were heard the piercing screams of the shells as 
 they flew back and forth. On the ridge they burst with a 
 sharp crack and puff of vapor, with what effect could only 
 be guessed ; but the missiles which shrieked into the grove 
 gave the impression of resistless, demoniacal power. Great 
 limbs and even tops of trees fell crashing after them. 
 Blending faintly with the rending sound which followed were 
 screams and yells. 
 
 " Well," exclaimed the girl, " if Cousin Mad is there he 
 at least is brave. It seems as if my knees would give way 
 under me." 
 
 Even as she spoke, a forked line of light burned down- 
 v/ard athwart the heavy rising clouds. The smoke of the 
 battle was lurid an instant ^ then came a peal which dwarfed 
 
 il 
 
7'1!V STOk'MS. 
 
 193 
 
 
 but \villi 
 c opening 
 
 n 
 
 ^OU. 
 
 hear him. 
 J were now 
 ) crack of 
 ;an to reply 
 lund them- 
 . there men 
 [oped away, 
 in, and the 
 the ridge, 
 lalf-involun- 
 awe ahiiost 
 )!iase of war 
 wo Conied- 
 lefined their 
 ot, in loud 
 Above the 
 ;he shells as 
 lurst with a 
 could only 
 the grove 
 er. Great 
 iter them, 
 ilowed were 
 
 lis there he 
 id give way 
 
 med down- 
 
 oke of the 
 
 Ich dwarfed 
 
 the thunder of earthly artillery. Strange to say, the sound 
 was reassuring to the girl ; it was familiar " Ah ! " she 
 cried, " the voice of heaven is louder than this din, and 
 heaven after all is supreme. This fiery battle will soon be 
 (jiienched and hot blood cooled." 
 
 The voice in the sky was unheeded, for entering the lawn 
 from the road, distant from the mansion about an eighth of 
 a mile, was seen a solid gray column. On it went towards 
 the ridge at a sharp trot. " Ah ! " groaned Mr. Baron, " now 
 comes the tug of war." 
 
 The girl screamed and moaned as she saw shells tearing 
 their way through this column, horses and men rolling over 
 on the ground, puffs of smoke which rose revealing frightful 
 gaps ; but on flowed the dark gray torrent as if propelled by 
 an invisible, resistless force. Vacancies made by wounds 
 and death were closed almost instantly. In the strange, 
 luminous twilight made by the approaching storm, the im- 
 petuous advance was wonderfully distinct in the distance, 
 like a vivid silhouette. 
 
 As the head of the column drew near the gentle acclivity, 
 it fairly seemed to crumble, (irape shot was now making 
 havoc ; but for every man and horse that fell, tro apparently 
 came on as from an exhaustless reservoir. High above all 
 sounds now came a yell which, once heard, can never be 
 forgotten, and the Confederate column deployed at a gallop, 
 charging the ridge. The Union skirmish line had already 
 retired to the right, while pouring over the ridge by whicli 
 they had been hitherto concealed, came rank after rank of 
 men in blue, their deeper chest shouts blending with the 
 shriller cries of their enemies. Charge wa^ being met with 
 counter charge. Cannon wti'^ silent, for now friends and 
 foes were too near togecher. Even the clouds loomed 
 silently, as if in suspense, over the terrific shock of the 
 two lines of approaching cavalry. 
 
 
 \ ''■m 
 
■I 
 
 tli 
 
 f 
 
 V 
 \i 
 
 i • 
 
 !■'! 
 
 i'niii 
 
 llii,lll 
 
 I'm I'M 
 
 1 t 
 
 il 
 
 in 
 
 Ni 
 
 || h' 
 
 I I 
 
 194 
 
 "Af/SS LOU.'' 
 
 " Awful ! awful ! " moaned the girl. 
 
 "Oh ! if Madison is meeting that onset ! " shrieked Mrs. 
 Whately, beside herself with horror, yet compelled to look 
 by a terrible fascination. 
 
 Just as the two opposing forces daslied together a bolt of 
 liglitning gleamed over them, turning the upraised sabres for 
 an instant into swords of fire. The crash of thunder fol- 
 lowed so swiftly that it appeared to result from the impact 
 of the two charging lines. An impression of anniiiilation 
 was given, but so far was it from being realized, that the 
 slope was seen to be alive with a struggling, seething mass, 
 wavering back and forth, at first downward, then stationary, 
 then gradually upward, upward, until Mr. Baron shouted, 
 " Hurrah ! our men are carrying the ridge !" 
 
 The cry was scarcely uttered before another dark line of 
 horsemen on the far right was seen galloping forward towards 
 the Confederate flank. Again there was another vivid flash, 
 lighting up the scene with a lurid, momentary glare. The 
 peal which followed created the illusion of sounding this 
 new charge or else to be the thunder of the onset. It 
 turned the fortune of the battle on the right, for the Con- 
 federates were seen to pause, and finally to give back slowly 
 and stubbornly. Then the advancing rainfall began to blot 
 the combatants from view. 
 
 Suddenly the Union artillery opened. It seemed to 
 the terrified spectators on the veranda as if the shells were 
 shrieking directly towards them, but the iron bolts tore their 
 way through the grove, although much nearer the house 
 than before. The reason soon became apparent. On that 
 ridge, and withui the gloomy shadows of the trees, were 
 officers as coolly observant as if playing a game of chess. 
 They gave no more heed to the terrific peals of thunder 
 than they would have done to so many Chinese gongs. 
 While watching the attack upon his centre and providing 
 
Tiro STORMS. 
 
 195 
 
 ii 
 
 >d Mrs. 
 to look 
 
 bolt of 
 bres for 
 der fol- 
 impact 
 ihilation 
 that the 
 ig mass, 
 ationary, 
 shouted, 
 
 k line of 
 ^ towards 
 vid flash, 
 e. The 
 ding this 
 nset. It 
 the Con- 
 ck slowly 
 ,11 to blot 
 
 against it, General Marston was also seeking to penetrate, 
 by means of a powerful glass, the mask of the grove, and so 
 detected a r.oncentration on his left. Instantly his guns 
 began to shell the grove near the house, where the assault- 
 ing force was massing. His reserves were ordered forward, 
 and instructions rapidly given to the colonel who was to repel 
 the attack ; meanwhile his field-glass was glued to his eyes. 
 
 Soon he cried, " It will be their supreme effort. We must 
 strike a stunning blow in order to get away in safety," and 
 he sj^rung on his horse and started the charge himself. 
 
 The men, adoring their leader, followed with stern resolve 
 and high enthusiasm. Scoville, who had returned, reported 
 and rested somewhat, knew how critical was the moment. 
 He rode close to the general, but did not fall out when the 
 wary commanding officer permitted the human ])olt he had 
 launched to pass beyond him. He was responsible for the 
 entire force, and must do just enough and no more. He 
 must still keep his eyes on all parts of the field and his brain 
 ready to direct when the result of the charge was known. 
 More than the military necessity of repelling the Confederate 
 charge bursting from the grove occupied the mind of Sco- 
 ville. It looked to him as if the fight would take place 
 about the very home of the girl to whom his heart was so 
 tender, and his impulse was to .be near, to protect and 
 defend. 
 
 The light was fading fast ; the fury of the storm, whose 
 preliminary blasts were shaking the dwelling, was coming as 
 if an ally with the galloping Union ranks and threatening 
 the equally impetuous onset of the Confederates. In the 
 very van of the Southern force a vivid flasli of lightning 
 revealed Mad Whately, with a sabre of flame. For once he 
 made an heroic figure. His mother saw him and shrieked 
 despairingly, but her voice was lost in the wild uproar of 
 thunder, yells and shouts of the combatants, the shock of 
 
 I 
 
 R ' i'< 
 
 f 11 
 
 '1 ''S 
 
i; I 
 
 '!! I 
 
 i>l • 
 
 'I'M 
 
 jl ■! 
 
 iiili! 
 
 i' i'l ( 
 
 196 
 
 " Af/SS LOU.'' 
 
 II I 1,'ii 
 
 steel and crash of firearms. Then torrents of rain, which 
 had approached hke a black curtain extending from heaven 
 to earth, hid the awful scene of conflict, ll vanished like a 
 dream, and would have seemed but a nightmare had not the 
 ominous sounds continued. 
 
 Mr. Baron broke the spell which had fallen upon him, 
 dragged his sister and niece within the door, and bolted it 
 with difficulty against the spray-laden gusts. 
 
 ■r'l 
 
CHUNK'S QUEST. 
 
 197 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 chunk's quest. 
 
 IF there had been sufficient light the battle might have 
 continued in spite of the tropical downpour, but dark- 
 ness became so intense that friend and foe were alike dis- 
 guised from each other. At this crisis, Scoville's horse was 
 shot and fell, dragging his rider down also. A flash of 
 lightning revealed this mishap to Mad Whately, who secured 
 the capture of the Union officer before he could extricate 
 himself. 
 
 By a sort of mutual consent the contending forces drew 
 apart. Prisoners had been taken on both sides, and Whately, 
 who had badly sprained his arm, unfitting himself for active 
 duty, was given charge of those secured by the Confederates. 
 
 General Marston withdrew the Union forces to the ridge 
 again. He was satisfied that prudence required rapid prog- 
 ress towards his somewhat distant destination. True, he 
 had severely checked his foes, but he knew that they had 
 re-enforcements near, while he had not. He deeply regretted 
 Scoville's absence and possible death, but he had the map, 
 and the men who had been out with the scout were ac- 
 quainted with the selected road. Therefore, as soon as the 
 violence of the storm abated and the moon shed a faint 
 radiance through the murky clouds, he renewed his march 
 as rapidly as the rain-soaked ground permitted. Fires were 
 lighted along the ridge to deceive the enemy, and a rear- 
 guard left to keep them burning. 
 
 I'll 
 
 \ 
 
 m 
 
 
1 
 
 !| 1 1] 
 
 ill 
 
 I) i 
 
 \ i 
 ■i I 
 
 198 
 
 A//SS LOC." 
 
 The trembling household within the mar ;ion slowly rallied 
 as the sounds of battle died away. As soon as the fury of 
 the conflict and storm decreased, Mr. Daron lighted a candle 
 and they looked into one another's white faces. 
 
 Miss Lou was the first to recover some intrepidity of spirit. 
 " Well," she said, " we are still alive, and these torrents' are 
 evidently stopping the fighting as they would put out fire." 
 
 *' O Madison, Madison ! " Mrs. Whately moaned, "avcjou 
 living, or are you dead? If you are dead it is little to me 
 that I am spared." 
 
 Miss Lou did not give very much thought to her cousin. 
 In uverpoweri;ig solicitude she asked herself, " \Vhere is 
 he whose eyes looked such strange, sweet truth into mine 
 to-day? Are they unseeing, not because it is dark, but 
 because the light of life is quenched? " 
 
 The brunt of the storm soon passed and was followed by 
 a drizzling rain and the promise of a gloomy night. As the 
 howling winds ceased their clamor, new blood-curdling 
 sounds smote the girl's ears — the cries of wounded and 
 dying men and horses. Then the ghastly truth, scarcely 
 thought of in the preceding excitement, sickened her heart, 
 for she remembered that, scattered over the lawn and 
 within the grove, were mutilated, bleeding forms. They were 
 all tiie more vividly presented to her fancy because hidden 
 by the night. 
 
 I'ut little time elapsed before the activity of the surgeons 
 began. Mr. Baron was summoned and told that his piazzas 
 and as many rooms as possible must be occupied, and part 
 of the wide hall fitted up with appliances for amputations. 
 Every suitable place in the out-buildings was also required. 
 
 Mrs. Baron almost shrieked as she heard this, seeing at 
 one mental glance the dwelling which it had been her ruling 
 passion to maintain in immaculate order, becoming blood- 
 stained and muddy from top to bottom. 
 
CIIUNK\S QUEST, 
 
 199 
 
 Mrs. VVhatcly asked only for her son, and he soon 
 appearetl, with the excitement of battle still in his eyes. 
 She rushed to his arms and sobbed on his breast. 
 
 " Come, mother," he exclaimed, " we've no time for this 
 now. Please get a sling for this left arm, which aches hor- 
 ribly — only a sprain, but right painful all the same." 
 
 Before the agitated lady could recover herself. Miss Lou 
 ran to her room and returned with a scarf which answered 
 the purpos 
 
 "Oh, you deign to do something for me?" he said 
 bitterly. 
 
 "Come, cousin," she replied, "since I have not lost my 
 senses after what's happened it's time you regained yours." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," said his mother fervently, as she 
 adjusted the support for the disabled arm. " Ves, I trust 
 that we may all regain our senses, and, if we outlive these 
 scenes, begin to act as if we were sane." 
 
 "There, that will do," he said impatiently. "I must go 
 now, for I have important duties," and he hastened away. 
 
 Meantime General Marston had sent word through his 
 picket line that he would not interfere with the care of the 
 wounded and that the dwelling would not be fired upon if 
 used as a hospital. He accompanied this assurance with 
 the offer of medical stores, coffee, sugar and the services of 
 two sui^eons. The Confederate general accepted the offer. 
 The trembling negroes were routed out of their quarters, and 
 compelled more or less reluctantly to help bring in the 
 wounded. Uncle Lusthah showed no hesitancy in the 
 humane work and soon inspired those over whom he had 
 influence with much of his sjjirit. It had been a terribly 
 anxious day for him and those about him. Hope had 
 ebbed and flowed alternately until night, when the day which 
 seemed to him the dawning of the millennium ended as he 
 imagined the world might end. Now, however, he wa3 
 
 ■'iv 
 
 % 
 
II I 
 
 A 
 
 r 
 
 -ill 
 
 'i 
 
 \\u 
 
 : I 
 
 '!i'i' 
 
 liLl, 
 
 200 
 
 "M/SS LOU." 
 
 comforted in the performance of good works, and lie breathed 
 words of CMiristian hope into more tlian one dying ear that 
 night. 
 
 Perkins, the overseer, was animated by a very different 
 spirit. At the first alarm of Scoville's return in the morning 
 he had dashed into the grove, and next concealed himself 
 on a distant eminence from which he could watch events. 
 Under the cover of darkness he returned, and exi^erienced 
 grim satisfaction when he discovered the hated Union officer 
 among the prisoners. 
 
 As Whately was making his final arrangements for the 
 night, Perkins touched his arm saying, " Lcftenant, I'll help 
 watch that Yankthar" (pointing to Scoville). "They say 
 he's ez slip'ry ez a eel." • 
 
 " Do so, Perkins. We both have a heavy score to settle 
 with him. At daylight Pll send him where he won't fore as 
 well as he did on this plantation." 
 
 " Is your arm woun'ed? " 
 
 "No, only sprained, but it pains like the devil. Watch 
 that Yank well. Fd rather they all got away than he." 
 
 " He'll never get away alive," was the ominous reply. 
 
 As was true after the fir^t skirmish recorded in this history, 
 Mrs. Whately now again appeared to the best advantage. 
 Relieved from overwhelming anxiety in regard to her son, 
 her heart overflowed with pity for the injured. From the 
 outer darkness, limp, helpless forms, in blood-stained gar- 
 ments, were borne in. (iroans and half-stifled cries began 
 to resound through the house. P'ven Mrs. Baron forgot all 
 else now but the pressing necessity of relieving pain and 
 saving life, but she had eyes only for those who wore the 
 gray. Mrs. ^Vhately, on the contrary, made no distinction, 
 and many a poor fellow, in blue as well as gray, blessed her 
 as she aided the surgeons, two of whom were from the Union 
 lines. Miss Lou remained chiefly in her own room and 
 
 y 
 
'L^'kiMm f-vt*. ,..' 
 
 CHUNK \S QUEST, 
 
 201 
 
 busied herself prci)aring bandages, sparing not her own 
 rather scanty store of underclothing in the task. 
 
 Mr. I'aron was in the dining-room, dispensing wines and 
 li(|uors to the officers who were coming and going. The 
 (lonfetlerate general had made the wide hearth, on which 
 roared an ample fire, his headi[uarters for the time, and was 
 turning first one side then the other towards the l)laze, in 
 order to dry his uniform. Poor Ann' Suke had been threat- 
 ened into renewed activity, and with many colored assist- 
 ants had begun a stewing, baking and frying which promised 
 to be interminable. C'hickcns, pigs and cattle had been 
 killed wherever found, for hungry soldiers after a battle and 
 in darkness ask no questions on either side. Mr. Baron 
 knew he was being ruinetl, but since it was in behalf of his 
 friends, he maintained remarkable fortitude, while his wife, 
 with her thin, white, set face, honored every requisition. 
 
 Some of the negroes, sighing for what seemed vanishing 
 freedom, sought to reach the Union force, but were stopped 
 at the picket line by which (leneral Marston masked his 
 retirement from the field. The majority of the slaves, how- 
 ever, were kept at work in-doors and out, under the eyes of 
 the Confederates, who quickly showed themselves to be 
 savage towards any disposition to shirk orders. 
 
 There was one who would have received short shrift if 
 hands could have been laid upon him — Chunk. None 
 knew this better than he, yet he was as fearless as he was 
 shrewd. Scoville had already won from him unlimited de- 
 votion — bought him, body and soul, with kindness and 
 freedom. When he found his new master had not returned 
 from the final charge. Chunk questioned one and another 
 until he learned that Scoville had been seen to go down and 
 then disappear in the gloom. Whether he had been killed 
 or captured, no one knew, bui Chunk resolved to find out 
 before morning at all risks. Yet in the darkness and rain 
 
 Mi 1 
 
 m\\\ 
 
 .;n-: 
 
 ^ 
 
202 
 
 **Af/.\S /(V. " 
 
 1 
 
 he Crll mm h «nnn<liMU{' in his nhilityto rlmlc «l.>n^r!. fnt he 
 kiu'w I'vcry in* h of ilu- ^romul .iinl ol iininctiiu-, pi, mis 
 Tor ronrtMliiu'ni. 
 
 lie stM i\l»»)nl his tasks in the inosi nMtlci i>| in i w.iv, 
 ivsolxing to lu'^in tipciMtinns with a j;«unl siippi-r. At tliis 
 <MiI\ ■>\:\^c Atin' jinki'v miuI her rabin wnr Ixilli l"<iij;t)tttM). 
 anil th»' potM old wtnnan was hiHili.nl liom tcrioi. \\ lu'n 
 ("hunk lapp(Ml at the oiu' win<it)W, she lK,irrtl ihi* spotiks oj 
 <loa<l soldii'vs hail ahoadv lu'j^nn tluir pciscnitions. Never 
 was tluM'e a more weleoiui* and reassmin;; soinul thai\ the 
 impatient voi«e ot her f;randson, an«l she soon so railitd as 
 to get him s*)methinj; to eat. 
 
 " I dai-sn'l eome in." he said. " I L;ot ter In* wh.ir I Km 
 run en hidv\ Now gvamu'. lis'n wid al' vo' ears. Marsi' 
 S» »nille killed, wonn'ed or took. I'se gwine ter tin' oiil 
 \vhi( h. W 'en dev j;its mo' settle down lak annd" dev he 
 lookin' \'cv me yere. en 1 k\ ant <"omo yere no n\o\ but 1 kin 
 i;it ler Miss I ou's winder et" she liab nt) li;;ht in her n)om. 
 1 satest uh.u- dey ain' U>okin' ter me. Tell her ter put no 
 lii;ht sho 1 Mebbe she hatter ho]> me git Marse Scovillo oil', 
 of he took en el" he wMun'e<l she de (Uie ter 'teet en keer ler 
 'ini. IXit ar IVrkins kill 'im sho, el" ho git de eh.\rni'e. Now 
 of yiMi years me tov>t twice lak a siiuim^h-owl, yon knows 
 dat von got tor go en tell Miss 1 on dat I m\'d her hep (ii 
 d.u 1 gwine ter eroop 'long dc pazz.or roof ter her winder. 
 I'l 1 dv>an toot you koops (luiot till you sees mo agin," and 
 he disap]>earod. 
 
 " Who'd a thunk dat ar boy had scch a haid ! " ejaculated 
 Ann' Jinkey, lighting her pipo. Deep as would now be her 
 solieitudo and groat as her fears, her grandson's ai)p wrance 
 and words had dispelled the spook-j^hase of her tribulations. 
 
 Chunk could run on all fours as easily as in an upright 
 position, and ho made his way rapidly through the darkness. 
 His first aim was to get his eye on Perkins and Mad Whately. 
 
(V/rA'A'.V (,>/ /\\/\ 
 
 2()J 
 
 from whom \\c (cIl ilinl he iiml S< ovillr li.nl tlir inf)st to fc.ir. 
 Iff was now iinncil witli ;i knil'r .iml short rluli, as well as ,i 
 ii'vidvci, ami was (Iclciiiiiiirfl ht use tlinn lallirr lliaii !«• 
 < a|iliin(l. Skulking, ri('('|iin^ and lii<liii^ in »l(r|i sliailnw, 
 Iw al last saw rcikins issuing lioin liis hmisc, r airyiiiK '''^ 
 lantern, {'oilinvinj;, he dislint lly nliscrvcd tin jitid inlcrvi'W 
 JK'lwccn (lie ovcrst'cr and Wliatt ly, and i;n(ssi(l lorrcvtly 
 
 thai St nMJic was anittnj,' the prisoners, lie was soon aide so 
 to sliilt his position as to satisfy InniseH on this point, and 
 .ilso to mile that Pcikins. I'roni his inoveincnts, would i)L' c»nc 
 olthe _L;nard. Uy tiie j^leanis ol the lantein ( hinik also,, saw 
 th.it S( (t\ille appeared to he wat( liin^' the o\<'rseer as if sns- 
 peelinj^ lrea< hery. " I wal< h 'ini too," the neKrosoliloc|iii/,f(l. 
 '* I'll" lie play eny dehi! tri< k he liissef gwine ter <le dehil 
 snd'n." 
 
 S< oville was indeed anxious aboni his position, for whiK; 
 he i)elit-\ed that Whately was scarcely ( apahle of trans( end- 
 ing tlie usages of war, he knew well that o|)portunily only 
 limited tiic malignity of Perkins. lie therefore rarely took 
 his eyes from this p«'tsonal enemy. 
 
 {■'or his own" sake and that of the guards, Perkins aide<l in 
 
 build 
 
 ing a lire 
 
 for 
 
 m the (ontmued ram :il 
 
 were < Inlled 
 
 As ("h\ink saw the leaping llames and tlu* lantern so jihu cd 
 that its rays fell on Seoville, he was almost in despair of any 
 chance for rescue, but belie\cd that his best course was to 
 watch for some change which promised better, lie remem- 
 bered how Seoville had I'lnployed the hoolings of the 
 screech-owl as a signal and resolved by the same means to 
 prejMre the prisoner for co-operation with any effort in his 
 behalf. Therefore he hooted s»)ftly and was glad to see from 
 Scoville's alert yet wary manner that he had recognized the 
 signal. 
 
 So intent was Chunk in watching his master that he did 
 not hear the steps of a bewildered Confederate who stum- 
 
 1 1f' 
 
 ■r 
 
I 
 
 n 
 
 
 ill 
 
 1 1! II! 
 
 iii;!ii' 
 
 I ■ > 
 
 ii|i 111 
 
 1" 
 
 i 1 til' 1 
 
 ■I 'IM 
 
 !i 
 
 'HI 
 
 'I ! 
 
 
 !' 'I 
 
 !' 
 
 ' , ll' I 
 
 204 
 
 "A//SS LOU. 
 
 bled over him and fell headlong with a volley of oaths. 
 The negro employed wofiil strategy to mislead the soldier, 
 for he grunted like a pig, thus awakening hopes of more 
 fried pork. The result was immediate pursuit by all within 
 hearing, and Chunk with difficulty escaped by the aid of 
 darkness and his complete familiarity with the place. When 
 at last he found himself secure he panted, " Mout ez well be 
 took fer Chunk ez a hog. Stand des ez good a cliarnce. 
 Won't try dat ar game agin." 
 
 He was now sorely puzzled to'know what to do, and his 
 nerves were somewhat shaken by his narrow escape. At 
 last he resolved to send his granny to Miss Lou and consult 
 with the girl. Accordingly, he stole into the shrubbery of 
 the garden and hooted twice, rightly thinking that Scoville 
 could hear the signal also and believe that something might 
 be attempted in his behalf. Cowering under a bush, he 
 soon observed Ann' Jinkey tottering towards the house, mut- 
 tering, "Good Lawd, hep us ! " as she went. 
 
 As the excitement of battle and exultation over the cap- 
 ture of Scoville subsided in Whately's mind he became 
 excessively weary and his exhausted frame suffered from the 
 chill and wetness of the night. He had sought to keep up 
 by liberal potations in his uncle's dining-room, but was re- 
 solved to get a night's sleep if possible. He had urgently 
 charged the sergeant of the guard over the prisoners to be 
 vigilant. When Perkins offered to share in this watch 
 WMiately, understanding the vindictive motive, felt that he 
 need give himself no further anxiety. He next sought his 
 mother and obtained a litde food which the lady had brought 
 to her room. 
 
 " Where is Cousin Lou ? " the young man asked. 
 
 "She is in her own room, and with Zany's help making 
 bandages. I would advise you not to see her again to-night. 
 You are greatly wearied." 
 
of oaths, 
 e soldier, 
 ; of more 
 all within 
 ie aid of 
 :e. When 
 ez well be 
 , charnce. 
 
 3, and his 
 cape. At 
 id consult 
 iibbery of 
 it Scoville 
 ing might 
 bush, he 
 juse, mut- 
 
 the cap- 
 became 
 from the 
 keep up 
 t was re- 
 urgently 
 ers to be 
 lis watch 
 t that he 
 ought his 
 d brought 
 
 3 making 
 to-night. 
 
 cnUMk'\s QVnsT. 
 
 20; 
 
 " Little wonder, after riding nearly aH last night, and the 
 fighting to-day." 
 
 " Yes, I know, and have thought of all nearly every 
 moment. I am only too thankful that you have survived. 
 You have gone to the limit of human endurance and must 
 sleep. The less you and Louise say to each other for a 
 short time the better. After you have both grown calmer 
 and have had a chance to think you will see things in a 
 different light." 
 
 " Mother, do you think I mean to be thwarted by that 
 girl? I would marry her now from pure pride — for the 
 sake of humbling her and teaching her that she made the 
 mistake of her life in so crossing my will and in subjecting 
 me to the mortification I endured this morning." 
 
 " Madison ! actuated by such motiv^;, you'll never win 
 her ! If you will closely follow my advice I believe you 
 can succeed. I must tell you plainly that if you join with 
 brother and his wife in their tactics it will always end much 
 as it did this morning." 
 
 " Well, anyhow, I have that cursed Yankee cub that she 
 went walking with in my power," 
 
 "What! Lieutenant Scoville ? " 
 
 "Yes; he's a prisoner and Perkins is helping watch him." 
 
 "Then I implore you not to let Louise know it. She saw 
 that this Scoville might have killed you. She is merely 
 friendly towards him because, instead of treating us rudely, 
 as she was led to believe he would, he was very polite and 
 considerate when we were in his po>ver. That wretch Per • 
 !:ins tried to shoot him to-day and probably would have suc- 
 ceeded but for Louise," and she narrated the circumstances. 
 
 Her son frowned only the darker from jealousy and anger. 
 
 "O Madison! why won't you see things as they are?" 
 his mother resumed. " If you had treated this Yankee 
 orticer with kindness and thanked him for his leniency 
 
 
ilii 
 
 I 
 
 . 
 
 ■ 
 
 II 
 
 'ii 
 
 M 
 
 illi, 
 
 i " 
 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 
 til 
 
 !•■ 
 
 f '^ 
 
 t > 
 
 l ^ 
 
 
 iiil 
 
 
 206 
 
 '•ilZ/.V^' /.06V 
 
 towards us, yon would have taken a long step in her favor. 
 If you were trying to make her hate you, how could you set 
 about it more skilfully?" 
 
 " Mother/' he replied doggedly, " if Lou had married me, 
 even if she had yielded reluctantly, I would have l)een lier 
 slave ; but slie has defied me, humiliated and scoffed at me, 
 and I sliall never wliine and fjwn for her favor again. I 
 don't believe it would be of any use. If I siiould change 
 my tactics she would only despise and laugh at me. Wiiat's 
 more, my very nature revolts at such a change. 1 can't and 
 won't make it. She shall learn to fear me. >\'om(m marry 
 for fear as well as love. This Scoville gives me a chance to 
 teach her the hrst lesson. He shall be sent by daylight to a 
 Southern prison and that will be the last of him. Lou shall 
 learn, as all will find out, that it's poor policy to th\vart me. 
 That major who interfered so impudently in our affairs is 
 dead." 
 
 '' O IVLidison ! " 
 
 " You neetln't look so. T had nothing to do with it. 
 There were i:)lenty of Yankee bullets flying to-day. All I 
 mean to say is that it will j^rove serious for any one to 
 cross my path, late is on the side of a man who 7ai7/ 
 have his own way, and Lou will discover this fact sooner or 
 later." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Whately was compelled to rate these vaporings 
 at their true worth, seeing that between wine, anger and 
 long indulged arrogance, he was in a melodramatic mood 
 and beyond reason : so she only said sootliingly, " Please 
 never let P,ouise know that I was aware of Scoville's cap- 
 tivity. After you have rested and have had time to think 
 you will see things differently. I warn you however against 
 I\?rkins," she added solemnly. " If you identify yourself 
 with him in any way you may involve yourself and all of us 
 in ruin. Now come, I will make a bed for you Jt the end 
 
CHUNK'S QUEST. 
 
 207 
 
 of the hnll near my room, and you had better sleep while 
 yon can." 
 
 He readily acquiesced, for even his lurid schemes for the 
 future could keep him awake no longer. In a few moments 
 he was sleeping soundly on a mattress, wrapped in a blanket. 
 His uniform was hung on the back of a chair near him to 
 dry. 
 
 n 
 
 I 
 
Hi 
 
 I 
 
 i! 
 
 
 ^11 
 
 Hi 
 
 io8 
 
 J//.S.V /.or 
 
 cuxv'vv.R Win. 
 
 A r.01,n SCHEMK. 
 
 Vl^N' JINKF.V gained Miss I-ou's room in safety, but 
 jKinting so from tright and exhaustion as to be for a 
 few moments utterly ineapablc of si^eecli. The girl divined 
 that something serious was to be told. To her (juestioning 
 look, the old mammy nodded, glancing meantime al Zany 
 as mueh as to say, "We shouUl be alone." This ([uiek- 
 wilted negress, consumed with curiosity about Chunk, and 
 some deeper interest, resolved not to be sent away, 
 
 " Whv vou U>ok dat away at Miss Lou, Ann' ]inkev?" 
 Zany asked' indignantly. "Time you knowed dat Miss Lou 
 trus' me en I ain' tloin' \\o\}u ter loss dat trus'. vShe know 
 bettah'n vou dat ef dars env ting ter be done I de one ter 
 he'p." 
 
 "We can trust Zany," whispered Miss Lou, who had 
 l>ecomc very pale. *' Vou have some news about Lieutenant 
 Scoville?"' 
 
 " Well, on'y dis, honey. Chunk lookin' fer 'im. Marse 
 Scoville didn't come back turn dat las' fight, he sav, en he 
 say ter me dat ef he toot twiced lak a s(iuinch-owl dat mean 
 I go ter you, fer he need yo' he'p. He des done tooted," 
 and Ann' Jinkey rei)eated all of her grandson's words as far 
 as she could remember them. 
 
 Miss Lou thought a few moments and her face grew very 
 resolute. " Aun' Jinkey," she said, "tell Chunk I will do 
 as he wishes, but he must act carefully and not too hastily. 
 
/ HOLD sen I: Ml: 
 
 209 
 
 alcty, but 
 1)0 tor a 
 ill divined 
 iiostioning 
 c at Zany 
 lis (juick- 
 hunk, and 
 
 Tinkev?" 
 
 Miss Lou 
 
 She know 
 
 e i>ne tcr 
 
 who had 
 lieutenant 
 
 Marse 
 ay, en he 
 dat mean 
 tooted," 
 L-ds as i^x 
 
 grew very 
 I will do 
 o hastily. 
 
 Cousin Mad is already asleep. ( )ne after another will follow 
 his example and fewer will he around hy and by. W^i- must 
 take no risks that can he lu'lped. 'I'he lac t that he wishes 
 lo st-e me in this secret wav is pretty good proof that the 
 Lieulenanl is a prisoner. If he were wounded or — or" — 
 but a rush of tears suggested the word she could not utter. 
 " You had better go now, and lei no one frighten you into 
 telling any thing. Appeal to me if threatened." 
 
 As the old woman was stealing out she met Mrs. IJaron, 
 who asked shari)ly, " What do voti want?" 
 
 " Does yon link I doan wanter know dat ( hiie is safe?" 
 
 " If vou wish to be safe yourself, see lo it you have notliing 
 more to do with that grandson of yours. lie has sinned av. \-; 
 his day of grace, and no mercy will be shown to those who 
 have any thing more to do with him." 
 
 *' I years yon, misus," said Ann' Jinkey, stolidly continuing 
 on her way. 
 
 Miss Lou, who had followed her mammy to the head of 
 the stairs, heard this warning and returned to her room with 
 a stern look. She deemed it best to say nothing and give 
 the impression that she could not endure the sights and 
 sounds below stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Whately entered soon afterwards and did her best to 
 pro])itiate her niece. Miss Lou pretended to be very weary 
 and was glad to see that her aunt actually was so. At last 
 tlu; matron said, " Well, I'll go down once more and see if 
 there is any thitig which I must attend to ; then I shall try to 
 rest a little while Madison is sleeping. Such ex|)eriences as 
 we've had wear one out fast. I advise you, too, my dear, to 
 sleej) when you can." 
 
 "Yes, aunt, I suppose you are right. So much may 
 haj)pen tomorrow." 
 
 Mrs. Whately soon retired, and Miss Ix^il, listening at her 
 'Joor a moment, kn*^w that, she was sleeping/ Then she ro^ 
 
 m 
 
 'W 
 
 ^tf 
 
 
! . r 
 
 ill 
 
 ■ 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 i Ml 
 
 li « r ■ 
 
 iff 
 
 ji 
 
 I 
 
 . I K t 
 
 ,; 
 
 ■: f ': 
 
 2IO 
 
 "j/As.v Ar;^. 
 
 turned to her own room, blew out her candle, opened the 
 window softly and waited for Chunk. *'Zany," she said, "sit 
 in the dark there, and do not speak or let Chunk know you 
 are here, unless permitted." 
 
 Along the most secluded end of the house the [Mazza had 
 not been built, a small lean-to extension taking its place. An 
 apartment was thus formed which could be entered from 
 without as well as from within the dwelling, and here Mr. 
 Baron maintained what was at once a business office and a 
 study. This extension was but one story high, with a roof 
 which sloped to rising ground beyond. Chunk knew that 
 he could easily gain this roof, and from it that of the front 
 piazza also. When returning through the garden Aun' Jinkey 
 had whispered to him not to make the attempt to see Miss 
 Lou until her light was extinguished. Then she added the 
 words that Mrs. Baron had just spoken to her and hastened 
 tremblingly to her own chimney-corner. Chunk made a wide 
 circle, approaching the house again at an angle which would 
 give him a view of Miss Lou's window, and watching till it 
 darkened. From the garden he had carried a small, light 
 ladder which he had used when pruning fruit-trees. He stole 
 near the extension warily, the shrubbery growing in that 
 vicinity favoring his effort, and the heavy pall of clouds 
 obscuring almost entirely the mild radiance of the moon. 
 
 Satisfied by a careful reconnoissance that no one was watch- 
 ing or stirring at that end of the house, with the stealth and 
 agility of a cat he went from roof to roof and crawled to 
 Miss Lou's window. 
 
 " Chunk," she whispered. 
 
 " Dat's me, mistis." 
 
 " You're a good, brave fellow. Now tell me quick — 
 don't waste a word — where is Lieutenant Scoville?" 
 
 "He's wid de pris'ners, en Perkins en sogers watchin' 
 
 'im." 
 
'-o^*. 
 
 (I 
 
 A /iOLD SCHEME. 
 
 21 I 
 
 ''Why is Perkins watching him?" the girl asked in deep 
 alarm. 
 
 " Dunno, Miss Lou, 'cept on 'count oh he grudge. Mad 
 VVhately en he talk knowin'-like en den Perkins tek he lan- 
 tern en jine de gyard. Wen I las' see 'im he watchin' 
 Marse Scoville close." 
 
 " Lieutenant Scoville wasn't hurt, was he ? " 
 
 " Reck'n not. Didn't 'pear dat away, but he look at Per- 
 kins ez ef he feared on 'im. Ef I had ony Perkins ter deal 
 wid I gib Marse Scoville he freedom in pay fer mine, but 
 dar's sogers all aroun' en dey stick me quick ez dey would a 
 pig." 
 
 " O Chunk ! what shall we do ? I could have no influence 
 over the guard or Perkins either. Oh ! o/i ! Mad Whately, 
 you'll end by making me loathe you. To think of employ- 
 ing that treacherous wretch ! " 
 
 "Dat's des w'at I feard on, Miss Lou. Reck'n yo' cousin 
 en Perkins projeckin' some debil trick." 
 
 "You say my cousin has charge of the prisoners?" 
 
 " Yassum. I yeared 'im gib de orders 'bout um, but I 
 too fur off ter year w'at he say." 
 
 " Can you think of any way, Chunk ? " 
 
 " Ef de gyard ony all get ter sleep, I'd tek de risk ob 
 tacklin' Perkins, but dere's too many en I des stumped ter 
 know w'at ter do." 
 
 " Hi ! Miss Lou," whispered listening Zany, " I kin tell 
 you w'at ter do." 
 
 " Doan you pay no 'tention ter her foolishness," said 
 Chunk coolly. " Dis life-en-death business, en Zany out- 
 growed her sense." 
 
 "■ En you ain' growed into your'n," responded Zany. ** Ef 
 you has, why doan you tell Miss Lou 'bout tings dat kin be 
 done 'stead o tmgs dat kyant be?" 
 
 " Well, Zany, what have you to say ? Quick, and speak 
 lower." 
 
 ■% 
 
 
I 
 
 ) 
 
 11 Ij! 
 
 1 
 
 !|j 
 
 ' 
 
 M 
 
 ! ! 
 
 m 
 
 ': ! li 
 
 1,1! 
 
 n 
 n 
 m 
 
 212 
 
 "/T//.V.V Loa " 
 
 " Miss Lou, dar's Mad Whately's coat en pants hangin' 
 out in de hall. You put dem on, en tie yo' arm up in a 
 sling. In de night who say you ain' Marse Whatcly? " 
 
 " () /any ! " exclaimed the girl, appalled at first by the 
 boldness of the scheme. 
 
 "Well, dar now," whispered Chunk, "who'd tink dat ar 
 gyurl got so much gumption ! See yere. Miss Lou, dat de 
 way ef you got de spunk ter do it. Ole Perkins tink you 
 Mad Whately comin' ter play de debil trick en let you tek 
 Marse Scoville way quietly, en de gyard won' 'fere wid you 
 nudder, kase dey un'er yo' cousin. You kin go en lead 
 Marse Scoville right off, en if Perkins follow I settle 'im." 
 
 "Do you think there's no other way? " Miss Lou asketl, 
 with quick, agitated breathing. 
 
 " 'Fo' de Lawd, I doesn't." 
 
 " I don't know what they would do to me in the morning, 
 I'd be sent away. Oh, you can't realize the risk I would 
 take." 
 
 " 'Spects not, mistis. I ony know Marse Scoville tek mo' 
 resk fer you ef he could." 
 
 Chunk had touched the right chord now. She set her 
 white face like flint in the darkness, and said, " I'll make the 
 attempt, no matter what happens to me." 
 
 " Den I des sneak out en get he coat en trousers," Zany 
 whispered. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " En, Miss Lou, you des come out de house dis away wid 
 me en Zany," Chunk added. " Less charnce er bein' 
 stopped. VVe kin go troo de gyardin en de bushes till we 
 mos' whar we kin see Marse Scoville. Mebbe hit berry much 
 plainer w'at ter do arter we get out en look roun'. I hab a 
 ladder yere en you git down mighty easy." 
 
 " Yes, that's the best way. I wish to take no risks o* 
 being seen till after I make my attempt." 
 
A HOLD SCHEME. 
 
 213 
 
 /any rcconnoitri'd tlic hall. No one was in sight. Kven 
 Mrs. }3aron, wi-aricd out, \\m\ retired, and Mr. liaron had 
 resolved to spend the night in the dining-njoin, partly out 
 of courtesy to the Confederate general and partly to be 
 ready for any emergency. In the hall and on the front and 
 rear }Jazzas were alert sentinels who would have observed 
 and reported any unusual proceeding, — therefore Chunk's 
 plan was the only feasible one. In tlie darkness Zanyheljjed 
 Miss Lou don her cousin's uniform and slouched hat which, 
 limp from the rain, fell over her face. She was not so very 
 much shorter than he as to make the fit a bad one when 
 seen in the partial light. The trousers had to be turned up, 
 but that would be cxi)ected on account of the mud. Her 
 plumpness filled out the coat very comfortably and her arm 
 in a sling made the disguise almost i)erfect. 
 
 While Miss Lou was dressing Chunk again reconnoitred 
 and reported the coast clear. It was now about midnight 
 and all were sleeping except those whom imperative duty 
 or pain kept awake. Chunk led the way, steadying Miss 
 Lou with a firm hand, and Zany followed. 
 
 " Now, Miss Lou," Chunk whispered, *' I tek you de 
 s'curest way, so you git back en' nobody see you ef I git 
 cotched." 
 
 They made a circuit to avoid the kitchen and climbed 
 over a low fence into the garden. On tl^e farther side, open- 
 ing on the driveway to the stables, was a gate. Before 
 reaching this, Miss Lou said to Zany, " You stay here. If 
 there's an alarm, go to the kitchen. You must not be known 
 to have had any thing to do with this affair. It might cost 
 you your life." 
 
 '' Ve'y well. Miss Lou." 
 
 The young girl and her guide paused at the gate some 
 moments, for attendants upon the wounded, with whom the 
 out-buildings were filled, were passing to and fro. At last 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 i; m 
 
 % 
 
 m 
 

 i 
 
 v\ 
 
 
 'si' 
 
 \^\l 
 
 214 
 
 "/1//.V.V A Of./." 
 
 they stole across the roadway to the shelter of a clump of 
 trees beyond. From tiiis point they could see the group 
 of prisoners about tlie fire, which was in a rather dying condi- 
 tion. It was evident that some of the guards had succumbed 
 to weariness, but Perkins still watdied with the tirclessncss 
 of hate, his lantern so placed tliat its rays fell on Scoville, 
 who could not make a movement without being observed. 
 Indeed, it was clear that Ik, too, was almost overcome with 
 sleep, for he occasionally nodded and swayed l)efore the fire. 
 
 **Now, Miss Lou," whisi)ered C'hunk, " I gwine ter wake 
 Marse Scoville up by tootin' lak a S(piinch-owl," and he did 
 so briefly. 
 
 The Union officer was much too wary to start and look 
 around, but he gradually proved that he was alert. Close 
 scrutiny of Perkins showed that the signal had no signifi- 
 cance to him. 
 
 " Miss Lou," resumed Chunk, " dere's not'n fcr you but 
 ter walk right down de road ter de fire, berry quiet like, i)ut 
 yo' finger on yo' lips ter Perkins so he tink you 'bout ter 
 play de debil trick, en' den lead Marse Scoville into de 
 gyardin. I'f Perkins foller, I foller 'im. My boss down by 
 de run en we git off dat away." 
 
 The girl drew a long breath and started. Now that she 
 was in the crisis of the emergency a certain innate spirit 
 and courage sustained her. Knowing her cousin so well, 
 she could assume his very gait and manner, while her arm, 
 carried in a sling, perfected a disguise which only broad 
 light would have rendered useless. Her visit caused no sur- 
 prise to the sergeant of the guard, on whom at first she kept 
 her eyes. He merely saluted and thought Lieutenant 
 Whately was attentive to his duty. Perkins was not sur- 
 prised either, yet a little perplexed. As it had been sup- 
 posed and hoped, the thought rose instantly in his revengeful 
 nature that the Confederate officer had some design on 
 
/f /.7'//> Si'ifi'.Mi-:. 
 
 215 
 
 Scovillc. The latter \vnt( lied the form reco^Mii/ed by the 
 others as that of W hately with the closest scrutiny, and an 
 immense throl) of hope stirred his heart, ('onld it be 
 possible? 
 
 Miss Lou lool:cd over the sleeping prisoners for a moment 
 and then, as if satisfii^l, stepped ([uite near to Perkins, guard- 
 in},^ meantime not to permit tiie rays of the lamp to fall on 
 her face. "Leave him to me," she whisjjered, with a nod 
 towards Scoville, and she jnit her fmgcr to her lips. She 
 next touched Scoville on the shoulder and simply said, 
 "Come." 
 
 He rose as if reluctantly and followed. 
 
 Perkins did not suspect the ruse, the disguise was so good 
 and Whately's right to appear so unquestioned ; but he felt 
 defrauded in having no part in the vengeance which he sup- 
 posed would l)c wreaked on Scoville. After a moment or 
 two of thought, he obeyed the impulse to follow, hoping to 
 see what ^^'hatcly intended to do, and if circumstances war- 
 ranted, to be near to help. " If Mad Whately's high-strung 
 notions lead 'im to fight a duel," he thought, " en the Yank 
 comes off best, I'll settle my own score. W^'hately was ter'ble 
 stirred up 'bout the Yank's talkin' ter his cousin, en would 
 like ter kill 'im, but his officer-notions won't let 'im kill the 
 blue-coated cuss ez I would. Ef thar's ter be a fight, I 
 won't be fur off," and he stole after the two figures disap- 
 pearing in the gloom. 
 
 But Nemesis was on his steps. Chunk had shaken with 
 silent laughter as he saw that their scheme was working well, 
 but he never took his eyes from Perkins. Crouching, crawl- 
 ing, he closed on the overseer's track, and when the man 
 passed into the garden, the negro followed. 
 
 As Scoville accompanied Miss Lou, he soon ventured to 
 breathe her name in a tentative way. " Hush ! " she whis- 
 pered. Then his heart beat thick with overpowering emo- 
 
 St! J 
 
 J. 
 
l\ 
 
 u 
 
 !!!< 
 
 5 : 
 
 |i| 
 
 2\6 
 
 "/1//.S'V /.Of/.'' 
 
 tions ofj^ralittidc, admiration and lovo. I'aileriiig tlic garden, 
 slie led the way <|ui( kly towards Aun' Jinkcy's cabin, and at 
 a i)oint where the shrubbery was thickest al)()Ut the path, 
 turned suddenly, put her finger on her nj)s and breathed 
 " Listen." 
 
 'I'hey distinctly heard steps following and diew back into 
 the bushes. Then came the thud of a i)lo\v and the heavy 
 fall of a man. The blow was so severe that not even a groan 
 followed, and for a moment all was still. 'I'hen ('hunk, like 
 a shadow, glided forward and would have passed had not 
 Miss Lou whispered his name. 
 
 *' FoUer me," he answered breathlessly. 
 
 This they did, but Scoville secured the girl's hand and 
 carried it to his lips. The negro led the way beyond the 
 garden to the run, where he had left his horse. " Lis'n 
 onct mo'," he said. " I)at was Perkins I laid out." 
 
 All was still. "Chunk," said Scoville, "go back on your 
 tracks a little and see if there are any signs of alarm." 
 
 Obedience was very prompt, for Chunk muttered as he 
 ran, '• My heart des bustin' 'bout Zany. Got ter lel)e her 
 now, sho ! 'i'er thunk ob her showin' so much gumi)tion ! " 
 
 Scoville again took Mis T.ou's hands. " Oh, hasten, 
 hasten," she said breathlessly, "you are in great danger 
 here." 
 
 " I can scarcely speak to you," he replied, "' my heart 
 is so full. You brave, noble little girl ! How /uwe you 
 accomplished this?" 
 
 Incoherently she told him and again urgetl, " Oh, (/o go 
 at once, for my sake as well as yotfrs, or all may be in vain. 
 I can't breathe until I've put back my cousin's uniform." 
 
 Now that the supreme crisis of danger had ajjparently 
 passed for the moment, she was trembling violently in ner- 
 vous reaction, and could speak only in little gasps. Every 
 instant a deeper appreciation of the immense effort she had 
 
.-f lioi.h S('/f/:.'if/-:. 
 
 217 
 
 liiiul'* in his behalf ovcrwhchiied S< Dvillf, atid for a moment 
 he lost all self-control. Snatchin^^ iicr to his breast he 
 whispered, *' O you little iiero, you little saint, I wish I 
 could shield yon with n\y life. I don't believe you half 
 realize what you have dv)ne for me, bravest, truest, sweet- 
 est"— 
 
 •'Hh. hush," she pleaded, extricating herself from his 
 arms. ** (Jo, pleaae go at once, for my sake." 
 
 *' Yes, my dear girl, I must go soon, more for your sake 
 than mine. With this horse and this start, I am safe. Oh, 
 it's terril)ly hard to leave you." 'i'hen he hooted low to recall 
 ('hunk. "Don't tremble so. After all, it's best to wait a 
 few moments to make sure there is no pursuit. Thank (lod, 
 after what you have done for me to-night you will never for- 
 get me, you will always care for me. Again I see as never 
 before how true it is that a woman cares most for him whom 
 most she has tried to help. You have risked much for me ; 
 I give all to you. Onl) death can keep me from seeking 
 you and living for you always. Remember, I ask nothing 
 which your own heart does not promj)t, but you cannot helj) 
 my giving undying loyally. See, I just kneel to you in homage 
 and gratitude, There never was such a gem of a girl." 
 
 Chunk now appeared, recalled from a more affectionate 
 ])arting than Zany had ever vouchsafed before, and he began 
 to unhitch the horse. 
 
 " ('hunk must go back with you," Scoville began. 
 
 " ( )h, no," she whispered, " I cannot breathe till you both 
 are well away. Chunk would be killed instantly " — 
 
 " No matter ; he has become a soldier like myself and 
 must take all risks. I will not leave this spot — I will go 
 with you myself, rather than leave you here." 
 
 " Why, ob co'se I 'spects ter go back wid you, Miss Lou. 
 You tink I gwine ter lebe you yere en dat ladder dar ter 
 tell de hull business? Come wid me." 
 
 11 
 
 y^'fl 
 
 
 n% 
 
i^ 
 
 II 
 
 In < 
 
 m 
 
 "(I ( ! 
 
 fi; 
 
 111 
 
 ':r 
 
 I'': 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 lU 
 
 . 
 
 " 
 
 2l8 
 
 ''M/SS r.O(r, 
 
 " Well, then, good-by, and (rod keep you, Lieutenant. I 
 shall hope to see you again." 
 
 "To ?,tt. you again will be my dearest hope. Dear, dear 
 little Lou ! how brave you've been ! You've won a soldier's 
 whole heart forever. How can I say good-by? You can't 
 dream how dear you have become to me. Please, one kiss 
 before we separate." 
 
 Yielding to an impulse then not understood, she put her 
 arm swiftly about his neck, kissed him, and turned so 
 rapidly towards her home that Chunk could scarcely keep 
 pace with her. 
 
 They reached the ladder unobserved, and from the roof 
 of the extension the way to Miss Lou's room was easy. 
 Chunk went to a point from which he could watch the girl 
 enter her apartment. Putting the ladder back into the 
 garden, he rejoined Scovill^, and together they made their 
 way in the direction of the retiring L'nion column. Scoviile 
 never wearied in (juestioning his attendant about every 
 detail of Miss I,ou's action, while conjectures as to her 
 experiences often robbed him of sleep. Never was a man 
 more completely won and held in love's sweet thraldom. 
 
 On regaining her room. Miss Lou hastily threw off her 
 cousin's clothes and resumed her own apparel. Then she 
 softly and cautiously opened her door. With the exception 
 of sounds in the lower hall, all was still, and she slipped out 
 in her stocking-feet, replaced the uniform on the chairs, 
 stole back and bolted her door. For half an hour she sat 
 panting on her chair, listening to every sound. Only the 
 groans of the wounded smote her ears. " Oh, thank God ! 
 I do not hear his voi(!e among them," she half sobbed, in 
 })ity for those who were suffering. "Well, I can best forget 
 my anxiety about him by doing something for these poor 
 men. Oh, how strange and true his words are ! He 
 touched my heart at first by just being helpless when he fell 
 

 A BOLD SC/fEAfE. 
 
 2\() 
 
 by the run, and every tiling I do for him seems tu make 
 hirn dearer. It cannot be that I shall never see him again. 
 Oh, when shall I forget the way he took me in his arms ? 
 It seemed as if he gave me his whole heart then and 
 couldn't help himself." 
 
 There was a near mutter of thunder. In her deep pre- 
 occupation she had not noticed the coming of another 
 shower. It proved a short but heavy one, and she exulted. 
 "The rain will obliterate all our tracks." 
 
 Calmer thought led to the conclusion that the affair would' 
 be very serious for her if her part in it was discovered. She 
 had acted almost without thought, without realizing the risks 
 she had incurred, and now the possible consequences so 
 appalled her that she resolved to be on her guard in every 
 possible way. " He knew, he understood the risk I took 
 better than I did then, better than I do now, perhaps," she 
 breathed softly. " That's so fine in him — that way he has 
 of making me feel that one's worth being cared for." She 
 was far too excited and anxious to sleep. Wrapping herself 
 u]), she watched at her window. Soon the stars began to 
 twinkle beneath the clouds in the west, showing that this 
 last shower was a clearing one, and that the radiance of the 
 moon might soon be undimmed. The fires along the ridge 
 which, as she believed, still defined the Union position, were 
 burning low. Suddenly flashes and reports of firearms in 
 that direction startled her. 
 
 1 
 
 ;i' 
 
 w 
 
Itlil 
 
 1, ' 
 
 H ^ 
 
 i 
 
 1 !| i i 
 
 Hi ;, 
 
 1 . i! 
 
 220 
 
 "A//.V.S" Z6>^. " 
 
 ! I h 
 
 I 
 
 ! •■ 
 
 IJ^II 
 
 'ii 
 
 li ; :;1 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A HOME A HOSPITAL. 
 
 THE sudden niglit alarm caused by firing on the ridge 
 can be easily explained. Wearied as were the Con- 
 federate general and his men, and severe as had been the 
 repulse of their first attack, both were undaunted and, after 
 rest and refreshment, eager to bring the battle to a more 
 decisive issue, and it was determined to learn long before 
 morning whether the Federg,l force was on the ridge or not. 
 During the last shower a reconnoitring party was sent out 
 stealtliily, a few of the rear-guard captured, from whom it 
 was learned that the Union column had been on the march 
 for hours. 
 
 Mrs. Whately was wakened and helped her disabled son 
 to dress in haste. Little did Miss Lou know about the term 
 a///u', but she had the shrewdness to show herself and to 
 ai)pear much alarmed. Opening her door, she gave a 
 glimpse of herself in night attire with her long hair hariging 
 over her shoulders, and cried, *' Oh, oh, are we attacked? " 
 
 "If we are you may have sad reason to wish that you had 
 obeyed me this morning," replied her cousin sternly. " You 
 no more understand your folly and danger than a child. 
 Now I'm compelled to look after my prisoners first," and he 
 rushed away. 
 
 " Come in my room, Louise," said her aunt. " Whatever 
 happens, it is best that we should be together." The girl 
 was so agitated, fearing that in some way her adventures 
 
A HOME A HOSPITAL. 
 
 221 
 
 might be discovered, that she had no occasion to feign 
 alarm. Mrs. Whately sought only to soothe and quiet, also 
 to extenuate her son's words. '* I don't suppose we truly 
 realize yet, as Madison does, what war means," she con- 
 cluded. 
 
 Mr. Baron soon sent up word that there was no special 
 occasion for further fears, and that the ladies might sleep if 
 they could, until morning. 
 
 But there was no more sleep for Mad Whately. As 'soon 
 as he reached the spot where the prisoners had been kept 
 he asked sharply, " Where is that Yankee officer and 
 Perkins?" 
 
 The man then on duty answered, " The sergeant I relieved 
 said that you took 'im away, sir, and that the man named 
 Perkins followed you." 
 
 "There's been treachery here," cried Whately in a rage. 
 " Bring that sergeant here." 
 
 The weary man was half dragged in his sleep to the officer 
 and there thoroughly awakened by a volley of oaths. He 
 stolidly told his story, concluding, " I cud a sworn it was 
 you, and the overseer followed less'n three minutes after 
 you left." 
 
 " ' I left ' — curse you — don't say that again. You've been 
 fooled or was asleep and neglected your duty." 
 
 "Well then, sir," was the dogged reply, "find that over- 
 seer who was a watchin' the Yank like a cat. Ast 'im ; ast 
 my men ef I wasn't awake en ef I ciidn't s'lute you soon ez 
 you come. There's the overseer's lantern burnin' yet jis 
 whar he left it." 
 
 At this moment Perkins came staggering towards the fire, 
 with both hands to his head as if tryiug to hold it together, 
 His clothes were muddy, his face was ghastly and he stared 
 at Whately as if the officer was also a part of a horrid 
 drtjarr»i 
 
 \ 
 
 %: 
 
 "'it 
 
; I 
 
 til) 
 i i- 
 
 I' i 
 
 f if 
 
 
 iij! 
 
 
 Ik 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 1. 
 
 i 
 
 ILL I 
 
 ~ ■ ■ 
 
 i::| 
 
 222 
 
 "yl//5'6- L0(/." 
 
 Whately seized him roughly by the arm and said sternly, 
 ** Speak, man. What does all this mean ? Where's the 
 Yank?" 
 
 " For God's sake, quit," cried Perkins. " I'm nigh dead 
 now. You've got me in anuff trouble for one night." 
 
 "Trouble — you! What's )Our trouble to mine? I'm 
 responsible for these prisoners. Now where's that Yank? 
 Quick, or you 7{ji// have trouble." 
 
 V I ain't seen 'im since yer toolj 'im away — yo//. I ain't 
 one of your understrappers. Ez I wuz follerin' yer some one 
 knocked me down from behind and nigli onto killed me. I 
 jes gittin' my senses back." 
 
 Although so enraged, Whately knew that as a soldier he 
 must curb his passion, report the facts inmiediately and see 
 what could be done. His superior officer was called, all the 
 parties questioned closely, the garden and Aun' Jinkey's 
 cabin searched, but no new facts discovered. The old 
 negress was savagely threatened, but she only replied, " I 
 dunno, I dunno not'n. W'at got inter you ter tink an ole 
 tottery, skeered ooman lak me gwine out in de dark en 
 knock Marse Perkins on de haid?" 
 
 "Where's your grandson, Chunk?" Whately demanded 
 fiercely. 
 
 " He des light out wid de Yankees dis et'nin'." 
 
 The conclusion guessed at was that Scoville had been 
 rescued by his own men, who were known to be daring 
 scouts. In the darkness and confusion after the batUe, it 
 was thought they had mingled with the Conftxlerates, learned 
 the situation of their leader and the general appearance of 
 Whately with his disabled arm. Arrayed in the Southern 
 uniform, of which scouts always had a supply, and favored 
 by the sleepy condition of the guard, one of the scouts had 
 played the trick which Whately rued so bitterly. Others, 
 on the watch, had struck down Perkins and carried Scoville 
 
.-f HOME A //OSr/'fAL. 
 
 223 
 
 f 
 
 off in safety. No other theory they could hit upon ex- 
 I)Iainc(l so well what was known. The tricked sergeant was 
 placed under arrest, and ^\'hatcly, who had gone to slee[) 
 with such high and mighty notions of his prowess and 
 friendly league with fate, found inniself in jjartial disgrace 
 and in the deptlis of mortification. He kept guard over his 
 prisoners in person the remainder of the night and again 
 had opportunity to repent at leisure. He mentally cursed 
 himself as a fool, for now he remembered his mother's words. 
 If he had shown leniency to Scoville, and brought him into 
 the house, he might have kept the prisoner and won the 
 good-will of his cousin. Now, she would probably hear tne 
 humiliating facts and be less inclined either to fear or favor 
 him. It was well that no suspicion on his part or that of 
 others had fallen on her, for she was not one who could face 
 coolly a severe cross-questioning. 
 
 ''erkins skulked off to his house, assuaged his aching head 
 with cold water and his wounded spirit with whiskey. As 
 he tried to think the matter over a vague suspicion of the 
 truth began to enter his confused brain. The little slipper 
 with which he had been hit over the eyes in the morning 
 now became a broad hint. He knew well, however, that it 
 would be dangerous to make any charges, or even sugges- 
 tions, unless he had ample proof. 
 
 When all became quiet again Miss Lou, in spite of deep 
 anxieties, was overcome by extreme w^eariness and slept 
 until, in a dream, she heard Scoville moaning and sighing 
 in the extremity of physical pain. Starting up, she saw it 
 was broad day. She passed her hand confusedly over her 
 brow and tried to recall what had occurred, to understand 
 the sounds which had suggested her dream. Then in a 
 flash, the strange swirl of events in which she was involved 
 presented itself and she knew she had wakened to other 
 experiences beyond even her imagination. The groans of 
 
 V^ 
 
 
 n 
 
 "i 
 
 ii 
 
 '« \\ 
 
f; !l ( 
 
 .'^24 
 
 "M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 ii' 
 
 
 !|i 
 
 \\\\ 
 \\\\ 
 
 V Hi 
 
 ! s; 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 ,1 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 i 
 
 r 
 
 j. 
 
 
 , ■ 
 
 If! 
 
 
 t 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 f ' 
 
 
 \\ w 
 
 wounded men brought pitiful tears to her eyes and steadied 
 her nerves by banishing the thought of self. Whatever 
 might befall her, so much worse was the fate of others that 
 already she was i)assing into the solemnity of spirit inspired 
 by the presence of mortal pain and death. She drew the 
 curtains of her window and then shrunk back, shuddering 
 and sobbing, for scattered over the lawn, men and horses 
 lay stark and motionless. More pitiful still, here and there 
 a wounded horse was struggling feebly. The spring morn- 
 ing, dewy, bright, fragrant, made these evidences of strife 
 tenfold more ghastly. There could not be a more terrible 
 indictment of war than nature's peaceful loveliness. 
 
 By the time she was dressed she was joined by Mrs. 
 VVhately, who looked serious indeed. Before they could 
 descend to the lower hall, Madison, haggard and gloomy of 
 aspect, intercepted them. Looking at his cousin's red eyes 
 and pale face, he asked abruptly, "What's the matter?" 
 
 " Do you think I ain accustomed to these sights and 
 sounds?" she answered. 
 
 " Oh," he said, in a tone which seemed to her heartless, 
 " it's an old story to me. Mother, I must speak alone with 
 you a moment." 
 
 She turned back with him to her room, meantime saying, 
 " Louise, I do not think you had better go down without 
 me." 
 
 The girl tremblingly returned to her apartment, fearing 
 that now she might be forced to confront her own actions. 
 But she was conscious of a sort of passive courage. Mad 
 Whately's anger, or that of others, was a little thing com- 
 pared to the truth that men were dead and dying all about 
 her. 
 
 " Mother," said her son, " 1 had cursed luck last night. 
 1 wish I had slept on the rain-soaked ground near my pris 
 *^nf>r««<" find he told her what; had happi^nRdj 
 
m 
 
 A ifOME A iiosrrTAf., 
 
 22; 
 
 "() Madison ! " sighed Mrs. Whately, *' I wish this expe- 
 rience would teacli you to be more guided ])y me. Louise 
 cared nothing for this Yankee, except in a sort of grateful, 
 friendly way. Through him, you could have done so much 
 to disarm " — 
 
 " Oh, well, mother, the milk is spilled. If possible, let 
 the whole affair be kept from her knowledge." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose that will be the best way. If she hears 
 about it, we must try to explain by the usages of war. Now 
 Madison, you are cool. Let experience be your teacher, for 
 you 7niist face the truth. You must either give her up " — 
 
 " I'll never give her up." 
 
 "Then, as Major Brockton said, you must win her like a 
 Southern gentleman. Her spirit is as high as yours. You 
 can't continue to speak to her as you did last night and this 
 morning. Try to realize the facts. In the seclusion of her 
 bringing up, Louise has learned nothing of the convention- 
 alities of society which might incline her towards a good 
 match on general principles. So far from this, the many 
 old-fashioned romances she has read havp made her feel that 
 she must and will have her romance. If you can make 
 Louise feel that you love her so well as to become her gal- 
 lant suitor, circumstances may soon give you great advan- 
 tages. She may be cold and indifferent for a time, but like 
 all passionate, high-strung natures, present impulses against 
 may turn just as strongly for you. At least you have not to 
 conteiid with that most fatal of all attitudes — indifference. 
 A great change in you will be a flattering tribute to her 
 power to which no girl would be indifferent. I must tell 
 you now once for all that I will not again assist m any high- 
 handed measures against Louise. Not only the futility of 
 such action, but my own dignity and sense of right, forbid 
 It. I did not understand her at first. Now that I do, I am 
 all the more eager to call her daughter ; but I wish her to 
 
 't 
 
 »■'! 
 
 •1^ 
 
 .. ^U 
 
 } 
 
li 
 
 226 
 
 "Af/.s's /.or'.** 
 
 I'll 
 
 III! 
 
 n 
 
 m 
 
 ';■ 
 
 
 
 ■1.1' 
 
 i! ! 
 
 feel towards me as she should in such a relation. Yesterday, 
 when I apologised and told her that I meant to treat her 
 with kindness and fairness, she kissed me like the vvurm- 
 heartcd girl she is. I will help you win her as a man should 
 win his wife ; I will not be d'-agged into any more false posi- 
 tions which can end only in humiliation. I will be your 
 tireless ally in the only way you can succeed, but in no 
 other." 
 
 " Very well, mother, I agree," said Whately, whose nature 
 it was to react from one extreme to another. 
 
 " Ah, now I have hope. How is your arm? " 
 
 " It pains horribly." 
 
 Mrs. Whately went to Miss Lou's room and said, *' For- 
 give me for keeping you waiting. Madison is almost beside 
 himself with pain in his arm, and I will be detained a little 
 longer." 
 
 In her immense relief that she was not charged with all 
 she dreaded, Miss Lou had leisure from her fears to feel 
 commiseration for her cousin. When at last he appeared 
 she said kindly, " I am sorry you are suffering so much." 
 
 " If I thought you really cared I wouldn't mind the pain," 
 he replied. " Cousin Lou, I owe an apology, several, I 
 reckon, but I've been so distracted between conflicting feel- 
 mgs, duties and pain, that 1 scarcely know what I say." 
 
 " You little know me if you think I'm weighing 7vords at 
 this time," she replied. " Come, let us forget the past, 
 shake hands and remember that we are simply cousins." 
 
 He took her hand instantly, but said, " You ask what is 
 impossible. Suppose yovi had said, 'Just remember your 
 arm is well from this mL' lent,' would it be well? I cannot 
 help my feelings towards you and don't wish to." 
 
 " Very well, then," she sighed, " I cannot help mine 
 either. I don't wish to talk on that subject any more." 
 
 " Then I must plead by actions. Well, I musl go now," 
 
A NOME A IfOSPITAf.. 
 
 '">'> 
 
 2; 
 
 >se nature 
 
 JO now,' 
 
 Mrs. )VIiat(.'Iy was much i)Icasi'(l, for her son was atlopling 
 just the course she desired. She added nothing and accom- 
 panied Louise down stairs. - 
 
 The ami)utating table had been removed and the halls 
 cleansed, but the unmistakable odor of the hosi)ital pervaded 
 the house. Every apartment on the first floor except the 
 dining-room was filled with the wounded. Some were 
 flushed and feverish by reason of their injuries, others, pallitl 
 from loss of blood and ebbing vital forces. 
 
 The Confederate ■ ral, with his staff, had already made 
 a hasty breakfast and departed ; through the open door 
 came the mellow sound of bugles and the songs of birds, 
 but within were irrepressible sighs and groans. Mrs. Whately 
 entered the spacious j)arlor on the floor of which Confeder- 
 ate officers lay as close as space for attendance upon them 
 permitted. The young girl paused on the threshold and 
 looked around with a pitying, tearful face, A white-haired 
 colonel was almost at her feet. As he looked up and recog- 
 nized her expression, a pleased smile illumined his wan, drawn 
 face. " Don't be frightened, my child," he said gently. 
 
 The swift glance of her secured attention took in his con- 
 dition. His right arm was gone and he appeared ghastly 
 from loss of blood. In her deep emotion she dropped on 
 her knees beside him, took his cold hand and kissed it as 
 she said, " Please let me help you and others get well." 
 
 The old man was strongly touched by her unexpected 
 action, and he faltered, " Well, my child, you make us all 
 feel that oiir Southern girls are worth fighting for and, if 
 need be, dying for. Yes, you can help us, some of us, in 
 our dying perhaps, as well as in our mending. My battles 
 are over. You can help best by caring for younger, stronger 
 men." 
 
 " Such men will not begrudge you any thing, sir." 
 
 *' Bravo ! " cried half a dozen voices, and an officer near 
 
 % 
 
 I 
 
 ■ I'-i'j 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 
 iLil, 
 
I 
 
 ill I 
 
 I 
 
 iill'! 
 
 1.1 ; 
 ' ( 1 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 'j 
 
 ;'/i 
 
 8 '] . . . 
 
 MM! 
 
 n 
 
 
 ii!': 
 
 228 
 
 'M//.S'.V LOi\'' 
 
 added, " Miss Ijiiron speaks as well and true as you fought, 
 Colonel." 
 
 She looked hastily around. Seeing many friendly smiles 
 and looks of honest good-will and admiration she rose 
 confusedly, saying, " I must go to work at once." 
 
 " I think, Louise," said Mrs. Whately, joining her in the 
 hall, " we can accomi)lish most if we work much together 
 and under the directions of the surgeons. It is evident 
 from the numbers of the wounded that time, strength, f(Jod, 
 — every thing will have to be used to the best advantage. 
 I'm glad that we both got some sleep last night. Now, I 
 insist, liefore you do a thing you must have a cup of hot 
 coffee and some nourishing food yourself. The best im- 
 pulses in the world are not equal to the tasks before us. 
 Indeed, we shall fail these poor men in their sore need if we 
 do not keep our strength. The worst is yet to come. As 
 far as you can, control your feelings, for emotion wears 
 faster than work. Let's first go to the kitchen." 
 
 Zany followed from the dining-room with her hands full 
 of dishes. She gave Miss Lou a swift, significant glance, 
 and that was all. Even she was sobered by the scenes wit- 
 nessed that morning and the thought of Chunk's indefinite 
 absence. Aun* Suke sat dozing in a corner, absolutely worn 
 out, and other negroes from the (juarters had been pressed 
 into the service. Mrs. Baron was superintending their 
 efforts to supply soup and such articles of diet as the sur- 
 geons had ordered. " Ole miss " now shone to advantage 
 and had the executive ability of a general. In cool, sharp, 
 decisive tones she gave her orders, which were obeyed 
 promptly by assistants awed into forgetfulness of every thing 
 else except the great, solemn emergency. All differences 
 had disappeared between the two ladies, and they began 
 consulting at once how best to meet the prolonged demands 
 pow clearly foreseen. 
 
/t HOME 4 ifosri iAL> 
 
 229 
 
 "The confusion and ronflit ting rLMpiircnK'nts arc just 
 awful," said Nfrs. IJaron. "As soon as possible, we must 
 bring about some system and order. One of the first things 
 to do is to get as many provisions and delicacies as possible 
 under lork and key, esjjecially the coffee and sugar. 'I'hey 
 are going to give out anyway, before long.'' 
 
 Miss Lou stole away and ran to Ann' Jinkey's cabin. 
 Soldiers had taken possession of it and were cooking and 
 eating their Ijreakfasts. Some recognized the girl politely 
 as she stood at the door, while others continued their occu- 
 pation in stolid indifference. .Aim' Jinkey rose tottering 
 from a corner and came to the door-stej). " You see how 
 'tis, honey," she said. " Dey des gwine on ez cf I ain' ycre. 
 I a hun'erd yeahs ol'er dan 1 wuz w'en you want sump'n 
 ter hap'n." 
 
 " Take courage, mammy," Miss Lou whispered. " Chunk's 
 safe. \\2i\Q you had any breakfast?" 
 
 " I can't eat, honey, w'en ev'y ting des a whirlin'." 
 
 The girl darted away and in a few moments returned 
 with a cup of coffee. Entering the cabin, she said, " Fair 
 play, gentlemen. This is my old mammy's cabin and this 
 her place here in the corner oy the hearth. Will you do 
 me the favor of being kind to her and letting her remain 
 undisturbed ? Then you can use her fireplace all you 
 please." 
 
 The Southern soldiers, understanding so well the relation 
 between the girl and the old woman, agreed with many 
 good-natured protestations, offering to share with Aun' 
 Jinkey their rude breakfast. 
 
 By the time the girl had returned to the house, she found 
 that Zany and others had prepared a second breakfast in 
 the dining-room for the family and such of the officers 
 whose wounds were so slight as to permit their presence at 
 the table. Miss Lou was placed between her cousin and a 
 
 m 
 
<lll , 
 
 III! ■ 
 
 !.: ' 
 
 230 
 
 'M//.S.V /.()(/. 
 
 yoiiii^', (l.irk-cytMl offic it who was introdiucd as Captain 
 MayiKinl. Hi- also carried his left arm in a shn^'. 
 
 Mrs. W'liatcly sat in Mr. Ilaron's place, sin( e h»', after a 
 ni^'ht's vigils, had retired to obtain a little sleep. " Louise," 
 Siiid the lady, "you will havu-to begin being useful at once. 
 \"ou have a disabled man on either side of you for whom 
 you must i>repare food." 
 
 "Miss Maron," said ('ai)tain Mayiiiud gallantly, "I am 
 already more than reconciled to my wound. Any thing that 
 you prepare for me will be ambrosia." 
 
 ^\'hately frowned as he heard these words and saw the 
 immediate impression made by his cousin upon his brother 
 officer ; but a warning glance from his mother led him to 
 vie in compliments. liefore very long Maynard remarked 
 S(>/(> voir, " If you aid -n healing the wounds made by the 
 Yanks, Miss Baron, who will heal the wounds I'^v/ make?" 
 
 " I shall not make any, s'ir. Such thoughts, even in jest, 
 wound me at this time. Please excuse me, I've had all the 
 breakfiist I wish, and I cannot rest till I am doing something 
 for those who are suffering so much." 
 
 He rose instantly and drew l)ack her chair. In sitting 
 down again, he encountered W'hately's eyes, and recognized 
 the jealousy and anger already excited. 
 
 m 
 
 w. 
 
--/ IKIBUTE TO A SOUTllLRX UIKL, 
 
 231 
 
 CMAITER XXV. 
 
 ll 
 
 A TRIHUTK TO A SOUTHKR.V CIKr,. 
 
 ISS LOU entered upon her duties as hospital nurse at 
 once. Untraninielled even by the knowledge of con- 
 ventionahties, and with the (Hreetness and fearlessness of a 
 brave child, she went from one to another, her diffidence 
 (luickly banished by her profound sympathy. 'I'he enlisted 
 men on the piazzas received her chief attentions, nor was 
 she long in discovering the Federal wountled, crowding the 
 out-buildings and offices. 
 
 With the excej)tion of a rear-guard and hospital attend- 
 ants the Confederate forces had marched in pursuit of the 
 Union column. The dead were buried during the morning 
 and the ghastlier evidences of strife removed. Along the 
 edge of the grove tents were pitched, some designed for the 
 soldiers, others for the better accommodation and isolation 
 of certain critical cases. The negroes i)erformed most of 
 the labor, Uncle Lusthah counseUing patience and (juiet 
 acceptance of their lot for the present. The prisoners were 
 sent South. Confederate surgeon Ackley was in charge of 
 the hospital, while upon Whately was conferred the military 
 command. His partial disablement would not prevent him 
 from attending to the light duties of the position, the surgeon 
 being practically the superior officer. Order was quickly 
 restored, guards set at important points, and the strangely 
 assorted little community passed speedily under a simple 
 yet rigorous military government. Curiosity, desire of gain. 
 
 
 1 ' 
 
 ' "it 
 
 I 
 
 i m 
 
 -\n 
 
 of: 
 
' 
 
 !i!l 
 
 I 
 
 i < 
 
 >u 
 
 . 1 
 
 i 
 
 !.': 
 
 B', 
 
 'iir 
 
 ill 
 
 !•> ,ji;i 
 
 232 
 
 "M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 as well as sympathy, led people to flock to the plantation 
 from far and near. One of surgeon Ackley's first steps was 
 to impress upon all the need of provisions, for Mr. Baron's 
 larder, ample as it had been, was speedily exhausted. 
 During the day began the transfer of the slightly wounded 
 to the nearest railroad town, where supplies could be ob- 
 tained with more certainty, and it was evident that the 
 policy of abandoning the remote plantation as soon as 
 possible had been adopted. 
 
 Miss Lou knew nothing of this and simply became 
 absorbed in successive tasks for the time being. 
 
 *'' Miss Baron," said surgeon Ackley, " a number of the 
 men are so disabled that they cannot feed themselves. 
 Proper food at the right time usually means life ' 
 
 These words suggested what became one of her principal 
 duties. At first, rough men were surprised and grateful 
 indeed to find a fair young girl kneeling beside them with a 
 bowl of hot soup ; then they began to look for her and 
 welcome her as f)ne who evoked their best and most chival- 
 rous feelings. It had soon been evident to her that the 
 woundea officers in the house would receive the most care- 
 ful attention from the regularly appointed attendants and 
 also from Mrs. Whately. With the exception of the old 
 colonel, she gradually began to devote the most of her time 
 to the enlisted men, finding among them much less embar- 
 rassment in her labors. With the latter class among the 
 Confederates, there was not on either side a consciousness 
 of social equality or an effort tQ maintain its amenities. 
 The relation was the simple one of kindness bestowed and 
 received. 
 
 The girl mau^ the acquaintance of the Union wounded 
 with feelings in which doubt, curiosity and sympathy were 
 strangely blended. Her regard for Scoville added to her 
 peculiar interest in his compatriots. They were the enemies 
 
A TRIBUTE TO A SOUTHERN GIRL. 
 
 -JO 
 
 H- \. 
 
 of whom she had heard so much, having been represented 
 as more aHen and foreign than if they had come across the 
 seas and spoke a different tongue. How they would receive 
 her had been an anxious query from the first, but she quickly 
 learned that her touch of kindness made them kin — that 
 they welcomed her in the same spirit as did her own people, 
 while they also were animated by like curiosity and wonder- 
 ing interest in regard to herself. A woman's presence in a 
 field hospital was in itself strange and unexpected. That 
 this woman should be a Southern girl, whose lovely features 
 were gentle in commiseration, instead of rigid from an 
 imperious sense of duty to foes, was a truth scarcely ac- 
 cepted at first. Its fuller comprehension began to evoke 
 an homage which troubled the girl. She was too simple 
 and honest to accept such return for what seemed the 
 natural offices of humanity ; yet, while her manner and 
 words checked its expression, thev only deepened the 
 feeling. 
 
 At first she could scarcely distinguish among the bronzed, 
 begrimed faces, but before the day passed there were those 
 whose needs and personal traits enlisted her special regard. 
 This was true of one middle-aged Union captain, to whom 
 at first she had no call to speak, for apparently he was not 
 very seriously wounded. Even before his face was cleansed 
 from the smoke and dust of battle his large, dark eyes and 
 magnificent black beard caught her attention. Later on, 
 when feeding a helpless man near him, he spoke to her 
 and held out a photograph. She took it and saw the 
 features of a blond young girl scarcely as old as herself. 
 
 "■ My little girl,'* said the officer simply. " See how she 
 resembles her mother. That's one reason why I so idolize 
 her," and he handed Miss Lou another picture, that of a 
 sweet, motherly face, to which the former likeness bore the 
 resemblance of bud to blossom, 
 
 '1 
 
 
 
 -! 
 
 %. 
 
! 
 
 I ' 
 
 
 :^{| jii 
 
 I ' 
 
 ' 
 
 W\ 
 
 III Hi! 
 
 ) t 
 
 11 S' i 
 
 234 
 
 "Af/SS LOUr' 
 
 ** We must try to get you well soon, so that you may go 
 back to them," said Miss Lou cordially. "You are not 
 seriously hurt, I hope ? " 
 
 " No, I think not. I wanted you to see them so you can 
 imagine how they will look when I tell them about you. 
 I don't need to be reminded of my little Sadie, but I almost 
 see her when you come among us, and I think her blue eyes 
 would have much the same expression as yours. God bless 
 you, for you are blessing those whom you regard as your 
 enemies. We don't look very hostile though, do we?" 
 
 " It seems a terrible mistake that you should be here at 
 all as enemies," she replied. " I have been taught to dread 
 your coming more than if you \^tre Indians. I never can 
 understand why men who carry "urh pictures as these next 
 their heart can fight against us." 
 
 " Well, Miss Baron, you must try to believe that we would 
 not have left the dear originals of such pictures unless we 
 had felt we must, and there let the question rest. Our lives 
 are sweet to us, although we risk them, chiefly because so 
 dear to those at he me. Let the thought cheer you in your 
 work that you are keeping tears from eyes as good and kind 
 as your own. That's another reason why I showed you the 
 likenesses." 
 
 " It will be but another motive," she said. " A suffering 
 man, whether friend or enemy, is enough." 
 
 She smiled as she spoke, then picked her way across the 
 wide barn-floor and disappeared. Every eye followed her, 
 pain all forgotten for the moment. 
 
 " By G — d ! " exclaimed a rough fellow, drawing his 
 sleeve across his eyes, " I'm hard hit, but I'll crawl to and 
 choke the first man who says a word she oughtn't to hear 
 when she's around." 
 
 " If you can keep your own tongue civil, Yarry, you'll 
 have your hands full," said a comrade. 
 
■M 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO A SOUTHERN GIRL. 
 
 
 yrou may go 
 DU are not 
 
 so you can 
 about you. 
 )ut I almost 
 er blue eyes 
 God bless 
 ard as your 
 )we?" 
 d be here at 
 ^ht to dread 
 
 I never can 
 5 these next 
 
 lat we would 
 
 es unless we 
 
 Our lives 
 
 because so 
 
 you in your 
 
 |od and kind 
 
 wed you the 
 
 A suffering 
 
 [y across the 
 )llowed her, 
 
 |:lrawing his 
 rawl to and 
 tn't to hear 
 
 ''arry, you'll 
 
 "Well, I be blankety blank-blanked if that girl doesn't 
 rout the devil out of a fellow, hoof and horns." 
 
 " You're right, my man," said the Union captain, " and 
 your feelings do you credit. Now I have a suggestion to 
 make. Not one of us is capable of using a word before her 
 that she shouldn't hear, if not out of our heads. We can 
 pay her a better tribute than that. Let us decide to speak 
 in her absence as if she were present. That's about all we 
 can do in return for her kindness. She won't know the cost 
 to us in breaking habits, but we will, and that's better. We 
 all feel that we'd like to spill some more of our blood for the 
 girl who fed Phillips yonder as if he were a baby. Well, let 
 us do the only thing we can — speak as if our mothers 
 heard us all the "time, for this gi^rl's sake." 
 
 '' 1 be blanked if 1 don't agree, and may the devil fly 
 away with the man who doesn't," cried Yarry. 
 
 " Ah, Yarry," said the captain, laughing, " you'll have the 
 hardest row of any of us to hoe. We'll have to let you off 
 for some slips." 
 
 Then began among the majority a harder fight than that 
 for life — a fight with inveterate habit, an effort to change 
 \trnacular, almost as difficult as the learning of a new 
 language. For some time Miss Lou did not know nor 
 understand. Word had been passed to other and smaller 
 groups of the Union wounded in other buildings. The 
 I)ltdge was soon known as " A Northern Tribute to a 
 Southern Girl." It was entered into with enthusiasm and 
 kept with a pathetic effort which many will not understand. 
 Varry positively began to fail under the restraint he imposed 
 upon himself His wound caused him agony, and profanity 
 would have been his natural expression of even slight annoy- 
 ance. All day long grisly oaths rose to his lips. Now and 
 tlien an excruciating twinge would cause a half-uttered ex- 
 pletive to burst forth like a projectile. A deep groan would 
 
 Hi 
 
 m 
 m 
 
 'ill 
 
 in II 
 

 ii 
 
 » < 
 
 m 
 
 HI 
 
 f < 
 
 .^^> 
 
 ,l//.vs /()/•. 
 
 follow. ;\s tlu' ninn brcnnio rigitl in his stnij;,ul(' fctr sell 
 rontrol. 
 
 *' Van y." (Miod Caplain Iliinruld. who Imd suggested Iht 
 pledge. " lot yoiUNoir go, lor (iod's sake. N'oii have shown 
 more heroisni to-day than I in all my life. N\"e will make 
 yon an exeeption and put yon on parole to hold in onl\ 
 while Miss Haron is here." 
 
 " I ix^— -<>h. Mank it ! TW\^ is going to be the death o\' 
 nn\ hovs. The Rebs gave mc hell with this wonnd. Ihil 
 for (mmTs sake don't ]c\ Ium' know, just let her think I'm 
 ( wil like the u^st o\ you. Wouldn't she ojhmi iheni blue 
 eyes if she knew a man was dyin'. just holdin' in <ussin' on 
 her aei^innt. Ha. ha. ha ! She'd think I ^^as a sort o[ a 
 \'ankee devil, worse than the Injins she expeeted. Don't 
 let her know. I'll be (|niet enoiigh before long. Then like 
 enough she'd look at me an«l say, ' Poor fellow I he won't 
 make anv more trouble.' " 
 
 W'hately had a busv da/ and lelt that he had a rejMitation 
 to regain. He therelore bravelv endured nmeh phvsieal 
 ]>am in his arm and gave \erv close attention to duty. 
 Captain Nfavnard, on the contrarv. had nothing to do, and 
 his woimd was only severe eninigh to make him restless. 
 The young girl whom he had met at breaktast at once beeann- 
 by far the most interesting subject tor thought and obje<l ol 
 ohsonation. He was a young fellow of the t>rdmary roman 
 tie tyi^e. hastv. suseejitible. as ready to tight as to eat, and 
 l>ossessed of the idea that the wav to win a girl was to ajipear 
 her smitten, abjeet slave. The jussing hours were ages to 
 1iim m contrast to his ]>revious activity, and as he watched 
 >tiss l.on going about <mi her errands o\' men \ he quickly 
 passed tiom one stage to another o\ admiral ii>n and ideal 
 i/.ation. Reniembering the look that Whately had given 
 him in the morning, he manitained a distant atlituile ai 
 lust, ilunking his brotlier otticer had claims which he must 
 
^1 ii 
 
 1 1 in] ) 
 
 ,'i rianr Th: ro a sorrnEKX (,iri 
 
 2^7 
 
 icsiuM I. As lu> \v;iml(>n'<| uneasily aniund, lunvfNcr, lie di , 
 Mt\oii'(l virlii.illy liow mailers stood, and liariic(l of llio 
 atleinpt wIik li Wlialcly liad ma<le to many his (ousin, 
 //f'/cv/v 7V'/c7/.v. TlnM ia( t |)i(|iR'd Ins inttMCst dct'|)ly and 
 satisliod him that tlic way was < lear lor a suit on his j)art 
 wtMe he so in« lined. I'"air rivalry would ;^uvc only additional 
 /est and he ) romptly yielded to his inelination to heconie 
 ;il least much hettiM- ae(|uainted with the f;iil. At dinner 
 \\v and W'hately vied in their gallantries, but she was loo sad 
 ;uid weary to pay mueh attention to either of them. 
 
 Mrs. \Vhatoly compelled her to lii' down lor a time duriiiL; 
 the heat of the afternoon, but thout;hts ol" the sulferiiif; all 
 iboiit her banished power to rest. She went down and 
 lound the old colonel ly[nj^ with ( losed eyes, feebly trying 
 to keep away the pestering Hies. Kiunembering the bunch 
 ol pea<'ock feathers with which Zany, in old monotonous days, 
 hat! waved when waiting on the table, she obtained it from 
 the dining-room, and sitting down noiselessly by the officer, 
 uive him a respite from his tormentors. In his drowsiness 
 lie did not open his eyes, but [)assed mto (luiet sleep. The 
 f;ul maintainetl her watch, i)ulting her finger to her lii)s and 
 making signals for silence to all who came near. ( )ther 
 Confederate officers observed her wisthilly j Mad Whately, 
 unuing in, looked at her Irowningly. His desire and |»ur- 
 pose towards his cousin had been that of entire self-aj)})r()- 
 priation and now she was becoming the cynosure of many 
 I'Ni's. Among them he saw those of ('aj)tain Maynard, wh.o 
 was already an object of hate. Little recked the enamoured 
 ( ajitain of this fact. To his ardent (wwcy the girl was rapidly 
 hecoming ideal in goodness and beauty. With the ready 
 I'gotism of the young he was incline<l to believe that fate 
 li.id brought about the events which had revealed to him the 
 Woman he should marry. A bombshell bursting among them 
 all would not ha\o created a greater senbution than the 
 
 '^1 
 
 It 
 
 1 ,i 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 
jl 
 
 tin 
 
 « 
 
 It 
 
 y I 
 
 i 
 
 ll 
 
 h 
 
 ll' 
 
 
 :';,S 
 
 •'.i//.v,v I or/' 
 
 kn<)\vkMlj;(' ih.il iIk" ^;irl'' llutii^hl'. wrw (ttll(»\vmj; ,i \';mk«'»'. 
 one wimm Aw lu-rsclt'. h\ diinn^ s(r.'Uaf;(Mn. Ii.id rcliMscd 
 from ( ;ii>(i\itv. 
 
 A iwiiigo ol' pain awakiMicd \\w coloiu'l and he looked np. 
 (lazed and nnfonij)ivluMidini;. Miss I, on lu-nt over him and 
 said gently. " (lo lo sleep again, it's all right." 
 
 "Oh, 1 RMneinl.er now. \t)n are Miss Maron." 
 
 " Ves. l)iit don't try to I. ilk ; jnst sleep now that vo'i 
 * an. 
 
 1 le smiled mkX yielded. 
 
 A few moments later Maynanl ( ame lorward and said. 
 "Miss Haron, yonr arm mnst he tire«l. let me take your 
 plaee." 
 
 Nmv she »*ewarded him hy a sr.iile, " ! will he glad if 
 you ean," she replied soltly. " nt>l that 1 am very tired, hut 
 there are so many others." 
 
 ;Vs she moved away, she saw surgeon Ackley heckoning to 
 her. " Miss Ikron," he said, " I am going to put one ol' my 
 patients espeeially in your and your aunt's charge. Young 
 as he is, he is a hero ami an unnsiial ( haraeter. 1 have had 
 him moved lo a lent, tor he is in a very critical condition. 
 Indeed, his chances tor lite are tew and he knows it. I am 
 acquainted with his family — one of the hesl in ihe South." 
 
 Me led ihe way lo a small tent beneath the shade of a 
 wide-branched oak. A stretcher had been extempori/ed 
 into a cami)-bed and on it lay a youth not older ai)parently 
 than the girl herself. His face had the blood-drained look 
 which many will remember, yet was still line in its strong, 
 boyish lines. The down on his upper lip was scarcely more 
 deeply defined than his straight eyebrows. A negro attend- 
 ant sat near tanning him, and Miss Lou first thought he was 
 asleep. As she ai)proached with the surgeon he opened his 
 eyes with the dazed expression so common when the brain 
 i§ enfeebled from loss of blood. At first they seemed 
 
'•r 
 
 // /'fx'//i I '/'/■: /'() // sov iiii.R^y (;//,'/.. 
 
 2V) 
 
 i; ,1 N'iinl-.'M'. 
 
 ,1(1 rckMscil 
 • looUi'd up, 
 
 w tliMt von 
 
 (1 ;mh1 s;ii(l. 
 c l:ik(* VDUi 
 
 1 \w gl;ul if 
 ■rv tiivd. l)Ul 
 
 K'ckonini; td 
 (Mie of my 
 go. Youni; 
 1 have IkhI 
 condition. 
 s it. I am 
 he South." 
 shade of a 
 xtempori/ed 
 n])parentlv 
 ained look 
 n its strong, 
 arcely more 
 egro attend 
 )nght he was 
 opened his 
 n the brain 
 hey seemed 
 
 .ihnosl opa(|iie and dead in their hlarkr"'s, ImiI, as if a hgli 
 were ap|)roarhing from within, tliey grew bright and laugh 
 ing. His smile showed his white, even teeth sligiitly, and 
 iier look of d"ep connniseration passed into one of worjder 
 as she saw his fa< e growing jjositively radiant wilh what 
 seemed to her a strange kind of hap|)iness, as he glanc ed 
 ha( k and forth from her to the surgeon. I'eebly he raised 
 his fmger to his lips as if to say, " I ( an't speak," 
 
 "That's right, Waldo; don't try to talk yet. This is Miss 
 baron. She will be one of your ntirses and will {{:.vA you 
 with the best of soup. We'll bring yon round yet." 
 
 He shook his head and smiled more genially, tiien tried 
 to extend his hand to the girl, looking his welcome and ac- 
 ( e|)tance of her ministry. So joyous was his expression that 
 she could not help smiling in return, but it was the (piestion- 
 iiig. doubtful smile of one who did not understand, 
 
 " When she comes," resumetl Ackley, " take what she 
 gives you, but don't talk until I give permission, i'hat will 
 do now. You must lake every thing excej)t (|uiet in small 
 (|iiautities at first." 
 
 His lips formed the words "All right," and smilingly he 
 \val( hed them depart. 
 
 " 1 supj)()se he is not exactly in his right mind," said Miss 
 I, on as she and the surgeon returned to the house. 
 
 " Many would think so, T reckon," replied Ackley laconi- 
 < ally, " He believes in a heaven and tha' he's going there. 
 That's the only (]ueer thing I ever discovered in Waldo. 
 He's worth a lot of trouble, Miss liaron." 
 
 " It would be right strange if I did not do my best for 
 liim, sir." 
 
 " I thought you'd feel so. I want very strong beef soup 
 made for a few such special cases, who can take but little 
 at a time. I would like him to have a few teaspocjnfuls 
 every two hours. I am going to trust to you and Mrs. 
 
 y^ 
 
 ii: 
 
 :i 
 
 i 
 
 'I 
 
J4' » 
 
 'M//.S-.V /,i.'/'. " 
 
 tin 
 
 HI 
 
 \\ haloly < Inolly l«» K)()l\ allrr liim in lliis icspccl. \Vc can 
 do liltlc more lluui help nature in his case." 
 
 l*oor Ann' Suke was getting veary again, hut she had a 
 lieart which Miss I, on speedily loui lied m behalf" ot" her 
 patient, and a special ^.aucepan was soon bubbling over the 
 lire. 
 
 The soup lor the evening meal being ready, she began 
 again her task o\' feeding the helpless soldiers, visiting, 
 among oth.ers, Phillips, who lay in a hail-stupor on the great 
 barn lloor. As she stei)ped in among the J'ederal wounded, 
 she was again imi)ressed by the prevailing (juiet and by the 
 tViendly glances turned towards her on every side. The 
 Union surgeon in charge lifted his hat i)olitely, while su( h 
 of the men as were able took off theirs and rejiiained uncov- 
 ered. The homage, .ilthough (|uiet, was so marki'd that she 
 was again embarrassed, and with downcast eyes went direct 
 to Phillips, gently roused him and gave him his supper. 
 While she was doing this the men arourid her were either 
 silent or si)oke in low tones. The thought grew in her mind. 
 " How these Northern soldiers have been misrepresented to 
 me ! I'Aen when I am approaching and before they are aware 
 T am near, I hear no rough talk as I do among our men. 
 The world is so different from uncle's idea of it ! W'hethei 
 these men are right or wrong, I will never listen patienth 
 again when they are spoken of as the scum of the earth." 
 
 As she rose and saw the respectful attilude towards her. 
 she faltered, "I — I — wish to thank you for your — your 
 kindness to me." 
 
 At these words there Was a general smile even on the 
 wannest and most pain-pinched face, for they struck the men 
 as very droll. 
 
 *' We were under the impression that the kindness was 
 chielh' on your side," said Cajitain I lanfield. " Still we arc 
 glad you find us a civil lot of Indians." 
 
cy arc aware 
 
 // TRniUrE TO A SOUTUERiV O'/A'Z. 
 
 241 
 
 ** Please renieinl)er," she answered earnestly, " that was 
 not niy thonght, hut one impressed nj>on ine l)y tliose who 
 (hd not know. Only within a very short time Iiave I ever 
 seen Northern people or soldiers, and tiiey treat me with 
 nothing hut (ourtesy." 
 
 " Perhaps you are to blame for that," said the captain 
 pleasantly. 
 
 •' I can't help feeling glad that our good oj)inion is 
 becoming mutual," she rei)lie(l, smiling. " Won't you please 
 |)ut on your hats and let me come and go as a matter of 
 <ourse? 1 don't like to be sort of /rrmvv/ every time 
 I come. I just want to help those I can helj), to get well." 
 
 "You have only to express your wishes, Miss IJ.'ron," was 
 the hearty reply. 
 
 "Thank you. Is there anything more that 1 can do for 
 you? Is there any one who specially needs " — 
 
 As she was glancing round her eyes fell upon Yarry. His 
 face was so drawn and haggard with pain that, from an im- 
 pulse of pity, she went directly to him and said gently, " I 
 fear, sir, you arc suffering very much." 
 
 " I be — oh, hang — there, there, miss, I'll stand it a little 
 longer. I could stand hcll-firc for your sake. I didn't 
 mean to say that. Guess I better keep still." 
 
 His face, now seen attentively, revealed more to her 
 intuition than his words. She stooped by his side and said 
 l)itcously, "Oh, you are suffering — I feci that you are 
 suffering terribly. I must do something to relieve you." 
 
 " Oh, now, miss," he replied, forcing a ghastly sort f)f 
 
 smile, " I'm all right, I be well, I am. liless your kind 
 
 heart ! Don't worry about me. I'll smoke my i)ipe and 
 go to sleep pretty soon. You look tired yourself, little 
 
 one. I will feel better if you won't worry al)out me, I be 
 
 well, I will. I'm just like the other fellows, you know." 
 
 " I reckon you are a brave, good-hearted man, to think 
 O 
 
 •I 
 
 I i; 
 
 •Jv 
 
 ^B (-^ 
 
 
 #1 
 
 • 
 
ii 
 
 I! 
 
 •■ ! 
 
 242 
 
 •M/AV.V I.OIV 
 
 of others \\\\Q\\ I knoii* yon arc siilTcrinu; so lunrh. I ;nn 
 
 aving vrrv strong soup made lor one of our men. am 
 
 il I'll 
 
 linng you sonio by and hv." and with a hngcring, troubled 
 look into his rugged faee, she tleparted. 
 
 His oycs lollowcd her unlil '-he disai)]>eared. 
 
 " Varrv. you are rewarded. ' ('ai)tain llanl'ield remarked. 
 
 *' mv reward. I'ellers. she's just wearin' herself out 
 
 for lis. 1 <lon't want no reward for anything I can do for 
 her. Well, I'm goin' to shut up now. The «>nly thing I can 
 do for her is to hold my tongui> till it can't wag. I told her 
 I'd smoke mv jMpe and go to sleejv I be — 
 
 I ,idit it lor me. 1 
 
 iMU. 
 
 — well. I will. 
 When she comes, like enouL!;h I'll 
 
 be asleei>. a sort (^\ ii(\h/ sleep, yer know. Just let her 
 think I'm do/.in' after my pipe. Don't let her try to wake 
 me anil worry about me." 
 
 " All shall be as vou wish, ^^lrr^." said C.iptain Ilanlield. 
 " 1 tell you. men. tew women ever receixed sui h a tribute 
 as \arry is paying this Southern girl. I''or one, I'm i)roud 
 of him." 
 
.7 A\i('A<,A'orx/) o/' rao/'/sAf. 
 
 M^ 
 
 CHArTKR XXV r. 
 
 A lucKfwn'xn OK r.coTisM. 
 
 WHEN Miss Lou returned to tho house supper was 
 ready and she sat down weary, saddened and ])re- 
 o( (Upied l)y tlie seenes slic had witnessed. 
 
 " \'ou arc going beyond yc-"-strengtli." said Captain May- 
 nard, who had wat( IkmI her coming back from the l-'ederal 
 wountlyd. " Cannot you i)e content lo condne your niinistra- 
 '. ions to your friends only?" 
 
 " For oirce I can agree with Captain Maynard," Whately 
 added stiffly. " I don't think it's right for you, cousin, to 
 i)e going among those rough, brutal fellows." 
 
 Instantly her anger llamed at the injustice of the remark 
 antl she answered hotly, ** I've found no rough, brutal fel- 
 lows among the \'ankecs."^ 
 
 Ail smiled at her words, and Ackley remarked to one of 
 the Union surgeons, " Dr. IJorden, I thought our men could 
 hold their own jiretty well with the Army in Flanders, but 
 you Yanks, I reckon, surpass all military organizations, past 
 or i)resent. There was one man especially who fairly made 
 the night lurid and left a sulphurous odor after him when he 
 was brought in. It would be rather rough on us all if we 
 were where he consigned us with a vim that was startling. 
 I certainly hope that Miss Baron is not compelled to hear 
 any such language." 
 
 " I appeal to Miss Baron herself," said Dr. Borden, "if 
 she has been offended in this respect to-day?" 
 
 •■ hi 
 
Ii I 
 
 I! 
 
 i*i!l 
 
 iii^ 
 
 
 244 
 
 sU/ss /.or." 
 
 " No indeed, I have not," ici)licd the girl indignantly. 
 ** I never was treated with more courtesy. 1 have not 
 lieard a rough word from tlie Yankees even wlien tliey (Hd 
 not know I was near, and that is more tlian I tan say of our 
 own men. Fight the Yankees all you please, but ilon't do 
 tliem injustice." 
 
 In s[)ite of the girl's flushed, incensed fiice, there was an 
 explosion of laughter. " I'ardon me. Miss IJaron," said 
 Ackley, " but you can't know how droll your idea of injus- 
 tice to the Yankees seems to us. 'i'hat you have such an 
 idea, however, is a cre('"t to you and to them also, for they 
 must have been behaving, themselves prodigiously." 
 
 ' Yes, Dr. Ackley," replied Borden emphatically, " Miss 
 Jiaron's impressions an' a credit to her and to my patients. 
 'I'hey i)romptly recognized her motives and character, and 
 for her sake they pledged themselves that while here, where 
 she is one of the nurses, they would not use language at any 
 time which they would not have their mothers hear. That 
 very man you speak of, who swore so last night, believes 
 himself dying from his effort at self-restraint. This is not 
 true, for he would have died anyhow, but his death is has- 
 tened by his effort. He has been in agony all day. Opiates 
 make him worse, so there is no use of giving them. But I 
 can tell you, no man in your Confederacy ever did a braver 
 thing than he is doing this minute to show his respect for 
 this young lady v/ho has shown kindness to his comrades. 
 I can assure you, Lieutenant Whately, that you need have no 
 fears about your cousin when visiting my patients." 
 
 "What's the name of the soldier of whom you speak?" 
 Miss Lou asked eagerly. 
 
 " He is called Yarry. I don't know any other name yet 
 — been so busy dressing wounds." 
 
 " Thank you," faltered the girl, rising, her face showing 
 signs of strong emotion. 
 
// />.!<■ A(;A'()rx/) (>/• r.coTisM. 
 
 245 
 
 "() Louise ! finish your supper," oxpostuhitccl Mrs. Whnti?- 
 ly. "You must not let these scenes take so strong a hold" 
 — hut she was out of hearing. " I fear it's all going to be 
 too much for her," sighed the lady in conclusion. 
 
 Mr. liaron and his wife exchanged grim glances from the 
 head and foot of the table, as much as to say, " She has 
 shaken off our control and we arc not responsil)le," but 
 Ackley remarked, " I agree with you, r)r. liorden, that it's 
 fine to see a girl show such a si)irit, and I congratulate you 
 tiiat your men are capable of a)j|)reciating it. W^ the way, 
 Mrs. Whately, 1 have put her, with you, in charge of young 
 Waldo and truly hope that among us we < an bring him 
 through." 
 
 " Mrs. Whately," said C.'aptain Maynard, *' I reckon more 
 than one of us begin to regret already that we were not so 
 desperately wounded as to need your attention and thai nf 
 Miss I'aron. We must remember, however, that she is not 
 accustomed to these scenes, and I think we must try to make 
 her forget them at the table. I suppose in the kindness of 
 her heart she is now crying in her room over that Yankee." 
 
 AVhately shot a savage glance at the speaker which jjiainly 
 implied, " It's none of your business where she is." Sud- 
 denly rising, he dei)arted also, his mother's eyes following 
 him anxiously. 
 
 Miss Lou was not crying in her room. As the level rays 
 of the sun shone into the wide old barn, making the straw 
 in a mow doubly golden, and transforming even the dusty 
 cobwebs into fairy lace work, she crossed the threshold and 
 paused for the first time in her impulsive haste to find and 
 thank the dying man of whom she had been told. All eyes 
 turned wonderingly towards her as she stood for a moment 
 in the sunshine, as unconscious of herself, of the marvellous 
 touch of beauty bestowed by the light and her expression, 
 as if she had flown from the skies. 
 
 1] 
 
 ' ''I 
 
m n^ 
 
 
 i 
 
 ! Il 
 
 j 
 
 1 
 
 r . 
 
 ; 1 , 
 
 t !. ' : 
 
 ' 1 
 ■ \ 
 
 
 Mil: ; 
 
 ■ 1, 
 
 
 
 h 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 246 
 
 •'j/Aw zor. " 
 
 " Is there a soklier here named Yarry?" she began, then 
 littered a httle inarticulate cry as she saw Captaiii- Hanlield 
 kneeling beside a man to whom all eyes directed her. " Oh, 
 it's he," she sol)])ed, kneeling beside him also. '" As soon as 
 J heard I felt it was he who told me not to worry about him. 
 Is — is he really dying?" 
 
 *' Yes, I hope so. Miss Baron," replied the captain gravely. 
 " He couldn't live and it's time he had rest." 
 
 'Die girl bent over the man, her hot tears falling on his 
 face. He opened his eyes and looked vacantly at her for a 
 momeiit or two, then smiled in recognition. It was the 
 most pathetic smile she had ever imagined. " Don't worry," 
 he whispered, " I'm just dozin' off." 
 
 *' () my poor, brave hero ! " she said brokenly, " I know, 
 I know it all. Ciod reward you, I can't." 
 
 *• Don't want no reward. 1 be — say, miss, don't wear — 
 yourself — out fer us." 
 
 She took his cold hand and bowed her forehead upon it. 
 sobbing aloud in the overpowering sense of his self-forget- 
 fulness. "O God ! " she cried, " do for this brave, unselfish 
 man what I cannot AVhen, rc/w/i can I forget such a thing 
 as this ! Oh, live, please live ; we will take such good care 
 of you." 
 
 *' There, there, little one, don't — take on — so about — 
 me. Ain't vvuth it. I be — . Say, I feel better — easier. 
 (■ iad — you spoke — good word to God — for me. I be 
 — I mean, I think — He'll hear — sech as you. I'm — off 
 now. 1 )on't — wear — yourself" — 
 
 lOven in her inexperience she saw that he was dying, and 
 when his gasping utterance ceased she had so supported his 
 head that it fell back on her bosom. For a few moments 
 she just cried helplessly, blinded with tears. Then she 
 felt the burden of his head removed and herself lifted 
 gently. 
 
A BACKGROUND OF EGOTISM. 
 
 247 
 
 " I suspected something like this when you left the table, 
 Miss Baron," said Dr. Borden. 
 
 " Oh, oh, oh, I feel as if he had died for me," she sobbed. 
 
 *' He would a died for you, miss," said Tom, drawing his 
 sleeve across his eyes, " so would we all." 
 
 " Mi^s Baron," resumed the doctor gravely, "remember 
 poor Yarry's last words, ' Don't wear yourself — he couldn't 
 finish the sentence, but you know what he meant. You 
 must grant the recjuest of one who tried to do what he could 
 for you. As a physician also I must warn you to rest until 
 morning. You can do more for these men and others by 
 first doing as Yarry wished," and he led her away. 
 
 They had not gone far before they met Uncle Lusthah. 
 The girl stopped and said, " Doctor, won't you let Uncle 
 Lusthah bury him to-morrow down by the run? I'll show 
 him the place." 
 
 "Yes, Miss Baron, we all will do anything you wish if 
 you only rest to-night. I tell you frankly you endanger 
 yourself and your chance to do anything more for the 
 wounded by continuing the strain which these scenes put 
 upon you." 
 
 " I reckon you're right," she said, " I feel as if I could 
 hardly stand." 
 
 '* I know. Take my arm and go at once to your room." 
 
 On the way they encountered Whately. " Cousin ! where 
 on earth have you been? You look ready to faint." 
 
 His presence and all that he implied began to steady her 
 nerves at once, but she made no reply. 
 
 "She has witnessed a painful scene, Lieutenant," began 
 the surgeon. 
 
 " You have no business to permit her to witness such 
 scenes," Whately interrupted sternly. "You should see that 
 she's little more than an inexperienced child and " — 
 
 " Hush, sir," said Miss Lou. " Who has given you the 
 
 K ' !!l 
 
 I 
 
 
 J 
 
 f ;i 
 
r I ' 
 
 11 H! 
 
 I!il * i 
 
 
 ii 
 
 ;;;* 
 
 248 
 
 'M/AVS l.OU.'' 
 
 ri^lii to di' tato to mo or lo ihis gentleman? I'm in no 
 mood lor any more sueli words, cousin. To-da) , at least, 
 no one lias taken advantage of my inexperience, (rood- 
 evening," and slie passed on, leaving him (haling in imi)a- 
 tient anger and protest. 
 
 At the house Mrs. Wliately began expostulations also, but 
 the girl said. " I'lease ilon't talk to me now. Hy and by 
 1 will tell you what will touch all the woman in your heart." 
 
 " 1 earnestly suggest." added Dr. Borden, "that you take 
 Miss Haiun to her room and that nothing more be said to 
 disturb her. She is overwrought and has reached the limit 
 vi'i endurance." 
 
 The lady had the tact to acquiesce at once. After reach- 
 ing her room Miss Lou exclaimed, *' But i have not been 
 to young Waldo." 
 
 " I have," rei)lied her aunt, "and will see him again more 
 than once before 1 nnire. Louise, if you would not become a 
 burden yov.rself at this time you must do as the do(^tor says." 
 
 Within an lutur the girl was sleejiing and her nature 
 regaining the strength and elasticity of youth. 
 
 As Whately stood fuming where his cousin had let't him, 
 Perkins apj)roached for the lirst time since they had parted 
 in anger the night before. 
 
 " 1 reck'n Miss Haron's gone over ter the inemy," 
 remarkeil the overseer. 
 
 " What do you mean?" 
 
 "Look yere. Leftenant. what's the use o' you bein' so 
 gunpowdery with me? What's the use, I say? I mout be 
 o\ some use ter you ef you wu/ civil." 
 
 " Of what use were you last night ? Vou allowed my 
 j-trisoner to be carried ofi" right under your nose." 
 
 " Who carried 'im oft*? Answer that." 
 
 " AMiy, some gawk of a Yank that you were too stupid to 
 tell from me." 
 
 ^>^ V 
 
A lh\C KG ROUND Oh' EGOTISM. 
 
 249 
 
 ill 
 
 
 *' P'raps hit was, p'raps hit wasn't." 
 
 •' Wlio else ( ould it l)e ? " 
 
 " 1 s'picion wlio it was, but I'm not goin' ter talk to one 
 who's got nothin' better to give me 'n uggly words." 
 
 '•Yon don't mean to say " — 
 
 •'I don't mean to say nothin' till 1 know who I'm talkin' 
 ter." 
 
 Whately gave a long, low whistle and then muttered 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 " Oh, sut'ny," remarked Perkins ironically. 
 
 The two men gave each other a long searching look ; 
 then Perkins resumed, "That's right, Leftenant, take yer 
 bearin's. I don't see ez you kin do me any special good, 
 ner harm nuther. I^f yer want no news or help from me, 
 wc kin sheer o(T right yere en now." 
 
 " I say your suspicion is absurd," resumed Whately, as if 
 arguing with himself. " When the alarm, caused by firing, 
 ( ame last night, it happened she was in her room and was 
 badly frightened." 
 
 "What time did the alarm happen?" 
 
 " About two o'clock." 
 
 " Wal, about midnight a figger that favored you 'mazingly, 
 yes, ter yer very walk, came up boldly en sez ter me, nod- 
 ding at the Yank, ' Leave Mm ter me.' The figger wasn't 
 jcs' dressed like you in 'P'ederate uniform, but I kin a'most 
 swear the figger had on them clo's and that hat you're 
 a wcarin' now ; arm in sling, too. What'p mo', when I 
 tht)ught hit over I was cock sure the figger wuz shorter'n 
 you air. I don't believe there's a Yank livin' that could 
 a fooled me last night, 'less he had yer clo's on en yer 
 w;ilk." 
 
 " My uniform and hat hung on the chairs l)eside me, just 
 where they had been put when I went to sleq^." 
 
 "Jes' tell mc ef the do' o* yer room wuz locked." 
 
 % 
 
 m 
 'A 
 
 m 
 
 I 
 
 %\ 
 
 \\ 
 

 ' 
 
 7 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 i 1 
 
 1 
 
 INl! 
 
 n 
 
 I ' 
 
 u 
 
 ' n 
 
 ' 
 
 
 \l>- 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 \ 
 
 ; I 
 
 I 
 
 It 
 
 
 1 1 
 
 I! 
 
 250 
 
 "J//6\:)- Z(9iV 
 
 " I wasn't in a room. I ble])t at the end of the liall." 
 
 " Then enybody could git 'em en put 'em back while you 
 wuz asleep." 
 
 " She couldn't knock you senseless. You're talking wild." 
 
 " I've schemed that out. Thar's tracks in the gyardin 
 not so blinded but they kin give a hint ter a blind hoss. 
 Thar's a track nigh whar I fell mighty like what that infernal 
 nigger Chunk ud make. Beyond, ez ef some uns had 
 hidden in the bushes, right in the gyarden bed, air two little 
 woman-like tracks en two men tracks." 
 
 ^\'hately ground his teeth and mu tiered an oath. 
 
 ** I don't 'spose I kin prove any thing 'elusive," resumed 
 Perkins, " en I don't 'spose it ud be best ef I could. Kf 
 she was up ter such deviltry, of co'se you don't want hit 
 gen'ly known. Bigger ossifers 'n you ud have ter notice it. 
 VA I was in yu shoes howsomever, in huntin' shy game, I 
 could use sech a clar s'picion agin her en be mo' on ni\ 
 gyard inter the bargain." 
 
 " I can >ise it and will," said Whately, sternly. " Perkiiv-;. 
 keep your eyes wide ojien in my behalf. If that Yankee or 
 C'hunk ever come within our reach again — the nigger stole 
 my horse and l)rought the Yank here too in time to prcNcnt 
 the wedding, I believe." 
 
 " Reck'n he did, Leftenant." 
 
 *' Well, he and his master may be within our reacli again. 
 We had better not l)e seen much together. I will reward 
 you well for any real service," and he strode away in stron'( 
 ])erturbation. 
 
 "Hang your reward," mattered Perkins. "You think 
 you're goin' ter use me wiien the boot's on t'other foot. 
 \'ou shall pay me fer doin' my work. I couldn't wish the 
 gal nuthin' worse than te*" marry you. Tiiat ud satisfy my 
 grudge agin hef. but ef I get my v.lnws on that nigger eii 
 dom'neerin' Yank of a master' --his teeth came together 
 
 ii 1 
 
A BACKGROUND OF EGOT/SM. 
 
 251 
 
 >tij( 
 
 mo on m\ 
 
 afttM- tlic grim fasliion of a bulldog, by way of coini)lcling 
 Ills soliloquy. 
 
 'I'hc spring evening deepened from twilight into dusk, the 
 moon rose and shone with mild radiance over the scene that 
 had abounded in gloom, tragedy and adventure the night 
 before. The conflict which then had taken place now 
 c aused the pathetic life-and-death struggles occurring in and 
 about the old mansion. In the onset of battle muscle and 
 the impulse to destroy dominated ; now the heart, with its 
 deep longings, its memories of home and kindred, the soul 
 with its solemn thouj^hts of an unknown phase of life which 
 might be near, came to the fore, rendering the long, doubt- 
 ful struggle complex indeed. 
 
 The stillness was broken only by the steps and voices 
 of attendants and the irrepressible groans of those who 
 watched for the day with hope that waxed and waned as 
 the case might be. Uncle Lusthah yearned over the Federal 
 wounded with a great pity, the impression that they were 
 suffering for him and his people banishmg sleep. He hov- 
 ered among them all night long, bringing water to fevered 
 lips and saying a word of Christian cheer to any who would 
 listen. 
 
 Miss Lou wakened with the dawn and recognized with 
 gladness that her strength and courage for work had been 
 restored. Even more potent than thoughts of Scoville was 
 the impulse to be at work again, especially among those 
 with whom she inevitably .associated him. Dressing hastily, 
 she went first to see the old Confederate colonel. He was 
 evidently failing fast. Ackley and an attendant were watch- 
 
 ing 
 
 him. 
 
 He looked at the girl, smiled and held out his 
 
 hand. She took it and sat down beside him. 
 
 "Ah ! " he said feeljly, " this is a good deal better than 
 dying alone. Would you mind, my child, writing some 
 things I would like to say to my '"imily?" 
 
 / 
 
 
IIIHjj 
 
 \\> 
 
 
 i 
 
 a ^ ( 
 
 
 . , 
 
 ' } 
 
 * . 
 
 
 
 1}i 
 
 ? t 
 
 
 V 
 
 ' i ^ 
 
 
 
 " " 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 ■ ' 
 
 1 ( '. 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 f'H 
 
 I 
 
 
 252 
 
 ".1//.S.V 10 r/. " 
 
 Miss Lou brought her portfolio and tearfully received his 
 dying mes'iges. 
 
 " Poor little girl ! " said the colonel, " you are witnessing 
 scenes very .strange to you. Try to keep your heart tender 
 and womanly, no matter what you see. Such tears as yours 
 reveal the power to help and bless, not weakness. I can 
 say to you all the ^,acred, farewell words which would be 
 hard to speak to others." 
 
 Brokenly, with many pauses from weakness, he dictated 
 his last letter, and she wrote his words as well as she could 
 see to do so. " They will be all t!ie sweeter and more 
 soothing for your tears, my dear," he said. 
 
 He kept up with wonderful composure until he came to 
 his message to " little Hal," his youngest child. Then the 
 old soldier broke down and reached out his arms in vain 
 yet irrepressible longing. " Oh, if I could kiss the little 
 fellow just once before " — he moaned. 
 
 For a few moments he and the girl at his side jiist wept 
 together, and then the old man said almost sternly, " Tell 
 him to honor his mother and his Ciod, to live for the South, 
 for which his father died. Say, if he will do this he shall 
 have my blessing, not without. Now, my child, 1 trust this 
 letter to you. Good- by and God bless you. I wish to be 
 alone a little while and face the last enemy calmly." 
 
 As she knelt down and kissed him tears again rushed to 
 his eyes and he murmured, " That was good and sweet of 
 you, my child. Keep your heart jymple and tender as it is 
 now. Good-by." 
 
 Returning to her room with the portfolio she met her 
 cousin in the upper hall. He fixed his eyes searchingly 
 upon her and with the air of one who knew very much 
 began, " Cousin Lou, my eyes are not so often blinded 
 with tears as yours, yet they see more perhaps than you are 
 aware of. I'm willing to woo you as gallantly as can any 
 
A BACKGROUND OF EGOTISM. 
 
 ' 253 
 
 man, but you've got to keep some faith with me as tiie 
 representative of our house and of the cause which, as a 
 Southern girl, should be first always in its claims." 
 
 Her heart fluttered, for his words suggested both knowl- 
 ?dge and a menace. At the same time the scenes she had 
 passed through, especially the last, lifted her so far above 
 his plane of life that she shrunk from him with something 
 very like contempt. 
 
 "Do you know what I have been writing?" she asked 
 sternly. 
 
 " I neither know nor care. I only wish you to understand 
 that you cannot trifle with me nor wrong me with impunity." 
 
 " Olj ! " she cried, with a strong repellant gesture, " why 
 can't you see and understand ? You fairly make me loathe 
 the egotism which, in scenes like these, can think only of 
 self. As if I had either time or inclination to be trifling with 
 you, whatever you mean by that. Brave nien arc dying 
 heroically and unselfishly, thinking of others, while ' I, me 
 and gallant wooing,' combined with vague threats against 
 one whom you are in honor bound to protect, are the only 
 words on your lips. How can you be so unmanly ? What 
 are you, compared with that noble old colonel whose last 
 words I have just received? If you care a straw for my 
 opinion, why are you so foolish as to compel me to draw 
 comparisons? Do, for manhood's sake, forget yourself foi 
 once." 
 
 He was almost livid from rage as he replied harshly, 
 " You'll rue these words ! " 
 
 She looked at him scornfully as she said, " It's strange, 
 but your words and expression remind me of Perkins. He 
 might make you a good ally." 
 
 In his confusion and anger he blurted out, ** Little won- 
 der you think of him. You and that accursed nigger, 
 Chunk " -— 
 
 H.. 1 
 
}n 
 
 m 
 
 j • 
 
 
 254 
 
 A//SS LOU.'' 
 
 " Hush ! " she interrupted in a low, imperious voice, 
 " hush, lest as representative of our house you disgrace 
 yourself beyond hope." And she passed quickly to her 
 room. 
 
 Within less than an hour he was asking himself in bitter 
 self-upbraiding, "What have I gained? What can I do? 
 ^'refer charges against my own cousin which I cannot prove ? 
 ,! vD^ ble ! Oh, I've been a fool again. I should have 
 kcj't U'a knowledge secret till I could use it for a definite 
 puij ose. ^ H break her spirit yet." 
 
 If he had seen her after she reached her room he might 
 have thought it broken then. Vague dread of the conse- 
 quences of an act which, from his words, she believed he 
 knew far more about than he did, mingled with her anger 
 and feelings of repugnance. " Oh," she moaned, " it was 
 just horrible ; it was coming straight down from the sublime 
 to the contemptible. That noble old colonel took me to 
 the very gate of heaven. Now I'm fairly trembling with 
 passion and fear. Oil, why will Cousin Mad always stir up 
 tlie very worst of my feelings ! I'd rather suffer and die as 
 l)Oor Varry did than marry a man who will think only of his 
 litde self at such a time as this ! " 
 
 !H 
 
A UN • JIXKE y 'S SUVKEME TEH/'. 
 
 
 V HP 
 
 III 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 aun' jinkf.y's suprf.mk tkst. 
 
 '1 
 
 ''T^HE first long tragic day of hospital experience hai^ so 
 X. absorbed Miss Lou as to relcgat' .. '-^ the background 
 events which a short time before 'lud 'en beyond her 
 wildest dreams. In the utter nega u.-. o. her life she had 
 wished that something would ha)jj»e-^, and so much had 
 liappenetl and so swiftly, that sb * was bewildered. The 
 strangest thing of all was the chaii^ , a\ herself. Lovers of 
 the Whately and Maynard type could only repel by their 
 tactics. She was too high-spirited to submit to the one, and 
 too simple and sincere, still too much of a child, to feel any- 
 thing but annoyance at the sentimental gallantry of the 
 other. The genial spirit of comradeship in Scoville, could 
 it have been maintained through months of ordinary life, 
 would probably have prepared the way for deeper feeling on 
 the part of both, but there had been no time for the gradual 
 development of good-will and friendly understanding into 
 something more. They had been caught in an unexpected 
 whirl of events and swept forward into relations utterly 
 unforeseen. He owed his escape from much dreaded cap- 
 tivity and his very life to her, and, as he had said, these 
 tacts, to her generous nature, were even more powerful in 
 their influence than if she herself had received the priceless 
 favors. At the same time, her course towards him, dic- 
 tated at first by mere humanity, then good-will, had made 
 his regard for her seem natural even to her girlish heart. If 
 
 ■M 
 
 t ,. 
 
 . I 
 
 fir 
 
 
 W,\ 
 

 
 iMI! 
 
 !' 1 
 
 tiii!i 
 
 i ' 
 
 '.\ 
 
 Pi 
 
 I! 
 
 1 I 
 
 illiji i 
 
 256 
 
 "Af/SS /.6>r. " 
 
 she luul read it all in a book, years before, she would have 
 said, *' A man couldn't tlo less than love one when fortune 
 had enabled her to do so much for him." So she had simply 
 approved of his declaration, down by the run, of affection 
 for which she was not yet ready, and she approved of him 
 all the more fondly because he did not passionately and 
 arbitrarily demand or expect that she should feel as he did, 
 in return. "I didn't," she had said to herself a score of 
 times, '* and that was enough for him." 
 
 Wihen later, for his sake, she faced the darkness of mid- 
 night, a i)eril she dared not contemplate, and the cruel mis- 
 judgment which would follow her action if discoveretl, 
 something deeper awoke in her nature — something kindled 
 into strong, perplexing life when, in his passionate gratitude, 
 he hatl snatched her in his arms and, as she had said, " given 
 her his whole heart because he couldn't help himself." From 
 that moment, on her part there had been no more merely 
 kind, tran(iuil thoughts about Scoville, but a shy, trembling, 
 blushing self-consciousness even when in solitude his image 
 rose before her. 
 
 As she sought to regain composure after the last interview 
 with her cousin, and to think of her best course in view of 
 what seemed his dangerous knowledge, a truth, kept back 
 thus far by solemn and absorbing scenes, suddenly became 
 dear to her. The spirit of all-consuming selfishness again 
 manifested by Whately, revealed as never before the gulf of 
 abject misery into which she would have fallen as his wife. 
 *' If it hadn't been for Lieutenant Scoville I might now have 
 been his despairing bond slave," she thought ; " I might havt 
 been any way if the Northern officer were any other kind of 
 a man, brutal, coarse, as I had been led to expect, or even 
 indifferent and stupid. I might have been forced into rela- 
 tions from which I could not escape and then have iearned 
 afterwards what noble, unselfish men there are ix\ the world. 
 
 Ml. 
 
l\l 
 
 I 
 
 Aiw y/AA7';)".y sirr/^KArK test. 
 
 ^57 
 
 }0\\V\ have 
 icn fortuiK- 
 had siini)ly 
 af affection 
 ^ed of him 
 anatcly and 
 , as he did, 
 a score of 
 
 CSS of mid- 
 e cruel mis- 
 discovered, 
 hing kindled 
 Lte gratitude, 
 said, "given 
 self." From 
 more merely 
 y, trembling, 
 e his image 
 
 Oh, I lOiild marry Allan Scoxille, I could love him and devote 
 my life to him wholly, knowing; all the time that I needn't 
 l)rotect myself, because he would always be a kinder, truer, 
 better protector. How little I have done for him compared 
 with that from which he has saved me ! " 
 
 There was a knock at the door and Zany ([uickly entered. 
 " I dijs slij) off while ole miss in de sto'-room, ter gib you a 
 warnin'. Miss Lou. Hain't had no charnce till (lis minit. 
 l)at ar ole fox, Perkins, been snoopin' roun' yislidy arter we 
 un's tracks en las' night he tell Mad ^\'halely a heap ob his 
 'jecterin'." 
 
 •' But Zany," said Miss Lou, " you don't think they know 
 any thing." 
 
 " Reck'n hit's all des 'jecterin'," Zany rcplietl. " Kyant 
 be nufin' else. We des got ter face hit out. Doan you fear 
 on me. We uns mus' dis star stupid-like cf dey ax ques- 
 tions," and she whisked off again. 
 
 The girl fejt that the spirit of Zany's counsel would be the 
 best policy to adopt. While she might not " star stupid- 
 like " she could so coldly ignore all reference to Scoville's 
 escape as to embarrass any one who sought to connect her 
 with it. In the clearer consciousness of her feeling towards 
 the Union ofificer her heart grew glad and strong at Hie 
 thought of the service she had rendered him, nor did it 
 shrink at suffering for his sake. A gratitude (juite as strong 
 as his own now possessed her that he had been the means 
 of keeping her from a union dreaded even as an ignorant 
 ( hild, and now known, by the love which made her a woman, 
 to be earthly perdition. 
 
 " Having escaped that," she reflected, *' there's nothing 
 else I greatly fear," and she went down to breakfast resolv- 
 ing that she would be so faithful in her duties as a nurse that 
 no one in authority would listen to her cousin or Perkins if 
 they sought to make known their surmises. 
 
 t t 
 
 A''- 
 
 I m 
 
 vmm 
 
't I 
 
 lii 
 
 I • 
 
 h 
 
 ! I 
 
 ] :r 
 
 'M 
 
 , 
 
 m 
 
 
 |m 
 
 
 ii 
 
 1 
 
 'i 
 
 
 
 
 .58 
 
 'M//.S.V rof. 
 
 Ignorant of her son's artion and its results, Mrs. W'luiloly 
 met her niece kindly and insisted that she should not leave 
 the «Iining-rooni until she had partaken of" tin- bieaktast now 
 aluKjst ready. Captain Maynard joined her with many 
 expressions of a solicitude which the ^irl felt to lie very un- 
 called for, yet in her instinct to j^ropitiate every one in case 
 her action shouM be ([uestioned, she was more friendly to 
 him than at any time hefi^re. Meanwhile, she was asking 
 herself, " What would they do to me if ail was fotmd cjut?" 
 and sustainin^^ herself by the thought, '• Whatever they do 
 to me, they can't reach Lieutenant Scoville." 
 
 It was gall and bitterness to Whately to find her talking 
 affably to Maynard, but before the meal was over she had 
 the address to disarm him in some degree. i'"or his own 
 sake as well as hers and the family's she thought, " I must 
 not irritate him into hasty action. If he should luvl out, 
 and reveal everything, no matter what haj)pene(l to me, he 
 W'ouUl bring everlasting disgrace on himself and relatives. 
 I could at least show that my motives were good, no matter 
 how soldiers, with their harsh laws, might act towards me ; 
 but what motive could excuse him for ])lacing me. a young 
 girl and his cousin, in such a position?" 
 
 Whately had already satisfied himself that no pretence of 
 zeal for the service could conceal his real motive or save 
 him from general scorn should he speak of the mere con 
 jectures of a man like Perkins. He had ne\er meant to 
 sj)eak of them publicly, simply to use his knowledge as a 
 means of intluencing his cousin. He now doubted the 
 wisdom of this. Reacting from one mood to another, as 
 usual, his chief hope now was that some unexpected turn 
 of fortune's wheel would bring his opportunity. The one 
 tiling which all the past unfitted him to accept was jjersonal 
 and final denial. His egotism and impatience at be'wvj. 
 crossed began to manifest itself in another direction, one 
 
»l 
 
 AUX' j/.VA/:y\s .sY7'A7:J//V 77:sr. 
 
 259 
 
 suggested liy Mayiianrs evident sus( cptihiliiy to his cousin's 
 attractions. "Here is a cliance," lie thouglit, "of righting 
 myself in Lou's eyes. If this fellow, thrown into her society 
 by the fortune of war, not by courtesy, presumptuously goes 
 beyond a certain i>oint in his attentions, Cousin Lou will fmd 
 that no knight of olden time would have fougiu for her 
 (luicker than I will. Mother says she is one who nnisl luue 
 her romance. .She may have it with a vengeance. It may 
 open her eyes to the truth that m spirit like mine brooks 
 no oj)p()sition, and when she sees that I am ready to face 
 death for her she will admire, respect, and yield to a nature 
 that is haughty and like that of the old nobility." 
 
 Thus he blinded himself in these vain, silly vaporing.;, llv* 
 result of^ false training and the reading of stilted romances. 
 The thought of studying the girl's character, of doing and 
 being in some degree what would be agreeable to her, never 
 ()('<urred to him. That kind of g<K>d sense rarely does 
 occur to the egotistical, who often fairly exas[)erate those 
 whom they would please by utter blindness to the simple 
 things which arc pleasing. Miss Lou had read more old 
 romances than he, but she speedily outgrew the period in 
 which she was carried away by the fantastic heroes described. 
 They became in her fancy the other extreme of the matter- 
 of-fact conditions in which her uncle and aunt had lived, 
 and as we have seen, she longed to know the actual world, 
 to meet with people who did not seem alien to her young 
 md natural sympathies. I^ach new character she met 
 became a kind of revelation to her. She was the opposite 
 pole of the society belle, whose eyes have wearied of human- 
 ity, who knows litUe and cares less for anything except her 
 mirrored image. With something of the round-eyed turi- 
 osity and interest of a child, she looked at every new fuce, 
 asking herself, "What is he like?" w A whet!)er he will 
 like and admire me, although she had not a little feminine 
 
 rMl 
 
 ~^1 
 
 f m 
 M 
 
Ill 
 
 IjiM 
 
 
 \\\ 
 
 260 
 
 ".if/ss /.or. •• 
 
 pleasure in discovering that strangers werL' inclined to do this. 
 Her (lisapj)roval of Maynard arose chiefly from the feeling 
 that his gallantry at such a time, with the dead and dying 
 .ill about them, was *' more shocking than a game of cards 
 on Sunday." She regarded his attentions, glances, tones, 
 as men' well-bred /f7-.\7//</i,r. indulged in for his own amuse- 
 nienl. r.;id --he put him down a>> a trifler for his pains. 'I'hat 
 he, as she would phrase it, "was just smitten without any 
 'hyme or reason" seemed |)reposterous. She had done 
 uothinL; for him as she had for Scoville, 'i'he friendly or 
 the frankly admiring looks of strangers, the hearty gratitude 
 and good-will of the wounded, she ("ould accej)t with as 
 nuich jileasure as any (>f her sex ; but she had not yet rec- 
 ognized that type of man who looks at a pretty woman and 
 is disposed to make love to her at once. " Why does Cap- 
 tain Maynard stare a» me so?" she asked herself, "when I 
 tlon't care a thistle for him and never will. Why should 
 1 care? NVhy should l;e care? Does he think I'm silly 
 and shallow enough to be amused by this kind of thing when 
 that brave old ci>lonel is dying across the hall?" 
 
 It was a relief t ) her to esca])e from him and Whately 
 and to visit even poor ^^'aldo, tlying also, as she believe<l. 
 " Pr. .\( kley," she said, "you may trust me to give him his 
 ft)od now every two hours. I won't break down again." 
 
 " Vou did not break down, Miss Ikiron. All my nur?>e.- 
 have their hours off. W'^iy shouldn't you? I reckon," he 
 added, smiling, '* you'll have to obey my ordeis like the 
 rest. I will go with you again on this visit." 
 
 To her the yoiith seemed ghastlier than ever, but tin 
 expression of gladness in his eyes was unchanged. 
 
 " Miss Raron feels very remorseful that she has not been 
 to see you before," said r)r. Ackley, ** l)ut her labors yester 
 day were so many and varied that she had to rest. She 
 >vill do Itetter by you to-day." 
 
ALW J!NKEY\S SUTKEME I' EST. 
 
 261 
 
 Waldo could only reach his hand /cebly towards her in 
 welcome. She took the brown, shapely hand in both of 
 iicrs and it made her sad to feel how cold and limp it was. 
 " Hilt a few hours ago," she thought, '* it was striking blows 
 with a heavy sabre." — "I have brought you some strong, 
 lu)t soup," she said gently, '* and shall bring it every two 
 iiours. You'll be very good and take it from me, won't 
 you?" 
 
 He laughed as he nodded assent. 
 
 ** When can I J)egin to read to him, doctor, to helj) him 
 pass the lime?" 
 
 " I'erhaps to-morrow if he does well, but never more than 
 A few minutes together until I permit. Slow and sure, 
 W alclo, slow and sure are my orders, and you are too good 
 a soldier to disobey." 
 
 He shook his head mischievously and whispered " Insub- 
 ordinate." 
 
 The doctor nodded portentously and said, " If you an<l 
 Miss Baron don't obey orders I'll put you both under 
 .irrest." 
 
 This seemed to amuse the young fellow immensely and he 
 was about to speak again, but the surgeon put liis linger to 
 his lips and departed. 
 
 As she was feeding him with eyes full of gentle commis- 
 eration his lips framed the words, '' You can talk to me." 
 
 She scarcely knew how to do this. There n'ere ipiestions 
 >h(' was eager to ask, for his strange, exuberant hapjjiness 
 under t!ie circumstances were hard to understand, even 
 ai'tiT Dr. Ackley's explanation. She had never seen reli- 
 gion jiroduce any such results. Tncle Lusthaii seemed to 
 lur very sincere and greatly sustained \\\ his faith, but he 
 iuid always been to her a sorrowful, jjlaintive figure, mourn 
 lug for lost kindred whom slavery had scattered. Like 
 tiu' ancient prophets also, his heart was ever burdened by the 
 
 
I; 
 
 I 
 
 2f)2 
 
 .J//.S.V /.()/ 
 
 .1 '! 
 
 !! I 
 
 it'i 
 
 SO! 
 
 wayw.inlncss of the peopli' whom he i-xhortotl ami warned. 
 In y(ning Waldo appeared a joyonsness which nothing 
 ( ould nuench. h'roni the nionient she obtained a < lew to 
 his nnexpected behavior, everything' in his manner accorded 
 with the surgeon's exjilanation. In his boyish lace ami 
 expression there was not a trace of" the lanati( al or abnor 
 mal. lie seemed to think of Ileasen as he did of his own 
 home, and the thought ot' going to the one inspired much 
 the sauje I'eeling as returning to the other. 
 
 "Well." said Miss 1,()U, after a little hesitancy, "it is a 
 pleasure to w.iit on one who is so brave and < liecrful. It 
 makes me teel ashamed i>f worrving over my troubles." 
 
 He motioned her to gi't soujething under his pillow and 
 she drew out a small I'estament. With the ease of perfect 
 tamili.irity he turnetl the leaves and jjointed to the words, 
 "t\>me unt») me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and 
 
 lie looked up at her, smiled brightly. 
 
 1 
 
 w 
 
 gi\e vou rest 
 
 .'ud >hook his head wlien he saw tears in her eyes. .Again 
 I'.e turned the leaves .md pointed to other words, " Beloved, 
 think it iu)t strange concerning tlu' tu'iy trial which is to 
 tr\ \oM. as though s>)me strange thing happened unto )ou : 
 but ri'joi( e, inasmuch as ye are p.artakers of Christ's sul" 
 lerings ; that, wlun his glory shall be revealed, yi* may be 
 glad also with exceeding joy." His expression was wonder 
 fully signifiiant in its C(>ntent, lor it was that oi' one who 
 h.»d explained and act omited for e\eryt;iing. 
 
 "Oh." she (altered, " I wish 1 felt as you do. believed as 
 you i\o. I hope vou will get strong soon. I would like to 
 tell you some things which ti()ul)le me verv miu h and there 
 is n«) one I c.\n tell." 
 
 n 
 
 v and ii\ 
 
 1 b 
 
 lie w 
 
 his| 
 
 )ere(! 
 
 I )on't worrv. All right, 
 
 " Oh, what does this mean? " she thought as she returneti 
 to the house. " .Awfully wounded, suffering, dying perhaps, 
 yet 'glad with an exceeding joy' I I'ncle and aunt haven"' 
 
/ ( 'M ' JIXKi: V\S .S7 -/'h' /:.]//: //..V /! 
 
 263 
 
 111(1 wiiincd. 
 i( h nolliin^' 
 1 .1 ( U'W to 
 or accorded 
 h face and 
 il or abiior- 
 ot' his own 
 pircd much 
 
 lu'Hovod as 
 ()ul<l like to 
 h and tluTc 
 
 .my idea ol su( h a r; iij^ion. and lor .some reason I )r. W'll- 
 lianis never i^ave me any sue h idea ot" it at < hnrc h. Why 
 didn't he? Was it my fatilt ? What \\v said seemed just 
 words that made little or no iili])ression. Sine <• he tried to 
 marry me to ('ousin Mad I leel as il I < oiild scarcely hear 
 the siL,'ht ot him." 
 
 Net he was the first one to greet her on the veranda. He 
 spoki' with lojmal kindness, hut she responded merely by a 
 t^'rave salutation, a!i<l pa.ssi'd on, lor slu* fell that he should 
 have miderstuod .m<l protected her in the most terrible 
 emeri^ency of her young life. 
 
 Having looked after the safety of his family, he had 
 returned with the best and sineerest intentions to minister 
 
 lo ilu' wounded 
 
 If th 
 
 le goocl hi- would do eorresi)on( 
 
 led 
 
 with these intentions he would have b'.-en weh omed in most 
 instances ; but he |)ossessed that unforlmi.ite temperament 
 whi( h is only one remose for tiie better Irom a cold indilfer- 
 tiK I' to his sacred duties. He did not |»ossess a |)ar*icle of 
 liiat mysterious, yet in his c;alling priceless gift, termecl mag- 
 netism lor the lack of a better del'inition. .Ml respected 
 ium, lew warmed towards him or thought of oj)ening to 
 him their hearts. His mind was literal, and within it the 
 ilo( hini's were liki' labelled and separate l>ac•kage^, from 
 wliic h he took from time to time what he wantecl as he 
 woiiltj supplies from a store-room. ( lod was to him a Sov- 
 ereign and a |iidge who would .'.a\e a lew of the human 
 r.K (• in e\a( t accorclanci' with the (iced of the Church in 
 uhich the good man had In-en trained. W iiat would hap- 
 pen to those without its |iale wa^ one of those solemti mys- 
 teries with which he h.id nauglil to do. ( 'onsc ientious m 
 
 us idea ot dutv to the l.i^t degree, he nevt: 
 
 •rthel 
 
 ess n 
 
 light 
 
 ta^ly irritate and lep^-l m in\- mincls bv a rigid [»resentation 
 of the only formula of fiith which he deemed safe and 
 .idecjuate. 1 1 seciiiod his cdiief aim lo have every form an«l 
 

 ![ 
 
 ' 
 
 '{\ 
 
 ' 1 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 
 1 ; 
 
 ( 
 
 i ;l 
 
 I if 
 
 ill 
 
 :| 
 
 .1 
 
 liil 
 
 r 
 
 264 
 
 "Af/SS LOU. " 
 
 ceremony of his Church comnhed with, and then his 
 responsibility ceased. He and Mr. liaron had taken sohd 
 comfort in each other, lK)th agreeing on every point of doc- 
 trine and poHtics. lioth men honestly felt that if the world 
 could be brought to accept their view of life and duty little 
 would be left to l;e desiretl. When summoned to perform 
 the marriage ceremony Dr. Williams no more comprehended 
 the desperate opposition of Miss Lou to the will of her 
 guardian, the shrinking, instinctive i)rotest of her woman's 
 nature, than he did the hostility of so many in the world to 
 the tenets of his faith. Mis inability to tinderstand tue 
 feelings, the mental attitude of others who did not uniiues- 
 tioningly accept his views and ajjprove liie action of the 
 ** powers that be" was perhai)s the (hief o!v w-l'j to his use- 
 fulness. He was not in the least degree i)ifj;erant or vin- 
 dictive towards those who opinxsed hiin ; Ii's i'eeling rather 
 was. "This is your opportunity. ^ /•;• * Hy afford it and 
 there my resj)onsibility ceases ' — a conr fable sort of be- 
 lief to many, but one that would .'u: ijati:-;.'") a warm, earnest 
 nature like Pp'^l's, who said, " To the v.eak I became as 
 weak, that I \\\\f)i\X gain the weak : I am made a'l things to 
 all nien, th-'t I might 1 v '1 means save scaie." I'aul would 
 have found some way to reach the ear and he irt of nearly 
 every wounded man in the extemporized hosj)i(.;il, but for the 
 reasons suggesteil the visits of j)oor Dr. Williams soon began 
 to be very generally dreaded. Old Uncle Lusthah had far 
 better success with those who would listen to him. 
 
 Miss Lou soon found her way to the i'ederal wounded 
 again. While agreeably to her wishes there was no formality 
 in her reception, it was evident that the jxjor fellows had 
 now learned to regard her with deep affection. 
 
 "I hine ti)ld them all," said Dr. Horden who received 
 her, ** that you did as Varry wisiied, that you took a good 
 resi and were looking this morning as you should, and it 
 
I'llows had 
 
 AUN' JINKKY\S SirpREMI-: TEST. 
 
 265 
 
 has pleased them greatly. Phillips died last night, and has 
 l)een removed. He hadn't any chance and did not suffer 
 much. Remembering your wishes, we kept Yarry here. 
 He lies there as if he were dozing after his i>ipe, as he 
 wished you to think." 
 
 The girl stepped to the side of the dead soldier and for a 
 moment or two looked silently into the still, peaceful fiice. 
 (^)uietly and reverently the surgeon and others took off their 
 hats and waited till she should speak. *• Oh," she breathed 
 softly at last, " how thoughtful and consideriite you have 
 been ! You have made this brave, unselfish man look just 
 as if he were (juictly sleeping in his uniform. T'lv^re is 
 nothing terrible or painful in his aspect as he lies th^ re on 
 his side. Poor generous- hearted fellow ! 1 believe he is at 
 rest, as now he seems to be. I want you all to know," s.ie 
 added, looking round, "that he shall be buried where I 
 can often visit his grave ai'ld keep it from neglect, for I can 
 never forget the kindness that he — that you all h;v'; shown 
 me. Dr. Jiorden, I will now show I'ucle Liisthah the blace 
 where I wish the grave to be, and wlicn all is rertdv I wiH 
 (ome and follow j)oor Yarry to it. Do yoi- think there 
 ought to be a minister? There is one heie r.;*.'' — Dr. 
 Williams, who has a church near the ' 'ourt Hoiise." 
 
 "Just as you wish. Miss ]]aro» For (;ne, I think a 
 prayer from Uncle Luslhah, as you . all him, would do just 
 as well and be more in acconhuK .vith Yarry's teelings if 
 he could exi)ress them. 'I'hc old lu gro has been in and out 
 nearly all night, waiting on th men, and has won their 
 good-will. He 'certainly is a good old soul." 
 
 "I agree with the doctor," addi-d Caj-tain Hanlield. 
 " Were it my case I'd ask nothing better than a i)ray<;r from 
 I'ncle Lusthah over my grave, for he has acted like a good, 
 patient old saint among us." 
 
 A murmur of aj)i)roval frou\ the iMliers followed these 
 
 I 
 
 >|j 
 
f .■ ! 
 
 266 
 
 .1//.S-.V AO/"/." 
 
 mm 
 
 p.! 
 
 words, and so it was arranged. I'ikIc Liistluh was soon 
 found, and he followed the girl to the shadow of a gre;fl 
 pine by the run and adjacent to the grassy plot witli \vhi( h 
 the girl would ever associate Allan Scoville. It was there 
 that she had looked into his eyes and discovered what lier 
 own heart was now tea( hing her to luiderstand. 
 
 Aun' Jinkey followed them from her cabin and a>ked. 
 "Wat you gwine ter do yere, honey?" 
 
 " Bury here a Northern soldier who has done me a very 
 great honor." 
 
 '* () Miss Lou, I des feared ter hab 'im so neah dv 
 cabin." 
 
 " Mush ! " said the girl, almost sternly. " l^ncle Lusthah. 
 you ought to teach manmiy better than that." 
 
 "Ah, youn' rnistis, hit's bred in de bone. I des mourns 
 ober my peoj)le. 'fusin' ter be comf'ted. V'ere Ann' Jinkey, 
 gittin' gray lak me. She a 'fessor ol) religion, yet de word 
 'spook' set her all a tremble. VA dey is spooks, Aun' 
 Jinkev, w'at dal ter you? here's ttinder en lightnin' en 
 yearthcjunkes en wurin' ili'nen's en all kin' ')!) miseries ob 
 de bod/. Who gwine u> keep all dem fum yo' cabin? 
 R'N k'n you bettah trus' <le I,a\vd 'bout spooks too." 
 
 "You don't believe m any such foolishness. Uncle 
 I.usthah?" 
 
 *' V\'ell, young luistis, I gettin' po'ful ole en I al'ays yeared 
 on spooks sence I kin reckermember. I neb'-r seed one 
 fer she, but I'se had strange 'sper'ences o' nights, en dar's 
 dem w'at sez dey has seen de sperets ob de 'parted. I 
 dunno. Dere's stunp'n in folk's buzzums dut takes on (piar 
 sometimes, ez ef we libin' niighty (lose outer a worl' wr 
 kyant mos' alay*. see. Dat ar doan trouble me nohow, en 
 Aun' jmkey orter know bctt.ih. ICf de Lawd 'mils spooks, 
 dat He business. He 'mlts hns ob tings we kyant see troo. 
 Look at dese yere old han's, young mistis. Dey's wuked 
 
AU.V J/A^f-.r'S SfPAKAf/'l TEST. 
 
 J67 
 
 and a^kcd. 
 
 c int' a very 
 
 so m-ali (K' 
 
 clc Liisthah, 
 
 nigh (»ii eighty yeah, yit (ley neber wukcd fer mysef. dey 
 nebcr wukcd fer wife en ciiirn. Dat nio' (|uar clan spooks." 
 
 " I don't know i)Ut you are riglit," said tlie girl thought 
 fully. " I didn't know you felt so about being free. .\un' 
 jinkey never seemed to trouble much about it." 
 
 '• Tse 'feared .Vun' Jinkey tink a heap t>n de leeks en 
 inions ob Mgypt." 
 
 " Dar now, Uncle Lusthah, you po'ful good ujan, but you 
 owns up you (loan know nufin' 'bout spooks, en I knows 
 vou (loan know nufm' 'bout freedom." 
 
 "Yes I does," replied I 'ncle Lusthah. " l\f de day come 
 w'en I kin Sian' up en say fer sho, * I own mysef, en (iod 
 ony my Mars'r,' I kin starbe ef dat He will. I')n dat 
 'minds me, young niistis, Is we frc- ? Perkins growlin' 
 rotm' agin dis mawnin', en say we he'p 'bout de horspital 
 ler-day, but we all go ter *.vuk ter-morrer. I 'lowed he 
 orter talk ter us 'bout wages en he des larf en < uss me. 
 W'at's gwinc ter be de end? Afarse Scoville en de big 
 Linkum gin'ral say we free, en J'erkins larf 'tem[)tuous like. 
 We des all a Icjokin' ter you, young mistis." 
 
 "(> uncle ! what c;an I do?" 
 
 "Shame on you, Uncle l.usthaii. for i)ilin' up sech a luMp 
 c>b 'plexity on my honey," cried Auu' Jinke)', who was as 
 practical as she was sui)erstitious. •• I kin tell you w'at trr 
 d). I (loan projeck en smoke in my < hiuibly » orucr fer 
 not'n. W'at kin vou do l>ul do c/. vou toK- iwcl Mai>.e 
 Scoville en de I, mkum gin'ral (nmc agin? S'[io,e you say 
 vou woan wuk en woan 'bev, how vou hole out agin Perkins 
 en Mad \Vhately? 1 )ey'd tar you all ter pieces. Dey^.iy 
 dis wall fer freedom. Whar yo' patience tw.'l dc wah'll end .•' 
 he Yanks umis' do mo' dan say we free; dey mus' kc«'|) 
 us free. Dar Ann' Suke. Sh<' say shi' free one minit iii 
 a slabe nex' minute twcl her haid mos' whirl off her shol'crs. 
 Now she say, ' I doan know 'bout dis uccdom bu.unes:. ; I 
 
 II 
 
 1 m"^ 
 
 .y 
 
 ft 
 
 I 
 
i:i 
 
 )i 
 
 Hi 
 
 m 
 
 Mn 
 
 268 
 
 •M//.S-.V ZOr. " 
 
 does know how ter cook en Tse gwinter cook iwel dey 
 gets troo a whirlin' back en forth.' Vou says I mus' trus' de 
 I,aw(l 'bout spooks, Tntlc Lusthah. Wy kyant you trus' 
 de I>awd 'bout tVecdoiii?" 
 
 'I'lie old man shook his licad sorrowfully, for Aun' Sukc 
 and Ann' jinkcy's philosojjhy didn't satisfy hiui. " I'se 
 willin' ter do my shar,' he said musingly, " de Lawd knows 
 I be. VA' I cud die lak po' Marse Yarry en de oders fcr 
 freedom I'se willin' ter die." 
 
 " Now, Uncle Lusthah, your strong feeling and not your 
 good sense speaks," said Miss Lou, who had been thinking 
 earnestly, meanwhile recalling Scoville's prediction that the 
 negroes might come to her for help and counsel. ** Aun' 
 Jinkey is certainly right in this case, and you must tell all 
 our people from me that their only safe course now is to 
 obey all orders and bide their time. Perkins' authoiity 
 would be sustained by all the soldiers on tiie pUu e and any- 
 thing like disobedience would be punished severely. If 
 what Lieutenant Scoville and the Northern general said is 
 true you will soon be free without useless risks on your j)art. 
 If that time comes I want you md mammy to stay with me. 
 Vou shall be as free as I am and I'll give you wages." 
 
 ** Dar now, young mistis, ef I know I free 1 bress de 
 Lawd fer de ( harn( e ter gib my wuk ter you. Here's a 
 l)o'ful dif'uncj 'twix' bein' took en kep en des gibin' yosef out 
 ob yo' own heart. Slav'y couldn't keeji me fum gibin' mysef 
 ter de Lawd en I been He free man many a long yeah, en I 
 be yo' free man, too, fer lub." 
 
 " Look yere, now, honey," added Aun' Jinkey, wiping Ikt 
 eyes with her ai)ron, " you kin bury sogers all 'bout de <abin 
 cf you wanter. Uncle Lusthah kyant do mo' fcr you, honey, 
 ner me, tookin resks ob spooks. Des bury dem sogers, ef 
 you wantrr. right un'er my win'er." 
 
TRUTH IF THE IlEAVliXS FALL. 
 
 269 
 
 CHAl'TKR XWIII. 
 
 TRUTH IF IHK IIKAVKNS lAI.I,. 
 
 IT was (|uitc natural that the thoughts of IVrkius and Mr, 
 Haron should turn towards the growing ( rops, neglected 
 hy reason of events uni)re(:edented in their experience. The 
 announcement to the slaves, first 1)V Scoville aiid later con- 
 finned by (ieneral Marston, of freedom, had staggered both 
 employer and overseer, but every hour since the departure 
 of the raiding Union column had been reassuring. 
 
 It is not within the province of this story to follow the 
 fortimes of that force, since it is our modest purpose merely 
 to dwell on those events closely related to the experient es 
 of the Southern girl who has won our attention. She had 
 suddenly become secondary in her uncle's thoughts, A 
 phase of the war, like a sudden destructive storm, had been 
 witnessed; like a storm, he ho|)ed that it and its effects 
 would pass away. The South was far from being subdued ; 
 tlu' issue of the conflict unknown. He was the last man in 
 the Confederacy to foresee and ac( ept new conditions, esjjc- 
 < ially when he still believed the Southern cause would 
 triuiupJK 
 
 .•\s the confusion 0^ Ills mind, after the battle. j)ass('d he 
 began to look around and consider what should be done, 
 what (ould be saved out of what at first ;ii»i)eared a wreck. 
 U'hen 1 >r. Ackley assured him that the house and j)lantation 
 would be raj)idly abandonetl as a hosi)ital, hope and courage 
 revived, while to these was added the spin of necessity. 
 
 «l 
 
^ili 
 
 ! .< 
 
 ii 
 
 270 
 
 •M//.S.V r.or^.'' 
 
 He knew that ho must " tnakc liis rrops," or his r()rtiinef» 
 would 1)0 (losjiorato. Koinomhoring tho vaUio of tiinoly 
 lalfor ill the spriiij^ season, he was eaj^er on tliis second day 
 alter the hnltle to jiiit liis sl^ivos to work again at their inter- 
 rupted avocations. Accordingly he held a consultation with 
 his ne[)hcw and Dr. ;\ckley. 
 
 " 'Tlu' hands are hoconiing demoralized," he said, "by 
 unaccustoniecl dutios .md partial idleness. Some are sullen 
 and others distracted by all kinds of absurd e\|)e«tati()ns. 
 Uncle i.usthah, the leader and |)reacher among them, e\ on 
 had the impudence to ask i'erkins alK>ut wages. The 
 ^'ankoo olti< ers, when here, told them they were free, and 
 tliey wish to act as if they were. The sooner that notion 
 is taken out of their heads the better. This vaw be done 
 )iow while my nephew is here to ont\)rce authority, bettor 
 than when wo are alone again. It seems to me that a cer- 
 tain number could be detailed kn regular hospital duty and 
 tne rest put tt) work as usual." 
 
 " 1 agree with you, certainly," ro|)lied Surgeon .\ckley. 
 *'(li\e me a dozerj men and half a do/en women to wash 
 and cook, and I <an get along. Lieutenant W'hatoly, you. 
 at your uncle's suggestion, can make the detail and entbrce 
 discipline among the rest." 
 
 *' I was going to speak to you about this very matter, 
 nncle," said Whately. ** My overseer has been over and 
 1 lind the bku k imps on our place are in much the same 
 condition as yours, a few venturing to talk about wages or 
 shar<'s in the ( rop and all that nonsense. I sent him back 
 with half a do/on men, armed to the teeth, and told him to 
 ])ut the hands at work as usual. Mother is going to rido 
 over and spend part of the day. I don't wish her to bi' 
 there alone just yet, and I shall galloj) over in time to be on 
 hand when s!ie arrives. 'I'hing arc getting settled, my arm 
 I ; not so painful and it is time we pulled ourselves and every- 
 
TKUril //' THE HEM liXS I A 1. 1.. 
 
 271 
 
 thing together. \\n\ slriu k the right Dote when you said, 
 ' Now is the time to enlorce autliority.' It !inist he done 
 sharply too, and tliese people taught the dilference between 
 tlie banks' incenchary talk and our rights and positive com- 
 mands. From what IVrkins says, this— old Uncle Lusthah 
 is a fire-brand among your people. (»ive your overseer his 
 orders and I'll see that he carries them out." 
 
 IVrkins was summoned, acquainted willi the policy — 
 just to his mind — resolved upon, told to pick out the detail 
 lor hosj)ital duty and to have the rest ready for work after 
 an early dinner. 
 
 "do right straight ahead, I'erkins," added Whalely, " and 
 K'l me know if one of these Yankee-made freemen so niuch 
 as growls." 
 
 Dr. {{orden was not the kind of man to take upon 
 himself undue resj)onsil)ility. He had therefore men- 
 ti(»ned to Surgeon Ackley Miss Maron's wish to givt; \'arry 
 a spe< lal burial l)y the run and that she expected to be 
 present. 
 
 Ackley good-naturedly acrjuicsred, saying, " I sui)pose 
 there (an be no objectioti to burying tlie man in a i)lace of 
 Miss ikiron's selection instead of tlie one designated by 
 Mr. IJaron. It's but a small concession to her nho is so 
 kindly bent on making herself useful. I-ct her have iier 
 own way in the whole affair." 
 
 The spirit of V'arry's turbulent career seemed destini-d to 
 break out afresh over his final disposition. I'ncle j.uslhah 
 went to the (juarters in order to obtain the aid of two or 
 three stout hands in digging the grave. It so hai>iieiuil 
 that his visit took place during the a(loi)tion of Mr. Haron's 
 policy in dealing with liis property and just beft)re I'erkins 
 received his instructions. The negroes not engaged in labor 
 relating to the hospital gathered around I'ncle I.uslhah m 
 the hope of receiving some advice from Miss Lou. .Mourn- 
 
 *ll 
 
 Ml 
 
 lii 
 
 V 11 
 
 i) 
 
 , li 
 
 .iifj 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 / 
 
 O 
 
 
 h^. 
 
 
 Qr 
 
 7i 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 '- IIIM 
 
 ■ 50 '""^^ 
 
 It: 1^ 
 
 IIIIIM 
 
 IM 
 1.8 
 
 
 1-25 1.4 1.6 
 
 
 ^ 6" 
 
 ► 
 
 ^m' 
 
 & 
 
 /a 
 
 m 
 
 0% '^v 
 
 
 '/ 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sdences 
 Corporation 
 
 '^ 
 
 \ 
 
 S 
 
 V 
 
 \\ 
 
 '"^. 
 
 ^9) 
 
 V 
 
 
 6^ 
 
 <^ 
 
 <^ 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. 14580 
 
 (716)875-4503 
 
,<i^ 
 
 '<^. 
 
 t<? 
 
 Q, 
 
272 
 
 "A/iss Lour' 
 
 iiii 
 
 ill • 
 
 li!;! 
 
 I 
 
 Y w 
 
 i ' 
 
 Jt 
 
 fully the old man lold ihem what she and Aun' Jinkc)' hatl 
 said, adding, " I doan see no oder way fer us des at dis 
 time ob our tribcrlation. Ole Pharo sut'ny got he grip on 
 us agin, he sut'ny hab fer a spell. But brudrcn en sistas, 
 hit ony lak a cloud comin' 'cross de risin' sun. Let us des 
 wait pashently de times en seasons ob de Lawd who alone 
 1 in brung de true 'liverance." 
 
 ^Vhen he saw the deep, angry spirit of protest he threw 
 up his hands, crying, "Wat de use? I warn you; I 'treat 
 you, be keerful, Wa. could us do wid our bar ban's agin 
 armed men ? I tells you we inns' wait or die lak Mores 
 'fo' we enter de promis Ian'." Then he told them about 
 Yarry o'xl asked for two or three to volunteer to dig the 
 grave. 
 
 A score stepped forward and nearly all expressed their 
 purpose to attend the funeral. The old man persuaded aP 
 but three to remain near the quarters at present, saying, 
 " So many gwine wid me mout mek trouble, fer Perkins 
 look ugly dis mawnin'." 
 
 " We ugly too," muttered more than one voice, but they 
 yielded to Uncle Lusthah'i- caution. 
 
 In going to the run Uncle Lusthah and his assistants had 
 to pass somewhat near the house, and so were intercepted 
 by Perkins and Whately, both eager to employ at once the 
 tactics resolved upon. 
 
 " Where the devil are you goin' with those men and 
 shovels?" shouted Perkins. 
 
 " We gwine ter dig a grabe fer a Linkum soger down by 
 de run," replied Uncle Lusthah quietly. 
 
 " That ain't the place ter plant the Yanks, you old fool. 
 Go back to the quarters. No words, Leftenant Whately 
 will detail the hands fer sech work. Back with you. Why 
 in don't you mind ? " 
 
 " I hab my orders fum " — 
 
~^ ■]fFrt,"'-ir"|fc'f.fittiiii'ir;:--'^'''ifP urT'^- 
 
 TRUTH IF THE IIEAVEXS TALL. 
 
 273 
 
 \ \\ 
 
 I 
 
 "Silence!" thundered Whately. "Obey, or you'll go 
 back at the point of the sal)re." 
 
 Uncle Liisthah and his companions still hesitated, for 
 they saw Miss Lou running towards them. She had lin- 
 gered to talk with Aun' Jinkey and was returning when she 
 heard Perkins' high, harsh words. The overseer was in a 
 rage, and limped hastily forward with uplifted cane, when 
 he was suddenly confronted by the hot face and flashing 
 eves of Miss Lou. 
 
 '• Don't you dare strike Uncle Lusthah," she said sternly. 
 
 Her ap|)carance and altitude evoked all the pent-up hate 
 ,:n(l passion in the man's nature and he shouted, " By the 
 'tarnal, I will strike 'im. I've got my orders en I'll find out 
 yere en now whether a traitor girl or'a Southern officer rules 
 this place." 
 
 Before the blow could descend she sprung forward, seized 
 his wrist and stayed his hand. 
 
 " Wretch ! murderer ! coward 1 " she cried. 
 
 "Oh, come. Cousin Lou, this won't do at all," began 
 Whately, hastening up. 
 
 An ominous rush and trampling of feet was heard and an 
 instant later the negroes were seen running towards them 
 from the (juarters and all points at which the sounds of the 
 altercation reached them. 
 
 " Turn out the guard," shouted Vv'hately. " Rally the 
 men here with carbines and ball-cartridges." He whirled 
 i^erkins aside, saying, " Get out of the way, you fool." 
 Thep he drew his sabre and thundered to the negroes, 
 " Back, for your lives ! " 
 
 They hesitated and drew together. Miss Lou vvent directly 
 towards them and implored, " Go back. Go back. Do what 
 I ask and perhaps I can help you. If you don't, no one 
 'in or will help you. See, the soldiers are coming." 
 
 " We'll 'bey you. yoimg mistis," said Uncle Lusthah, " but 
 Q • 
 
 iiji 
 
 pi 
 
 if: 
 
 Mm 
 
 M4 
 
 
274 
 
 ''M/SS LOU."' 
 
 m 
 
 iiii! 
 
 f 
 
 i 
 
 1 ' ' 
 
 I. 
 
 ■ > 
 
 ii 
 
 fin: 
 
 we uns lak ter hab 'splained des what we got ter 'spect. 
 Wc kyant die but oncet, en ef we kyant eben bury de sogers 
 dat die fer us " — 
 
 "Silence ! " shouted AMiately. "Forward here, my men. 
 Form line ! Advance ! Shoot the first one that resists." 
 He then dashed forward, sought lo encircle his cousin with 
 his arm and draw her out of the way. 
 
 She eluded him and turned swiftly towards the advancing 
 line of men, crying, " Sto[), if tiiere is a droj) of Southern 
 blood in your veins." They halted and stared at her. She 
 resumed, " You will have to w:ilk over me before you touch 
 these poor creatures. Uncle " (for Mr. Baron now stood 
 aghast on the scene), "as yon are a man, come here with 
 me and speak, explain to your people. That is all they 
 ask. They have been told that they were free, and now the 
 oldest and best among them, who was doing my bidding, 
 almost suffered brutal violence from a man not fit to live. 
 Where is the justice, right or sense in such a course? Tell 
 your people what yoy wish, what you expect, and that they 
 will be treated kindly in obeying you." 
 
 She recognized that every moment gained gave time for 
 cooler thoughts and better counsels, also for the restraining 
 presence of others who were gathering upon the scene. It 
 was in the nature of lier headlong cousin to precipitate 
 trouble without thought of the consequences ; but as she 
 spoke she saw Surgeons Ackley and Borden running forward. 
 Captain Maynard was already at her side, and Whately 
 looked as if he could cut his rival down with the weapori in 
 his hand. While Mr. Baron hesitated Mrs. Whately also 
 reached her niece and urged, " Brother, I adjure you, go 
 and speak to your people. They are your people and you 
 should tell them what to expect before you begin to punish. 
 Go with Surgeon Ackley and settle this (question once. for 
 all." 
 
 w 
 
^ili'*^f5^RBVMIF»A'l! 
 
 san'UliWIW,. -^ f 
 
 TKCTII IF niE UEAl'EXS /A LI.. 
 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Baron," said Ackley sternly, " we must settle 
 this question promptly. Such uproar and excitement arc 
 bad for my j)aticnts and not to be permitted for an in- 
 stant." 
 
 It was evident that the surgeon was terribly angry. He 
 had been brought up in the old regular army, and anything 
 like insubordination or injury to his i)atients were things he 
 could not tolerate. ^Fr. Baron went forward with him and 
 said in a low tone, — 
 
 " You are virtually in command here and all know it. A 
 few words from you will have more effect than anything I 
 can say." 
 
 " Very well, then," responded the resolute surgeon, and 
 he strode towards the negroes, not noticing that Miss I>()U 
 kept almost at his side. 
 
 " I^ook here, you people," he began harshly, " do you 
 think I will permit such disturbances? They may be the 
 death of brave men. Quit your nonsense at once. You 
 are simply what you've always been. Yankee words don't 
 make you free any more than they make us throw down our 
 arms. What happened to the general who said you were 
 free? We fought him and drove him away. There is only 
 one thing you can do and must do — go to work as before, 
 and woe be to those who make trouble. That's all." 
 
 ** No," cried Miss Lou, " that surely cannot be all." 
 
 " Miss Baron ! What can you mean? " 
 
 " I mean that these poor creatures are looking to me, 
 trusting in me, and I have promised to intercede in their 
 behalf Tell them at least this, you or uncle, that if 
 they obey and work quietly and faithfully they shall not be 
 treated harshly, nor subjected to the brutal spite of that 
 overseer, Perkins." 
 
 "Truly, Miss Baron, you can scarcely expect me to inter- 
 fere with your uncle's management of his property. The 
 
 
 
 %i 
 
 al 
 
 '* fj 
 
Ill 
 
 ■ -i 
 
 Hi 
 
 I'l ■ 
 
 III 
 
 ill 
 
 2y6 
 
 .J//.S-.V /,(>r. 
 
 only thing I can and 7£u'// do is to insist c>n absolute (|uiet 
 and order on the plnre. In this case every one must obey 
 the surgeon-in-charge. Do you understand that? " he con- 
 cluded, turning to the iK'groes. " Neither you nor any one 
 else can do anything to injure my patients. As ^ou \alue 
 your lives, keej) (luiel. I will not permit even a harsh, dis- 
 turbing sound. Do not dare to presume on Miss Baron's 
 kindness, mistaken in tliis crisis. This unruly, reckless 
 si)irit nuist be stamped out now. V'our owner and master 
 will tell you what he expects and 1 will h.ive the fnsl man 
 who disobeys s/i/'/. Miss Baron, you must come with me." 
 
 "Yes, sir, but not until I have si)oken the truth about 
 this affair. All your power, Dr. Ackley, cann(3t kec|) me 
 dumb when I see such injustice. You are threatening and 
 condemning without having heard a word of explanation. 
 Uncle Lusthah and those with him were simply doing my 
 bidding. C'aii you think I would stand by and st*e him 
 cursed and beaten ? These people have not shown any 
 unruly, reckless spirit. They may well be bewildered, and 
 they only asked what th.ey nuist e\i)ect. (lod is my witness, 
 I will cry out 'Shame I 'with my last breath if they are 
 treated brutally. They will be ({uiet, they will do their duty 
 if treated kindly. They shall not appeal to me for justice 
 and mercy in vain. My words may not help them, but I 
 shall not stand tamely b\- like a coward, but will call any 
 man on earth coward who butchers one of these unarmed 
 
 ne'Toes." 
 
 ll 
 
 She stood before them all possessed by one thought — 
 justice."" Her face was very pale, but stern, undaunted and 
 noble in its expression. She was enabled to take her course 
 from the courage, simplicity and unconventionality of her 
 nature, becoming utterly absorbed by her impulse to defend 
 those who looked to her, neither regarding or fearing, in her 
 strong excitement, the consequences to herself. 
 
»•**• ■- ■■*»««>» 
 
 IN (I'll t //• rm-. Hi.Ai'i'.xs i.ii.i., 
 
 V7 
 
 Dr. IJordcii was liastcnin^ forward to remind Acklry ai 
 his promisr concerning Varry's grave, and to show tlie girl 
 that lu- at least would stand with her ; hut his chief waved 
 him back The old surgeon of the regular army could 
 ai)i)reciate courage, and the girl's words and asjjcct jjierced 
 tlu- thick crust of his military and i)r()fessi(jiKil armor, tou( h- 
 iiig to the ([uick the man within him. He saw in the bravo 
 young tace deliance of him, of the whole world, in her 
 sense of riLrht, and he had the innate nobilitv of soul to 
 respect her motive and acknowledge the justice of her 
 acti(jn. Watching her attentively until she was through 
 speaking he took off his hat, stepped forward and gave lu;r 
 his hand. 
 
 '• Vou are a l.)rave girl," he said frankly. '' Vou are doing 
 wliat you think is right and I am ])roud of you. 'I'ell these 
 people yourself to go back to their (|uarters, behave them- 
 selves and obey their rightful master. After your words in 
 their behalf any one who does not obey deserves to be 
 shot." 
 
 She was disarmed and subdued at once. " Ah, doctor," 
 slie faltered, tears in her eyes, " now you've con(|uered me." 
 Then turning towards the negroes she cried, "Do just as 
 Dr. Ackley has said. Go quietly to work and be patient. 
 Uncle Lusthah, you know 1 told you to do so before all this 
 happened. I tell you so again and shall expect you to use 
 all your influence to keep perfect order." 
 
 '' We 'bey you, young mistis ; we tank you fer speakin' up 
 fer us," and the old man led the way towards the (juarters, 
 followed by all his flock. 
 
 Dr. Ackley gave his arm to the girl and led her to the 
 house. Captain Maynard took oft his hat in a very def- 
 erential manner as she passed ; she walked on unheeding 
 the salutation. Whately frowned at him and dropped his 
 hand on the hilt of his sabre. At this pantomime Maynard 
 
 ml 
 
 h.L 
 
 i 
 
 \\ 
 
 
 ifr 
 
 'it Ah 
 

 ': 
 
 m'\v. 
 
 M 
 
 1 
 
 ;5 
 
 M 
 'l 
 
 
 ci;! 
 
 
 ii 
 
 
 
 278 
 
 "/1//.S'.V /.(9r/. " 
 
 siiiilocl contcinptMoiisly ;is he walked away, fn a few mo- 
 ments the scene was as (juiet and deserted as it liad been 
 crowded and threatening. 
 
 On the way to the liouse Miss Lou explained more fully 
 the circumstances relating to the dead soldier, Varry, and 
 A( kley said good-natinvdly. " Til Iiave Uncle I^usthah 
 and two others detailed to dig the grave and you can carry 
 out your intentions ; hut. Miss Haron, you must be careful in 
 the future how you let )c)ur inexperience and enthusiasm 
 involve you in conflict with all recognized authority. \Ve 
 are safely out of this scrape : I can't answer for anything 
 more." 
 
 " iielieve me," she said earnestly, " 1 tlon't wish to make 
 trouble of any kind, and after your course towards me, I 
 will seek lo carry out your orders in every way. U I dared 
 I would ask one favor. I'ncle Lusthah is too old to work in 
 the field and he is a kind good old man. If you would have 
 him detailed to wait on the wounded " — 
 
 " Ves, yes, I will. Vou are a brave, gooddiearted girl and 
 mean well. I shall rely on your ])romise to work cordiall)- 
 with me hereafter. Now go to your room and get calm and 
 rested. Vou are trembling like a frightened bird. I'll see 
 your uncle, cousin and Dr. Borden. Vou shall bury your 
 chivalrous Vank just as you wish. Then all must go accord- 
 ing to regulations." 
 
 vShe smiled as she gave him her hand, saying, " Vou may 
 ])ut me under arrest if I don't mind you in everything 
 hereafter." 
 
 " Well," muttered the surgeon, as he looked after her, " to 
 think that a girl shoukl have a probe long and shar]) enougli 
 to go straight to the heart of a man of my age ! No won- 
 der Maynard and Whately are over head and ears." 
 
rx3a^3if'':^ 
 
 ".//\7;A7. ()/•' DEATH.'' 
 
 279 
 
 CIlAini'R XXIX. 
 
 "ANdF.I, OK DKATH." 
 
 IT would seem as if the brief temi)est of the morning had 
 cleared the air. Two strong natures had asserted them- 
 selves. Surgeon Ackley's recognition of Miss Lou's spirit 
 and the justice of her plea turned out to be as politic as it 
 was sincere and unpremeditated. The slaves learned all 
 they could hope from her or any one now in authority and 
 were (compelled to see the necessity of submission. Whately 
 was taught another lesson concerning the beauties of head- 
 long action, while even his egotism was not i)roof against the 
 feeling that his cousin's straightforward fearlessness would 
 baffle all measures opposed to her sense of right. As for 
 Perkins, he began to fear as well as hate her, seeing her tri- 
 umph again. T'he only reward of his zeal had been Whate- 
 ly's words, "(iet out of the way, you fool." Thereafter, 
 with the exception of the girl's scathing words, he had been 
 ignored. He had been made to feel that Ackley's threats 
 had a meaning for him as well as for the negroes, and that 
 if he needlessly provoked trouble again he would be con- 
 fronted with the stern old army surgeon. Having known 
 Whately from a boy he stood in little fear of him, but was 
 convinced that he could not trifle with Ackley's patience an 
 instant. He now recognized his danger. In his rage he 
 had forgotten the wide difference in rank between the girl 
 he would injure and himself. The courtesy promptly shown 
 to her by Maynard and especially by the surgeon-in-chief 
 
 
 
 it-M 
 
 .':.!:J 
 
 , u 
 
2 So 
 
 "J//.S-.V r.oc.'' 
 
 ■ t 
 
 iiiii 
 ml 
 
 1 \s 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 ; » 
 
 
 
 \ i 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 \\ 
 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 ij 1: 
 
 
 
 "i 
 
 ' ' < ' 
 
 
 
 if 
 
 taught him that one whom hi; had scarcely noticed as she 
 grew up a repressed, brooding child and girl, possessed by 
 birth the consideration ever shown to a Sfjutheru lady. He 
 knew what that meant, even if he could not ap|)re( iate her 
 conduct. Maynard had scowled upon him ; Mrs. W'hately 
 l)estowed merely a glance ot' cold contempt, while her son 
 had failed him utterly as an ally. He therefore sullenly 
 drove his malice back into his heart with the feeling that he 
 must now bide his time. 
 
 Even Mr. IJaron was curt and .said brieflv before he left 
 the ground, "lie sure you're right before you go ahead. 
 Hereafter give your orders (juietly and let me know who dis- 
 obeys." 
 
 The old planter was at his wit's end about his niece, but 
 even he was compelled to see that his former methods with 
 her would not answer. New ideas were being fi)rced upon 
 him as if by surgical operations. Chief among them was 
 the truth that she could no longer be managed or restrained 
 by fear or mere authority oji the i)art of any one. He 
 would look at her in a sort of speechless wonder and ask 
 himself if she were the child to whom he had supposed 
 himself infallible so many years. Hi^ wife kept on the even 
 tenor of her way more unswervingly than any one on the 
 place. She was as incapable of Dr. Ackley's fine sentiment 
 as she was of her nephew's ungovernable passion. She 
 neither hoped nor tried to comprehend the " ])erversity " of 
 her niece, yet, in the perplexed conditions of the time, she 
 filled a most important and useful niche. Since the wounded 
 men were to be fed, she became an admirable commissary 
 general, preventing waste and exacting good wholesome 
 cookery on the part of Aun' Suke and her assistants. 
 
 Poor Yarry was buried quietly at last, Miss Lou, with Dr. 
 Borden, Captain Hanfield and two or three of his comrades 
 standing reverently by the grave while Uncle Lusthah offered 
 
'' ,tXG/:r OF /V'.// 77/. " 
 
 .?<St 
 
 his simple i)rayer. TlH'ti the girl threw \\\)n\\ tin* mound 
 s(»iiu' tiowcrs she had gathered and returned to her duties as 
 uurst*. The remains of the old (.'ontederate colonel were 
 sent to his family, with the letter which Miss Lou had written 
 for him. Kvery day the numbers in the hospital diminished, 
 either by death or by removal of the stronger [)atients to the 
 distant railroad town. Those sent away in ambulances and 
 other vehicles impressed into the service were looked after 
 by Surgeon Ackley with oflicial thoroughness and phlegm ; 
 in much the same si)irit and manner Dr. Williams presided 
 over the departure of others to the bourn from which none 
 return, then buried them wilii all proper observance. Uncle 
 Lustliah carried around by a sort of ste;ilth his j)earl of 
 simple, vital, hope-insj:)iring faith, and he found more than 
 one ready to give their all for it. T'u* old man pointed 
 directly to I'aiwho " taketh away the sin of the world," 
 then stood aside that dying eyes might look. With the best 
 intentions Dr. Williams, with his religious formulas, got 
 directly in the way, bewildering weak minds with a creed. 
 
 Mrs. Whately and her son went and came from their 
 j)lantation and were troubled over the condition of things 
 there. The slaves were in a state of sullen, smouldering 
 rebellion and several of them had disappeared. '' I fear 
 Madison has been too arbitrary," she admitted to her 
 brother. / 
 
 Mr. Baron shrugged his shoulders and smoked in silence. 
 Perhaps his preposterous niece had not been so crazy 
 after all. 
 
 Between Maynard and ^Vhately there were increasing 
 evidences of trouble, which the mother of the latter did her 
 best to avert by remonstrance and entreaty. On one occa- 
 sion Whately had said a little irritably, '' I say, Dr. Ackley, 
 what's the use of Maynard's hanging around here ? He is 
 almost well enough for duty." 
 
 & i '■ 
 
 ! if 
 
 .*i 
 
2«2 
 
 'M//.V.V t.Ot\ 
 
 I \\\ 
 
 \\ 
 
 ";l 
 
 ill 'i! 
 
 i 
 
 
 If! 
 
 ) i 
 
 \\ , 
 
 
 Til 
 
 '11 
 
 11 
 
 "ir" 
 
 l! 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 'i?i ' 
 
 " It is ( hii'fly out of < oiisidcration for you tli.il I ;iin 
 kcfpiiig him," replied the surgeon gravely, in well concealed 
 nuschicf. •' It is clear that he has ent'„._'d the lists with you 
 for your cousin's hand and I could not lurther his suit betti-r 
 than by sending him away, especially if it were susjjected 
 that I did so at your instigaticjn. lie is doing well here, 
 good-naturedly helps me in my writing and can soon go 
 direct to his regiment. It seems to me that your cousin 
 holds a pretty even balance between you, and all a man 
 should want is a fair field." 
 
 Whately walked frowningly away, more than ever con- 
 vinced that the surgeon was too good a friend of his rival to 
 interfere. 
 
 At the close of the fourth day after the battle there 
 was an arrival at The Oaks that greatly interested Miss 
 Lou, — a stately, white-haired old lady, the mother of 
 Lieutenant \\'al(lo. She was very ])ale and it would ha\r 
 been hard for Surgeon Ackley to meet her agonized look, 
 her shrinking as if from a blow, were he unable to hold out 
 any hope. 
 
 " Mrs. Waldo," he said gravely, "your son is living and 
 there's a chance of his getting well. Mis cheerfulness 
 and absolute (juiet of mind may save him. If he had fretted 
 or desponded he would have died before this." 
 
 "Yes," replied his mother with a great sigh of relief, "I 
 know." 
 
 " Miss Baron, will you kindly prepare Waldo for his 
 mother's visit? Meanwhile, I will tell her a little about his 
 case and our management of it. He doesn't know that I 
 sent for you, for I was not sure you could come." 
 
 *' Is this Miss Baron and one of my son's nurses ? " 
 
 "Yes, and doing more for him than I — giving him all 
 the bovine nectar and honeyed words he can take." 
 
 " God bless you, my dear. Please let me kiss you." 
 
'' ANcr.i. or Dj'.ATn.'' 
 
 2«3 
 
 i 
 
 When Miss I.ou cn'ju'd Waldo's tent he whispered with 
 a laugh, ** It's four hours since you wore here." 
 
 " No, scarcely two." 
 
 " Well, I'm as hungry as if it were four hours." 
 
 •'That's One. You're getting right well. Will you he 
 very good and (juiet — not a bit excited, if I let some one 
 else bring you your supper?" 
 
 She beamed upon him so joyously that he exclaimed 
 aloud, with a rush of tears, "Ah ! mother?" 
 
 The girl nodded and said, " Now remember, don't break 
 her heart by being worse." 
 
 "Oh, how sweet and lovely of her! I'll get well now, 
 sure." 
 
 "That's a nice way to treat your old nurse." 
 
 Smilingly he held out his hand and said, " Vou are almost 
 as pretty and good as she is. but you aren't mother." Then 
 he added in strong sympatiiy, " Forgive me. You haven't 
 anv, have vou? You don't know about this mother love." 
 
 " I know enough about it to have the heartache for its 
 lick. Now you must save your strength till she comes. 
 C.ood-by." 
 
 i'^rom that hour he steadily gained, banishing the h)ok of 
 anxiety from his mother's face. Mrs. \Vhately sighed as 
 she saw how her niece's heart warmed towards the stranger, 
 and how strong an attachment was growing between them. 
 " Louise is drifting away from us all," she thought, " yet I 
 cannot see that she encourages Captain Maynard." 
 
 A genuine friendship had also grown l)etween the girl and 
 Captain Hanfield, the Federal officer, and she was heartily 
 sorry when he told her that he would be sent to the railroad 
 town the next day. " My wound isn't doing well and I 
 seem to be running down," he explained. "Dr. Borden 
 has been able to keep me thus far, but I must go to-morro'A'. 
 Perhaps it's best. He is trying to get iTie paroled. If I 
 
 m 
 
 m. 
 
 \ \\ 
 
 m 
 
 .k\ S-I 
 
 
 ! J. 
 
Hi 
 
 III 
 
 III 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 if 
 
 1 
 
 f ' 
 
 
 ■ y< 
 
 • 
 
 
 f 
 
 
 
 . ' 
 
 
 
 
 ^i 
 
 
 
 fip«i 
 
 I i 
 
 
 
 284 
 
 A//SS /.or 
 
 could only get home to iny wife and children I'd rally fast 
 enough. rr>a all run down and this climate is enervating 
 to me." 
 
 She tried to hearieii him by kind, ho|)erul words and he 
 
 listened to her with a wistful look on his handsome face. 
 
 •"How ]'(l like you to meet my little girl!" he said, 
 
 " Won't 1 make her blue eyes open when I tell her about 
 
 you I " 
 
 Another bond of union between them was the captain's 
 acquaintance with Scoville, and he soon observed that she 
 listened very patiently and attentively when he spoke of the 
 brave scout's exploits. '' I declare." he had said, laughing, 
 " I keep forgetting that you are a Southern girl and that you 
 may not i^njoy hearing of the successes of so active an 
 enemy." 
 
 " Lieutenant Scoville is not a personal enemy," she had 
 replied guardedly. "He showed us all very great kindness, 
 me especially. I wish that both you and he were on our 
 side." 
 
 " Well, as you say down here, I reckon we are on iw//' 
 side any way," had been the captain's smiling reply. 
 
 She spoke to Surgeon Ackley promptly about the pros- 
 pects of a parole, but he said, "Impossible, Miss Baron. 
 The question would at once arise, 'If granted to Ilanfield, 
 why not to others ? ' I reckon Borden has been trying to 
 rally his friend by hopes even when knowing them baseless." 
 
 This proved to be the ca^c, and the following day brought 
 the young girl a strange and very sad experience. Dr. 
 I^orden appeared at breakfost looking troubled and per- 
 plexed. Miss Lou immediately inc^uired about the captain. 
 The doctor shook his bead saying, " He isn't so well. I'd 
 like to speak with you by and l)y." 
 
 She was so depressed by the surgeon's aspect that she 
 paid little heed to the conversation of her two admirers and 
 
'AyCl'.I. OF DEATH." 
 
 285 
 
 are on your 
 
 soon left the table. 'Jorden followed her, and »vhen they 
 were alone began sadly, " ^liss Baron, perhap'; T am going 
 to ask of you far too much, but you have shown yourself to 
 be an unusually brave girl as well as a kind-hearted one. 
 Hanfield is an old friend of mine and jxrhaps I've tlone 
 wrong to mislead him. iiut I tlidn't and couldn't foresee 
 what has happened, and I did hope to start inm in genuine 
 ( onvalescence, feeling sure that if he got well lie would give 
 up the hope of going home as a matter of couise. So far 
 from succeeding, a fatal disease has set in — tetamis, lock- 
 jaw. He's living and doesn't know it. I can't tjU him. 
 I've made the truth doubly cruel, for I've raised falsi: hopes. 
 He continually talks of home and his pleading eyes stab 
 me. You can soften the blow to him, soothe and sustain 
 him in meeting what is sure to come." 
 
 '' Oh, is there no hope ? " 
 
 " None at all. He can't live. If ycu feel that the ordeal 
 would be too painful — I wouldn't ask it if I hadn't seen in 
 you unexpected qualities." 
 
 "Oh, I must help him bear it; yet how can I? how 
 shall I?" 
 
 . " Well, I guess your heart and sympathy will guide you. 
 I can't. I can only say you had better tell him the whole 
 truth. He ought to know it for his own and family's sake 
 now, while perfectly rational. Soften the truth as you can, 
 l)ut you can't injure him by telling it plainly, for he will die. 
 (lod knows, were it my case, the tidings wouldn't seem so 
 very terrible if told by a girl like you." 
 
 ' Oh, but the tidings are so terrible to speak, especially 
 to such a man. Think of his beautiful wife and daughter, 
 of his never seeing them again. Oh, it's just av/ful," and 
 her face grew white at the prospect. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Baron, it is. In the midst of all the blood 
 i'.nd carnage of the war, every now and then a case conies 
 
 
 1^1 
 
 
 m 
 
 '% 
 
 - 41 
 
 , -fit 
 
V 1 I " ! 
 
 I I' ' 
 
 286 
 
 M/S.S LOU." 
 
 Mill! 
 
 I'i 
 
 ||ii 
 
 Jiii 
 
 
 Jti 
 
 up which makes even my c?.llousecl heart admit, ' It's just 
 awful.' I'm only seeking to make it less awful to my poor 
 friend, and perhaps at too great cost to you." 
 
 " Well, he on his side, and others on ours, didn't count 
 the cost ; neither must I. 1 must not think about it or my 
 heart will fail me. I will go at once." 
 
 " Come then, and God help you and hi in." 
 
 A straw-bed had been made up in a large, airy box- 
 stall where the captain could be by himself. Uncle Lusthaii 
 was in attendance and he had just brought a bowl of 
 milk. 
 
 Borden had left Miss Lou to enter alone. The captain 
 held out his hand and said cheerfully, '' Well, it's an ill wind 
 that blows nowhere. This one will blow me home all tne 
 sooner I trust, for it must be plainer now than ever that I 
 need the home change which will put me on my feet again. 
 You needn't look so serious. 1 feel only a little more poorly 
 than I did, — sore throat and a queer kind of stiffness in my 
 jaws as if I had taken cold in them." 
 
 " Do I look very serious? " she faltered. 
 
 "Yes, you look as if troubled about something. But 
 ihere, see what an egotistic fellow I am ! As if you hadn't 
 troubles of your own ! pretty deep ones too, I fear. Our 
 coming here has given you a wonderful experience, Miss 
 Baron. No matter ; you've met it like a soldier and will 
 have much to remember in after years. You can never 
 become a common-place woman now and there are such a 
 lot of 'em in the world. When I remember all you have 
 done for us it makes me ill to think of some in our town — 
 giggling, silly little flirts, wilh no higher ambition than to 
 strut down the street in a new dress." 
 
 " Oh, don't think of them or over-praise me. Perhaps if 
 they had been here and compelled to face thing? they would 
 have done better than I. A short time ago I didn't dream 
 
AXGKL OF DEATUr 
 
 287 
 
 
 didn't dream 
 
 of these experiences, and then I would have said I couldn't 
 possibly cnilure them."' 
 
 " Well, you have," resumed the cap*ain, vho was slightly 
 feverish, excited and incUned to talk. " One of my clearest 
 hopes now is to get back to my little girl soon and deepen 
 her mind by making her ashamed of the silly things in a 
 girl's life. Of course I wish her to be joyous and happy as 
 a young thing should be, as 1 linnk you would be if you 
 had the chance. By means of your story I can n\ake her 
 ashamed ever to indulge in those i)icayune, contemptible 
 feminine traits which exasperate men. I want her to be 
 brave, helpful, sincere, like you, like her mother. How 
 cjuickly poor Yarry recognized the spirit in which you came 
 among us at first ! Jove ! I didn't think him capable of 
 such feeling. I tell you Miss Baron, the roughest of us rev- 
 erence an unselfish woman — one who doesn't think of her- 
 self first and always. She mayn't be ii saint, but if she has 
 heart enough for sympathy and is brave and simple enough 
 to bestow it just IS a cool spring gushes from the ground, 
 we feel she is the woman God meant her to be. Ah, uncle, 
 that reminds me — another cup of that cold water. For 
 some reason I'm awfully thirsty this morning." 
 
 Miss Lou listened with hands nervously clasping and un- 
 clasping, utterly at a loss to know how to tell the man, 
 dreaming of home and planning for the future, that he must 
 soon sleep beside poor Yarry. She had already taken to 
 herself the mournful comfort that his grave also should be 
 where she could care for it and keep it green. 
 
 " I wish to tell you more about my little Sadie and my 
 wife. Some day, when this miserable war is over, you will 
 visit us. We'll give you a reception then wiiicl may turn 
 even your head. Ha ! ha ! you thought we'd be worse than 
 Indians. Well, I'll show you a lot of our squaws in full 
 evening dress and you'll own that my wife is the prettiest in 
 
 14 
 
 til 
 
 I- 
 
Ill 
 
 i If il 
 
 
 w 
 
 ni 
 
 til I i < ■ 
 
 I i it 
 
 « if 
 
 »l!IU 
 
 288 
 
 J//.S-.V ZfJ^^. " 
 
 the tribe. Every (by, until we started on tliis blasted raid, 
 I received a letter from her. I knew about as well what was 
 going on at home as if there. With my wife it was love 
 almost at first sight, but I can tell you that it's not ' out of 
 sight out of mind ' with us. Time merely adds to the pure, 
 bright flame, and such a pair of lovers- as we shall be when 
 gray as badgers will be worth a. journey to you." 
 
 Miss l.ou could maintain her self-control no longer. She 
 burst into tears and sobbed helplessly. 
 
 " You poor little girl," exclaimed the captain in deep 
 commiseration. " Ilere I've been talking like a garrulous 
 fool when your heart is burdened with some trouble that 
 perhaps you would like to speak to me about. Tell me, my 
 child, just as little Sadie would." 
 
 " My heart is burdened with trouble, captain ; it feels as 
 if it would break when I hear you talk so. Would to God 
 little Sadie were her(;, and your beautiful wife too ! Oh, 
 what shall I say? How can I, how can I?" 
 
 " Miss Barcn ! " he exclaimed, looking at her in vague alarm. 
 
 "O Captain Hanfield, you are a brave, unselfish man like 
 Varry. Don't make it too hard for me. Oh, I feel as if I 
 could scarcely breathe." 
 
 As he saw her almost panting at his side and tears stream- 
 ing from her eyes, the truth began to dawn upon him. He 
 looked at her steadily and silently for a moment, then 
 reached out his hand as he said in an awed whisper, '* Is it 
 on account of me? Did Borden send you here? " 
 
 She took his hand, bowed her forehead upon it and wept 
 speechlessly. 
 
 She felt it tremble for a moment, then it was withdrawn 
 and placed on her bowed head. " So you are the angel of 
 death to me?" the ((ficer faltered. 
 
 Her tears were her only, yet sutilicient ans»ver. Both were 
 silent, she not having the heart to look at him. 
 
 Lv 
 
Wn 
 
 ''ANGKI. OF nEATirr' 
 
 289 
 
 ,s withdrawn 
 
 At last he said in deep tones, " I wasn't expecting this. 
 It will make a great change in" — and then he was silent 
 
 agani. 
 
 She took his limp hand and bowed her forehead on it, 
 as before, feeling by some fine instinct that her unspoken 
 sympathy was best. 
 
 It was. The brave man, in this last emergency, did as 
 he would have done in the field at the head of his company 
 if sul)jected to a sudden attack. He promptly rearranged 
 and marshalled all his faculties to face the enemy. There 
 was not a moment of despairing, vain retreat. In the strong 
 pressure upon his mind of those questions which must now 
 be settled once for all, he forgot the girl by his side. He 
 was still so long that she timidly raised her head and was 
 awed by his stern, fixed expression of deep abstraction. 
 She did not disturb him except as the stifled sobs of her 
 deep, yet now passing agitation convulsed her bosom, and 
 she began to give her attention to Uncle Lusthah, hitherto 
 unheeded. The old man was on his knees in a dusky 
 corner, praying in low tones. "Oh, I'm so glad he's here," 
 she thought. " I'm glad he's praying God to help us both." 
 In the uncalculating sympathy and strength of her nature 
 she had unconsciously entered into the dying man's expe- 
 rience and was suffering ^v'ith him. Indeed, her heart sank 
 with a deeper dread and awe than he from the great change 
 which he had faced so often as to be •familiar with its 
 thought. 
 
 At last he seemed to waken to her presence and said 
 ^-ompassionately, " Poor little girl I so all your grief was 
 about me. How pale you are ! " 
 
 " I do so wish you could go home," she breathed ; " I 
 am so very, vc7'y sorry." 
 
 "Well, Miss Baron," he replied with dignity, "I'm no 
 better than thousands of others. I always knew this might 
 li 
 
 I m_ 
 
 l:i. 
 
 t 4 \ 
 
 M 
 
 I;' 
 
' --h 
 
 III 
 
 HI 
 
 iJ! 
 
 ! , 
 
 Ilii 
 
 '■ 
 
 i!i: 
 
 290 
 
 "Af/SS l.OC. 
 
 happen any day. Yon have learned why il is jjeculiarly hard 
 for me — but tliat's not to be thouglit of now. If I've got 
 my marching orders, that's enough for a soldier. It was 
 scarcely right in iJortlen to give you this heavy task. I 
 could iiave faced the truth from his lii)s." 
 
 " He felt so dreadfully about it," she replied. " He said 
 he had been giving you false hopes in trying to make you 
 get well." 
 
 " Oh yes, he meant kindly. Well, if it hasn't been too 
 much for you, I'm glad you told me. Your sympathy, your 
 face, will be a sweet memory to carry, God only knows 
 where. Since it can't be little Sadie's face or my wife's I'm 
 glad it's yours. \,'hat am I saying? as if I should forget 
 their dear faces through all eternity." 
 
 " Ah ! captain, I wish you coukl hear one of our soldiers 
 talk. Dying with him just means going to Heaven." 
 
 The officer shook his head. " I'm not a Christian," he 
 said simply. 
 
 " Neither am I," she replied, " but I've been made to 
 feel that being one is very different from what I once 
 thought it was." 
 
 *' Well, Miss Baron, what is it to be a Christian — what is 
 your idea of it? There has always seemed to me such a 
 lot of conflicting things to be considered — well, well, I 
 haven't given the subject thought and it's too late now. 
 I must give my mind to my family and " — 
 
 Uncle Lusthah stepped before him with clasped hands 
 and quivering lips. " Ef marse cap'n des list'n ter de ole 
 man a minit. I ain' gwine ter talk big en long, I kyant. 
 I des wanter say I hab 'sperance. Dat sump'n, marse 
 cap'n, you kyant say not'n agin — rale 'sperance, sump'n I 
 knows y 
 
 " Well, you kind old soul, what do you know ? " 
 
 ** P'raps des what mars'r knows ef he ony tinks ti lil. 
 
m 
 
 '' AiVciJ. or /)/:.i77r.'' 
 
 29 r 
 
 \><\ 
 
 n 
 ■'^1 
 
 l,ct US git righl down tor do root oh do niurtcr, k;i/c [ 
 feared dcrc ain' time fer 'locutions." 
 
 " Now you're right at least, uncle. I must set my house 
 in order. I must write to my wife." 
 
 " Marse cap'n, you gwine on a journey. Wat yo' wife 
 wish mo'n dat you git ready fer de journey ? She tek dat jour- 
 ney too, bime by soon, en you bof be at de same deah home." 
 
 "Ah, uncle, if that could be true, the sting of death 
 would be gone." 
 
 *' Sut'ny, marse cap'n. Didn't I know dat ar w'en I mek 
 bole ter speak? Now des tink on hit, mars'r. Yere I is, 
 an ole ign'rant slabe, kyant eben read de good Book. De 
 worl' full ob poor folks lak me. Does you tink ef de Lawd 
 mean ter sabe us 't all He'd do hit in some long rouner-bout 
 way dat de wise people kyant mos' fm' out? No, bress 
 He gret big heart. He des stan' uj) en say to all, 'Come ter 
 me en I gib you res'." 
 
 "Yes, uncle, but I haven't gone to Him. I don't know 
 liowto go, and what's more, I don't /eel it's right to go now 
 at the last minute as if driven by fear." 
 
 " Now cap'n, fergib de ole man fer sayin' you all wrong. 
 Haint young mistis been breakin' her lil gyurlish heart 
 ol)er yo' trouble? Am de Lawd dat die fer us wuss'n a 
 graven himage? Doan He feel fer you mo'n we kiif? I 
 reck'n you got des de bes' kin' of prep'ration ter go ter 
 'Im. You got trouble. How He act towards folks dat hab 
 trouble — ev'y kin' ob trouble? Marse cap'n, I des knows 
 dat de Lawd wanter brung you en yo' wife en dat lil Sadie 
 I year you talk 'bout all togeder whar He is. I des knows 
 hit. Hit's 'sperance." 
 
 " Miss Baron," said the captain calmly, " Isn't it wonder- 
 lul? This old slave says he knows what, if true, is worth 
 more to me than all the accumulated wisdom of the world. 
 What do you think of it?" 
 
 0m 
 
 ■fit 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 M 
 
If } 
 
 lljl 
 
 iPh 
 
 M,! 
 
 V I , 
 
 2i)2 
 
 "j/Ass 1.0 r. 
 
 u;i 
 
 *' 1 1 seems .IS if it ouglit lo br true," slie answered 
 earnestly. " T never so felt before that it oui::;ht lo Ije true. 
 We never shoukl have been born, or given such love as you 
 have for your dear ones, if it isn't true. Oh, to be just 
 snatched hopelessly away from such ties is horrible. My 
 whole soul revolts at it." 
 
 "See here, uncle," said tiie captain almost sternly, 'Tm 
 not going to groan, sigh, weep, and take on in any of your 
 camp-meeting tactics. I am before the last great enemy 
 antl I know ho.w to meet him like a man and soldier, if not 
 a Christian. I'm willing to do anything not insincere or 
 unmanly to meet my wife and children again. If my thought 
 and feeling for them at this time isn't right, then I've been 
 created wrong." 
 
 " Marse cap'n, I'se seen de mos' po'ful feelin's en mis- 
 eries ob de 'victed ones vaperate lak de mawnin' dew en 
 I'se larn in my ole age dat de sabin po'r ain' in we uns, 
 ner in any ting we is ob oursefs ner in w'at we po' lil chil'n 
 of yearth kin do. De Lawd say, He come ter seek en sabe 
 de loss ; I wuz loss. De wuss ting He enemies cud speak 
 agin 'Im wuz, Dis man 'ceiveth sinners : I wuz a sinner. 
 I des arst 'Im ter sabe me, en He did. I des trus' 'Im fer 
 life en death en does de bes' I kin. Dat's all. But hit's 
 \<pc?fince, marse cap'n, en I knoivs hit. Now, marse cap'n, 
 w'at fo' you go way in de dark, you dunno whar? De 
 bressed Lawd say, I go ter prepare a place fer you. Now 
 you des let young mist's write ter yo' folks dat you gwihe 
 wid Jesus ter dat ar place en dat you gwine ter wait fer dem 
 dar en welcome um home bimeby des lak dey wud welcome 
 you home way up Norf. Dat ud comft era a heap, en hit's 
 all true. I knows hit. Young mistis berry sens'ble w'en she . 
 say we neber orter be bawn ef hit ain' true." 
 
 The officer looked fixedly at the tearful, wrinkled face 
 for a few moments and then said firmly, " I'll soon find out 
 
'' ANCEl. OF /V'.V/y//. " 
 
 2<;3 
 
 if it's true. If I do tliis tiling at all, I'll do it in the only 
 way I can. Miss P>aron, you may write to my wife tiiat I 
 accept her faith. It's much the same as Uncle Lusthah's — 
 too simple and imphil()so])hical, I used to think ; but it 
 meets my need now. I ( an't deal even with (lod in any 
 (jther way than this. The mind he has endowed me with 
 revolts at anything else as hypocritical. I can and do say 
 that I will accept in grateful, downright sincerity the terms 
 which Uncle Lusthah acceptet*, which my wife accepted. 
 I submit myself to His will. I do this calmly, as I would 
 give my hand and pledge my faith to a man, and I cannot 
 do any more. Now lie may do with me as He pleases. 
 Miss Baron, you do the same and you'll be just as good — 
 yes, a much better Christian than I, for I've done rough, 
 bad things in my life. Don't you wait till you're in my 
 extremity. I must say that I have a wretched sense of self- 
 contempt that I am looking 1 leavenward with dying eyes. 
 There's only one thing that reconciles me to it — the words 
 ' Our Father.' God knows that I'd open my arms to my 
 little Sadie under any possible circumstances. What the old 
 man here says must be true, for to trifle with or mock a man 
 in my position presui)poses_ a degree of malignity inconceiv- 
 able. I ask nothing better than that Christ will receive me 
 as I would receive my child from world-wide wandering." 
 
 "Ah, bress He big gret heart," cried Uncle Lusthah, 
 droi)ping on his knees, " w'en yo' fader en yo' moder forsook 
 you den de Lawd took you up." 
 
 " Miss Baron, I wish to think a while and learn from 
 Borden just how much time I have left. You will come to 
 me again? " 
 
 " Yes, whenever you wish." 
 
 " Well, then, good-by for a short time. Thank Cod for 
 sending me such an angel of deatli. You stay with me, 
 uncle, till I send you for Borden." 
 
 i 
 
 U\\ 
 
 
 !,3 
 
 , 1 
 
 ,.', tall 
 
 M('f 
 
I 
 
 MM 
 
 294 
 
 .)/Ass /.or." 
 
 C'HAl»ri<R XXX. 
 
 C.MMPSKS OK MOOnS AND MINDS. 
 
 'II !l(! 
 
 in 
 
 u 
 
 DR. ROROKN'S i)rc(lirtions were verified in regard to 
 his friend and patient, Cai)tain Hanfield, Init not before 
 tlie officer had dictated eahn, farewell letters to his wife and 
 " little Sadie." To Miss Lou were left the serene, smiling 
 hkenesses, a grave to be cared tor beside Varry's, and a 
 memory that could never be blotted out. She was kept 
 from witnessing the terrible convulsions which began soon 
 after her interview, but was ])resent at his death and held 
 his hand until it was cold and lifeless. 
 
 ^^'ithin two weeks after the battle very few ])atients were 
 let't, and all these were to go with Dr. Ackley on the follow- 
 ing day, Lieutenant Waldo excepted. He was still too weak 
 to be moved. His mother had become so skilful in the 
 care of his wound that she would be comi)etent, with the 
 lielp of an aged resident ])ractitioner, to carry him through 
 his convalescence. Mrs. \Vhately now spent most of the 
 time on her plantation, her presence being needed there to 
 remedy the effects, as far as possible, of the harsh measures 
 at first adopted by her son. It was discouraging effort. 
 The strong ebb title in the old order of things had set in 
 even far from the L^nion lines, and only the difficulty in 
 reaching them prevented a general stampede of the negroes. 
 As it was, two or three of her l)est hands would steal away 
 from time to time, and run the gantlet of many dangers in 
 their travel by night Northward. Her attempts to mollify 
 
 m 
 
GL/Arrs/'.s or moo/)s axp .\r/.vns. 
 
 295 
 
 ninl render her slaves contented were more than ( ounter- 
 l)alanced by the threats and severity of her son, wlio was 
 too vacillating to adopt a fixed policy, and arbitrary by 
 nature. 
 
 ller ( hiet" hoi)e tor hirn still centered in Miss Lou, upon 
 wlioni his thoughts were fixed with a steadfastness and ear- 
 nestness which his mother fondly believed would win her 
 eventually. "I'm sure," she reasoned, *'(.'aj)tain Maynard 
 has made no tleep imi)ression. lie is about to (K'|)art. All 
 will soon be gone, and the old mcMiotony of phmlation 
 life will be resumed. After what has haj)i)ened Ivouise will 
 not be able to endure this. Madison will return, older and 
 wiser from exjjerience and she, with nothing else to occujjy 
 her thoughts will react, like all imi)ulsive natures, from her 
 opposition. Next to winning her or her fiivor from the 
 start, he has scored a suc(X'ss in waking a hostility far 
 removed from fiital indifference." 
 
 She maintained an affectionate manner towards her niece 
 and never discussed the hope she entertained antl expecta- 
 tion of calling her daughter. In truth, she had won the 
 girl's respect and good-will in a very high degree. She had 
 been a kind and successful nurse among the wounded, con- 
 fining her efforts chiefly to the Confederates. She had also 
 been a dignified lady in all the scenes they had passed 
 through. Her weakness was her son, yet the girl was com- 
 l)elled to admit that it was the weakness of love. In seeking 
 to bring about the detested union a motherly heart and 
 feeling towards her had ever been apparent. 
 
 The girl was already becoming depressed by a presenti- 
 ment of the dull, stagnant days to come. Scoville had been 
 lost in the great outside, unknown world completely. She 
 was suffering from reaction after the strong excitements and 
 fatigues of her experience. Her two lovers, remaining on 
 the scene, possessed a sort of goading interest which com- 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 I. ] 
 
 
 WA 
 
11 
 
 liM! 
 
 'HI 
 
 i 
 
 ■III 
 
 i;r 
 
 wu 
 
 ' 1 
 
 2ijC) 
 
 •M//.S.V /.oc/r* 
 
 pclk'd Ikt to think of them, but she conlcniijUitcd tlicir near 
 dcpartiirt' witlioiit logri-l. Notliiiig in hrv nature answereil 
 to their looks, words and evident ilesires. Siie felt that she 
 would as stK)n marry one as the other and that she would 
 rather hi- buried beside Captain Ilanfield and take the jour- 
 ney of which Tncle l.uslhah had (|uaintly si)()ken than wed 
 either. \'et in her lassitude she feared that sIk' (•ou1(+ how be 
 eomi)elle(l to marry either or any one if enoui^h active force 
 was emjjloyed, so strangely had ebbed her old fearless sj)irit. 
 
 It was with a kind of wondiTing pity that she looked at 
 Maynard and saw the evidences of an honest, ardent attach- 
 ment. "Why does he feel so?" she asked herself. *' I 
 have done nothing for him, given no encouragement, and 
 would not care if I never saw him again. I merely wish 
 him well, as I do so many others. Why can't he see this, 
 and just act on the truth? He says he is coming to see me 
 every chance he gets and tries to make me feel that he'll 
 never give me up. ]Vrhai;.> if I should let him speak plainly 
 he would see how useless it all would be." 
 
 Circumstances apparently favored the half- formed pur- 
 pose. Languid from the heat of the day, she went out 
 on the piazza after supper, sat down on the upper step 
 and leaned against a rose entwined pillar. ATaynard was 
 entranced by the picture she made and promptly availed 
 himself of the opportmiity. livery one else had disappeared 
 except Zany, of whom glimpses could be caught through the 
 open windows of the supper-room ; but she did not count. 
 Sitting on a lower step so as to be in a measure at her feet 
 Ma)nard began. 
 
 " Miss Baron, I am thinking very sadly, if you are not, 
 over the fact that I am to go away in the morning." 
 
 " Yes," she replied, half-consciousiy ignoring his personal 
 view, " the old house and ])lantation will soon be as quiet 
 and deserted as before." 
 
(;/./J//'.VA.S Ol' MOODS AM) .\//X/KS. 
 
 2i)7 
 
 you are not, 
 
 " Do you ivgrcl lliis?" 
 
 " I scarcely know. I am very tind .ukI leel ^ad over all 
 ijiat has iiappened. Periiaps I'll feel (lilVereiUly by and by, 
 when I've rested and had time to think." 
 
 *'() Miss liarou, if you knew how earnestly 1 hope to 
 be remembered in those thoughts, to give you something 
 defmite to think of." 
 
 She had scarcely the energy to check him, the thought 
 occurring mcjre than once, " i might just as well let him 
 speak his mind and see how vain his hope is." 
 
 " Vou have not given me encouragement," he resumed. 
 '* You have seemed too preoccupied, sad or weary ; but 
 this phase of your life will i)ass away. Our glorious cause 
 nuist soon be crowned with success. If I survive, may I 
 not hope that when I come again you will give me a hearing, 
 a chance? I can be patient, even though not patient by 
 nature. I will do all that a man " — 
 
 '' Captain," interrupted the girl, at last, " I sui)pose, from 
 the books I've read, I should make some fine si)eeches 
 about the honor you are bestowing on me, and all that. 
 I'm too tired and sad for anything conventional and appro- 
 priate. I'm just going to answer you like a simple, honest 
 girl. One of my chief reasons for sadness now is that you 
 feel as you do. I see no reason for it. I'm glad you say 
 I've given you no encouragement, for I know I have not. 
 Why should you care so for me when I do not and cannot 
 respond at all? I do sincerely wish you well, but it seems 
 to me that it should be enough for a man when a girl listens 
 to such words as yours in weary sadness only." 
 
 " It may be hard indeed for a man to recognize this 
 truth. Miss Baron, but I am not speaking of the present — 
 of the Aiture rather. There has been much to make you 
 sad and weary. Vf>ur very youth and high spirit will soon 
 lead you to react from your present depression. Ix*t nic 
 
 t! 
 
 ll 
 
 ( !1; 
 
 I w. 
 
 ^1 
 
 '■T, 
 
Pniilll 
 
 298 
 
 M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 n 
 
 m 
 
 iilii' 
 
 \\\\\ 
 
 I" 
 
 Hi 
 
 I.' ' 
 
 i!i 
 
 W'A 
 
 §4 . { 
 
 M 
 
 I,: 
 
 speak of the future. Please let me fill that with hope for 
 you and for me." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know about the future. For some reason 
 I dread even to think of it." 
 
 At this instant Whately galloped to the piazza, threw the 
 reins on the neck of his horse as he dismounted, evidendy 
 not caring in his perturbation where the animal wandered. 
 He was in a bad mood, for things were not going smoothly 
 at hom'". The attitude of his rival at his cousin's feet stung 
 him into a jealous rage and he remarked bitterly as he strode 
 past them, " Don't let my inopportune arrival disturb this 
 charming tete-a-tete. In fact, I had no business to remain 
 at my uncle's home at all, even at the call of dutyj after 
 Captain Maynard signified his intention of making it the 
 long continued field of his operations." 
 
 Cut to the quick, Maynard sprang to his feet, but Miss Lou 
 merely made a gesture of annoyance and went to her room. 
 
 " Lieutenant Whately," began the captain in low, stern 
 tones, " were I not in some sense a guest, even though an 
 unwelcome one " — 
 
 " You are no guest of mine, sir, nor indeed of any one 
 that I am aware of." 
 
 "Thank you. I was haunted by some restraining con- 
 sideration of Southern hospitality, but if I am free " — 
 
 "You are perfectly free, sir," again interrupted Whately, 
 dropping his hand on the hilt of his sabre. " Let n-'e also 
 add that a Southern gentleman would not have made South- 
 ern hospitality a subterfuge for an opportunity to press a 
 suit repugnant to the family concerned. We have never 
 failed in hospitality to any invited guest." 
 
 " Your words are offensive, sir." 
 
 " I mean them to be so." 
 
 " Very well ; then 1 have but one answer. I challenge 
 you. Choose your weapons, hour and place of meeting." 
 
with hope for 
 
 r some reason 
 
 ;d of any one 
 
 GLIMPSES OF MOODS A.VD MINDS. 
 
 299 
 
 " Revolvers, if you please. Meet me back of the grove 
 yonder, at the right of the house, at daybreak." 
 
 " I'll not fail you. There is no need of seconds in this 
 afAiir I take it, and we aie to keep our purpose secret. Dr. 
 Ackley would interfere and the family be distressed were 
 our intentions known." 
 
 " No one need know till our shots are heard and thtn it 
 will be too late to interfere. I insist that we figh': tc the 
 death." 
 
 " Certainly, if that's your wish. Good-evening, sir." 
 
 " Good-evening," and Whately went to his room to re- 
 move the dust of his ride and prepare for the late supper 
 which his aunt had ordered for him. 
 
 This lady, hearing his step in the hall, hastened down 
 stairs and called for Zany. " Yassum," came in quick 
 response. The young woman emerged from the dining- 
 room looking as stolid as a wooden image. 
 
 " Attend to Lieutenant Whately's supper and see that he 
 has the best you can get for him." 
 
 '' Yassum." 
 
 Mrs. Barcn then repaired to her husband's office, where 
 he and Surgeon Ackley were closeted, making up the ac- 
 counts relating to the occupation of the property for hospital 
 l)urposes. Maynard lighted his pipe, and strolled out into 
 the grounds. He was in a cold, deadly mood of anger. 
 There was just enough sting of truth in Whately's words to 
 make the insult unendurable. Added to this was intense 
 exasperation that he had been interrupted ?t a critical and 
 as he beheved, a hopeful, moment. He had seen that the 
 girl was not ready for his suit or that of any one at present, 
 but was quite sure he could have won permission to renew his 
 addresses in the future. Now — well, he was ready enough 
 to fight to the death, and utterly oblivious of the still, serene 
 beauty of the night. He appeared but a shadow vis he 
 
 
 I' 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 .'Si a 
 
 
 I ■% 
 
 % 
 
300 
 
 "J//.S.V /.(7r. " 
 
 M 
 
 walked (luielly under tlie trees, but it was a shadow of death. 
 An hour since and he was but a passionate youth, full of 
 ardent love and longing, vaguely insi)ired, under the influ- 
 ence of his i)assion, towards all noble enthusiasms. At the 
 touch of a few wt)rds his heart overflowed with bitterness, 
 and a cold, vindictive hate rendered the hours interniinable 
 till he could aim a bullet at his rival's heart, reckless mean- 
 time that another ItuUct was aimed at his. 
 
 In his walk he i)asse(l the tent in which Lieutenant Waldo 
 and his mother were talking (juietly t)f their home and the 
 prospects of maintaining it during the troublous times clearly 
 foreseen. 
 
 *' Mother," said Waldo, " have you any definite idea as to 
 the success of our arms?" 
 
 " No, Vincent, nor do I suppose we can at this remote 
 l)lantation. We only know that there is heavy fighting at 
 various i)oints and great successes are claimed : l)ut it seems 
 very hard to get at the real truth. Our chief confidence 
 must be in the sacredness and justness of our cause and in 
 the prayers of so many sincere hearts to the ( lod of justice. 
 In giving you, my son, to our country, when you were 
 scarcely more than a boy, you can understantl why I feel 
 that such sacrifices cannot be in vain. Now that 1 have 
 v\atched beside )'ou i'.i your patient, heroic suffering, the 
 feeling becomes a conviction that our sunny land must 
 be enriched and blessed for all time by such blood as 
 
 yours." 
 
 " Well, mother, I do not begrudge my blood or my life. 
 Vou have taught me that to die is gain ; but almost hourly 
 I pray for recovery that I may soon rejoin my regiment and 
 do more towards achieving our liberty. How strange it is 
 that men of the North should be animated by much the 
 same spirit ! Miss Baron has been showing me the lovely 
 faces of tlic wife aiid daughter of a Federal officer who died 
 
i 
 
 (;/./An\s/:s or moo /is Ax/y a//.\7)\\ 
 
 30 1 
 
 adow of death, 
 youth, full of 
 idor the influ- 
 asms. At thr 
 ,'ith l)ittL'rness. 
 s interminabk' 
 •ecklcss mcan- 
 
 ■utenant Waldo 
 home and the 
 us times clearly 
 
 nite idea as to 
 
 al this remote 
 
 avy fighting at 
 
 I ; l)ut it seems 
 
 ief confidence 
 
 cause and in 
 
 iod of justice. 
 
 |hen you were 
 
 k1 why I feel 
 
 ,v tliat I have 
 
 suffering, the 
 
 IV land must 
 
 ich blood as 
 
 bd or my life, 
 lalmost hourly 
 [regiment and 
 strange it is 
 Iby much the 
 |iie the lovely 
 icer who die(l 
 
 heroically a few days ago. She says the war is all a dreadful 
 mystery to her." 
 
 " I am beginning to understand her better," rei)lie(l Mrs. 
 Waldo musingly, " for to some extent slrj has given me her 
 confidence. If she had been brought up as you have been 
 she would feel as you do, T can see why her uncle and 
 aunts have not won her sympathy, while her cousin's conduct 
 has been well calculated to alienate her. 1 can also under- 
 stand why the negroes on the place have so enlisted her 
 synii)athy. I do not think they have been treated very 
 harshly, but it is too clear that they are regarded simply as 
 property and Mr. Baron has allowed himself to be repre- 
 sented among them by a brutal, coarse- fibered man. If 
 she had been your sister and had witnessed the spirit in 
 which our slaves are governed and cared for she would feel 
 as you do, not vindictive hatred of the North — such feeling 
 is not permissible towards any of the hi man race — but a 
 stern, lofty spirit of independence, such as our fathers had 
 in separating from England." 
 
 '* Well, she is a brave, good girl mother, and has been as 
 kind to me as if I were her brother." 
 
 "Very true, Vincent. She is a remarkably good girl for 
 one brought up as she has been. She has told me much 
 about her past repressed, unhappy life. I hope she may 
 Xisit us some day." 
 
 Meantime, the subject of this conversation sat at her 
 window looking out into the warm, fragrant, starlit night. 
 The words of Maynard, the passionate resentment of her 
 cousin towards the young captain merely added to the heavy 
 burden of experience which had been crowded into the past 
 few weeks. " Oh," she sighed longingly, " if I could only 
 see Allan Scoville ! He is so strong, unselfish and restful. 
 I could tell him every thing. He would know just how 
 weary and depiessed I am, nor would he want me to dg 
 
 1B^ 
 
 it->: 
 
 ill 1 
 
 'ti 
 
 
 1 1 
 
 

 Ill 
 
 W 
 
 lii!l - 
 
 « 
 
 rh 
 
 i 
 
 ' '' ' 
 
 
 ' 
 
 ; H ■ 
 
 
 I 
 
 I i 
 j 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 302 
 
 ".i//.s;v /.o{\ 
 
 what T can't, what I'm not ready for. Oh, what a blessed 
 tiling it would be to have a friend near who wasn't always 
 exacting or expecting or passionately urging something or 
 other. I wouldn't need urging in his case, and would even 
 know his hand woi Id be the first to restrain me for my own 
 good. Where is he now ? Oh, he'd be here if my thoughts 
 could bring him, yet my two lovers would be eager to take 
 his life. Lovers indeed ! Well, it's a strange, tangled up 
 world that I'm learning about." 
 
 Meantime Zany, bursting with her secret, was unable to 
 tell any one, and not yet sure she wished to tell. For one 
 at her point of civilization her motives were ;a little com- 
 plex and sophisticated. In a vicarious way she felt not a 
 little the elation of many a high-born dame that two men 
 were about to fight over her young mistress, regarding it as 
 an undeniable compliment. She was also inclined to indulge 
 the cynical thought that it might save Miss Lou, Scoville, 
 Chunk, indeed all in whom she was interested — further 
 trouble if, as she phrased it, " Dat ar young cap'n gib Mad 
 Whately he way onst too of un. He des natchelly bawn ter 
 mek folks trouble en I reck'n we gic on wid he spook bettah 
 ner hesef." 
 
 Whately would not have relished his supper if he had 
 divined the thoughts of his waitress. As it was, he had little 
 appetite for it and paid his respects chiefly to his uncle's 
 decanter. He felt no need of false courage, but w^as irri- 
 tated and depressed over the general aspect of affairs, and 
 here was an easy v/ay of raising his spirits. By the time he 
 was ready to dispense with Zany's services he was so affected 
 by his potations that his aunt, who had appeared on the 
 scene, hastened his retirement. He told the sergeant of 
 the guard to have him called at day-break and was soon 
 asleep. 
 
 The indomitable houskeeper, Mrs. Baron, kept the girl 
 
Ill 
 
 ULIMPSES or MOODS AXD MINDS. 
 
 303 
 
 lat a blessed 
 vasn't always 
 something or 
 i would even 
 2 for my own 
 ' my thoughts 
 pager to take 
 I, tangled up 
 
 i^as unable to 
 ;ell. For one 
 ^a little com- 
 ;he felt not a 
 that two men 
 sgarding it as 
 fied to indulge 
 Lou, Scoville, 
 ,ted — further 
 p'n gib Mad 
 elly bawn ter 
 spook bettah 
 
 busy until everything was put away and the dining-room in 
 perfect order. Meantime Zany concluded that she had 
 better tell Miss Lou. Her young mistress might blame her 
 severely if she did not, and keeping such a secret over night 
 would also be a species of torture. 
 
 When she was dismissed she watched her opportunity, 
 whisked up to Miss Lou's room, and was glad to fmd the girl 
 still awake. 
 
 "O Miss Lou," she whispered breathlessly, "I des got 
 de orfulest, quarest new^s, en I darsn't kep hit eny longer. 
 Marse cap'n en Mad Whately gwine ter fight 'bout you fo' 
 sun-up." 
 "What!" 
 
 " Dey sut'ny is. Dey gwine ter fight one a noder 'bout 
 you wid 'volvers — fight ter de deth dey said. I yeared 
 dem troo de dine-room winders." 
 " O Zany ! this is horrible ! " 
 
 " Hit mout be wuss. Yo' cousin hot fer hit. He say 
 orful tings ter marse cap'n who didn't gib back a inch en 
 sez, sez he, ' I challing you. Shoose yo' weapons en place 
 ob meetin'.' Dem he berry words. Den yo' cousin shose 
 'volvers en de far side ob de grobe up dar en said * we fight 
 ter de deth.' Deth useter seem orful, Miss Lou, but sech a 
 heap ob mens die dat ef Mad Whately des set on dyin', 
 w'y not let 'im hab he way? Dat orter suit 'im bes'. I 
 reck'n he mek we uns en Marse Scoville en Chunk berry lil 
 trouble arter he dead." 
 
 " Zany, Zany, that's a dreadful way to look at it. You 
 should know better. This meeting must be prevented. 
 Where is my cousin? " 
 
 " He des sound a sleep ez a log," and she made it clear 
 that there would be no use in trying to remonstrate with 
 him. 
 
 " Where's Captain Maynard ? " 
 
 
 n. 
 
 f t 
 
 y^ 
 
 

 ill 
 
 :ii 
 
 304 
 
 ''Auss /.Of." 
 
 f!| 
 
 I 
 
 " Dunnu. Slecpin in he tent too, 'sposc. Hit too late 
 now Miss Lou ter do any ting fo' mawnin'." 
 
 The girl thought deeply a few moments and then mut- 
 tered, "Shame on them both ! " 
 
 " Dar now. Miss Lou, you doan reckermember dey payin' 
 you a big compelment." 
 
 *' I shall tell them to their faces how T regard this outrage 
 rather. Still, for their sakes, as well as my own, I will keep 
 the affair (|uiet if I can. Zany, you must stay with me 
 to-night and at the earliest dawn we must watch them and 
 be on the ground as soon as they are." 
 
 " Berry well. Miss Lou. I lak not'n bettah." 
 
 " Go to sleep, then. I won't sleep to-night." 
 
 i * 
 
^.'*', 
 
 THE Dr^H LISTS VANQUISHED. 
 
 305 
 
 Hit too late 
 
 md then mut- 
 
 chaptp:r XXXI. 
 
 THE DUELISTS VANQUISHED. 
 
 ZANY'S tidings brought the spur of a great necessity to 
 Miss Lou's jaded spirit, and as her waking thoughts 
 dwelt on the proposed encounter a slow, deep anger was 
 kindled in her mind. " What right have they to do such a 
 thing?" she asked herself over and over again. Even more 
 than at the barbarism of the act she revolted at its injustice. 
 '■' I never wronged either of them," she repeated, " and here 
 they are recklessly bent on what would embitter my life. 
 The idea of being fought about ! Two animals couldn't do 
 worse." 
 
 And so the long night was passed in bitter, painful 
 thoughts. With the dawning the bird's innocent songs 
 jarred on her over-wrought senses. She looked out of the 
 window by which she had kept her vigil, inhaled the dewy 
 freshness of the air and then bathed her tired, hot eyes. 
 
 '/ To think that men would disturb the peace of such a 
 morning by their miserable, causeless hate ! Wl'kere is 
 Madison's love for his mother? Why don't they remember 
 the distress and horror that would follow their mad act? 
 Zany, wake up. It is time we were on the watch." 
 
 Even as she spoke there was a heavy step in the outer 
 hall, that of the sergeant coming to wake Lieutenant Whately. 
 Miss Lou glanced from her window in time to see Captain 
 Maynard striding from his tent towards the grove which 
 would screen the combatants from observation. Waiting a 
 s 
 
 
 m 
 
 J;" 
 
 i's; 
 
I , 
 
 " 
 
 ' !«!! 
 
 I 
 
 I I] ' 
 
 li i 
 
 
 r ■■ 
 1 .' < ' 
 
 jl!l 
 
 306 
 
 "J/AV.V /.6><:/. " 
 
 few moments for the sergeant to retire she and /any slipped 
 down and out before Whately left his room. They reached 
 the grove from the ])ack entrance of the house, and conceal- 
 ing themselves in some copse-wood, watched for Whately's 
 coming. Me soon appearetl, walking rapidly as if fearing 
 to be behind time. I le was in fact some moments late, 
 having stopi)e(.l to advise Perkins of the affair on hand. 
 He passed so near his cousin's leafy screen that she could 
 look into his (lusiied, troubled f^ice and ("ould hear him 
 mutter, "Curse it all ! I'm forever getting into scrapes." 
 
 For the first time since Zany's news, pity overcame her 
 anger and she murmured, " Poor si)oiled boy ! It's well 
 for you and your motiier that Pm here." 
 
 Swiftly she followed him through the slill dusky grove, 
 keeping the boles of trees between herself and his form. 
 Beyond the grove ^\as an oi)en grassy field, facing the east, 
 where the light was distinct. Clearly outlined against the 
 rose-tuited horizon was the figure of Maynard standing with 
 his arms folded and his back towards them, apparently losl 
 in deep thought. 
 
 " Well sir," said AVhately sternly, '• I suppose I should ask 
 your pardon tor keeping you waiting." 
 
 " I reckon there's plenty of time for the purpose of 
 our meeting," replied Maynard coolly. *' Since you are 
 the challenged party and we have no seconds, arrange the 
 matter- to suit yourself." 
 
 Whately was about to pace off the ground when a girl's 
 voice rang out clearly, " Stop that ! " 
 
 " Miss Baron ! " cried Maynard, taking off his hat. 
 
 Whately threw back his head proudly. This was better 
 than he had dreamed, for now his cousin would be com- 
 pelled to recognize his high and haughty spirit. A glance 
 at the girl's pale, stern face as she stepped out between them 
 was not altogether reassuring. She glanced coldly from one 
 
t^ -^ 
 
 tTT^'-l 
 
 THE DUFJ.ISTS VANi^VLSII ElK 
 
 307 
 
 )se 1 should ask 
 
 lid when a girl's 
 
 to the other for a moment and then said firmly, " I have 
 something to say ajjout this affair." 
 
 "Pardon me, Miss Baron," Maynard ])egan, bowing, " if 
 I am compelled to disabuse your mind. This is a little 
 matter between Lieutenant W'hately and myself. I am 
 surprised beyond measure that he has invited you 10 be 
 present." 
 
 "That's, a lie," thundered Wh^tely, drawing his weai)on 
 from his belt. 
 
 "Stoj), both of you," cried the girl. "Captain Maynard, 
 my cousin has not invited me. \'our [)urpose of meeting 
 was discovered by accident and revealed to me late last 
 night — too late for me to do any thing then. All the long 
 night I have sat at my window that I might be in time to 
 keep you from disgracing yourselves and me." 
 
 " Great heavens ! Miss IJaron, you do me injustice," 
 cried Maynard. " I have been insulted. I never thought 
 of wronging you. Perish such a thought ! " 
 
 " Fvvidently neither of you has thought of me, nor cared 
 for me or others. Yourselves, your own vindictive feelings 
 have engrossed you wholly, yet I know Fm the innocent 
 cause of this brutal encounter, and the world would know 
 nie to be the cause whether it believed me innocent or not. 
 I tell you plainly that if you fight I shall brand you both 
 unworthy the name" of gentlemen and I shall proclaim to all 
 your outrage to me." 
 
 "Outrage to you, Miss Baron?" said Maynard, with a 
 bitter, incredulous laugh. 
 
 *'Yes," she replied, turning upon him fiercely. "What 
 can you think of me when you fight about me like a wild 
 beast?" 
 
 " I am prepared to fight Lieutenant Whately on entirely 
 different grounds," he replied, his face flushing hotly at her 
 words. 
 
 M 
 
 4\^ 
 
5v^S 
 
 ".V/AV /,»/.'• 
 
 liiii 
 
 I; 
 
 " \"»M\ r;MUUM <'»> it. sit. I \VO\lKI know. :\\u\ so \VO\||(| .»||, 
 \\\,\\ I w.is \\\c r.uis«\ W l\.\l tiiiht. Ml. h.wr nom Io nwlMlliM 
 >\\\ lilt', to till nn (l.iNs iinil nivihis with hotioi ' I iuvvm 
 \vv\M\j;v'(l \ou." 
 
 " \s\\[, Nhss H.u»Mi. n\ .\11 iV^rs <\\vh en* otinlcrs h.wi' Ixi n 
 »"oniiuoi\ iMUMii^h \\luM\ .\ \\\A\\ \K'iV\\c\\ ,\\\\y\v |Mo\*M,Uion, 
 .\s 1 h,\\v\" 
 
 S> uwu 
 
 h (1 
 
 \C WOVsi' 
 
 \o\ tl 
 
 U' 
 
 !l'S 
 
 t)\ 
 
 on. I N.(\ ih.it \ou 
 
 ho{\\ \\c\c .\\\m\ to » on\n\n .\ sv'llisl\. row^nlh. ui\nr>nl\ .n t 
 \\\M wonUl h.no \kc\\ .in »>uti.i»;i' in its » nirlt\ to .m inno 
 lont i\\\\. \o wIuMn \on h.ul lu-rn nukinj; l.ilso prolrssions 
 
 ot K 
 
 .u» 
 
 \v>\v In thr (\od who m.ulr nu\ th.il''. not tnu\ Miss 
 
 rui\>t\. 
 
 ^ iHism 1 on. \ou .no 
 
 Ih'shI 
 
 o xouisrll. (110(1 
 
 Wli.it 
 
 c\\ 
 
 Miss H;H\>n.'" s.iid M;i\n,Mvl. ((Miiniii t(> hor sulo atul 
 
 ini; with i;tv;\t o;\rnosii\oss. 
 
 1 
 
 i'.xw onilmo .nu « 
 
 li:i 
 
 ii;o 
 
 n ' nn 
 
 bst. N 
 
 v> ni 
 
 ,in o\oi tlo(l.uo(l trnor lovo 
 
 SjHWk 
 
 bolt 01 th.i 
 ih.m I to Nvui." 
 
 *' 1 ('.in tv'll \(Mi o\ .1 m.m \vh(> h.is ilool.uod linor lovo," 
 sho rophod. K>(>kin!; liim sto.nhh in tlu^ inos. 
 
 *• \\lu> in r.od's n.nno ,^ " ho .iskod s;i\.ii;oIv. 
 
 '* ./vv i\);in who thonj;lU n\oio ot tho uirl than ol himsoll".'' 
 sho .insworod with jwssionato j\ithi>s in hor tonos. " .mv man 
 \vhv> oonsidorod l\or holoio hi^ own rookloss. nni;ovi'rnal)lo 
 t"oohn<;s. who wvHiul s.uo hor ho.nt tVvun sorrow rathor tlian 
 uratitV his ani:or. Anv in.ni who asks. Wli.it is host tor thi> 
 woman I lo\o? instoa^l i^t" NNh.u's mv Immor? what will 
 ploaso mo? Supposo vvmi botl^ had oarriod out yonr savai;o 
 
 imiMil 
 
 SOS, 
 
 anc 
 
 1 I 
 
 IV on 
 
 tliis uromul. womulod or tload. wliat 
 
 wvViiUl bo said at tho honso thiMo about mo? What would 
 bo \o\n- mothor's tato. M.ulisoi.. th.it you mij^lu gratify a 
 oausoloss spito? Havo yv>u no homo. Taptain Maynaril. no 
 kindrod wlio would alwavs ourso mv name? If vou had 
 
nih iHhiisrs I r\i •r/.s//A7'. 
 
 .V'» 
 
 I so \\o\iM all. 
 
 \\\ \\\ »M\\l>Ut»'t 
 \0\ * 1 lU'WM' 
 
 {'\'. \\,\\ I' l>»"t n 
 
 |\ , \\i\>u,»nlv M \ 
 \\\ \o AW inno 
 
 \\o\ tvur. ^li^s 
 u«,l Wh.itflv. 
 \\\c Au\ « i\iu>;f 
 
 han of hinisiMl. 
 luios. " any man 
 MMgovornabK' 
 
 lH>st for thr 
 
 Init vmn- savage' 
 
 I? What wHUiUl 
 nughl gratify a 
 in Maynard. tio 
 I? If vou had 
 
 tlicti lilvt' llir lMa\<' nii'M will) lie iti \<)|it|ri |<i.i\i . \iiui 
 liuMul'« \MMilil r\ri '.immIv \tiiii nann' |iinu<ll\ , l>iil r\ti) |, 
 all ii>c\|>»i i> i\( III. Know il\r wmM will i uiMirJi In Im^ nnlv 
 ton '.inr, ll\r\ woiilil Itm); lluii In iil. .iml '.,i\ noii ||iiii|.' 
 aw IN NOMi lili" loi ,1 III 11 jjrs'i jmiI who w,i, ,iniii iiir, In i iilf 
 at \o\ii rvpcii.r. I'"ii;hl il \oii will. Iml il \ mi ilo, I |i|ri||'c 
 \ou iiiN wool dial I will iii'M'i \mIIiii|;I\ look ii|'oii ( idiri 
 ot \oii af.am. In iii); oi dr.ul ' " 
 
 She was .d»oiil III tiiiii .iw,i\ wluii \l,i\ii. nd in .Ind In Inir 
 hri r\i lainiini;. "Mis'- i'laion. I Itrr. \iini |i,iidiiii. I a .k 
 \oui li>i);i\ nu'ss, I iicmi '.,iu dir. ail in iIh' li|',hl \oii 
 phrc il." 
 
 " I'luMc I onsm." addi d W lialch willi a mmI o| .himr 
 l!ii I'd laiii'.h. "I'm haiifM'd il \oii airii'l in the nr.hl and I 
 111 ihc wiong again. A". \i>ii '.a\. Ihc hnllri ih.il killnl im' 
 
 iiiighl. i\^* worse l»v inolhn. and 
 
 hniild liaM- lhnil|>lll nl 
 
 ihal. As fill \'oii. wi- didii'l lliink Noii'd look ;il il ihis w,i\. 
 riu'ic's plentv ol girls who'd llniik il a hi); Iralhci in linn 
 I aps lo have men light ahonl 'cm." 
 
 " 1 ran'l liclicvc il." 
 
 " It's tnu", lu'verthclcss," said Maynard <Mrn(*stly. " NN'lial 
 ( an I do lo riglil invscif in your ••ycs'r'" 
 
 "Il Mill wish lo 111" nun whose hiriii|shi|i I i .ni value, 
 sli.ike h.inds and use yoiii wea|)ons loi your < oimlry. If 
 \oii tinlv eare lot \\\\ good o|iinioii. Ioiim'I yoiirselve:< long 
 enough to find out wh.il lAuw please ine and nol rush lie.id- 
 long into action I delesl. ( "oiisidcr the rights, leelings and 
 liappiiu'ss of others." 
 
 "Well Whalely. what do yon say?" asked Maynard with 
 a grim langh. " I am ri-ady to obey Miss I'aroii as I would 
 my superior ofiic cr," and he held onl his hand. 
 
 Whately took it with an answering laugh, saying, "There's 
 nolhing else left us to do. Alter her words, we (onld no 
 nunc light each other than shoot her," 
 
if ) 
 
 , f 
 
 Jiii.: 
 
 (ill m 
 
 ! I 
 
 
 I 'i I I I I 
 
 310 
 
 '*M/SS I. OIL'' 
 
 " Thank yon. I — I — Zany," she faltered, turning deathly 
 white. She would have fallen had not her cousin sprung to 
 her aid, sui)[)orting her to a seat on a moss-grown log lying 
 near. 
 
 For a few moments the long strain and reacti(jn proved 
 too much for her, and she sat, pale and i)anting, her head 
 resting against Zany, who had rushed from her covert. The 
 yoimg men were overwhelmed with compunction and alarm, 
 hut she retained and silenced them hy a gesture. '• I'll be 
 — better — in a moment," she gasped. 
 
 It proved but a ])artial giving way of her nervous force. 
 In a few moments she added, " Please go back to the house 
 by different ways. No one need know any thing about this. 
 No, don't call any one. I'll get better faster if left with 
 Zany. I beg you do as I ask and then my mind will be at 
 rest." 
 
 "'J'here, Miss Baron," said the remorseful Maynard, " I 
 pledge you my word I'll never fight a duel. I can prove 
 my courage sufficiently against the enemy." 
 
 She smiled, held out her hand, which he carried to his 
 lips and reluctantly departed. 
 
 "See here, Cousin Lou," said Whately impulsively, "I'm 
 going to give you an honest, cousinly kiss. I'm not so 
 feather-headed as not to know you've got us both out of a 
 devil of a scrape." 
 
 He suited the action to his words, and strode off in time 
 to intercept Perkins, who had the scent of a vulture for a 
 battle. " We have arranged the affair for the present," said 
 the young officer curtly, " and won't need any graves to-day, 
 Keep mum about this." 
 
 " I'll keep my mouth close enough till I kin begin ter bite 
 on my own account," muttered the overseer as he sullenly 
 followed. 
 
HAD T/D/XaS. 
 
 3n 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 SAD TIDINGS. 
 
 I 
 
 LC carried to his 
 
 THAT morning Miss Lou stood on the veranda and 
 l)ade farewell, one after another, to those with whom 
 she had been associated so strangely and imexpectetUy. 
 There was an unwonted huskiness in Dr. Borden's voice, 
 and Ackley, usually so grim and prompt, held the girl's 
 hand lingeringly as he tried to made a joke about her 
 defying him and the whole Confederacy, It was a dismal 
 failure. Regarding him with her weary eyes, she said, — 
 
 " Doctor, you had wit enough and heart enough to under- 
 stand and subdue me. Haven't I minded you since?" 
 . " I'm a litde afraid you'd still get the upper hand if you 
 often looked at me as you do now. I shall find out, how- 
 ever, if you will obey one more order. Miss Baron, you 
 jnusf rest. Your pulse indicates unusual exhaustion. You 
 have tried to do too much, and I expect those young men 
 have been making such fierce and counter claims that you 
 are all worn out. Ah, if I had been only twenty ycc^rs 
 younger I would have won you l)y a regular course of 
 scientific love-making." 
 
 " I don't know any thing about science and wouldn't 
 understand you. So it is better as it is, for I do understand 
 what a good, kind friend you've been. You knew all the 
 while that I was little more than an ignorant child, yet your 
 courtesy was so fine that you treated me like a woman. I 
 
 r 
 
 u 
 U 
 
 
nil 
 
 312 
 
 M/SS LOU.'* 
 
 W' 
 
 If! 
 
 %\m 
 
 \^ 
 
 i 
 
 'i 
 
 1^: 
 
 hope we shall meet again in brighter days. Yes, I will obey 
 you, for I feel the need of rest." 
 
 "I shall com(. again and take my chances," said Maynard 
 in parting. 
 
 Mercurial Whately, forgetting his various troubles and 
 experiences in the excitement of change and return to 
 active duty, bade her a rather boisterous and good-hearted 
 farewell. His mind was completely relieved as to Maynard 
 and he did not dream of Scoville as a serious rival. 
 
 " It's only a question of time," he thought, " and at 
 present mother can do the courting better -than I can. 
 When I return Lou will be so desperately bored by her 
 stupid life here as to be ready for any change." 
 
 The remaining patients looked at her and Mrs. Whately 
 very wistfully and gratefully, speaking reluctant adieus. 
 When all were gone the girl, feeling that she had reached 
 the limit of endurance, went to her room and slept till 
 evening. It was the sleep of exhaustion, so heavy that she 
 came down to a late supper weak and languid. But youth 
 is elastic, the future full of infinite possibilities. Scoville's 
 words haunted her like sweet refrains of music. No matter 
 how weary, perplexed and sad she was, the certainty of 
 her place in his thoughts and heart sustained her and was 
 like a long line of light in the west, indicating a clearing 
 storm. " He ^uill come again," she often whispered to 
 herself; " he said he would if he had to come on crutches. 
 Oh, he docs love me. He gave me his love that night 
 direct, warm from his heart, because he couldn't help 
 hipiself. He thougni he loved me before — when, by the 
 run, he told me of it so (juietly, so free from all exaction 
 and demands ; but I didn't feel it. It merely seemed like 
 In-ight sunshine of kindness and good-will, very sweet and 
 satisfying then. But when we were parting, when his tones 
 trembled so, when overcome, he lost restraint and snatched 
 
 <^X 
 
SAD TIDINGS. 
 
 313 
 
 ,, I will obey 
 
 aid Maynard 
 
 Toubles and 
 id return to 
 ^ood-hearted 
 to Maynard 
 val. 
 
 ;ht, " and at 
 •than I can. 
 (orcd bv her 
 
 IS. 
 
 me to his heart, — then I learned that /, too had a 
 heart." 
 
 If she had been given time this new heart-life, with 
 thoughts and hopes springing from it like flowers, would 
 have restored her elasticity. Scoville's manly visage, his 
 eyes, so of. a mirthful, always kind, would have become 
 so real to her fancy that the pallid, drawn features of the 
 suffering, the dying and the dead, would have faded from 
 her memory. So would have faded also the various aspects 
 of passion from which she had shrunk, frightened by its hot 
 breath. Her days would have been filled with the beautiful, 
 innocent dreams of a young girl's first love so inspired as 
 to cast out fear. 
 
 But the ruthless Moloch of war could not permit any 
 thing so ideal, so heavenly, as this. 
 
 Mrs. Waldo came down from the apartment to which her 
 son had been removed and joined the girl on the veranda. 
 '* Ah ! " she exclaimed, " I have taken solid comfort all day 
 in the thought that you were sleeping, and now you are 
 still resting. I want to see the color in your cheeks again, 
 and the tired look all gone from your eyes before we go." 
 
 " You don't know how I dread to have you go," replied 
 ?>liss Lou. " From the first your son did more for me 
 than I could do for him. The smile w^ith which he always 
 greeted me made me feel that nothing could happen beyond 
 remedy, and so much that was terrible was happening." 
 
 " Well, my child, that's the faith I am trying to cherish 
 myself and teach my boy. It is impossible for you to know 
 what a black gulf opened at my feet when my noble husband 
 was killed early in the war. Such things, happily, are known 
 only by experience and many escape. Then our cause 
 demanded my only son. I face death with him in every 
 battle, every danger. He takes risks without a thought of 
 fear and I dare not let him know the agony of my fear. 
 
 Ill 
 If 
 

 mi 
 
 lii 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 mi 
 
 lii 
 
 ifi! '? 
 
 1;'" 
 I 
 
 i 1 
 
 11^. 
 
 3H 
 
 "M/SS- LOU.'' 
 
 \'ct in my widowhood, in the sore i)rcssure of rare and 
 difficulty in managing n large i)lantation in these times, I 
 have found my faith in God's love ade<iuate to my need. 
 I should still find it so if I lost my boy. I could not cscaj^e 
 the suffering, but I would not sorrow as without hope," 
 
 " How much I would give for the certainty of such a 
 faith I " said Miss T.ou sadly. ''Sometimes, since C'ai)tain 
 Hanfield died, I think I feel it. And tin a — oh, I don't 
 know. Things might hajipen which 1 couldn't meet in your 
 spirit. If 1 had been ( ompelled to marry my cousin 1 feel 
 that I .should have become hard, bitter and reckless." 
 
 " You i)Oor, dear little girl ! Well, you were not com})elle(l 
 to '.iiarry him. Don't you see? \\'c are saved from som^,' 
 things and given strength to bear what does liappen. Don't 
 you worry about yourself, my dear. Just look uji" and trust. 
 Hapjiily, the sun of (rod's love shines on just the same. 
 unaffected by the passing clouds of our feelings and e.\])e- 
 riences. He sees the end and knows all about the peacefi:!. 
 happy eternity before us. You dear, worn-out little cliild ! 
 His love is ever about you like my arms at this moment." 
 and the old lady drew the girl to her in an impulse (A 
 motherly tenderness. 
 
 **() Mrs. Waldo, you make me feel what it is to have no 
 mother," sobbed Miss Lou. 
 
 '• Well, my dear, that's your heavy cross. Sooner or later, 
 in soh J tbrm, a cross burdens every human soul, too often 
 manv crosses. All I ask of vou is not to try to bear them 
 alone. See how faith chang'^d every thing for Captain 
 Hanfield in his extremity. He is now in the better home, 
 waiting for liis dear ones." 
 
 " I can never forget what faitli has done for you and yo;ir 
 son, Mrs. \\'aUlo. Surgeon Acklev said that vour son"> 
 absolute quiet and cheerfulness of mind during the tir>t 
 critical davs saved his life." 
 
'wMRSSP^v' 
 
 SAD TrDLvas. 
 
 3'5 
 
 e of rare aiul 
 
 tlK'SC times, 1 
 e to my need. 
 ^nUl not escape 
 )ut hope." 
 linty of such a 
 ,, since Captain 
 i^___oh, T don't 
 n't meet in yovn- 
 ny cousin 1 feci 
 reckless." 
 re not compelled 
 aved from some 
 
 happen. Don't 
 )ok uf) and tnisl. 
 ^ just the same, 
 [clings and expc- 
 :ont the peaceful. 
 
 out litde child '. 
 
 t this moment," 
 an impulse ot 
 
 it is to have no 
 
 Sooner or later, 
 li soul, too often 
 Itry to bear them 
 ling for Captain 
 Ithe better home. 
 
 |for you and yor.r 
 that your sou"> 
 chn-in;^; the nr-t 
 
 " N't's, I know that," Mrs. Waldo re])lied with her low, 
 :,\v(it .augh. " l'"aitii is often more useful in helping us to 
 li\e than in prej)aring us to die. It saved my life, too, I'm 
 sure, after my husband died. I had no right to die then, 
 Ibr Vincent and, ftir more, my daughters, still needed me." 
 
 For a time they sat on the piazza steps in silence, the old 
 lady keeping her arm caressingly about the girl, whose head 
 drooped on the motherly bosom overflowing with sympathy. 
 Only the semi-troj)ica1 sounds of night broke the stillness. 
 The darkness was relieved by occasional (lashes along the 
 horizon from a distant thunder-shower. Miss Lou thought, 
 " Have I ever known a peace so deep and sweet as this? " 
 
 There was a hasty, yet stealthy step along the hall to tlie 
 door, yet the girl had no presentiment of evil. The warm, 
 brooding, fragrant darkness of the night was not more 
 \nidisturbed than her mind. 
 
 "Miss Lou," said ^any in a loud whisper. 
 
 What a shock came with that brief utterance ! A flash 
 of lightning diiect from the sky could not have produced 
 such sudden dread and presentiment of trouble. Truly, a 
 woman listens more with her heart than her ears, and even 
 in Zany's whisper there was detected a note of tragedy. 
 
 After an instant Miss Lou faltered, "What is it, z'^any?" 
 
 " Ef you gwine ter yo' room soon I des he'p you undress." 
 
 How well the girl knew that the faithful slave meant othi r 
 and less prosaic help ! She rose at once, kissed Mrs. Waldo 
 good-night and excused herself. When Zany had lighted 
 the candle her scared, troubled face revealed at once that 
 she had tidings of dire import. 
 
 Miss Lou seized the girl with a grip which hurt her arm, 
 demanding, "Have you heard any thing .nbout — about 
 Lieutenant Scoville?" 
 
 " Now, Miss Lou, you gotter be brabe en not look at me 
 dat away. Kaze ef you does, w'at I gwine ter do? I 
 kyant stan' it nohow." 
 
 Hi 
 
 •, * 
 
 'M 
 
 ■i 
 
I : 
 
 :\. -'i 
 
 f ,\ I 
 
 If ' 
 
 il 
 
 ■ i 
 
 
 ■ I' \i ! 
 
 316 
 
 "/1//.V.V L0( 
 
 T " 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " Miss Lou gasped, "wait a moment, not yet 
 — wait. I must get breath. I know, I know what's coming. 
 Chunk is back and — and — O God, I can't bear it, I cannot, 
 I cannot ! " 
 
 *' Dar now. Miss Lou, des Hs'n. P'raps tain ez bad ez 
 yc a tink. P'raps w'en Chunk 'splain all you see tain 
 ez bad. Hi ! Miss Lou, you musn't took on so," for the 
 girl wa§ wringing her hands and rocking back and forth in 
 agony. *' Folks s'picion dat Chunk yere en dat ud be de 
 eend ob him, sho. He ain' seen Marse Scoville daid sho. 
 He on'y see 'im fall. Chunk wanter see you en he mighty 
 skeery 'bout hit, kaze' ef Perkins get on he track he done 
 fer. He ain' see he granny yit en he darsn't come dar twel 
 hit late. He larn ter toot lak a squinch-owl frum Marse 
 Scoville en he tole me dat when he come agin he toot. I 
 nigh on run my legs off follerin' up tootin's o' nights, fer 
 dey wuz on'y pesky squinch-owls arter all. Dis eb'nin' I year 
 a toot dat flutter my heart big en I knowed 'twuzn't no 
 squinch-owl dis time, sho," and so Zany ran on in her canny 
 shrewdness, for she perceived she was gaining Miss Lou's 
 attention and giving time for recovery from the blow. 
 
 Miss Lou had a despairing conviction that Chunk would 
 not have returned alone unless his master was dead, but her 
 mind quickly seized upon the element of uncertainty and 
 she was eager to see the negro. 
 
 **' We mas' wait, we sut'ny mus', twel Chunk kin creep ter 
 he granny's cabin." 
 
 " I can't wait. Zany. It wouldn't be best, either for me 
 or Chunk. It's not very late yet, and \ could visit Aun' 
 Jinkey without exciting remark if you go with me. It's too 
 dark for Chunk to be seen and I'd protect him with my life. 
 I must get better ground for hope or my heart will break. 
 Pretend I wish a glass of water and see if we can't slip out 
 
 now. 
 
-w» K« » #ir - 
 
 SAD TIDINGS. 
 
 317 
 
 loment, not yet 
 ' what's coming. 
 )ear it, I cannot, 
 
 tain ez bad ez 
 
 1 you see tain 
 on so," for the 
 ck and forth in 
 11 dat ud be de 
 :oville daid sho. 
 u en he mighty 
 
 2 track he done 
 't come dar twel 
 -owl frum Marse 
 agin he toot. I 
 n's o' nights, fer 
 Dis eb'nin' I year 
 )wed 'twuzn't no 
 
 on in her canny 
 ning Miss Lou's 
 
 the blow. 
 |iat Chunk would 
 
 as dead, but her 
 
 uncertainty and 
 
 ink kin creep ter 
 
 1st, either for me 
 J could visit Aun' 
 lith me. It's too 
 lim with my life- 
 J heart will break. 
 Ive can't slip out 
 
 This Zany did, discovering that Mrs. Baron was with her 
 husband in his office and that Mrs. Waldo had returned to 
 her son's room. 
 
 In a few moments Miss Lou was sitting by Aun' Jinkey 
 and tremblingly telling her fears. Meanwhile Zany scouted 
 around to insure immunity from observation. 
 
 "You po', po' chile !" groaned Aun' Jinkey. "I wuz a 
 hopin' dat now you hab a time ob peace en quietness, en 
 you des gwine ter be 'spended 'twix hebin en yearth." 
 
 " Oh, I fear he's dead, my heart tells me he's dead O 
 mammy, mammy, how can God be so cruel? I don't know 
 who caused this war or who's to blame, but I feel now as 
 if I could torture them." 
 
 " I'se feared dat ain' de right speret, honey." 
 
 " Kow can one have the right spirit when mocked by 
 such a hope as I've lid' ? It needn't have happened. O 
 Mrs. Waldo, I could tell you now I'm no Christian at all. 
 I say it needn't have happened. And then think how 
 Uncle Lusthah prayed ! " 
 
 "Chunk down dar by de run, Miss Lou," whispered Zany. 
 " I lis'n wid all my years en eyes." 
 
 " Miss Lou, I'se yere in de shadder ob dis bush," Chunk 
 called softly. 
 
 "Tell me everything." \ 
 
 " Darsn't twel I feels mo' safe, Miss Lou. Kin on'y say 
 now Marse Scoville des dote on you en he ax questions 
 'bout you sence you lil gyurl. Hun'erds ob times he say, 
 ' Chunk, we go back some day, cho ! ' But he do he duty 
 brabe. I go wid 'im ev'ywhar en bust, des on de aige ob 
 night, he wuz ridin' long wid 'bout twenty ob he men en 
 dis ting happen. We didn't tink any Rebs roun' en I'd 
 been kep' back tryin* ter git a chicken fer mars'r's supper. 
 Ez I riz a hill, ridin' right sm.art I see our folks goin' easy 
 en car'less inter a woods. I seed 'em all ez plain ez eber 
 
 IM 
 
 
 I'm 
 • 
 
 .iil 
 
 ^fi;; 
 
 : 'I 
 
 
 
I'i 
 
 ill 
 
 m 
 
 ilul 
 
 ilMI'! 
 
 1 ■ ;i ii li. I 
 
 \H ^*' 
 
 ii! 
 
 3i« 
 
 *M/AS;v /.OC/." 
 
 see anybody, en Marse Scoville ride at de haid. Sudden 
 dere was flash, flash, bang, bang, all troo de woods. Marse 
 SroviUe fell right off he hoss, he sut'ny did. Den lot^; ob 
 Joiinnies run in de road fore en hind our mens. I see dere 
 wuz no chaince fer me ter do any t'ng b'^t git away en lil 
 chaince fer dat, fer two Rebs on horses come tarin' arter 
 me. Ef hit hadn't come dark sudden en my hoss wuzn't a 
 flyer I'se been cotched sho. 'Fo' de l.awd. Miss Lou, dat 
 all I know." 
 
 " He's dead," said the girl in a hoarse whisper. 
 
 " I orful feared he is, Miss Lou," assented the matter-of- 
 fact Chunk. " De Rebs so neah w'en dey fiah, en Marse 
 Scoville sut'ny did go off he hoss sudden. I been a week 
 gittin' yere en I neber git yere ef dt cullud people didn't 
 he'p me long nights." 
 
 The girl stood silent and mot'onless. Suddenly Zany 
 grasped her hand and whispered, " I yeared steps. Come 
 ter de cabin. Be off, Chunk." 
 
 They had scarcely reached Aun' Jinkey's door before a 
 shadow approached and the harsh voice of Perkins asked, 
 "What's goin' on yere?" 
 
 " My young mistis des seein' her mammy 'bout her clos," 
 replied the quick-witted Zany. 
 
 " I thought I yeared voices down by the run." 
 
 " Reck'n you bettah go see," said Zany in rather high tones. 
 
 '■What the dev — what makes yer speak so loud? a 
 warnin'?" 
 
 " Tain' my place ter pass wuds wid you, Marse Perkins. 
 Dem I Serbs doan fin' fault." 
 
 " I reckon Mr. Baron'll do mo'n find fault 'fore long. I 
 be ter say right yere en now I've got my orders 'bout that 
 nigger Chunk. Nobody kin save 'im ef caught. You've 
 been followed before in your night-cruisin' en you're lookin' 
 fer some one. Ef there's trouble, Miss Baron kyant say I 
 
SAD TlDJXaS. 
 
 319 
 
 'bout herclos,' 
 
 [, Marse Perkins. 
 
 didn't give vvarnin'. Now tliat tlic sogers is gone I'm iicld 
 'sponsible fer \^iat goes on," and he stalked away. 
 
 He did not wish to come into an open collision with 
 Miss Lou again if he could hel[) it, — not at least while the 
 Waldos remained. He had concluded that by a warning he 
 might prevent trouble, his self-interest inclining him to be 
 conservative. Confederate scrip had so lost its purchasing 
 power that in its stead he had recenUy bargained with Mr. 
 Haron for a share iu the crops. Thus it hai)|)ened that the 
 (juestion of making a croj) was uppermost in his mind. 
 Until this object was secured he feared to array tlie girl 
 openly against him, since her influence might be essential in 
 controlling the negroes. If policy could keep them at work, 
 well 'and good; if the harshest measures seemed best to him 
 lie was ready to employ them. 
 
 Xot only was he puzzled, but Zany also and Aun' Jinkey 
 were sore perplexed at Miss Lou'.-5 siL-ncc. She had stood 
 motionless and unheeding through the colloquy with the 
 overseer, and now remainetl equally deaf and unresponsive 
 to the homely expressions of sympatiiy and encouragement 
 jf the two women. They could not see her fece, but 
 • [uickly felt the dread which any thing abnormal inspires in 
 the simple-minded. Prone to wild abandon in the expres- 
 sion of their own strong emotions, the silent, motionless 
 figure of the young girl caused a deeper apprehension than 
 tile most extravagant evidenc .s of grief. 
 
 " Aun' Jirkey," whispered Zany, " you mus' des he'p me 
 git her to her room." 
 
 She went with them without word or sign. Their alarm 
 was deepened when they saw her deathly pale and almost 
 rigid features by the light of her candle. 
 
 *' Miss Lou, honey, speak ter yo' ole mammy. You 
 broke my heart w'en you look dat away." 
 
 " I tell you he's dead," whispered the girl. 
 
 ( 
 
 t|: 
 
 m 
 

 ijll 
 
 ■1 * 
 
 IWifii 
 
 ; f ' 
 
 -; I 
 
 ■M 
 
 n» 
 
 'I 
 
 m 
 
 320 
 
 "M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 " Dis ter'ble," groaned the old woman. " ' Fo' de Lawd I 
 dunno w'at er do." 
 
 Zany felt instinctively that the girl was beyond their 
 simple ministrations and she was desperately afraid that if 
 Mrs. Baron came Chunk's presence would be revealed 
 by words spoken unconsciously. She and Ann' Jinkey 
 promptly agreed that Mrs. Waldo was their only hope and 
 Zany flew to summon her. 
 
 Fortunately the lady had not retired and she came at 
 once. '' Louise, Miss Baron, what is the matter?" she 
 asked in strong solicitude. 
 
 " I tell you, he's dead," again whispered the girl, looking 
 as if a scene of horror were before her eyes. " The Rebs 
 were so near when they fired, and he fell off his horse 
 sudden. Ch — " 
 
 Quick as light Zany's hand was over the girl's mouth. 
 The scared face and trembling form of the young negress 
 did not escape Mrs. Waldo's quick eye. 
 
 "Zany, what are you concealing?" she asked sternly. 
 " What does all this mean? " 
 
 " Dar 3w, misus," answered Aun' Jinkey with a certain 
 simple dignity, " we mus' dfes trus you. I'se yeared you a 
 lubin' serbent ob de Lawd. Ef you is, you ain' gwine ter 
 bring mis'ry on mis'ry. We mus' brung Miss Lou roun' 
 sudden 'fo' ole miss comes. He'p us git young mistis 
 sens'ble en I tell you eberyting I kin. Dere ain' not'n bade 
 'bout dis honey lam' ob mine." 
 
 They undressed the girl as if she wer? a helpless child 
 and put her to bed, and then Zany went down stairs to keej) 
 Mrs. Baron out of the way if possible, at the same time 
 listening intently for any signs of trouble to Chunk. 
 
 Miss Lou's over-taxed mind had given way, or rather was 
 enchained by a spell of horror to the scenes presented all 
 too vividly in Chunk's bald statement. Her nervous force 
 
 Wk' 
 
m 
 
 SAD TfD/A'GS. 
 
 321 
 
 " ' Fo' de Lawd [ 
 
 d die girl, looking 
 
 jyes. "The Rebs 
 
 fell off his horse 
 
 had been too enfeebled and exhausted to endure tlic shoe k 
 of an impression so tremendous in its tragic reality that her 
 fiiculties had no power to go beyond it. Ciiunk's words 
 had brought her to a darkening forest and her d(*ad lover, 
 and there she staid. 
 
 Seeing how imconscious she was Aun' Jinkey whispered 
 enough in explanation to enable Mrs. Waldo to compre- 
 hend the girl's condition. 
 
 " We must make her sleep," said the 1. derisively, and 
 under her wise ministrations the stricken girl soon looked 
 almost as if she were dead. Having kindly reassured and 
 dismissed Aun' Jinkey, Mrs. Waldo watched Miss Lou as 
 she would have kept vigil with one of her own daughters. 
 
 the asked sternly. 
 
 
 n 
 
 
f" 
 
 ill? 
 
 322 
 
 'AIJS^ LOU." 
 
 ■'1 
 
 1 
 
 
 i 
 
 .1 1 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 
 ' I. 
 1 
 
 i' 
 t-. 
 
 I 
 
 •1 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 CHAITER XXXIII. 
 
 CONSPIRATORS. 
 
 PERKINS was very ill at ease that night, from a haunting 
 suspicion that Chunk had returned. " Pesky nigger'll 
 have a revolver, too, most likely, en be crazy ter use it ! 
 Haint l)een 'mong them cussed Yanks fernothiu' ! " 'I'here 
 was therefore litde disposition for a night hunt after one 
 who knew every inch of the region besides being as stealthy 
 and agile as a cat. The blow from which his head still 
 ached had a warning significance. Coarse, ignorant and 
 superstitious, he was an easy victim to the tormenting fears 
 of his own bad conscience. The graves by the run and the 
 extemporized cemetery farther away had even greater ter- 
 rors for him than for Aun' Jinkey. Even his whiskey jug 
 could not inspire sufficient courage to drive him at night 
 far from his own door. Though both hating and desj^ising 
 Whately, yet the absence of the young officer and his force 
 was now deeply regretted, as they had lent a sense of security 
 and maintained the old order of existing authority. Now 
 he was thrown chiefly on his own responsibility, for Mr. 
 Baron was broken and enfeebled by what he had passed 
 through. Avarice spurned Perkins to carry tlirough the 
 crops in which he had an interest, while his hope of revenge 
 on Chunk, Scoville and Miss Lou also tended to keep him 
 at a post which he foresaw would be one of difficulty and 
 danger. He had no doubt that the Union officer and his 
 freedman would return as soon as they could, and for the 
 
wmwh 
 
 CONSPIKA TORS, 
 
 3^3 
 
 Dm a haunting 
 I'esky nigger'il 
 ,zy ter use it ! 
 ^in' ! " 'I'here 
 unit after one 
 ;ing as stealthy 
 his liead still 
 ignorant and 
 rmenling fears 
 le run and the 
 n greater ter- 
 is whiskey jug 
 him at night 
 and despising 
 and his force 
 Inse of security 
 jthority. Now 
 )ility, for Mr. 
 le had passed 
 through the 
 pe of revenge 
 to keep him 
 difficulty and 
 ifficer and his 
 , and tgr the 
 
 chance of wreaking his vengeance he was the more willing 
 to remain in what he feared would be a spook- infested 
 region. '*()nst sciuar with them, en crops realized," he 
 muttered, " 1 kin feel mo' comft'l)le in other parts. 'I'o- 
 nujrrer, ef Chunk en that scout's in these diggin's I'll know 
 hit." 
 
 He was aware that the few dogs left on the i)lantation 
 would make no trouble for (Jiie they knew as well as they 
 (lid Chunk, but he could rely on #ie brute which he kept in 
 liis own (juarters — a blood-hound, savage to every one 
 except his master. 
 
 " Crip will smell out the cussetl nigger in the mawnin' ef 
 he's been around," he assured himself before beginning his 
 nightly debauch. "What's mo', Miss Iniron ain't so high 
 en mighty now she knows I'm comin' to be the rale boss on 
 the place. She didn't even s(|ueak w'en I gin my warnin' 
 tcr night." 
 
 Althougli Chunk knew his danger and was cautious, he 
 was disposed on the first night of his arrival to take some 
 serious risks in order to carry out the schemes dwelt upon 
 iluring the long days of skulking home. Naturally fearless 
 he had acquired much of Scoville's soldier-like and scouting 
 spirit. The young officer had associated his dwarfish fol- 
 lower with the service '^endered by Miss Lou and was cor- 
 respondingly grateful. Chunk therefore received much 
 consideration and good counsel by which he had profited. 
 Especially had Scoville scoffed at the negro's superstitions, 
 telling him that a fool afraid of spooks was neither fit to be 
 a free man nor a soldier. 
 
 Since Chunk had no imagination and believed absolutely 
 in his master there were no more " spooks " for him, but he 
 knew well the dread inspired by that word on the plantation 
 and it was his purpose to avail himself of these deep-rooted 
 fears. He heard the colloquy between Zany and the over- 
 
 
'Mi; 
 
 324 
 
 ".i//.s;v r.or:' 
 
 f'ili 
 
 liii! 
 
 <■' 
 
 li! 
 
 I i 
 
 V li 
 
 , li 
 
 ,i I 
 
 seer very distinctly, l)iil so far from running away, dogged 
 the latter home. Long knife and revolver were handy in 
 his belt and a heavy rluh was carried also. Since no sol- 
 diers were around, Perkins was not to he dreaded in the 
 night, when once his resting-place was known. C'rouching a 
 long lime in the shadow of some cedars Chunk watched the 
 overseer's window, but the light was not extinguished. A 
 sudden suspicion dawned on our watcher, causing him to 
 chuckle low with delight. " Hi ! he des feared of sleepin' in 
 de dark, en dat can'le bu'n all niglit ! " (Hiding a few steps 
 nearer brought to the (|uick ear a resounding snore, accom- 
 l)anicd with a warning growl from the bloodhound. ** I des 
 fix 'em bof fo' I froo," and the brawny hand clutched witli 
 greater force the heavy club it carried. 
 
 " Nex', some dem fellers mus' be tole ter he'p," and 
 Chunk crept away to the (juarters. It was an easy task to 
 waken and enlist Jute, well known to be one of tlie most 
 disaffected anil fearless among the hantls. The two started 
 off to a grove which none could approach without being 
 seen, and had a long whispered consultation. As a result. 
 Jute returned to the quarters and brought back three others 
 whom he knew would enter into the schemes on foot. IJy 
 midnight Chunk had six of the braver and more reckless 
 spirits among the slaves bound to him by such uncouth 
 oaths as he believed would hold them most strongly. Then 
 they returned to their cabins while the chief conspirator 
 (after again reconnoitering the overseer's cottage) sought 
 the vicinity of his granny's home. 
 
 With mistaken kindness and much shrewdness Chunk 
 had resolved upon a course that would fill the old woman's 
 life with terror. He adopted the policy of not letting her 
 know any thing of his plans, so that she could honestly say 
 *' I dunno " and prove the fact by her manner. He in- 
 stinctively felt that it would have a very bad look if super- 
 
C0.VS/'/A\{7VA'S. 
 
 3-^5 
 
 away, dogged 
 ,vcre lu\ndy in 
 
 Since no sol- 
 IrciuU'd in ihc 
 . Ciourhing a 
 ik walchcd the 
 linguishcd. A 
 causing him to 
 :(l of slcepin' in 
 ling a lew steps 
 ; snore, accom- 
 !()vmd. " I des 
 d cUitched Willi 
 
 tcr he'p," and 
 an easy task to 
 )nc of the most 
 Mie two startetl 
 \ without being 
 As a result, 
 k three others 
 cs on foot. By 
 1 more reckless 
 y such imcouth 
 strongly. Then 
 hief conspirator 
 cottage) sought 
 
 lewdness Chunk 
 
 Ithe old woman's 
 
 not letting her 
 
 |uld honestly say 
 
 fanner. He in- 
 
 [\ look if super- 
 
 n 
 xc 
 
 stitious .Xun' Jinkey remained composed and quiet through 
 the scenes he purposed to bring about. Her sincere and 
 very ai)parent fears were to be his allies. It was part of his 
 scheme also that Zany should be very badly frightened and 
 made eager to run away with him as soon as he and the 
 others were ready for departure. 
 
 By a preconcerted signal he summoned Ann' Jinkey who 
 was much affected by the thought that she was bidiling her 
 grandson a good-by which might be final, but oppressed 
 with fear, she was at the same time eager he should go. 
 Putting into his hands a great pone of corn bread she 
 urged, " Des light out. Chunk, light out sud'n. 'i'wix de 
 baid news en Miss Lou en w'at l*erkins do ef he cotch you, 
 I des dat trembly, I kyant sian'." 
 
 " Perkins asleep, granny. I'se off now fer good, but I 
 comin' back fer you some day." 
 
 He disappeared and too perturbed to think of slee[) the 
 old woman tottered back to her chimney corner. A few 
 moments later she shuddered at the hooting of a screech- 
 owl, even though she surmised Chunk to be the bird. Not 
 so Zany who answered the signal promptly. In a tentative 
 way Chunk sought to find if she was then ready to run 
 away, but Zany declared she couldn't leave Miss Lou 
 *' lookin' ez if she wuz daid." Thinking it might be long 
 indeed before she saw her suitor again, she vouchsafed him 
 a very affectionate farewell which Chunk remorselessly pro- 
 longed, having learned in his brief campaigning not to leave 
 any of the goods the gods send to the uncertainties of the 
 future. When at last he tore himself away, he muttered, 
 " Speck she need a heap ob scarin' en she git all she wants. 
 Kf dat ar gyurl doan light out wid me nex' time I ax her, 
 den I eats a mule." And then Chunk apparently vanished 
 from the scene. 
 
 The next morning Miss Lou awoke feeble, da^ed and ill. 
 
 Hi 
 
 i 
 
 
 0? 
 
if?' 
 
 I ■!, 
 
 t •; • 
 ) • ■ 
 
 ! ';. 
 
 
 ii 
 
 m;:!, ! 
 
 
 ,2r, 
 
 "j/As.v /.rv. 
 
 In a little while her mind rallied sufficientlv to recall what 
 had happened, but her symptoms of nervous prostration and 
 lassitude were alarming. Mrs. VVhately was sent for, and 
 poor Mr. Baron learned, as by another surgical operation, 
 what had been his share in imposing on his niece too 
 severe a strain. Mrs. Waldo whispered to Miss Lou, "Your 
 mammy has told me enough to account for the shock you 
 received and your illness. Your secret is safe with me." 
 
 Meantime the good lady thought, " It will all turn out 
 for the best for the poor child. Such an attachment could 
 only end unhappily and she will get over it all the sooner 
 if she believes the Yankee officer dead. How deeply her 
 starved nature must have craved sympathy and affection to 
 have led to this in such a l^rief time and opportunity ! " 
 
 As may be supjDOsed, Aun' Jinkey had been chary f details 
 and had said nothing of Scoville's avowal. The mistress 
 of the plantation looked upon her niece's illness as a sort of 
 well earned "judgment for her p(;rversity," but all the same, 
 she took Cvire that the stronc^est beef tea was made and 
 atlministered regularly. Mrs. \Vhately arrived and became 
 chief watcher. The stricken girl's physical weakness seemed 
 etiualled only by a dreary mental apathy. There was scarcely 
 sufficient vital force left even for suffering, a fact recognized 
 by the aunt in loving and remorseful solicitude. 
 
 Bv the aid of his bloodhound Perkins discovered that 
 some one whom he believed to be Chunk had been about, 
 and he had secret misgivings as he thought of the negro's 
 close proximity. He had already learned what a blow 
 Chunk could deal antl his readiness to strike. Taking the 
 dcg and his gun he had cauiiously followed the run into 
 which the tracks led until satisfied that the man he was 
 following had taken horse and was beyond pursuit. On his 
 return he learned of Miss Lou's illness and so ventured to 
 threaten Aun' Jinkey. 
 
COXSPIRA TORS. 
 
 327 
 
 ,' lo recall what 
 prostration and 
 Ls sent for, and 
 gical operation, 
 his niece too 
 diss Lou, " Your 
 r the shock you 
 .fe with me." 
 A-ill all turn out 
 ttachmcnt could 
 it all the sooner 
 How deeply her 
 and affection to 
 portunity ! " 
 n chary • S. details 
 The mistress 
 ness as a sort of 
 but all the same, 
 was made and 
 •cd and became 
 eakness seemed 
 icre was scarcely 
 fact recognized 
 
 ule. 
 
 discovered that 
 -lad been about, 
 t of the negro's 
 d what a blow 
 ke. Taking the 
 ed the run into 
 the man he was 
 pursuit. On his 
 so ventured to 
 
 "Yer do know 'bout that cussed grandson o' yourn. 
 Kyant fool Grip, en he's smelled out all the nigger's tracks. 
 Now ef yer don't tell the truth I'll raise the kentry 'roun' en 
 we'll hunt 'im to the eends of the yearth." 
 
 " Well den, Marse i\Tkins," admitted the terror stricken 
 woman, " 1 des tell you de truf. Dat gran'boy ob min' des 
 come ter say good-by. Ivlarse Scoville daid en Chunk 
 mos' up Norf by dis time, he went away so sud'n." 
 
 " That Yankee cuss dead?" cried Perkins in undisguised 
 exultation. 
 
 " Marse Scoville daid, shot of'n he boss long way fum 
 yere," replied Aun' Jinkey sorrowfully. '' He kyant harm 
 you ner you 'im no mo', ner Chunk neider." 
 
 " Why the devil didn't you let us know Chunk was here 
 las' night?" 
 
 *' He my gran'son," was the simple reply. 
 
 ''Well he isn't Zany's grandson! Now I know w'at she 
 was snoopin' round nights fer, en Mrs. Baron'U know, too, 
 'fore I'm five minutes older." 
 
 Aun' Jinkey threw up her hands and sunk back into her 
 chair more dead than alive. She, too, had been taxed 
 beyond endurance and all her power to act had ceased with 
 her final effort to show that pursuit of Chunk would be 
 useless. 
 
 Perkins speedily obtained an audience with Mrs. Paron, 
 who became deeply incensed and especially against Zany. 
 The inexorable old lady, however, never acted from |)assion. 
 She nodded coldly to the overseer s:iying, " I will inform 
 Mr. Baron and he will give you your orders in regard to the 
 offenders." 
 
 Zany was too alert not to observe the interview and the 
 omens of trouble in the compressed lips of " ole miss " and 
 the steel-like gleam of her e)es. The moment Mrs. Baron 
 was closeted with her husband the girl sped to the cabjn. 
 
 |:: 
 
 <^ 
 
 I A 
 
1 1 
 
 lit 
 
 n ii 
 
 I! 
 ii U 
 
 :\i -I' 
 
 II 
 
 '1 I, 
 
 
 
 W' 
 
 i)i 
 
 ill! ii 
 
 
 tv 
 
 ^*f' 
 
 1 ", 
 
 
 49 
 
 I i: 
 
 328 
 
 "A//SS LOC/." 
 
 "Did you tell Perkins Chunk beenyere?" she demanded 
 fiercely. 
 
 "'P'o' de Lawd I des gvvine all ter pieces," gasped Aun' 
 Jinkey. 
 
 " Hope ter grashus yer does, en de pieces neber come 
 tergedder agin," said Zany in contemptuous anger and deep 
 alarm. 
 
 Under the spur of tremendous excitement she hastened 
 back, thinking as she ran, " Miss Lou too sick ter do any 
 ting. I des got ter 'peal ter Miss Whately, er olc miss hab 
 me whipped haf ter daith." When in response to a timid 
 knock Mrs. Whately peered out of her niece's rc...;Ti she 
 found ^a trembling suppliant with streaming eyes. Noise- 
 lessly shutting the door the matron said warningly : 
 
 "Don't you know Miss Lou's life depends on quiet?" 
 
 " How she gwine ter hab quiet w'en ole miss gwine ter 
 hab Marse Perkins whip me'n Aun' Jinkey ter daith?" 
 
 " Nonsense ! Why should either of you be punished ? " 
 
 "Well missus, 1 'fess ter you," sobl ed Zany, " kaze you 
 got more feelin' fer us. Chunk come las' night ter say 
 good-by ter he granny'n me, en den he put out fer good, 
 en jain' comin' back no mo'. Perkins en he dog foun' hit 
 out dis mawnin', en Aun' Jinkey tole 'im, too, I reck'n, she 
 all broke up. Perkins been talkin' ter ole miss en she look 
 lak she al'ays does w'en ders no let up. Hit ud des kill 
 Miss Lou if she knew me'n Aun' Jinkey wuz bein' whipped." 
 
 " Zany," said Mrs. Whately in rising anger, " you both 
 had full warning. You knew what Chunk had done. He 
 stole my son's horse and one from his master also, besides 
 doing other things that could not be forgiven." 
 
 " Please reckermefnber, missus, dat Chunk en me is 
 mighty sweet on each oder en he Aun' Jinkey gran'l)oy. Tain' 
 dat we 'prove of his goin's on, but how cud we tell on 'im en 
 see 'im daid, w'en he des come ter say good-by. Oh, ef 
 
Jm 
 
 COiXSPIRA TORS. 
 
 329 
 
 she demanded 
 
 ," gasped Aun' 
 
 es neber come 
 mger and deep 
 
 it she hastened 
 sick ter do any 
 er ole miss hab 
 Dnse to a timid 
 iece's rc..;Ti she 
 g eyes. Noise- 
 lingly : 
 5 on quiet?" 
 
 miss gwine ter 
 erdaith?" 
 )e punished?" 
 ;any, " kaze you 
 |S' night ter say 
 |it out fer good, 
 e dog foun' hit 
 .0, I reck'n, she 
 iss en she look 
 Hit ud des kill 
 bein' whipped." 
 ger, " you both 
 had done. He 
 iter also, besides 
 
 in." ^ 
 
 liunk en me is 
 lgran'))oy. Tain' 
 Ive tell on 'im en 
 lood-by. Oh, ^f 
 
 Miss Lou on'y well she neber let dat ole Perkins tech 
 us." 
 
 '■'■ I will see your master before anything is done," said 
 Mrs. Whately witli troubled face. " Go to your work now. 
 I will get Mrs. Waldo to watch in my place after a 
 while." 
 
 Mr. Baron was depressed physically and mentally by the 
 trying events of the past few weeks, but the fact that Chunk 
 had ventured on the place again and had been permitted to 
 escape angered him deeply. He also accepted the view of 
 his wife and overseer that all discipline among the slaves 
 would soon be at an end if so serious an offence were over- 
 looked. It would be a confession of weakness and fear they 
 believed which would have a most demoralizing effect in the 
 (juarters. Chunk represented the worst offences of which 
 the slaves could be guilty ; the most solemn warnings had 
 been given against aiding and abetting him in any way. To 
 do nothing now would be a virtual permission of lawlessness. 
 There was no thought of mercy for Zany, but Aun' Jinkey's 
 age, feebleness, together with her relations to Chunk and 
 Miss Lou complicated matters. 
 
 Husband and wife were still consulting when Mrs. Whately 
 joined them. Mrs. Baron did not welcome her guest, feeling 
 that this was purely a personal affair, and was in no mood to 
 brook interference. 
 
 '' 1 can't be absent long," began Mrs. Whately, " Zany 
 lias told me everything and " — 
 
 " I think, sister, that Mr. Baron and I can manage this 
 matter," interrupted Mrs. Baron coolly. 
 
 " No doubt you can," Mrs. Whately replied with dignity. 
 " I did not come down to interfere with your domestic 
 ;'lTairs. There is one point on which I have a right to speak 
 and must speak. You can't punish Aun' Jinkey and Zany 
 now if knowledge of such punishment can in any way reach 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 \\-\ 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 l\ 
 
I i 
 
 il ii? 
 
 $ 
 
 330 
 
 .1//.S.V /.orrr* 
 
 our niece. No matter how iiiu'h they may deserve it, I 
 sav you cannot do it. I promised Zany nothing, held out 
 no hope to her of escape, but to you I will speak plainly. 
 If you should excite and disturb Louise now, you might 
 easily ca'ise her death. If you feel that you cannot overlook 
 the offence (and I know how serious a one it is) wait till I 
 can remove Louise to my own house. You will find that 
 Dr. I'elton when he arrives will confirm my words." 
 
 Mr. Ijaron weakened. He had not the relendess will of 
 his wife who interposed with cutting emphasis, "There is 
 no need of Louise's knowing anything about it till she is 
 much better, and it would be well for her to learn then, 
 as well as the slaves, that there is still a master and 
 mistress." 
 
 '' It may be long before Louise is much better," Mrs. 
 Whaiely replied gravely. " She has been subjected to a 
 strain for wliich my conscience reproaches me, however it 
 may be with yours. She is in a very critical state, and seem- 
 ingly from some recent shock." 
 
 " Can i-he news Chunk brought have had any such effect?" 
 broke forth Mrs. Baron indignantly — '* hews of the death 
 of that Yankee whom she met and treated as a social equal 
 sorely against my will?" 
 
 " Lieutenant Scoville dead ! " exclaimed Mrs. Whately 
 looking shocked and sad. 
 
 " Yes, so Chunk told his granny." 
 
 Mrs. AMiately was troubled indeed. Perhaps there had 
 been much more than she had suspected. If so, this fart 
 would account for the girl's extreme prostration. To bring 
 these tidings might have been one of Chunk's chief motives 
 in venturing on his brief visit. Miss Lou might know all 
 about the visit and even have seen Chunk herself. If this 
 were true, punishment of those who were in a sense her 
 accomplices would be all the more disastrous. The per 
 
COXSP/RA TORS. 
 
 33 f 
 
 nay deserve it, 1 
 nothing, lield out 
 vill speak plainly, 
 now, you might 
 ai cannot overlook 
 e it is) wait till I 
 Vou will find that 
 ly words." 
 le rclendess will of 
 iphasis, "There is 
 about it till she is 
 her to learn then, 
 till a master and 
 
 auch better," Mrs. 
 
 en subjected to a 
 
 hes me, however it 
 
 al state, and seem- 
 
 id any such effect?" 
 news of the death 
 l1 as a social e(iual 
 
 Ined Mrs. Whateh' 
 
 Perhaps there had 
 d. If so, this fart 
 Ltration. To brin- 
 Imk's chief modvcs 
 lou might know all 
 Ilk herself. If this 
 ixQ in a sense her 
 istrous. The per 
 
 jjlexed matron felt that .she must have more time to think 
 and to acquire fiiller knowledge of the affair. 
 
 "Brother," she said finally, "you are the guardian of 
 Louise and in authority. She is now helpless^ and at present 
 (juiet. If (juiet of mind and body can be maintained long 
 enough she will no doubt get well. In a sense I am now 
 her physician, and I say as Surgeon Ackley said of his 
 ])atients, she cannot be disturbed. I positively forbid it. 
 Dr. Pelton who must soon be here will take the same 
 ground. Public opinion will support him and me in hold- 
 ing you responsible if )'ou order any thing endangering your 
 ward's life and health at this time. Mrs. Waldo and her 
 son would be witnesses. How far the former is accpiainted 
 with affairs we do not know. She watched with Louise all 
 last night. If you act hastily you may be sorry indeed. T 
 am trying kindness and conciliation with my })eople and 
 they are doing better. I fear your policy is mistaken, 
 ('hunk is gone and beyond i)unishment. It is asking much 
 to expect that his grandmother and the girl who loves him 
 after her fashion would give information against him. It 
 would seem that only the two slaves and Perkins know of 
 this visit. Affairs are bad enough with you as it is and you 
 can easily make them much worse. If you must j^unish for 
 effect, take some stout field 'land who is insubordinate or 
 la/y. At any rate I love Louise and hope some day to call 
 Ikt daughter and I will not have her life endangered. 
 That's all I have to say." 
 
 Mr. Baron's flame of anger had died out. His views had 
 not been changed by his harsh experience, but he had been 
 (impelled to see that there were times when he could not 
 have his own way. So he said testily, " Well, well, we'll 
 liave to let the matter rest a while I suppose." 
 
 Mrs. Whately departed. Mrs. Baron put her thin lips 
 together in a way which meant volumes, and went out on 
 
 
 r-5' 
 
 1- 
 
 J" 
 
M 
 
 I 
 
 f^ 
 
 f I' 
 
 I 
 
 'If 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 f; 
 
 V ; 
 
 Mli 
 
 , ? =■■ * 
 
 
 ?, 
 
 332 
 
 "J//^-6- ZC6'. " 
 
 her housekeeping round, giving her orders to Zany in sharper, 
 more metalUc tones llian usual. The dehnqucnt herself luul 
 overheard enough of the conversation to learn that the evil 
 day had at least been put off and to get some clue as to the 
 future. 
 
 r; 
 
CHUNK PLAYS SPOOK, 
 
 333 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 CHUNK PLAYS SPOOK. 
 
 SINCE Mr. Barofi liad yielded for the present, Mrs. 
 Whatcly was glad nothing need be said to the physician 
 concerning their affairs. His positive injunction of quiet 
 was sufficient, and now that Mr. Baron was impressed with 
 its need and had had time for sol)er second thought, he 
 concluded that he had trouble enough on hand as it was. 
 He felt that every quiet day gained was so much towards 
 securing the absolutely essential crops. Perkins was there- 
 fore summoned and the situation in part explained. 
 
 The overseer was in unusual good humor over the death 
 of Scoville, and if Chunk had escaped fmally, there was 
 compensation in the thought of having no more disturbance 
 from that source. So, fortunately for poor Zany avarice 
 came to the fore and Perkins agreed that the best thing to 
 do was to bend every energy to " making the crops," using 
 severitv onlv in the furtherance of this end. 
 
 " Beg pardon, Mr. Baron, but I must have sump'n up and 
 down clar. There's been so many bosses of late en my 
 orders been knocked eendwise so ofen that I don't know, 
 en the hands don't know whether I've got any po'r or no. 
 Kf this thing 'bout Chunk gits out, en nobody punished, the 
 fiel'-hans natchelly think we darsn't punish. Mought es 
 well give up then." 
 
 ** Punish as much as you think necessary to keep the 
 
 ¥ 
 
 M 
 
 
i 
 
 I i 
 
 , ■ ! in 
 
 i 
 
 1' 
 
 i; 
 
 1 1 
 
 r i 
 
 \\ 
 
 11 . 1 
 
 ;i: 
 
 liiii 
 
 Ijli !■! 
 
 !• I 
 
 ! ! 
 
 3.H 
 
 "J/A9.V /.(9rv 
 
 quartcr-liaiuls al . work. 'I'lien it is plain," replied Mr 
 IJaron. 
 
 Very seldom had Terkiiis been in so comi)lacenl Iml 
 exultant a niootl as when he left the presence of Mr. Baron 
 that morning, liut his troubles began s|)ee(lily. Jute had 
 sle])t little the night before and was stupid and indifferent lo 
 his work in the at'ternoon. l-'inding threats had little effeet, 
 the overseer struck a blow with his cane. The negro turned 
 fiercely but was confrontetl with a revolver, lie resumed 
 work doggedly his sullen look spreading like the shadow of 
 a cloutl to the faces of the others. So many began to grow 
 indifferent and reckless that to punish all was out of the 
 (juestion. Perkins stormed and threatened, striking some 
 here antl there, almost beside himself from increasing anxiety 
 and rage. Whichever way he turned a dark vindictive face 
 met his eyes. The slaves had enjoyed a brief sense and 
 sweet hope of freedom ; he was seeking to refiisten the yoke 
 with brutal hands and it galled as never before. Even his 
 narrow arbitrary nature was impressed with the truth that a 
 great change was taking place ; that a proclamation issued 
 hundreds of miles away was more potent than his heavy 
 hand. lie was as incapable of any policy other than force 
 as was his employer of abandoning the grooves in which his 
 thoughts had always run. 
 
 The worrisome afternoon finally ended, leaving the 
 harassed man free to seek consolation from his jug. Mr. 
 Ikron relai-)sed into his quiet yet bitter mental protest. 
 *'()le miss " maintained inexorable discvj)line over the yard 
 and house slaves, keeping all busy in removing every stain 
 and trace of the hospital. She governed by fear also, but it 
 was the fear which a resolute indomitable will produces in 
 weaker natures. 
 
 Mrs. Waldo already felt uncomfortable. There was no 
 lack of outward courtesy, but the two women had so little in 
 
< I 
 
 CJH'XA' /'/.jys SPOOK', 
 
 335 
 
 common that tliere was almost a total absence of sympathy 
 l)et\veen them. The guests through the forluiie of war 
 resolved therefore to depart in a day or two, making the 
 journey home by easy stages. Mrs. W'hately was both 
 l)t)lite and cordial, but she also felt that the family should be 
 alone as soon as })ossible, that they were facing [)roblems 
 which could better be solved without witnesses. It was her 
 lu)i>e now to nurse her charge batk to health and. by the 
 utmost exercise of tact, gain such an ascendency over the 
 ;;iil as to win her comj^letely. (Iranting that the matron's 
 t Iforl was part of a scheme, it was one i)romi)te(.l by deep 
 affection, a yearning to (all her niece daughter and to 
 l)rovi(le for the idolized son just the kind of wife believed 
 to l»e essential to his welfare. Much pondering on the 
 matter led her to believe that even if the tidings of Scoville's 
 ileath had been the cause of the final ])rostrating shock, it 
 was but the slight blow required to strike down one already 
 feeble and tottering to her fi\ll. '* He probably made a 
 strong, but necessarily a j)assing impression on the dear 
 child's mind," she reasoned. " When she gets well she will 
 think of him only as she does of the other Union soldiers 
 who so interested her." 
 
 The object of this solicitude was docile and (luiet, taking 
 wliat was given her, but evidently exhausted beyorid the 
 ])ower of thought or voluntary action. 
 
 The night passed aj)i)arently without incident, but it was 
 a busy one for Chunk. He again summoned Jute and his 
 other confederates to a tryst in the grove to impress them 
 with his plans. It was part of his scheme to permit a few 
 nii^hts to pass quietly so that disturbances would not be 
 associated with him, he being su[)posed far awa)'. In the 
 depths of the adjacent forest he had found safe shelter for 
 himself and horse, and here, like a beast in its lair he slept 
 by day. The darkness was as light to him about the 
 
 > 
 <i 
 
 
 
 ^ 5 
 
•AmIM 
 
 iirurFiiif 
 
 *!« 
 
 II!!!m 
 
 li^i 
 
 Mi! 
 
 . i 
 
 •)■; 
 
 ■jjK 
 
 it !i 
 
 36 
 
 'M//.V.V /.(9r/" 
 
 familiar i)lantation, ami Ik* i)ro\vlfcl around al iii^lil 
 unmoleslcd. 
 
 During this second iiicctiiig lie attLUiiplcd little more than 
 to argue his (hisky assoi:iates out of their innate fear of 
 spooks and to urge u|)on them patience in submitting to 
 Perkins's rule a liltl'j longer. " i (K^s tells you," he declared, 
 " dey ain' no spooks fer us ! Dere's spooks on y fer dem w'at 
 kills folks on de sly-like. Ef olc Perkins come rarin' en 
 tarin' wid his gun en dawg, I des kill 'im cz I wud a 
 rattler en he kyant bodder me no mo' ; but ef I steal on 'im 
 now en kill 'im in he sleep he ghos pester me ter daith. 
 Dat de conslomeration ob de hull business. I doan ax you 
 ter do aryting but he'p me skeei 'im mos' ter daith. He 
 watchia' lak a ole fox ter ke'p you en Zany )'cre. Ef you 
 puts out, he riz de kent'y en j)ut de houn's arter you. We 
 des got tor skeer 'im off fust. I'm studyin' how ter git dat 
 dawg out'n de way. Des go on (juiet few mo' days en ef 
 you year quar noises up on de hill whar de sogers bur'ed 
 you know hit me. Look skeered lak de oders but doan be 
 fear'd en keep mum." 
 
 The next few days and nights passed in quiet and all 
 began to l)reathe more freely. Even Ann' Jinkey rallied 
 under the soothing inPaience of her pipe and the i)rivilege 
 of watching part of each day with Miss Lou. Slowly the girl 
 began to grow better. Hoping not even for tolerance of 
 her feelings in regard to Scoville, it was her instinct to con- 
 real tliem from her relatives. She knew Mrs. Waldo would 
 not reveal what Ann' Jinkey had told her, and understood 
 the peculiar tenderness with which that lady often kissed her. 
 She also guessed that while the staunch Southern friend 
 had deep sympathy for her there was not very strong regret 
 that the affair had ended in a way to preclude further 
 complications. . 
 
 *' Remember, my dear/' said Mrs. Waldo, in her affec- 
 
c//i'\A' /'/..lis srooA', 
 
 337 
 
 )un(l at 
 
 nijihl 
 
 little more than 
 • innate fear of 
 n submitting to 
 :)u," he declared, 
 )n y fer dem w'at 
 s come rarin' en 
 im Qi I vvud a 
 ef I steal on Mm 
 cr me ter daith. 
 
 I doan ax you 
 s' ter daith. He 
 ly ycre. Ef you 
 ; arter you. We 
 ' how ter git dat 
 
 mo' days en ef 
 le sogers bur'ed 
 lers but doan be 
 
 in quiet and all 
 in' Jinkey rallied 
 and the privilege 
 Slowly the girl 
 for tolerance of 
 instinct to con- 
 Irs. Waldo would 
 and understood 
 often kissed her. 
 Southern friend 
 j-ery strong regret 
 [preclude further 
 
 lo, in her affec- 
 
 tionate parting, "that Clod never utterly impoverishes our 
 iive.s. Only we ourselves can do that. You will get well 
 and become haf)py in making others happy." 
 
 On the evening of that day, even Mr. Baron's routine was 
 completely restored. His larder was meagre compared 
 with the past, but with the exception that Mrs. Whately 
 occupied the place of his niece at the table, and viands 
 were fe\'er, all was as it had been. Zany's fears had sub- 
 sided leaving her inwardly chafing at the prospect of mo- 
 notonous and inilefinite years of work under " ole miss," 
 with little chance of Chunk's return. Aun' Suke's taste of 
 freedom had not been to her mind, so she was rather com- 
 pbcent than otherwise, and especially over tb" fact that 
 there was so little lO cook. The garden and Mr. Baron's 
 good credit would insure enough plain food till the crops 
 matured and the impoverishment caused by the raid was 
 repaired. It certainly seemed when the sun set that even- 
 ing that the present aspect of affairs might be maintained 
 indefinitely m the little community. 
 
 Only one was not exactly at rest. Perkins felt as if some- 
 tiiing was in the air. There was a brooding, sullen quiet 
 among the negroes which led him to suspect that they were 
 waiting and hoping for something unknown to him. This 
 was true of Uncle Lusthah and the majority. The crack of 
 Union rifles was the " soun' fum far away " they were listen- 
 ing for. By secret channels of communication tidings of 
 distant battles were conveyed from plantation to plantation, 
 and the slaves were often better informed than their mas- 
 ters. As for Perkins, he knew next to nothing of what was 
 taking place, nor did he dream that he was daily addressing 
 harsh words to conspirators against his peace. 
 
 The time had come when Chunk was ready to act. On 
 the night in question a hot wind arose which blew from the 
 little burial-place on the hill towards the house. " Hi ! now's 
 
 V 
 
 i 
 
 
n I' 
 
 i ■■ ■ 
 
 
 
 lliilln 
 
 11^'' 
 
 I ■ I 
 
 f I 
 
 ', I 
 
 Kii 
 
 3.^8 
 
 ".v/.v.v /.or." 
 
 !■ 
 
 clc charncc ter fix dat .ir l^izness ! " and he made his 
 preparations. Sliortly before midnight he crept Uke a cat 
 under the overseer's window. The heavy snoring rose and 
 fell reassuringly, sweet as music to Chunk's ears. Not so 
 the angry, restless growling of the savage bloodhound 
 chained within. " liut you doan kotch me dis yere time fer 
 . all yer fuss, Marse Cirip," the negro muttered. " I done 
 hab yer brekfus' ready fer yer ! Dat'll settle yer hash," and 
 with deft liand a piece of poisoned meat was tossed close to 
 the brute's feet as Chunk hastened away. Jute was next 
 wakened and put on the watch. An hour later there came 
 from the soldiers' cemetery the most vloleful, unearthly 
 sounds imaginable. No need for Jute and his confederates 
 to arouse the otlier negroes in the (piarters. A huddled 
 frightened gang soon collected, Aun' Jinkey among them so 
 scared she could not speak. 
 
 " Marse Perkins ought to know 'bout dis," cried 
 Jute. 
 
 The suggestion was enough. Tiie whole terror stricken 
 throng rushed in a body to the overseer's cottage and began 
 calling and shrieking, "Come out yere ! come out yere I" 
 Confused in his sudden waking and thinking he was 
 mobbed, he shouted through the window, " I'll shoot a 
 dozen of yer efyer don't clar out." 
 
 " Marse Perkins, des you lis'n," rose in chorus from those 
 far beyond the fear of mortal weapons. 
 
 In the silence that followed the rushing wind bore down to 
 
 ^ them a weird, dismal howl that in Perkins's ears met every 
 
 ghostly requirement. His teeth began to chatter like casti- 
 
 nets and snatching his jug of corn whiskey he swallowed 
 
 great draughts. 
 
 " We des tink you orter know 'bout dis," said Jute. 
 
 " Cert'ny," cried Perkins in his sudden flame of false 
 courage. " I'll light a lantern and take twenty o' you hands 
 
CliUXK PL.l YS srOOA'. 
 
 339 
 
 he made his 
 ci)t hke a <at 
 )riiig rose and 
 cars. Not so 
 re l)K)()(lhoun(l 
 .s yerc lime fer 
 red. " I done 
 yer hash," ami 
 tossed close to 
 Jule was next 
 Iter there came 
 ilcful, unearthly 
 his confederates 
 rs. A huddled 
 among them so 
 
 1 
 
 lit dis," cried 
 
 terror stricken 
 ttage and began 
 )me out yere ! " 
 inking he was 
 " I'll shoot a 
 
 lorus from those 
 
 nd bore down to 
 ears met every 
 Ihatter like casti- 
 ly he swallowed 
 
 I said Jute. 
 
 flame of false 
 ity o' you hands 
 
 round that place. F^f thar's a cuss yonder makin' this 'stur- 
 bance we'll roast Mm alive." 
 
 In a moment or two he dressed and came out with a 
 lij^'ht and his gun. Two revolvers were also stuck in his 
 bell. As he appeared on the threshold there was a i)ro- 
 longed yell which < urdled even his inflamed blood and sent 
 some of the negro women into hysterics. 
 
 '•Come on," shouted the overseer hoarsely, ''thirty of 
 yer ef yer afraid." 
 
 The crowd fell back. " We ain' gwine ter dat ar spook 
 l)lace, no maltah w'at you do to us." 
 
 "Perkins, what is the matter?" Mr. IJaron was heard 
 shouting from the house. 
 
 " Reckon you better come out yere sir." 
 
 " Are the hands making trouble? " 
 
 " No sir, sump'n (juar's gwine on, what we kyant mek 
 out yit." 
 
 Mr. Baron, wrapped in his dressing-gown, soon appeared 
 on the scene, while Aun' Suke's domain contributed its 
 (juota also of agitated, half-dressed forms. Chunk could 
 not resist the temptation to be a witness to the scene and 
 in a copse near by was grinning with silent laughter at his 
 success. 
 
 After learning what had occurred, Mr. Baron scoffed at 
 their superstitions, sternly bidding all to go to their places 
 and keep quiet. " Perkins, you've been drinking beyond 
 reason," he warned his overseer in a low voice. " Get 
 back to your room quick or you will be the laughing-stock 
 of everybody ! See here, you people, you have simply got 
 into a panic over the howling of the wind, which happens 
 to blow down from the graveyard to-night." 
 
 " Neber yeared de win' howl dat away befo'," the negroes 
 answered, as in a mass they drifted back to the quarters. 
 
 Perkins was not only aware of his condition but was only 
 
ft I 
 
 t 
 
 'Hi 
 
 1 Hi* 
 
 1 1 
 
 340 
 
 J//.V.V /,(9^'" 
 
 too glad to have so good an excuse for not searching the 
 cemetery. Scarcely had he been left alone, however, before 
 he followed the negroes, resolved upon companionship of 
 even those in whom he denied a humanity like his own. 
 In the darkness Chunk found an opportunity to summon 
 Jute aside and say, " P>ee er fo' oh you offer tcr stay wid 
 ole Perkins. Thet he'p me out." 
 
 Perkins accepted the offer gladly, and they agreed to 
 watch at his door and in the little hall-wav. 
 
 " Vou mus' des tie \\\) dat ar dawg ob yourn," first 
 stij^ula'tcd Juic. 
 
 "Why, whar in is the dog? TIain't yeared a sound 
 
 from 'im sence the 'sturbance begun." 
 
 '* Dawgs kyant stan' spooks nohow," remarked Jute. 
 
 " I've yeared that," admitted IVrkins, looking around 
 for the animal. 
 
 "Thar he is, un'er yo' baid," said Jute, pecking through 
 the doorway. 
 
 The miserable man's hair fairly stood up when the brute 
 was discovered stark and dead without a scratch upon him. 
 Recourse was again had to the jug and oblivion soon 
 followed. 
 
 if 
 
A VISITATIOX, 
 
 34t 
 
 CHAITKR XXX\\ 
 
 A VISITATION. 
 
 ^j 
 
 THKRM was no more sleep at the quarters that niglit, 
 and never was tlie dawn nioie welcome. It only 
 brought a resj)ite, however, for the impression was fixed that 
 the place was haunted. There was a settled aspect of gloom 
 and anxiety on every dusky face in the morning. Mr. 
 liaron found his overseer incapacitated for duty, but the 
 hamls were rather anxious to go to work and readily obeyed 
 his orders to do so. They clung to all that was familiar and 
 every-day-like. while their fears and tror.bled consciences 
 spurred them to tasks which they felt might be a sort of 
 propitiation to the mysterious powers abroad. Zany was 
 now sorry indeed that she had not gone with ("hunk, and 
 poor Aun' Jinkey so shook and trembled all day that Mr;>. 
 Whately would not let her watch by Miss Lou. Knowing 
 much of negro superstitions she believetl, with her brother 
 and Mrs. Haron, that the graves on the place, together with 
 some natural, yet unusual sounds, had started a i)anic which 
 would soon die out. 
 
 V.'hen at last Perkins, shaky and nervous, reported the 
 mysterious death of his dog, Mr. Huron was perplexed, but 
 nothing more. '* Vou were in no < ondilion to give a sane 
 account of anything that hai)i)ened last night," he said 
 curtly. " He careful in tiie tuture. If you will only be sen- 
 jiible about it, this ridiculous scare will be to our advantage, 
 
 f : 
 
$ 
 
 ^4^ 
 
 'M//.V.V /.or: 
 
 If I 
 
 ij '!•' 
 
 i'- 
 
 for tlu' hands .in* snlulucd cikmi^Ii now and friglitcMU'd into 
 their duty." 
 
 IVrkins remained silent. In trutii. lie was nion.' fright- 
 ened than any one else, lor the death of his dog ai)i)eared 
 to single him out as a special ohje<t of ghostly hostility. 
 He g(U tlirough the day as well as he could, but dreaded 
 the coming night all the more as he saw eyes directed 
 towards him. as if he. in some wav. were the cause of the 
 supernatinal visitation. This belief was due to the fai't that 
 Ann' jinkey in her terror had spoken of Scoville's death 
 although she would uo{ ^A\ how she knew about it. " IVr- 
 kins shoot at en try ter kill Marse Scoville," she had whis- 
 pered to her cronies, " en now he daid he sjxnik comin' 
 yere ter hant de oberseer. We neber hab no (juiet nights 
 till dat ar IVrkins go way fer good.'' 
 
 This rational explanation passed from lij^ to li]> and was 
 generally aceej^ted. 'I'he coming night was looked forward 
 to in deep apprehension, and by none more than by IVrkins. 
 luvieed, his tears so got the better of him that when the 
 hands <]uit wi>rk he started for the nearest tavern and there 
 remained till morning. Chunk was made aware of this fact, 
 and the night jiassed in absolute (juiet. .Ml the negroes not 
 in the secret now hojied that the overseer was the sole prey 
 oi the spook, and tlial if they remainetl (juietly in their 
 l)laces they would be unmolested. Chunk and a \'c\v of the 
 boldest o\ his tellow ci>ns]-)irators had t'ull scope therefore 
 to jjerfect their llnal arrangements. In a disused room of 
 one o[ \hc outbuildings tlu^ most ragged and blood-stained 
 unitorms {A the I'nion soldiers had been cast ami Ibrgotten. 
 'I'hese were carried to a point near the buryingground. tried 
 on and (oncealed. Chunk lound it was no easy task to 
 keep e\en the reckless tellows he had jMcked ui) to the 
 sticking i)oint of courage in the gruesome tasks he had in 
 view, but his scotV. together with their mutual aid and 
 
■wtoi 
 
 ■Hi 
 
 MM 
 
 -/ r/s/TAT/oy. 
 
 343 
 
 frightened into 
 
 IS mort' friglit- 
 s (log appeared^ 
 :iostly hostility. 
 d, Init dreatlcd 
 : eyes directed 
 le cause of the 
 
 to the fat-t that 
 koville's death 
 iHMit it. " Per- 
 " she had wliis- 
 L! spook eoniin' 
 
 no (luiet nights 
 
 n to lip and was 
 ^ looked t\)r\vard 
 lan by Perkins, 
 that when the 
 avern and there 
 /are oi this fact, 
 tlie negroes mA 
 as the sole prey 
 quietly in their 
 md a few of tlie 
 scope therefore 
 isused room ot 
 (1 blood-staineil 
 l and forgotten. 
 ■ ground, tried 
 u) easy task to 
 ■ked up to the 
 tasks he had in 
 uitual aid and 
 
 comfort, carried ihi-in tlirougli, while tiie lioj)e of speedy 
 freedom ins|>ired them to what was felt to be great risks. 
 
 On tliis occasion lie (Hsmissed them some little time 
 before midnight, for lie wished them to get rested and in 
 good condition for what he hoped would be tlie final effort 
 the following night. As he lingered in the still, starlit 
 darkness he < i)uld not resist making an eflort to see Zany, 
 and so began hooting like an owl down by the run, gradu- 
 ally approaching nearer till he reached the garden. Zany, 
 wakeful and shivering with nameless dread, was startled l)y 
 the sound. Listening intently, she soon believed she 
 detected a note tliat was ("hunk's and not a bird's. Her 
 first impressicjn was that her lover had discovered that he 
 could not go finally away without her and so had returned. 
 Her fear of si)ooks was so great that her impulse was to run 
 away with Chunk as far from that haunted plantation as he 
 would take her. IVembling like a wind-shaken leaf, she 
 stole into the garden shrubbery and whispered, " Chunk?" 
 
 " Hi ! yere I is." 
 
 'i'here was no tantalizing cocjuetry in Zany's maimer now. 
 In a moment she was in Chunk's arms sol)l)ing, "Tek me 
 way off fum (lis [)lacc. I go wid you now, dis berry minute, 
 en I neber breve easy till we way, way off enywhar, I doan 
 keer whar. () Chunk, you doan know w'at been gvvine on 
 en I darsn't tell you twel we gits way off." 
 
 " I isn't leared," replied C'hunk easily. 
 
 " Oat's kaze you doan know. I des been tremblin' stiddy 
 sence las' night en I'se feared hit begin eny minute 
 
 M 
 
 now. 
 
 " Hit woan begin dis yere night," replied Chunk, sooth- 
 ingly and incautiously. 
 
 " How you know?" she asked ijuickly, a sudden suspicion 
 entering her mind. 
 
 " Wat's ter begin ? " answered Chunk, now on his guard. 
 
 li 
 
r;i' i 
 
 Jii. 
 
 . 1 1 
 t : 
 
 ! ( 
 
 f, 
 
 ill 
 
 I .'< 
 
 H" 
 
 > i • 
 
 lid: 
 
 I JII! I 
 
 |i 
 
 344 
 
 "Af/ss T.oirr^ 
 
 " De night am still, nobody roun'. I hang roiin' a few 
 nights twel I study out de bes' plan ter git away." 
 
 "Has you been hangin' roun' nights, Chunk?" Zany 
 asked solemnly. 
 
 " How you talks, Zany I Does you spects I dar stay 
 rop.n' whar Perkins am ? He kill me. He done gone way 
 to-night." 
 
 " How you know dat? " 
 
 " One de fiel'-hans tole me." 
 
 " Chunk, ef you up ter shines en doan tole me I done 
 wid you. Hasn't I hep you out'n in eberyting so fur? Kf I 
 fin' out you been skeerin me so wid eny doin's I des done 
 wid you. I des feel hit in my bones you de spo(;k. You 
 kyant bam])00/,lc me. 1 kin hep you — hab done hit afo' 
 — en I kin hinder you, so be keerful. Dere's som-.^ 
 dit'unce in bein' a spook yosef en bein' skeered ter death by 
 a rale spook. Ef you tryin' ter skeer en fool me I be wuss 
 on you ner eny Voodoo woman dat eber kunjurd folks." 
 
 The interview ended in Chunk's making a clean breast of 
 it and in securing Zany as an ally with mental reservations. 
 The thought that he had fooled her rankled. 
 
 Mr. Baron's expostulation and his own pressing interests 
 induced Perkins to remain at home the following night. As 
 Jute had seemed forgiving and friendly, the overseer asked 
 him to bring two others and stay with him, offering some of 
 the contents of the replenished jug as a reward. They sat 
 respectlully near tiie door wiiile Perkins threw himself on 
 his bed with the intention of getting to sleej) as soon as 
 possible. " Are you shore ther wuz no 'sturbances last 
 night? " he asked. 
 
 " Well, Marse Perkins," replied Jute, " you didn't 'spect 
 we out lookin'. We wuz i)o'ful sleei)y en roll we haids en 
 er blankets en den 'fo' we knowed, hit sun-up. Folks say en 
 de (quarters dat ar si)ook ain' arter us." 
 
■MMMMMi 
 
 /I I'lSlTATlO.W 
 
 345 
 
 roun' a few 
 
 ■iunk?" Zany 
 
 "Who the <levil is hit arter then?" was the anL,n-y 
 response. 
 
 "How we know mars'r? We nel)er try ter kill eny 
 body." 
 
 " But I tell you I didn't kill him," expostulated their 
 nervous victim. 
 
 '• l)idn't name no names, Marse Perkins. I on'y knows 
 w'at I yeared folks tell 'bout spooks. Dey's mighty cur'us, 
 si)ooks is. Dey des 'i)ear to git a spite agin some folks en 
 dey ain' bodderin oder folks long ez dey ain' 'feered wid. I 
 'si)e(t a spook dat wuz 'feered wid, ^- 1 he dander up en 
 slam roun' permiscus. I des tek a ole bull by dc horns 'fo' 
 I 'fere wid a si)ook," and Jute's romi)anions grimted assent. 
 
 " Wat's the good o' yer bein' yere then?" Perkins asked, 
 taking a deep draught. 
 
 " ^^'elK now, Marse Perkins, you mu•^'n be onreasonl)ul. 
 W'at cud we do? U'e des riskin' de wool on we haids 
 stayin' yere fer comp'ny. Kf de si)ook come, spose he tink 
 we no i)usiness yere en des lay we out lak he kunjer yo* 
 dawg? We des tank you Marse Perkins fer anoder lil draj) 
 ler kej) we sperets out'n we shoon," and Jute shuddered 
 l)ortentously. 
 
 " Well," said Perkins, with attempted bravado, " I 
 rammed a j)iece o' silver down on the buUat in my gun. 
 'Iwix 'em both " — 
 
 '' Dar now, Marse Perkins, you des been 'j)osed on 'bout 
 dat sill)er business. Ole Unc' Sampson w'at libed on de 
 Simcoe j^lace nigh on er hun'erd yeahs dey say, tole me lots 
 'bout a spook dat bodilered um w'en he a boy, \\a\ back 
 ole Marse Simcoe shot at de man dat hanker fer he darter. 
 1 )e man put out en get drownded, but dat doan make no 
 dit'renre Unc' Sampson say, kaze ole Marse Smic.oe do he 
 bes' ter kill der man. He sorter hab kill m he heart en 
 I nc' Sampson low a spook know w'at gwine on in er man's 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 T ^ I 
 
 ■: A 
 
 ! C 
 
nnni^ 
 
 34C> 
 
 ".w.« r.o{:" 
 
 1! 
 
 ,'i! 
 
 '"'!!;: 
 
 »f 
 
 jlil 
 
 III:- I 
 
 I 
 
 i ( > 
 
 illj 
 
 I 
 
 j|:i j 
 
 in'erds, eii dey des goes fcr de man dat wanter kill um on 
 de sly, tMi not dose dat kill in fa'r fight, Ole Unc' Sampson 
 po'ful on spooks. lie libet' so long he get ter be sorter 
 ;;pook hesef, en dey say he talk ter iini haf de time 'fo' he 
 kinerdes snuf out'n lak a can 1." 
 
 '• He uuz a silly old fool," growled Perkins, with a per- 
 ceptible tremor in his voice. 
 
 " Spect he wuz 'b;nit some tings," resumed Jute, " but 
 know spooks, he sut'ny did. He say ole Marse Simcoe 
 useter plug lead en silver right froo dat man dat want he 
 darter, en dar v.'as do hole en de light shin'in' froo hit. But 
 de spook ain' min'in' a lil ting lak dat, he des come on all 
 de same snoopin' roun' artcr de ole man's darter. Den one 
 mawnin' de ole man lay stiff en daid in he baid, he eyes 
 starin' open ez ef he see sump'n he cudn't stan' no how. 
 Dat wuz de las' oh dat ar spook, Unc' Sampson say, en he 
 say spook's cur'us dat away, ^^''en dey sats'fy dere grudge 
 dey lets up en dey doan foUer de man dey down on kaze 
 (ley on'y po'r in de place whar de man 'lowed ter kill um." 
 
 Perkins took a mental note of this very imi)ortant limita- 
 tion of ghostly persecution, and resolved that if he had any 
 more trouble all the crops in the State would not keep him 
 within the haunted limit. 
 
 He whiled away the time by aid of his jug and Job-like 
 comforters till it began to grow late and he drowsy. 
 
 Suddenly Jute exclaimed, " Hi ! Marse Perkins, w'at dat 
 light dancin' up yon'er by de grabeyard?" 
 
 The overseer rose with a start, his hair rising also as he 
 saw a fitful jack-o'-lantern gleam, appearing and disappearing 
 on the cemetery hill. As had been expected, he obeyed 
 his impulse, pouring down whiskey until he speedily rendered 
 himself utterly helpless ; but while his intoxication disabled 
 him physically, it produced for a time an excited and dis- 
 ordered condition of mind in which he was easily imposed 
 
// r/s/r.tT/ox. 
 
 347 
 
 ns, with a per- 
 
 u<j and Tob-like 
 
 upon. Jutt- shook him and adjured him to get 11]), siiying, 
 " I years (juar soun's comin' (Us way." 
 
 When satisfied that their victim could make no resistance, 
 Jute and companions pretended to start away in terror. 
 Perkins tried to implore them to remain, but iiis lips seemed 
 paralyzed. A few monients later a strange grouj) entered 
 tlie cottage — five figures dressed in Federal uniforms, hands 
 and faces white and ghastly, and two carrying white cavalry 
 sabres. Each one had its finger on its lips, but Perkins was 
 beyond speech. In unspeakable horror he stared vacantly 
 before him and remained silent and motionless. The 
 ghostly shapes looked at him fixedly for a brief time, then 
 at one another, and solemnly nodded. Next, four took him 
 up and bore him out, the fifth following with the jug. At 
 the door stood an immovably tall form, surmounted by a 
 cavalry hat and wrapped in a long army overcoat. 
 
 " l.eftenant Scoville ! " gasped Perkins. 
 
 rhe figure, as if the joints of its back were near the 
 ground, made a portentous inclination of assent and then 
 pointed with another white sabre to the hill, leading the 
 way. Perkins tried to shout for help, but his tongue seemed 
 powerless, as in fact it was, from terror and liquor combined. 
 He felt himself carried swiftly and, as he thought, surely, 
 to some terrible doom. 
 
 /\t last his bearers stopped, and Perkins saw the mounds 
 of the Union dead rising near. He now remembered in 
 a confused way that one more grave had been dug th;in had 
 j)roved necessary, and he uttered a low howl as he felt him- 
 self lowered into it. Instantly the tall figure which ai>peared 
 to direct every thing threatened him with a ghostly sabre, 
 and an utter paralysis of unspeakable dread fell upon him. 
 
 For a few moments they all stood around and pointed at 
 him with ghostly while fingers, then gradually receded until 
 out of sight. After a tmie iVrkins began to get his voice, 
 
34« 
 
 M/SS LOU.'' 
 
 \\\ \ 
 
 Iff III!' 
 
 it 
 
 when suddenly liis tormentors appeared in terril)le guise. 
 I'/uh white, ghostly face was ligiited uj) as by a tongue of 
 tire ; terrible eyes gleamed from under wide crowned cav- 
 alry hats and a voice was heard, in a sepulchral whisper, 
 *• Nex' time we come fer you, we bury you ! " 
 
 At this instant came a flash of lightning, followed by a 
 tremendous claj) of thunder. 'I'hc jaws of tiie figures 
 dropped, the bu' >ing • linters of light-wood they carried 
 drojtping down i;;V.;. th. ijrave, and on its half lifeless occu- 
 l)ant. 'i'hc ghosts jiow di^'i.ppeared finally — in lact took to 
 their heels ; all except Chur.k, who secured the jug, nodded 
 thrice i)ortentously at Perkins and then retired also, not 
 a little shaken in his nerves, but sufficiently self-controlled 
 to rally his panic-stricken followers and get them to remove 
 their disguises before \vrai)ping their heads in blankets. 
 Having removed and hidden all traces of the escapade he 
 hooted for the alert Zany, who had been tremblingly on the 
 wat( h in s]iite of her knowledge of what was going on. As 
 she fled with Chunk before the coming storm she gasped 
 between the gusts, *' I declar, C.-hiuik, sech doin's gwine ter 
 brung a judgment." 
 
 Kven Chunk inclined to this view for a time, as the light- 
 ning blazed from sky to earth, and the thunder cracked and 
 roared overhead. The rain poured in such torrents that he 
 feared Perkins might be drowned in the grave where he had 
 been placed. As for Aun' Jinkey, she stared at her unex- 
 pected visitors in speechless peri)!exity and terror until the 
 fury of the tempest had jxissed and their voices could be 
 heard. 
 
UNCLE Li's Til A II EXHORTS. 
 
 349 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 UNCLE LUSIHAH KXHORTS. 
 
 L** 
 
 (loin's gwinc ter 
 
 '^T^HF^ heavy thunder shower which came and passed 
 X ([uirkly, combined with a (onsciousncss ol" "ir 
 high-handed performances, so awed Chimin and V:.v\\ -av- 
 oi)pressed them with misgivings that they were e\;, neiy 
 reticent, even to Ann' Jinkey. Chunk apj>eared j).. km-, ily 
 ignorant of the ghostly disturbances, trying to sa^ uucon- 
 cernedly, *' I foun' hit a orful long en skecry trai, ' ^i de 
 I'n'on lines en I says ter mysef, ' I)e Vanks fin' me ilown 
 yere quicker ner I fin' dem up Norf. I )ey be comin' (lis 
 away agin sho'." 
 
 " I des tells you we all git whip nigh ter daith ef you ain' 
 mo' keerful,'* said Ann' Jinkey, solemnly. " I kyant stan' 
 de goin's on. I gwme ter j)ieces ev'y day en nights git'n 
 wusser'n de; days. He gust ober en you bettah light out. 
 VA Zany missed dey come yere lookin' fer her." 
 
 They needed no urging to depart, for Zany was now as 
 scared as Chunk had ever wished her to be, but her terrors 
 were taking a form which inclined her to cling to the old 
 landmarks rather than risk she knew not what, in running 
 away. As she 'xwfX Chunk were stealing towards the kitciien 
 a flash ('^^ lightnuig from the retiring storm revealed a startling 
 figure — tha'; of Perkins, drenched and bedraggled, his eyes 
 almost starting from their sockets as he staggered towards 
 his cottage. Chunk's courage at last gave way ; he turned 
 and fled, leaving Zuny in the lurch. Frightened almost to 
 
 •A I 
 
 1 
 
r 
 
 I)i!li! 
 
 
 I'liii 
 
 «'i| 
 
 I !... 
 
 j I 
 
 350 
 
 A//SS LOi', 
 
 the point of hysterics, she crept to her bed and shook till 
 morning, resolving meantime to have done with Chunk and 
 all his d(jings. The next day Mrs. Baron found her the 
 most diligent and faithful of servants. 
 
 Perkins reached his door and looked '\\\\.o the dark 
 entrance, the gusts iKU'ing blown out the light. He shook 
 his head, muttered something unintelligible, and then bent 
 his uncertain steps to the tavern. The next morning Mr. 
 Haron suspected where he was and went to see him. The 
 overseer was found to be a [)itiable spectacle, haggard, 
 trembling, nervous in the extreme, yet sullen and reticent 
 and res(3lutc in his purpose never to set foot on the planta- 
 tion again. Mr. Baron then closed all business relations 
 and sent over the man's belongings. Perkins became a 
 ])erplexing problem to Mr. Baron and his household and 
 a terrible tradition to the negroes, who regarded him as a 
 haimted man. Kvery day and night passed in (juietness 
 after his departure enabled them to breathe more freely and 
 to become more assured that he '' wuz de on'y one de 
 spooks arter." 
 
 Chunk felt that he had disgraced himself by running away 
 and leaving Zany, and did not venture back till the second 
 night after the culmination of his schemes. He found Jute 
 and his associates scared, sullen and inclined to have little 
 to do with him in their present mood. Then he hooted in 
 vain for Zany. The girl hearfl him but made no sign, 
 muttering, " Sence you runned away en lef me I'se done 
 wid runnin' away. You toot in' lak a squinch-owl en kin 
 kep comp'ny wid squinch-owls." 
 
 Only Aun' Jinkey gave him food and a sort of fearful 
 welcome, and poor Chunk found himself at last a very 
 unhappy and skulking outlaw. 
 
 Mr. Baron gradually rallied under his increased responsi- 
 bilities and resolved to be his own overseer. Although an 
 
I'mi.L i.rsriiAii exhorts. 
 
 351 
 
 and shook till 
 
 ith Chunk and 
 
 found her the 
 
 into the dark 
 rju. He shook 
 , and then bent 
 xt morning Mr. 
 
 see him. The 
 -tacle, haggard, 
 en and retic<.'nt 
 
 on the |)lanta- 
 usiness relations 
 rkins became a 
 
 household and 
 arded him as a 
 ed in quietness 
 
 more freely and 
 
 le on'y one de 
 
 [)y running away 
 
 till the second 
 
 He found Jute 
 
 d to have litde 
 
 \\ he hooted in 
 
 jmade no sign, 
 
 me I'se done 
 
 lich-owl en kin 
 
 sort of fearful 
 at last a very 
 
 iased responsi- 
 Although an 
 
 exacting master, the negroes knew he was not a severe one 
 if they did their work fairly well. The spook scare had 
 given Uncle Lusthah renewed influence and he used it in 
 behalf of peace and order. '* Oiu* fren Miss Lou, sick," he 
 urgetl. " Wii mek her trouble en \vc nick (jursels trouble ef 
 we (loan go on })eac'ble. What kin we do eny way at dis 
 yer time? l)e Norf fightin' fcr us en hit all 'pen' on dt; 
 Norf. We mus' kep :. gwine e/ we is till de times en sea- 
 sons ob de I^awd is 'vealed." 
 
 And so for a period, quiet again settled down on the old 
 plantation. Mrs. W'hately an:l Aun' Jinkey nursed Miss 
 Lou into a slow, languid convalescence, till at last she was 
 able to sit in an easy chair on tiie i>ia//.a. This she would 
 do by the hour, with a sad, apathetic look on her thin face. 
 She was greatly changed, her old rountled outlines had 
 shrunken and -she looked frail enough for the wintls to blow 
 away. The old, fearless, spirited look in her blue eyes had 
 departed utterly, leaving only an expression of settled sad- 
 ness, varied l)y an anxious, expectant gaze, suggesting a 
 lingering hope tiiat some one might come or something 
 happen to break the dreadful silence which began, she felt, 
 when Scoville fell from his horse in the darkening forest. 
 It remained unbroken, and her heart sunk into more hope- 
 less despondency daily. Aun' Jinkey and Zany were charged 
 so sternly to say notiiing to disturb the mind of their young 
 mistress that they obeyed. She was merely given the impres- 
 sion that Perkins had gone away of his own will, and this 
 was a relief. She supposed C'hunk had returned to his 
 Union friends and this also l)ecame the generally accepted ' 
 view of all except .\un' Jinkey. 
 
 Mrs. VVhately < ame to spend part of the time at the Oaks 
 and part on her own [)lantation^ where her presence was 
 needed. Her devotion would have won Miss Lou's whole 
 
 * 
 
 heart but for the girl's ever present consciousness of Mad 
 

 f '; 
 
 
 1 '* 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 hi 
 
 r, 
 
 I'l 
 
 352 
 
 M/SS LOU,'" 
 
 W'hatcly in the backj^Touiid. 'I'lu* mother now had the tnrt 
 to say nothing' about him except in a natural and general 
 way, oecasionally trying the experiment of reading eMrai ts 
 from his brief letters, made up, as they were, chielly of 
 ardent messages to his (otisin. These Miss I,ou received 
 in silenre and unfeigned apathy. 
 
 Tht; resi)ite and (|uiet could not last very long in these 
 culminating months of the war. Without much warning 
 even to llie negroes, who appeared to have a sort of tele- 
 graphic couununication throughout the region, a Union col- 
 umn fore ed its way down the distant railroad and made it 
 a temp«irary line of louunimication. Mr. I'aron suddenly 
 woke u|) to the fact that the nearest town was occu|)ied by 
 the Federals and that his human i)roperty was in a ferment. 
 A foraging party soon ap[)eared in the neighborhood and 
 even visited him, but his statement of what he had suffered 
 a\m\ the evident impoverishment of the place led the Union 
 officer to seek more inviting fields. 
 
 Partly to satisfy her own mind as well as that of her niece, 
 Mrs. Whately asked after S( oville. but < ould obtain no in- 
 form.ition. The troops in the vi( inity were of a different 
 organization, the leader of the party a curt, gri/./led veteran, 
 bent only on obtaining sujjplies. Miss Lou, sitting help- 
 lessly in her room, felt instinctively that she did not wish 
 even to sjieak to him. 
 
 To ("hunk, this Union advance was a godsend. He 
 immediately took his horse to the railroad town, sold it for 
 a small sum, and found employment at the station, where 
 his great strength securetl him good wages. He could 
 handle with ease a barrel akin to himself in shape and size. 
 
 Uncle Lusthah suddenly found immense responsil)ility 
 thrust upon him. \\\ the opinion of the slaves the time and 
 seasons he had predic ted and asked his flock to wait for 
 liad come. Negroes from other and nearer plantations 
 
UNCLE IMST/fA// EX//OKTS. 
 
 3S3 
 
 \N had iIk- tact 
 al and general 
 wading cN»ra( ts 
 LTc, chit'lly of 
 I, on rcrc'i\cd 
 
 ,• long in these 
 much warnnig 
 
 a sort of lele- 
 n, a I'nion c ol- 
 id and made it 
 I'.aron snddenly 
 ,'as orcMpied by 
 as in a fernK-nt. 
 ^'hhorhood and 
 
 he had suffered 
 led the Union 
 
 \\M of her niece, 
 |l obtain no in- 
 j of a different 
 bri//.led veteran, 
 L sitting help- 
 Ic did not wish 
 
 godsend. He 
 
 ^own, sold it for 
 
 station, where 
 
 He could 
 
 [hape and size. 
 
 responsibility 
 bs the time and 
 l)ck to wait for 
 Irer plantations 
 
 were thronging to the town, and those at the Oaks were 
 ra|)idly forming the purpose to do likewise. 'I'hey only 
 waited the satiction of tiu'ir religious teacher to go almost 
 in a body. The old preacher was satisfied they would soon 
 go any way, unless inducements and virtual freedom were 
 offered. Me therefore sought Mr. i5aron and stated the 
 case to him. 
 
 The old i)lanter would listen to nothing. He was too 
 honorable to temj)ori/.e and make false promises. " Bah !" 
 he said, irritably, " the Yanks will soon be driven off as they 
 were before. I can't say you are free ! I can't give you a 
 share in the crops ! It's contrary to the law of the State 
 and the whole proper order of things. I wouldn't do it 
 if I could. What would my neighbors think? Wiiat would 
 I think of myself? What a fine condition I'd be in after 
 the Yanks are all driven from the country ! No, I shall 
 >tand or fall with the South and maintain the institutions of 
 my fathers. If you people leave me now and let the crops 
 go to waste you will soon find yourselves starving. When 
 you come whining back I'll have nothing to feed you 
 with." 
 
 Uncle Lusthah cast an imploring look on Miss Lou where 
 she sat in her chair, with more interest expressed in her 
 wan face than she had shown for a long time. 
 
 " Uncle Lusthah," she said earnestly, " don't you leave 
 me. As soon as I am able I'll buy you of uncle and set 
 you free. Then you can always work for me." 
 
 *' I doan wanter V be you young mistis, I sut'ny doan, ner 
 der ole place whar I ai'ays libed. But freedom sweet, young 
 mistis, en I wanter feel 1 free befo' I die." 
 
 "You shall. Uncle Lusthah. You ha\'e earned your 
 freedom, anyway." 
 
 '' Tut, tut, Louise, that's no way to talk," said her uncle 
 testily. 
 
 V 
 
r I 
 
 354 
 
 'M//.V.V LOU/' 
 
 
 <|! fj 
 
 .'( 
 
 ; ( . 
 
 ■M 
 
 mm 
 
 1 1 
 
 The old slave looked from one to the other sorrowfully, 
 shook his head and slowly retired. 
 
 "Remember what I said," Miss Lou called after him, and 
 then sunk bark in her chair. 
 
 Uncle Lusthah had to relate the result of his < onference, 
 and the consecjuence was an immediate outbreak of a reck- 
 less, alienated spirit. 'I'liat afternoon the field hands paid 
 no attention to Mr. Baron's orders, and he saw that slaves 
 from other plantations were present. Tncle Lusthah sat at 
 his door with his head I)owe(l on his breast. His jieople 
 would listen to him no more, and he himself was so divided 
 in his feelings that he knew not what to say. 
 
 "Hit maybe de Lawd's doin's ter set I le people free," 
 he muttered, " but somehow I kyant 'arunj; mysef ter lebe 
 dat po' sick chile. Ole mars'r en ole nnss kyant see en 
 woan see, en dat lil (bile w'at stan' up fer us in de 'stremity 
 ob triberlation be lef wid no oni- ter do fer her. 1 berry 
 ole en siiO' in my jinls en I ( ud die peaceful ef 1 know 
 T free; \m\. hit 'pe.ns thai de Lawd say ter me, ' rn( le 
 Lust'. ah, stay right Nt-re iii look arlir d.it lil sick lam'. I)eu 
 I mek you free w'eu i\v light lime ( ome.' " 
 
 llncle Lusthah soon had the peac e of the martyr who ha 
 chosen his course. Mr. IJaron also sat on his veranda with 
 head bowed upon his breast. He too had chosen his course, 
 and now in consequence was sunk in more bitter and muose 
 protest than ever. I'-ver.ts were beyond 'lis control and lu 
 knew it, but he woul<l neither yield nor change. This was 
 the worst that had yet befallen him. Hlac k ruin stared him 
 in the face and he stared ba( k with gloomy yet resolute eye .. 
 " I will go down with n)y old colors flying," he resf)lved, and 
 that was the end of it. 
 
 His wife was with him in sympathy, but her indomitable 
 sj)irit w(^uKl ;iot be (rushed. She was almost ubiquitoii- 
 among the house iind yard slaves, aweing them into a suh 
 
I'xci.r. i.rsrir.Mi iixiioh'i's. 
 
 355 
 
 icr sorrowfully, 
 after hini, aiul 
 
 his conference, 
 
 )reak of ^ r^'*'^ 
 icld hands paid 
 saw that slaves 
 ^. I ,nsthali sat at 
 si. His i.eopU- 
 If was s(J ilivided 
 
 ilo i)e(>])le tree," 
 g mysef ter lehe 
 iiss kyant see en 
 MS in de 'slreniity 
 iVrher. 1 In'rry 
 (cful ef 1 know 
 ■ ti-r nu\ 'rmU- 
 lsi(kUun'. H'-^ 
 
 |c' martyr who l^^s 
 his veranda with 
 hosen his course, 
 
 Ihittcr andnruose 
 
 s control and lu 
 han^c. 'HVis was 
 L ruin stared bin- 
 yet resolute eyes. 
 ' he resolved, au'l 
 
 \y lur indomilahl'' 
 idinost ubiquitous 
 
 iheuj into a sub 
 
 mission which they scarcely understood and Inwardly < ha fed 
 at. She even went to the ijuarters and produced evident 
 uneasiness by her stern, cutting words. None dared rejj'y 
 to her, but when the spell of her presence was removed all 
 resumed their (onfused antl exultant deliberations as to their 
 future course. 
 
 Ann' jinkey, sitting with Miss l-ou, scoffed at tlie idea of 
 going away. " Long e/ my chinily c(jrner en iriy i)ipe dar 
 I dar too," she said. " Dis freedom business so mux up I 
 kyant smoke hit out nohow." 
 
 Zany was in a ti-rribly divided state of mind. Were it not 
 for Miss Lou, she would have been ready enough to go. 
 especially as she had heard that ("hunk was at the railroad 
 town. 1 ler restless spirit cravi'd excitement and freedom: 
 a townful of admirers, with Chimk thrown in. was an ex- 
 ceedingly alluring prospect. With all her faults, she had a 
 heart, and the sick girl had won her a.ffection imstintedly. 
 When therefore Miss l,ou sunnnoned her and i'i\cd her sad, 
 pleading blue eyes ujuin her, the girl threw her apron o\cr 
 her head and began to cry. " i)oan say a word, Miss Lou," 
 ■ihe sobbi'd, 'Sloan a\ mc not ter go ka/e ef you doi-s \ 
 kyant go." 
 
 ** Sech foolishness!" ejaculated Ann' Jinkey witii a dis- 
 dainful snilT. ''She K'be you dis lak a c.U d.it snoo|) off 
 cnyvvhar vw arter eny body w'.u got mo' villKs. W'at she 
 keer?" 
 
 I )own came the apron, revealing black eyes blazing through 
 the tears which were dashed right and lefc as /any cried, 
 '■ \'ou ole himage, w'at you keer? \'ou tink ;i hun'cnl times 
 mo' ob y*>' pif>e ni'r Miss Lou. Long e/ \()U kin smoke en 
 ])rojeck in dat ar ole cabin hole \ou woan lebe h.it 'less y«>u 
 turned out. I des gwine ter stay out'n spite en (loan wanter 
 go a hun'erd mile ob dat gran'boy ob yoinii." 
 
 "There /any," said Miss Lou gently, holding out her 
 
 \\ 
 
 L^ 
 
35^> 
 
 'M/As.y LOUr' 
 
 m 
 
 
 iJii 
 
 li. 
 
 M\' 
 
 m 
 
 hainl. ' I iiiidcrstand you and Ann' Jinkey both, and you 
 both are going to stay out of love for nie. J reckon you 
 won't be sorry in the end." 
 
 Up went the apron again and Zany admitted, " I kyant 
 lebe you, Miss Lou, I des kyant," as siie rushed away to 
 in(hilge in the feminine reHef of tears without stint. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. IJaron passed a sleepless night, for even the 
 (juestion of food would be iiroblematical if all the able- 
 bodied men and women on the place went away. In the 
 early dawn there were ominous sounds at the (luarters, and 
 as the light increased a spectacle which filled the okl i)!anter 
 and his wife with rage was revealed. The ([uarters were 
 empty and all were trooj)ing towards the avenue with bundles 
 containing their belongings. This was to be expected, but 
 the act which excited the direst indignation was the hitching 
 of the only pair of mules left on the place that were worth 
 anything to the old family carriage. ;\un' Suke was wad- 
 dling t(nvards this with the feeling that a " char'ot wuz 
 waitin' fer her now, sho I " 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. haron looked at each otiier in fjuick, 
 (omprehensive symjjathy, then hastily and partially dressed. 
 Mr. Haron took his revolver while " ole miss" snatched a 
 sharp carving knife from tlie dining-room. Hy the time they 
 reached the scene, .Ann' Suke filled the bac^k seat of the carri- 
 age and the rest of the space was biing filled with babies. 
 
 •'Stop tliat ! " shouted Mr. Haron. '• He fore I'll Kt >ou 
 take my mules I'll shoot 'em both." 
 
 ' Oie miss" wasted no time in threats, — she simply < ut the 
 traces and there were Ann' Suke and the babies stran.led. 
 Tiie negroes drew together on one side and master and 
 mistress on the other. The Tkcs of die latter were aglow 
 with anger ; on th" countenances of the former were mingled 
 l)eri)le\ity and siillen defiance, but the old habit of defer- 
 ence still ha<l its restraining inlluence. 
 
both, anil yon 
 I reckon you 
 
 Ited, " I kyant 
 •ushcd away to 
 t stint. 
 
 ht, for even the 
 f all the able- 
 
 away. In the 
 ic (jnarters, and 
 
 the old i)lanter 
 3 (juarters were 
 uie with bundles 
 )C exi)ected, but 
 was the hitching 
 1 that were worth 
 
 Suke was wad- 
 
 ■X "char'ot wuz 
 
 otiKT in <[uick, 
 Kirtiallv dressed. 
 i>s " snati hed a 
 liy ihe time they 
 Iseat of the ( arri- 
 l with ba\)ies. 
 |lnrc ni let you 
 
 K' simply cut the 
 Ibabies stranled. 
 land master and 
 latter were aglow 
 licrwere mingled 
 habit of liefer- 
 
 
 ^^,^1,^^ 
 
 
 ^^^^^^ 
 
 
 ^^^1 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 r.V(7./ 
 
 . i.rsriiMf 
 
 rXllORTS. 
 
 
 
 .357 
 
 ••(;(. 
 
 uid 
 
 starve ; 
 
 md Ic 
 
 a\'c us 
 
 to 
 
 -larvc, i 
 
 \t»M 
 
 will," 
 my 
 
 shouted 
 
 Mr. 
 
 lianjn 
 
 " but 
 
 you shall 
 
 steal n(jnc 
 
 ol 
 
 l)roperty 
 
 1 ) 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Angry 
 
 mutterings 1 
 
 )egan 
 
 among 
 
 the 
 
 negroes, 
 
 and 
 
 it 
 
 were 
 
 hard to s 
 
 ;av 1 
 
 low tho 
 
 sriMic 
 
 would 
 
 h.ut' 
 
 ciidi'd i 
 
 f old 
 
 I 
 
 ^Mclc 
 
 Lusthah had not suddenly aijjjcared between the oi)i)i)sing 
 j)arties, and held up his iiand im])ressively. 
 
 " I gib lip my charnce ter be free," he began with sim[)lc 
 " My body 'longs ter you yit. mars'r en misus : 
 
 (lILT 
 
 nity 
 
 but not my si)eret. Out'n dat I guinr ter speak i)lain fer 
 (le tear ob man clean gone fum me. Mars'r, w'at I say 
 ter you? Lak ole I'haro, you t'ink yo'sef bigger'n de 
 Lawd. VX you'd done sp(3ke ter di" bans en say ' des go 
 home en dar ile crops en shar' togeder ' dey ud stayed en 
 wucked fer vou 'tented like, but vou des talk lak ole I'haro. 
 Now de people g\^ine en you kyanl stop dem. We knowed 
 'bout de prokermalion ob de gre't linkum. W'c know ue 
 bin free dis long time. We al'ays know you no right ter 
 keep us slabes 
 
 I)i^ 
 
 ^er 
 
 (iod' 
 
 s wor 
 
 I'. Hit don't 'lon-r ter 
 
 you en misus. H^ ain' stoppin' ter 'suit you 'bout He 
 doin's. I*!f you s'mitted ter lie will you'd a gwine 'long 
 easy lak ^\v crops grow in sj)ring-time. .Now hit des de 
 same ez ef )ou plant de crops in de fall en 'si)ect de Lawd 
 
 ter turn de winter inter summer 
 
 ter pi 
 
 ease you. 
 
 I i)er 
 
 rv 
 
 ole en had 'speran« e. I'se prayed all de long night en de 
 l,awd'sgib me W\ see mler de Cuter. Lak Moses I may 
 neber git in de promised Ian' ob freedom, but hit dar en 
 yon kyant kej) k\v people out'n hit. Kf you doan bend ter 
 He will, you breaks. W'en all de ban's gone en <le IliTs is 
 waste t'ink obi-r di- trufe. He Lawd did'n mek dis yer 
 worl' fer suit you eii misus. P'raj)s ile t'ink e/ nuu h ob 
 dem p(/ souls dar (pointing at the negroes) e/ ob yourn. 
 hidn't I Stan' wid deni w'at die ter mek us free? Her 
 blood watch dis hull Ian' en I feels hit in my heart dat de 
 
 \ 
 
 w 
 
358 
 
 ".1//.V.V rot' 
 
 % 
 
 \\ \ 
 
 Ct! 
 
 I|j| 
 
 LawsI'll bnin^ up .1 ( r.i|) dis l.in' ncbcr saw I)cfu'. Please 
 reckcrnicmbcr, iiiars'r cii misiis, dc grc't wuck j1) cic J.awd 
 ji'.vinc right along dcs c/ cf you ain' <lar." 
 
 Tlicn the (jld man turned to the negroes and in his loud, 
 melodious voice concluded, " I gil)s you one mo' 'zortation. 
 You /.v free, but e/ 1 say so ofun you ain' tree ter do foolish- 
 ness. Tek yo' wibes en chil'un ; (ley yourn. Tek yo' 
 clo'es ; you arned um en much mo', but you kyant tek de 
 mules en de ker'age : (ley mars'r's. ('(O en wuck lak men 
 en wimmin fer hon'st wages en show y(ju fit ter be free. 
 Re( kermeml)er ;ill I tole you so ofun. De I,awd go wii! 
 you en kep you in de way ob life everl.;s'in'." 
 
 The better element among the negroes j)revailed, for they 
 felt that they had had a spokesman who voiced their best 
 and deepest feelings. One after another cam;! and ivrui\; 
 the hand of the old man and departed. To " iMiani ' ai '' 
 his wife few noui hsafed a glance, for they had ( ui the c...!ii 
 of human syuipathy. Many messages of affectioi., li.o'.»\ er, 
 were left for Miss I,ou. The mothers took ti^e babi' s L^ m> 
 the carriage, Ann' Suke was h<'l|>ed out ;'n(l ^u.- suiWily 
 waddled down the avenue \i('"; the rest, By the time she 
 reached the main road her nowris ^^i locomotion gave out, 
 causing her to drop half !-)ysteri» \i), 1;\ le wayside. LkHUf 
 counselled her lo go back, saying they would come lor h.-r 
 before long ; but pride, shame and exhaustion made it 
 almost as difficult to go back as to go forward and so slu' 
 was left lamenting. With stern, intlexible faces, master and 
 mistress watched tlieir property depart, then returned to tlu 
 house, while I'ncle Luslhah mended the harness temporarily 
 and took the ( arriage back to its place. Standing alool. 
 /any had wal( bed the scene, wavering between her intense 
 cUsirc to i,o and her loyalty to Miss Lou. 'I'h.* si( k gir! 
 ha'l < >n(iuert(l, the ne:ress winning an heroic victory over 
 h -i elf \\h-i\ she entered the back door of the mansion. 
 
 li> 
 
V l)clu'. IMcasc 
 ck jb de Lawd 
 
 ind in liis loud, 
 ' mo' 'zortation. 
 ;i; tcr do foolisli- 
 ourn. Tek yo' 
 )\\ kyant tck dc 
 1 wiu k kik men 
 fit tcr l>c tree. 
 )c I-;i\vd go will 
 
 fcvailed, for ihcy 
 .oiced tlK'ir best 
 cam;? and .vrni\; 
 
 o ** i*haro 
 
 ai ( 
 
 u 
 
 ad c.ui lilt 
 
 0( lioi., hoWi '-'W 
 .10 babi':s l»^!i*. 
 Mid Ml.- sui'ivily 
 }y tlie time ^iie 
 otion gave out, 
 wavside. Iktuv- 
 1 come lor h:r 
 uslioii made it 
 u-(l and so she 
 CCS, master au<l 
 returned to tlu 
 ness temporarily 
 Standing aK^ol. 
 een her intense 
 Th.- sick gii 
 roic victory over 
 (if the mansion. 
 
 UNCLE LUSTlIAff EXIIOKTS. 
 
 359 
 
 her face rigid from the struggle she had passed through, she 
 was in no lamb-like mood. Neither was her mistress, who 
 was angrier than she had ever been in her life. 
 
 " Well," she said to Zany in cold, cutting tones, " what 
 are you doing here? Looking around for something to carry 
 off before you go also?" 
 
 Stung to the (}uick by this implied charge \\\(\. lack of 
 appreciation of her great self-sacrifice, Zany replied, hotly, 
 " I. done wid you, misus. 1 tek no mo' orders funi you. I 
 stay fer sump'n you (loan know not'n 'bout — lub, but lub fer 
 Miss Lou. Ef she kyant 'tect me 'gin you den 1 go." 
 

 360 
 
 "A//SS LOCf." 
 
 IlllHi 
 
 1, 
 
 
 I 
 
 :!^ 
 
 ki 
 
 CHAITKR XXXVII. 
 
 A NEW ROUTINK. 
 
 IT certainly was a dismal, shrunken household that Mrs. 
 Haroii i)resided over that morning. Ann' Jinkey came 
 to the rescue and prepared a meagre breakfast. Miss Lou's 
 room being on the side of the house farthest from the scenes 
 of die early morning, she had slej)! on till Zany wakened 
 her. Siie listeneil in a sort of dreary apathy to all that had 
 occurred, feeling that she was too weak i)hysically and too 
 broken-spirit*, d to intiTlere. She also had the imj)ression 
 that it would have been of no use — tb>t her uncle ansl aunt 
 were so fixed ii; their ways anil views that nothing but harsh 
 experience couKl teat !» them anything. In answer to 
 Zany's ai)i)eal for protection against " ole miss " Miss Lou 
 said, '* We won't say an thitig more about it now till you 
 get over your hui*. fe^li^^^, wh'nh are very natural. ( )f 
 course my aunt can't punish you — that's out of the cjucstion 
 now, but by and by I reckon you will do for her out of love 
 for me when you see it will save me trouble. Vou have 
 ilone a goc d. imselfisii a( t in staving with mo, and having 
 begun so well, you will keep on in the same way. .After all 
 of the rest get free yot; will, too. What's more, when I 
 ( ome into my property I'll make free all who stand by me 
 now." 
 
 So Zany brought lu r up a nice little breakfast and was 
 comforted. 
 
 When at last the young girl svith weak, uncertain btejjs 
 
A XKli' NOCTIX^ 
 
 361 
 
 hold that Mrs. 
 n' Jiiikey came 
 St. Miss Lou's 
 from tlie scenes 
 Zany wakened 
 t(j all that had 
 ivsically and too 
 the impression 
 uncle and aunt 
 ihini' but harsh 
 In answer to 
 liss " Miss Lou 
 ii now till you 
 V natural. < >l 
 of the (lucstion 
 lur out of love 
 lie. You have 
 lu . and having 
 way. .After all 
 more, when I 
 I land by me 
 
 la k last and was 
 
 luu«,ertain steps 
 
 (uime down to her easy chair on the piaz/a, she found her 
 uncle gloomily smoking, anil her aunt solacing her perturbed 
 mind with her chief resource — housekeeping affairs. Little 
 was said beyond a formal greeting. 
 
 As Miss Lou sat gazing vacantly and sadly down the 
 avenue, a huge figure appeared, making slow, painful jirog- 
 ress towards the house. At last Aun' Suke was recognized, 
 and the truth (lashed across the girl's mind that the Hit old 
 cook had found she could not get away. Finally the 
 woman sat down under a tree not far from the house, not 
 only overcome by heat and fatigue, but also under the 
 impression that she must open negotiations before she could 
 expect to be received. 
 
 "There," said Mr. Baron grimly, *' is one of them coming 
 i)ack already. They'll be sneaking, whining back when the 
 crojjs are spoiled and it's too late." 
 
 Miss Lou rose feebly and got an old sunshaile from the 
 hall. 
 
 " Louise, you are not able — I forbid it." 
 
 The girl fdt she hail strength to get to the old woman 
 but not enough to contend with her uncle, so she went 
 slowly down the steps witliout a word. Mr. Haron gnnvled, 
 *' I might as well speak to the wind as to anybody on the 
 place any more." 
 
 When Aun' Suke saw the girl coming to her she scrambled 
 to her feet, a*id holding up her hands ejaculated all sorts of 
 remorseful and dej)recatory comments. 
 
 " Welcome back," said Miss Lou kindly, wli mi in speak- 
 ing distance. "There, don't go on so. Sit down and I'll 
 sit down with you." She sunk at the foot of the tree and 
 leaned agaiast it panting. 
 
 " I des feels ez ef de yelh ud op'n en swaller me," began 
 the poor renegade, ([uivering with emotiiju. 
 
 *'I>on't talk so, Aun' Suke I'm not strong enough to 
 
 
3^2 
 
 •M//.S.V LOi\ 
 
 % 
 
 ^ 
 
 stand foolishness, ^'oll nill go l)a(k with me and slay with 
 Uncle Luslhah and Ann' jinki y and Zany. You will ((Xik 
 for us all just llu- same and by and by you will be as free as 
 I am." 
 
 " Well, Miss Lou, I (omin' back lak dc perdigous son, 
 'but ole miss ain' got no fatted calf fer me, ner you neider, 
 I rec^kon. I des feered on w'at ole miss say en do." 
 
 "Ann' .Suke," said the girl, taking the woman's great 
 l)la( k hand, "you stand by me and I'll stand by you. 
 ^vnl•n I gi't stronger we'll see what's best to be done. 
 Now 1 can't think. I don't know. I t)nly feci that we 
 must helj) one another till all is clearer." 
 
 Mrs. Baron accepted Aun' Suke's presence in the kitchen 
 agaii^ in grim silence. She believed it the earnest of the 
 s])fedy return of all the others and resolved to bide her 
 time when the Southern armies restored completely the old 
 order of things. 
 
 Mrs. WiuUely tlrove over during the day and was a'^ia^t 
 at what had occurred. 
 
 " 1 have kei)t the great majority of my hands by com ilia 
 lion and ' ^omising them a share in the crops. Indeed, I 
 had virtually to treat them as if free. It was either that or 
 ruin." 
 
 " \\'l1I," growled iier brother, *' yoti can't keep that i)a' c 
 and I wouKln't begin it." 
 
 *■ I can only do the best I (an, from day to day," sighetl 
 till' lad)', ''and I've been almost distracted." 
 
 .After showing her affectionate solicitude for Miss I-oti 
 s!ie returned, feeling that her presence at home was now 
 Ixiurly neeiled. 
 
 (iraduaily the lillle iiousehold began to adjust itself to tiie 
 new order of things, and day by day Mr. and Mrs. IJaro'i 
 were compelled to see that the few servants who minister- i! 
 t«i them were kepi at ih"ir tasks by an influence in wliii !i 
 
// .\7'7/' NOUTrhtE, 
 
 .V'.i 
 
 ami stay with 
 
 You will <o«)k 
 
 ill be as free as 
 
 pcrdigons son, 
 nor you nei'ler, 
 on (io." 
 
 wDUKin's great 
 
 staiul by you. 
 
 st to b'.' (lone, 
 
 ly feci that we 
 
 e in the kitchen 
 
 e earnest of the 
 
 ved to bide lu'r 
 
 npletely the old 
 
 / and was a:;hast 
 
 ;uuls by c-oncilui 
 |r(ri>s. Indev-'.l I 
 ;i^ either that ur 
 
 keep that pace 
 
 to ikiy," ^iiil^^^* 
 
 L for Miss 1-ou 
 home was now 
 
 Itljust itself to the 
 
 and Mrs. llavo'.i 
 
 who uuni^tei' ^1 
 
 Ihienco in wliii li 
 
 lliry had no part. Ahnost imperceptibly. Miss 1,om regained 
 lur stien;4th, yet was but tlie shadow of her former self, 
 (ixle iaistiiah gave his attention to the garden, already 
 getting weed-choked. The best he could hojx.- to do was 
 to keep up a meagre sui)ply of vegetables and Zany in the 
 c:o(^l of the day often gave him a helping hand. 
 
 Late one afternoon Miss I. on, feeling a little stronger, 
 went to Ann' finkey's cabin and sat down on the doorstej). 
 
 "O mannny," she sighed, " I'm so tired, I'm so tired; 
 yet I can do nothing at all." 
 
 "You po' lil (hile," groaned .\un' Jinkey, " how difernt 
 you looks ner w'en you fiis sot dar en wish sump'n hapi)en." 
 
 '* Oh," cried the girl almost despairingly, " too much has 
 happened ! too much has happened ! Mow can (lod let 
 such troubles come upon us?" 
 
 *' Kbcn Uncle Lusthah hab ter say he dunno. He say 
 he des gwine ter hole on twi-l de eiMid, t'u dat ail he kin 
 do." s 
 
 " (") mammy. I'm all at sea. I haven't any strength to 
 hold on and there doesn't seem anything to hold on to. 
 () mammy, mannny, do you think he's surely dead?" 
 
 " I feared he is," gnjaned .\un* jinkey. " Dey say he 
 spook ( onie arter Perkins en dat w'y de oberseer dared 
 out." 
 
 "Oh, horrible!" crietl the girl. "If his spirit could 
 come here at all would it lujt come to me instead of to that 
 brutal wretch ? (), mammy, I don't know which is wt)rse, 
 your religion or your superstition. S'oii lielieve in a (lod 
 whi> lets such things happen and you ran think my noble 
 friend would ( ome bai k here only to h( are a man like 
 I'erkins. It's all just horrible < ) Allan, Allan, are you so 
 lost to me that you < an never look good-will into my eyes 
 again ? " 
 
 Tears rushed to her eyes for the iirst time since she heard 
 
 II 
 
 \i\ 
 
m^. 
 
 mmm 
 
 i .1 
 
 3^>4 
 
 "j//.s'v /.or." 
 
 ifi; 
 
 iii 
 
 \m\'> 
 
 Hi! 
 
 the (IpiKlful tiflings, and she sobbed in her nianuny's arms 
 till exhausted. 
 
 'I'hat outburst of grief and the rehef of tears given l)y 
 kindly nature was the decisive point in Miss Lou's conva- 
 lescence. She was almost carried l)ack to her room and 
 slept till late the following day. When she awoke she felt 
 that her strength was returning, and with it came the cour- 
 age to take up the burdens of life, l-'or weeks it was little 
 more than the courage of a naturall) brave, conscientious 
 nature whi< h will not yield to the cowardice and weakness 
 of inaction. 'I'he value of work, of constant o( cupation, to 
 sustain and divert the mind, was speedily learned, (iradu- 
 ally she took the helm of out-door matters tVom her uik le's 
 nerveless hands. .She luul a good ileal of a battle in respect 
 to (!hunk. It was a sham one on the part of Zany, as the 
 girl well knew, for ("hunk's 'Mootin' " was missed terribly. 
 Mr. and Mrs. iJaron at first refused point-blank, to hear of 
 his returning. 
 
 "Uncle," said his ward gravely, " is only )our i)roj)erty 
 at stake? 1 can manage ("hunk, and through him i)erhaps 
 get others. I am not resj.onsible for changes whi( h I can't 
 help ; 1 am to blame if I sit down idly and helplessly and 
 do nothing better than fret or sulk. Your bitter words of 
 protest are not breatl and bring no money. For your sakes 
 as well as my own you must either act or let me act." 
 
 'i'he honorable old planter was tou( bed at his most sensi- 
 tive i)v)int, and reluctantly conceded, saying, ** Oh well, if 
 you think you can save any of your property out of the 
 wreck, emi)loy Chunk on your own resjx^nsibility." 
 
 So ("iiunk was reinstated in his granny's (ibin an«l given a 
 share in all he could raise and secure of the <Tops. The 
 negro was as shrewd as Jacob of old, but like the Hebrew 
 patriarch could do mu( h under the inspiration of his twofold 
 affection for Zany and his young mibtress. 
 
•/ AA ir Kotr/x/-:. 
 
 .'/'5 
 
 mammy s arms 
 
 tears given by 
 is Lull's conva- 
 
 luT rDom and 
 li awoke she fell 
 
 came tlie cour- 
 eeks it was little 
 e, conscientious 
 ce and weakness 
 It occupation, to 
 LMined. (iradu- 
 from lu'r uncle's 
 
 battle in res])ect 
 L of Zany, as the 
 I missed terribly. 
 
 )l;ink, to hear of 
 
 y )t)ur i)ro|)erty 
 i;;h him i)erhai)S 
 ;l'S whi( h I can't 
 1(1 helplessly and 
 bitter words of 
 I'or your sakes 
 me act." 
 I his most sensi- 
 ^, "Oh well, if 
 )erty out of the 
 bility." 
 
 ibm and given a 
 
 |tlii' (Tops. The 
 
 ike the Hebrew 
 
 )ii uf his twofold 
 
 Antl so the summer and early fall wore away. The rail- 
 road line of communication was maintained, and upon it 
 drifted away Mr. llaron's former slaves and the great majority 
 of the others in the neighborhood. The region in which the 
 ])!antation was situated was so remote and sparsely settled 
 that it was a sort of border land, un("laimed and imvisited 
 by any considerable bodies from either party. Rev. Dr. 
 Williams' congregation had shrunken to a handful. lie 
 officiated at one end (jf the church, and his plumj). black- 
 eyed daughter led the singing at the other, but it was 
 observed that she looked discontented rather than devo- 
 tional. She was keenly alive to the fact that there was not 
 an eligible man left in Hie parish. Uncle Lusthah |)atiently 
 drove the mules every clear Stmday morning and Mr. and 
 Mrs. Haron sat in the carriage whose springs ;\un' Suke had 
 sorely trietl ; but Miss Lou would not go with them. ;\fter 
 his readiness to marry her to her cousin she felt it would 
 be worse than mockery to listen lo Dr. Williams again. 
 
 Ihjt a deep, yet morbid spiritual change was taking place 
 in the girl. .As of old, she thought and brooded when her 
 hands were busy, and during her long, solitary evenings on 
 the pia/./a. Strange to say, she was drawing much o{ her 
 inspiration from a grave — the grave of a rough, profane 
 soldier whom she knew only as "V'arry.'' '['here was 
 something in his self-forgetful effort in her behalf, even when 
 in the mortal anguish of death, which appealed ty her most 
 powerfully. His heroism, expecting, ho|)ing for no reward, 
 became the finest thing in lur estimation :^\\c iiad ever wit- 
 nessed. Her own love taught her why Scoville was attracted 
 by her and became ready to do anything for her. "I'hat's 
 the old, old story," she mused, " ever sweet and new, yet 
 old as the worhl. I'oor N'arry was actuated by a purely 
 unselfish, noble impulse. ( )nly such an impulse can sustain 
 and ( arry me through my life. No, no, Mrs. Waldo, I can 
 
i\v: 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 Y 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■.^,'' 
 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 1^ |2.8 
 
 ^ m 
 
 *- i. 
 
 1.4 
 
 IIIIIM 
 ill ^ 
 
 2.0 
 
 1.6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 I.I 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1.25 
 
 
 '■" 
 
 
 — ► 
 
 ^ — . — 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 Va 
 
 ^ 
 
 '<5. 
 
 (^ 
 
 m 
 
 % > 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 ^>/ 
 
 y 
 
 # 
 
 ''» 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 # 
 
 \ 
 
 9) 
 
 4i>^ 
 
 
 \\ 
 
 ^i. 
 
 '^A 
 
 6^ 
 
 f<!^ 
 
 %^ 
 
 "^^ 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 

■ManrniijrgriMifcB-^ wm— i 
 
 Rt t 
 
 366 
 
 MfSS LOU. 
 
 If til: 
 
 iiDi 
 
 m 
 
 ii 
 
 Nif 
 
 il 
 
 ■'•I 
 
 IM 
 
 never become happy in making others happy. I can never 
 be happy again. The bullet which killed Allan Scoville 
 pierced my heart also and it is dead, but that poor soldier 
 taught me how one can still live and suft'er nobly, and such 
 a life must be pleasing to the only God I can worship." 
 
 All wondered at the change gradually taking place in the 
 girl. It was too resolute, too much the offspring of her 
 will rather than her heart to have in it much gentleness, but 
 it was observed that she was becoming gravely and patiently 
 considerate of others, even of their faults and follies. As 
 far "as possible, her uncle and aunt were allowed their own 
 way without protest, the girl sacrificing her own feelings and 
 wishes when it was possible. They at last began to admit 
 that meir niece was manifesting a becoming spirit of sub- 
 mission and deference, when in fact her management of their 
 affairs was saving them from an impoverishment scarcely to 
 be endured. 
 
 For Mrs. Whately the girl now had a genuine and strong 
 affection, chilled only by her belief that the plan in regard 
 to tlie son was ever in the mother's mind. So indeed it 
 was. The sagacious woman watched Miss Lou closely and 
 with feelings of growing hoj^e as well as of tenderness. The 
 girl was showing a patience, a strength of mind, and above 
 all, a spirit of self-sacrifice which satisfied Mrs. Whately 
 that she was the one of all the world for her son. 
 
 '* I do believe," she thought, " that if I can only make 
 Louise think it will be best, for us all as well as Madison, she 
 will yield. The spirit of self-sacrifice seems her supreme 
 impulse. Her sadness will pass away in time, and she 
 'would soon learn to love tlie father of her children. What's 
 more, there is something about her now which would hold 
 any man's love. See how her lightest wish controls those 
 who work for her, even that harum-scarum Zany." 
 
. I can never 
 Allan Scoville 
 at poor soldier 
 -.obly, and such 
 worship." 
 ng place in the 
 ffspring of her 
 gentleness, but 
 ly and patiently 
 md follies. As 
 owed their own 
 ,vn feelings and 
 Degan to admit 
 5 spirit of sub- 
 gement of their 
 lent scarcely to 
 
 ne and strong 
 )lan in regard 
 
 So indeed it 
 ou closely and 
 derness. The 
 nd, and above 
 
 Mrs. Whately 
 on. 
 
 :an only make 
 s Madison, she 
 her supreme 
 tune, and she 
 Idren. What's 
 ch would hold 
 controls those 
 iny." 
 
 A NEW ROUTIXE. 
 
 
 In the late autumn a long delayed letter threw Mrs. 
 Whately into a panic of fear and anxiety. A surgeon wrote 
 that her son had been severely wounded and had lost his 
 
 left arm but that he was doing well. 
 
 Here the author laid down his pen. In Mr. Roe's journal 
 under date of July ii, is an entry alluding to a conversation 
 with a friend. That conversation concerned the conclusion 
 of this book, and was, in effect, substantially the same as the 
 outline given by him in a letter, part o/ which is quoted as 
 follows : — 
 
 " It is not my ])urpose to dwell further du incidents con- 
 nected with the close of the war, as liie book may be 
 considered too long already. It only remains for me now 
 to get all my people happy as soon as possible. Zany and 
 Chunk ' make up,' and a good deal of thei'- characteristic 
 love-making will be worked in to relieve the rather sombre 
 state of things at this stage. Whately returns with his empty 
 sleeve, more of a liero than ever in his own eyes and his 
 mother's. Miss Lou thinks him strangely thoughtful and 
 considerate in keeping away, as he does, after a few short 
 visits at the Oaks. The truth is, he is wofully disappointed 
 at the change in his cousin's looks. This pale, listless, hollow- 
 eyed girl is not the one who set him to reading 'Taming 
 of the Shrew.' That her beauty of color and of oudine 
 could ever return, he does not consider ; and in swift revul- 
 sion of feeling, secretly pays court elsewhere. 
 
 " Mrs. Whately, however, makes up for her son's deficien- 
 cies. Utterly ignorant how affairs are shaping, she works by 
 her representations upon Miss Lou's sympathies until the 
 weary consent is wrung from the i)oor girl, -^ ' Nothing 
 matters to me any more ! If it makes you all happy — why 
 — then — But I must wait a year.' She feels that her 
 love for Allen Scoville will never be less, and that this 
 
368 
 
 **A//SS LOU.'' 
 
 V'i. 
 
 IHI^ 
 
 (■;■ 
 
 j >■ 
 
 s. 
 
 r 
 
 period of time is little enough to devote to him in silent 
 memory. 
 
 "The delighted aunt hastens to report to her son, who 
 stares rather blankly, for a lover, as he hears of this conces- 
 sion on his cousin's part, and without answer, he orders his 
 horse and rides furiously away. The ride is one that has 
 been very frequently taken since the young man's return, 
 and pretty soon he is in earnest conversation with the rosy- 
 cheeked, black-eyed daughter of Dr. Williams. There 
 seems to be very good understanding between the two, and 
 later, just at the final scene it will come out as effectively as 
 can be portrayed the startling news of their secret marriage. , 
 
 "The days go on. One afternoon in the late autumn, 
 Aun' Jinkey, smoking and * projeckin' ' as usual in her cabin, 
 has a vision whicn fairly sends her heart, as she will express 
 it, * right troo de mouf.* Was it a * spook,' or had the dead 
 really come back to life ? And I hear her exclaim, throwing 
 up her hands, ' Bress de Lawd, Marse Scoville, dat you ? 
 Whar you drap fum dis yere time? I doan almos' know 
 you widout de un'fo'm ! ' 
 
 " But the * vision ' will not stop to narrate to the old aunty 
 of his capture, imprisonment and illness, his release and 
 hurried journey North. He catches sight of the slight 
 figure of Miss Lou in the distance near the run, and in a 
 moment is beside her. * Only death could keep me from 
 seeking you and living for you always, did I not tell you, my 
 darling, my darling ? ' 
 
 " And here I will leave them. The reader's imagination 
 will picture more if more is wished. It is better so." 
 
i.ualM«kaa>B 
 
 ■'■' -^,4 
 
 to him in silent 
 
 to her son, who 
 rs of this conces- 
 rer, he orders his 
 ; is one that has 
 ing man's return, 
 ion with the rosy- 
 WiUiams. There 
 veen the two, and 
 ut as effectively as 
 ir secret marriage. , 
 . the late autumn, 
 usual in her cabin, 
 as she will express 
 c,' or had the dead 
 r exclaim, throwing 
 
 Scoville, dat you? 
 
 doan almos' know 
 
 ite to the old aunty 
 3S, his release and 
 5ight of the" slight 
 the run, and in a 
 juld keep me from 
 fd I not tell you, my 
 
 ieader's imagination 
 lis better so." 
 
 IT IS 
 
 THAT 
 
 Gray's Sjrnp of Red Spruce Gdid 
 
 I> the Best Article in the Market for all Diseases of the 
 
 CHEST, THROAT AND LUNGS, 
 
 AND IS 
 
 ^VV^ORTH 
 
 Its weight in Qold to all those who suffer from 
 
 BRONCHIAL CATARRH, COUGHS, COLOS, ASTHMA, BRONCHITIS, QUINSY, &C 
 
 And u it la free from all injurious ingredientfi, can be giren with impuuitjr to 
 
 Children. In savere cases of 
 
 It will be found ir. valuable. 
 
 PUBLIC SPEAKERS and SINGERS 
 
 IN 
 
 ..REMEMBERING 
 
 ISiiiiaiisisjsiSjSfSEyaMiii^i^^ 
 
 To keep a bottle near at hand, can always avoid the unpleasant and annojing 
 dryness which so often affects the throat. 
 
 B«w«rt of Imltatlon>. Hon* 0«nulne without tlit Signature of the InTentMr. 
 
 »»• 
 
 J^SoM by all Druggliti and Oeneral Dealers throoghout Canada and the United 
 
 States, and a* wholesale by 
 
 KBRRT, WATSON A CO., 
 
 : 
 
 II 
 
I f 
 
 'li 
 
 llliili 
 
 illil 
 
 I': 
 
 H 
 
 
 1'i 
 
 ■I Ji. 
 
 Ml 
 
 J. B. LALIBEETiS, 
 
 Manufacturer and Dealer in 
 
 FURS 
 
 OF EVERY DESOKIPTION. 
 
 145 ST. JOSEPH STREET, QUEBEC, CAN. 
 
 SEND FOR PRICE LIST. 
 
■ 'ir ■ " It 
 
 BELL" 
 UPRIGHT I CABINET 
 
 PIANOS. ORGANS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 TE, 
 
 [ON. 
 
 lEO, CAN. 
 
 ARE THE 
 
 LEADING CANADIAN INSTRUMENTS. 
 
 Unsurpassed in Tone, Design or Durability, 
 
 Recommended by all the Leading Musicians and tht 
 
 Trade generally. 
 
 CATALOGUES FREE ON APPLICATION. 
 
 W. BELL & CO., 
 
 FACTORIES AND OFFICES, - dCELPH, CANADA. 
 
 Branch Offices :— London, Eng., Sydney, N. S.W., 
 Toronto, Hamilton, St. Thomas and Winnipeg. 
 
•n- 
 
 \m 
 
 St. La^wrence Hall, 
 
 MONTREAL, CANADA. 
 
 ITTor upwards of Thirty-Five years the name of the St. Lawrbmgi 
 ^ Hall has been familiar to all Travellers on thii ConlinesC. 
 The Hotel is conveniently situated in the heart of tbt 
 centre of Montreal, and is contiguous to the General 
 and other important Public Buildings. It is handsomely 
 luxuriously furnished, lighted by the electric light, and fitted wilk a 
 Passenger Elevator. The Building, which has recently been es- 
 tended, contains -jso Rooms. 
 
 The Hotel is managed by Mr. Samuel Montoome»y, 
 the personal supervision of the proprietor, Mr. Henry Hooam. 
 
 Terms ISdoderate. 
 
 HUNTER, ROSE & CO., 
 
 Printers, Bookbinders, Pul)lisliers, 
 
 PAPBR RUIvERS, 
 
 Electrotypers and Stereotypers. 
 25 WELLINGTON STREET WEST, 
 
 To:E.oisrTO- 
 
 ^ SEND FOR ESTIMATE. 
 
 BoolszTDitidiri'T in. a^ll its "Varieties 
 Promptly attetidLed. to. 
 
Ill- ■il'r^i 
 
 Hall, 
 
 e St. Lawubmci 
 \ thii CoBftincBC. 
 of tbt bvsaiets 
 neral Post-Oflfce 
 omely decontod, 
 and fitted wkka 
 ecently been cs- 
 
 rTGOMIRY, 
 ^ENRY HOOAM. 
 
 CO., 
 
 IbMers, 
 
 p> 
 
 Irs. 
 WEST, 
 
 'E. 
 
 GRAND TRUNK RAILWAY^ 
 
 «%>A/\X%V^.V%WVXWWWVXW%VX\ 
 
 THE 
 
 GREAT INTERNATIONAL HIGHWAY 
 
 Uetween ejorj Citj in Outarlo and Quebec and all primdpal 
 points across the American Continent. 
 
 This Great Tourist Line Reaches All The Famoui 
 
 eU) ORCHARD BEACH, 
 
 PORTLAND, 
 
 WHITE MOUNTAINS, 
 
 QUEBEC, 
 lAPIDS OF THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE, 
 THOUSAND ISLANDS, 
 
 NIAGARA FALLS, 
 
 LAKES GEOFGE Ahii CHAHPLAIl^ 
 
 AND THE FOLLOWnra BUSINESS CENTRES : 
 
 Peterboro, London, 
 
 Hamilton, Chatham, 
 
 §t. Catharines, Sarnia, 
 
 Toronto, Detroit, 
 
 Chicago, Etc., Etc. 
 
 Montreal, 
 Ottaira, 
 BrockTille, 
 Kingston, 
 
 Buflfblo, 
 
 F%illman Palace SUeping a/nd Parlor Cars are attached to cUl 
 JExpreu Traim and rwn through on quick time. 
 
 Am extensive TKrtety of TonrlHt Tickets on hand at all principal 
 •flees, comprising tbe mast popular and interesting routes on tlia 
 Vantiiicnt. 
 
 Through tickets at lowest fares on sale at all Stations and Agencies. 
 
 WM. EDGAR, L. d. SEARGEANT, J. HICKSON. 
 
 Gen. Fassr. Agent Truffle Manager. Gen. Manager. 
 
 .©ties 
 
 HEAD OFFICES 
 
 inO^TREAL.. 
 
!'<i 
 
 
 J 
 
 I !■ 
 
 ; ! 
 
 .■I ■ 
 
 The \{ml Iloi'tsli-We^terq Telegraph Co. 
 
 OF 0-A-3Sr.A.ID-^. 
 
 Operating the Lines of the Montreal and Dominion 
 
 Telegraph Connpanies. 
 
 Mi/es of Line, S 4,0 00. dumber of Offices, 2,000. 
 
 ERISTUS WIMAN, President. H. P. DWIOHT, Genenl HAHAger. 
 
 Head Office : TORONTO, ONT. 
 
 Direct and exclusive Cable Connection through Canadian 
 
 territory with the Anglo-American, Direct and also 
 
 with the French and American Cables. 
 
 The sending Money Orders by Telegrsph between the principal •Aom b 
 OMiAda, and also between thia country and the whole of the Money ^rraaifiv 
 Ofices of the Wentem Union Telegraph Company, has been In vogue ' some 
 time and git'eatly appreciated by the public. 
 
 Corner King and Brock 8ts. (Close to Northern R. R. Station), 
 TORONTO, ONT. 
 
 THE MOST HANDSOME THOROUGHFARE IN THE DOMINION. 
 
 The aboTe hoase is heated by hot w»ter, with »11 the modern improvomeuts. Oas !■ 
 1 to " - - - 
 
 J hoarder 
 y the day or week with or without board. 
 
 1, aud for comfort is eaual to any 12.00 per day house in Canada. Terms, |l.Mfer 
 ,ra 
 
 Beduotions to weekly boarders. 
 
 S. RICHARDSON, Proprietor. 
 
 BOOKS WHICH SHOULD BE READ. 
 
 BBN HUB, by Lew Wallaoe. Prioe, 90 cents. 
 
 THB FAIR GOD, by Lew WalUoe. Price, 40 cents. 
 
 ▲T THE MEROT OF TIBERIUS, by A. J. Evans Wilson. 60 olik 
 
 HR BARNES, OF KEW YORK. Price, 26 cents. 
 
 ROSE PUBLISHING CO., Toronto. 
 
^^[■■■■■^ ■ 
 
 gpapj Co. 
 
 id Dominion 
 
 oes, 2,000. 
 )«iieral Hotc«r. 
 
 ONT. 
 
 lugh Canadian 
 xt and also 
 ables. 
 
 I principal •Am* I> 
 he Money *]^nadm 
 \ In vogue ' 9mM 
 
 Station), 
 
 DOMINION. 
 
 lomeuti. Om !■ CMiy 
 Terms, 9iM per «f • 
 
 |n, Proprietor. 
 
 READ. 
 
 THE 
 
 [ilson. 60 etai 
 
 >nto. 
 
 BEST IDESEZ 
 
 ARE MADE BY 
 
 TEE© & CO., 
 
 300 ST. JAMES STREET, 
 
 MONTRE Ja:>, 
 
lui: 
 III- 
 
 iHi 
 
 ^!f 
 
 i 
 
 
 ,ii 
 
 ^1 
 
 ii 
 
 !!' 
 
 : 
 
 Canada Shipping Co, 
 
 BEAVER LINE OF STEAMSHIPS. 
 
 •SS. "LAKE ONTARIO » 6,000 Tons Captain H. Campbell. 
 
 S«. "LAKK SUPERIOR," 5,000Ton8 Captain William Stkwabt. 
 
 SS. "LAKK HUJION," 4,100 Tons Captain M. L. Trammab. 
 
 SS. "LAKE WINNIPEG," 3,300 Tons Captain P. D. MuBiui. 
 
 SS. "LAKE NEriGON," 2,300 Tons Captain J. Carkj. 
 
 * lUs Saloon and Staterooms amidships. 
 
 These Steamers Sail Weekly from 
 
 MONTREAL and LIVERPOOL 
 
 During Summer Season, 
 
 From MONTREAL erery TUESDAY— From LIYEBFOOL 
 
 every FRIDdY ; 
 
 AND 
 
 NEW YORK AND LIVERPOOL 
 
 During Winter Season, 
 SALOON TICKETS, MONTREAL to LIVERPOOL, 
 
 $40.00, $50.00, and $60.00 ; 
 
 RETURN TICKETS, $80.00, $po.oo, and $iio.oo, 
 
 According to Steamer and Accommodation, 
 
 SECOND CABIN, 
 
 $30.00; RETURN TICKETS,- 
 
 $60.00. 
 
 St;ee3:*ajge sut IjO'^t^t- f&ai'bes. 
 
 For further particulars, and to secure Berths, apply to 
 
 H. E. MURRAT, Genl Manager, 
 
 I Custom House Square, Montreal, 
 Or to the Local Agents in the different Towns and Citiei. 
 
.g Co. 
 
 (I SHIPS. 
 
 FT. Campbell. 
 William Stkwabt, 
 M. L. Trammah. 
 P. I). Murrai. 
 J. CARar, 
 
 
 ?POOL 
 
 [TERPOOL 
 
 {POOL 
 
 VERPOOL, 
 d $110.00, 
 
 )- < $60.00. 
 
 jGS, 
 
 rto >--''^- 
 
 Lnagevy 
 
 '■ Citiei.